Terry looked sceptical.
‘You’re looking after someone else’s dog for Christmas?’
‘In a manner of speaking. Do we have to have this conversation on the doorstep? It may have escaped your deductive powers, but it’s just started snowing and it’s cold out here. Miracle needs to be in the warm. And not just Miracle, I might add. The heating’s playing up in my car again and it was distinctly frosty for the last few miles.’
‘Miracle?’
‘The dog. I’ve named him Miracle. Because it was a miracle I found him and a miracle he’s alive.’
‘Right. Er. I’m sure you’ll explain all that later, but the thing is, Molly, Sarah’s allergic to dogs. Surely you remember that?’
‘Damn!’
How could she have forgotten? Sarah would cross the road to avoid an oncoming dog. It wasn’t that she didn’t like dogs. She did. But if she got within two feet of one, she’d break out in hives and her eyes and nose would run.
It wasn’t a pretty sight.
Both Molly and Terry had witnessed it when Terry’s good friend, Chance Warren had met them all for coffee one morning, over four years ago now. It was a couple of months after Molly and Sarah had met, and a few months before Terry and Sarah had started dating. Chance had brought his mum’s new Olde English Sheepdog puppy, Beauty with him. He’d got it for her as a birthday present.
Sarah, it transpired, hadn’t wanted to be rude, so she hadn’t mentioned her allergy but within a matter of minutes, the poor girl was a mess.
Chance had done the decent thing and left immediately, much to Molly’s disappointment. She’d only seen him a few times since he’d moved back to America with his dad about twenty years earlier, and each time he had looked better than the last.
Molly had had a massive crush on him when he’d been the good-looking, strapping six-foot teenager who’d lived a couple of streets away and that crush had only intensified as Chance had grown into an extremely handsome man.
His chestnut hair seemed richer and darker, his blue eyes more intense and his lopsided smile was definitely sexier.
She’d always thought – or hoped – that one day something might happen between them, but for some reason it never had. Over the years, whenever Chance came to visit his mum, either Molly had a boyfriend or Chance had a girlfriend, but on that particular occasion, both it seemed, were unattached and Molly had high hopes.
But once again, it wasn’t to be. She was leaving the next day and so was Chance, Terry had informed her.
She could still remember the smile Chance had given her that day as he and Beauty hurried away. The sort of smile that made her think he might be almost as disappointed as she was that they wouldn’t get to spend any time together.
Or perhaps he was merely disappointed not to be spending any time with his mate, Terry. Chance was on a flying visit for his mum’s birthday, and whenever he came over to see his mum, he caught up with his childhood best friend.
When Chance and Beauty left that day, Molly had taken Sarah to the ladies. Sarah swallowed down one of her allergy tablets and washed her hands and face and soon after that the runny nose and eyes returned to near normal and the red blotches on her face and neck slowly began to fade. But as Sarah avoided dogs at all costs, Molly hadn’t witnessed the effects of Sarah’s allergy since then – and had completely forgotten about it.
But she hadn’t forgotten about the look Chance had given her that day, even though she hadn’t seen him since.
He’d been back to Easterhill several times to visit his mum, and he’d met up with Terry and Sarah, but on every occasion, Molly had been busy with work and hadn’t been able to get to Easterhill in time to see him.
More than once, she’d given Terry a good telling off for not letting her know sooner when Chance was coming over. Finally, Sarah had promised to contact Molly herself to let her know. Except Chance hadn’t been back for months – until now.
Completely out of the blue, in the first week of December, he arrived in Easterhill and announced to Terry and Sarah that he was moving back for good. Or at least for the foreseeable future.
‘He’s bought one of the cottages just around the corner from us,’ Sarah informed Molly the night Chance had told them his news. ‘It’s in Wishing Well Lane. He’s done it all online and over the phone, apparently, and he didn’t want to mention it until the purchase had gone through. He’s collecting the keys tomorrow but he told us the place needs doing up.’
‘That’s fantastic news!’ Molly exclaimed. ‘Can I come and stay for Christmas?’
Sarah laughed. ‘You always come and stay for Christmas, so why should this year be any different?’
‘Because this year, I might finally get a chance with Chance.’ Molly quipped.
‘Er. Not necessarily. I hadn’t finished. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Molly, but I’m afraid he’s got a girlfriend.’
‘Oh?’ Molly tried not to sound as disappointed as she felt. ‘Has she come over with him? Or did he find her online too?’ she joked. ‘Perhaps he hasn’t met her yet. He might be picking her up tomorrow, along with the keys to his new home.’
Sarah laughed again but suddenly became serious. ‘I wish that were so, but Terry told me that Chance and Jolene have been dating for a while.’
‘Jolene? Her name’s Jolene? Isn’t there a song about someone called Jolene?’
‘Yep. By Dolly Parton, I think. It was one of my mum’s favourites.’
Sarah broke into a rendition of the song and Molly moved away from the phone.
Sarah might be exceptionally talented with her hands but she definitely couldn’t sing.
‘Why are you two standing at the door?’
Sarah’s laughter came from near the kitchen and Molly popped her head into the hallway as Terry moved to one side. Sarah was wiping her hands on a Christmassy towel, her auburn hair a tumble of curls, her face a picture of happiness, her cheeks flushed from the warmth inside the cottage, and flour and possibly icing sugar, were splattered down her snowman-patterned apron.
‘Er. I’m so, so sorry, Sarah. I completely forgot you’re allergic.’
Molly held up the lead that Asher Bryant, a nearby vet and good friend of Terry’s, had given her, so that Sarah could see it, and Miracle turned his head from watching the falling snowflakes, to peer into the hall.
‘I found him wandering on Easterhill Road,’ Molly continued. ‘I couldn’t believe it at first and I drove past him about three times, back and forth, before I stopped and went over to him. He didn’t have a collar or anything and there wasn’t anyone in sight. I wasn’t sure what to do so I telephoned Asher and he said that if I could get Miracle into my car – that’s what I’ve called him. Miracle. Anyway, if I got Miracle to Asher’s surgery, he’d check the microchip and contact the owner. Dogs have to be chipped now by law, apparently. But there wasn’t a chip, so we couldn’t find out if anyone owns him or where he came from. Asher reported it to the local council, to let the dog warden know – which is another legal requirement and he called the local shelters and the RSPCA but they were all inundated. I know I shouldn’t have, but as no one had any room for him, and I’ve owned a dog before, I offered to look after him. Just for Christmas. Asher cleared it with the powers that be and I knew Terry wouldn’t mind. I didn’t think you would either. Honestly, I completely forgot about your allergy. Truly I did. Now I don’t know what to do. I’ll have to take Miracle back to Asher and see if he can find someone else to look after the poor thing.’