He really should be going but he didn’t want to move, so Will stayed exactly where he was.
17
Margot
To celebrate their new entente cordiale and to show Blossom that both Mummy and Daddy loved her equally, Will turned up at Ivy+Pearl on Tuesday lunchtime so they could walk Blossom together.
‘There’s a man here for Margot. Apparently she’s expecting him,’ Audrey announced over the intercom, which was only ever used in an emergency. Evidently a man turning up for Margot was an emergency.
‘You’re dating?’ Jacques swivelled around in his chair so Margot got the full benefit of his martyred expression. ‘You didn’t think to run this past me first?’
‘Not a date. Blossom’s other . . . um . . .’ Despite the long lecture from Jim on Sunday, Margot still didn’t like to think of him as Blossom’s other owner. In fact, she didn’t like to think that she was Blossom’s owner either. Blossom wasn’t a thing, a possession. She was a living being with her own likes and dislikes who had allowed Margot to share her life. ‘Can I say co-pawrent?’
‘Not out loud and never again!’ Jacques said, clapping his hands over his ears as, through the glass, Margot saw Will arrive at the second floor. ‘He’s quite good-looking. Just your type.’
‘I don’t have a type,’ Margot said crossly, because she didn’t. Having a type implied that she was close-minded and . . .
‘He’s breathing, so he’s your type isn’t he?’ Jacques had just had his autumn/winter looks signed off and the success had gone to his head.
Audrey’s announcement had brought everyone to the doors of their offices so they could get a good gawp at the man for Margot. Even Tansy – Margot would have expected better from her.
But the person most pleased to discover that Margot might actually have found a man who was committed enough to come and see her at work wasn’t even a person. It was Blossom, who had been slumbering and farting and snoring under Margot’s desk, but the blaring intercom announcement had woken her up.
She shot out of her bed, her claws tap-tap-tapping on the wooden floor as she hurled herself at Will, who’d been standing there with a discomfited look. As Blossom jumped up at him, though Margot had told her a million times not to do that, the aloof expression was wiped off his face to be replaced with a smile of pure delight.
‘Maybe Audrey should have said that there was a man here to see Blossom,’ Jacques drawled, then yelped as Margot dug him in the shoulder on her way out of their office.
Instead of telling Blossom to get down, or, as Jim suggested, gently walking into her so she had no choice but to put all four paws back on the ground, Will picked her up, one arm securely under her bottom, so she could put her paws on his shoulder and lick his face.
‘You shouldn’t let her do that!’ would have been Margot’s opening salvo, to mask the bitter pang of jealousy that Blossom would never let Margot pick her up, but mindful that they were meant to be presenting a united front, she settled for a non-confrontational, ‘Hello, I’ll just get my coat.’
When Margot returned with her coat, most of the Ivy+Pearl workforce had found a reason to loiter by the big table so they could get a proper look at Will, who now had Blossom sitting so she could give him a high five.
‘There’s something about seeing a man so obviously adored by his dog that’s making my fanny throb,’ Cora muttered to Margot’s horror; she hoped that Will hadn’t heard her. But no, he was too busy being fawned over by Amina.
‘Yes, she’s about three, picked up as a stray in Neasden,’ he was saying as if Margot hadn’t already told them about Blossom’s ignominious start in life. ‘But she’s fully embracing middle-class life now.’
‘Well, we all love her,’ Amina said in a breathy voice, even though she was a newlywed and shouldn’t have been eyeing Will up and down like she was wondering if she had room for him in her flat in Dalston. The flat she shared with her husband.
‘OK, let’s go,’ Margot said cheerily, though she felt little cheer and more like having strong words with her colleagues, but especially Audrey, who usually made all visitors wait in reception.
‘This is a nice place to work,’ Will remarked once they were out on the street and away from prying eyes and nosy beaks. ‘Very convenient to have Primrose Hill so close by. She’s still pulling then,’ he added.
‘I don’t think she’s ever going to stop pulling,’ Margot said sadly. ‘I know that I’m meant to stop and start walking her in the other direction, but I only get an hour for lunch.’
‘I won’t tell Jim if you won’t.’ Will held up a brown paper bag that Margot hadn’t noticed he was holding. She hoped it contained some kind of food because she was starving. ‘I have a secret weapon in here.’
‘What kind of secret weapon? It’s not a no-pull harness is it, because Jim was very against them and I think they’re quite cruel . . .’
‘But Jim was very pro long lines,’ Will said pulling out a long, long, long, long red lead. ‘Shall we try it out once we get into the park?’
The long line would give Blossom freedom to roam and explore and sniff other dog’s wee-mails, but give Margot and Will control over her if she started any argy bargy with another dog.
As soon as they were through the gates and on the lower slopes of Primrose Hill, Will unclipped Blossom’s lead from her harness and attached the long line.
For the first few seconds Blossom was far more interested in eating a particularly tufty clump of grass. Sometimes it was like walking a miniature cow.
‘So far, so good,’ Margot decided, but she’d spoken too soon, because when Blossom realised that she was no longer tethered to a measly 138 centimetres, she took off at a gallop.
The long line slithered after her, stretching out in all its ten-metre glory until Blossom reached the end of the line and the almighty tug reverberated down the length of rope and jolted every bone in Margot’s body. ‘Sweet mother of God, I’ve dislocated my shoulder!’ she squeaked. ‘Your turn.’
Will didn’t have much better luck. It turned out that rather than appreciating the greater freedom that the long line gave her, it made Blossom furious that said freedom was just a cruel illusion.
Margot had also never realised what malicious gits other dogs could be. They’d approach Blossom and when she went berserk, diving after them and snapping her teeth as Will tried to reel her in like a prize marlin, the other dogs would tease her. They’d come closer then dart away, making Blossom even more frantic.
‘They’re just being friendly,’ owner after owner shouted gaily as their dickhead dogs tormented Blossom.
‘We could get her a yellow lead and a yellow coat, which signifies she’s a nervous dog,’ Margot told Will, who looked unimpressed.
‘Most people wouldn’t know what a yellow lead signified,’ he pointed out, as he succeeded in getting Blossom close enough to grab. ‘And I’m not sure yellow is her colour. Sit!’
It was a very firm, very authoritative sit, that made even Margot want to drop her bottom to the ground. Instead she settled for a shiver. The good kind of shiver. There was something to be said for a man who could take charge in a crisis. But she didn’t want to get the good kind of shiver from Will. No good would ever come of that. It was time for a pivot. ‘You can also get a coat that says “I need my space, I’m a bit of a twat”,’ she revealed.