The Christmas Dog Sitters

PROLOGUE

AUGUST

‘It’s time to get you smiling again, Rachel.’ Olivia, her face shiny and sweaty in the oppressive August heat, grinned at me from across the living room.

Olivia and I, plus our two friends, Kate and Connor, were all sat sweltering in vests, shorts and flip-flops. Kate, Olivia and I had strategically positioned ourselves next to the three electric fans dotted around the room and Connor had a cold flannel draped across his face.

‘I am smiling,’ I replied, holding up the corners of my mouth and at the same time trying to forget about seeing my ex-boyfriend, Sam and his new fiancée kissing on a blanket in the park. The painful image had been seared onto the backs of my eyelids so there was no escape from it.

We had gone to the park to sunbathe. Our trip had been brought to an abrupt halt after I’d caught sight of Sam and Chantelle locked in a passionate embrace. I had seen them together a few times since Sam and I split up. In a cruel twist of fate, Chantelle had recently moved to a flat near me. However, the sightings – up until now – had consisted of them holding hands walking down a street or standing close to each other in a bar. Those sightings I could handle as they were always fully clothed, and I could swiftly turn away.

It was seeing her lying on top of my ex-boyfriend in a skimpy bikini and them both locked in a passionate kiss that sent me over the edge. I don’t think they realised I was near them.

Tearful and frustrated, I grabbed my towel, shades and suntan cream. ‘I can’t sit here; I am going home.’ My loyal friends packed up their stuff and came with me.

Olivia shook her head. ‘Sam took away your smile last Christmas. You’ll be glad to know I’ve had one of my brainwaves about getting it back.’

In the two years Olivia and I had been flatmates, our friendship had been punctuated with these grand lightbulb moments of hers. Some of her brainwaves were amazing – the surprise holiday to Spain last summer after a friend of hers let us stay in his fancy villa for free; the unplanned girlie road trip to Brighton after I’d been made redundant and the many spa weekends she organised.

Some of her ideas we still laughed about – her dyeing my eyebrows bright orange by mistake; the time we climbed out of a pub toilet window so she could avoid someone she disliked and got stuck whilst she nearly wet herself with laughter; and the pink inflatable boat that got us carried away on a rip tide, leading to a rescue by a handsome lifeguard on a jet ski.

And a few of her suggestions, like the twenty-mile cycle ride for charity, were unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. My body still hadn’t forgiven me for that bike ride. I’ve been a stranger to strenuous exercise since I cancelled my gym membership two years ago. Olivia, a keen cyclist, thought we both only needed a week to train. As the charity bike nightmare was still fresh in my mind (Olivia kept pointing out that I was still walking in an odd manner) my initial reaction to this brainwave was… panic.

‘We are supposed to be talking about ideas for my first date with the hot waiter,’ Connor said, lifting his cold flannel. On the way back to our flat Connor had revealed the waiter from our favourite Italian restaurant had finally agreed to go on a date with him. I sensed Connor was keen to take my mind off the park sighting; so he’d suggested a brainstorming session on locations for his first date.

‘Connor, we will come back to you, I promise,’ explained Olivia, before turning her attention back on me. ‘A male friend of mine is venturing onto the dating scene.’

I let out a groan that made both Connor and Kate laugh.

Olivia continued. ‘He would be perfect for you, Rachel. I’m going to set you up on a blind date.’

Kate, also single, raised her hands. ‘Whoa… what’s this man like and why does Rachel get first dibs?’

‘Blind dates never end well,’ interjected Connor, removing his flannel. ‘My ex-boyfriend and I met on a blind date and look what happened there – heartbreak and eternal misery for me. The sexy waiter down the road is my glimmer of hope.’

Olivia ignored both Kate and Connor. ‘I can’t believe I haven’t done this sooner. Rachel, you and my friend are a match made in heaven.’ She patted the seat next to her. ‘Come and watch me message the man of your dreams.’

‘You don’t have to do this,’ I moaned. ‘I’m taking a break from men after what happened with Sam.’

We’d been dating for eight months when he revealed on Christmas Eve that he’d been cheating on me. It had been incredibly painful as I’d thought we would be together until we were old and crinkly. I’d also become emotionally attached to his little boy, Rupert. Whenever we picked Rupert up from primary school, he would come racing out with a painting of his dad and me. In Rupert’s paintings my long brown hair would always be touching the floor and Sam’s dark red hair would always be vibrant orange.

I had been getting ready to travel to Aunty Karen’s for Christmas when Sam’s car pulled up outside my flat. I’d raced downstairs buzzing with festive excitement thinking he and Rupert had come to exchange gifts. As soon as he got out of the car, I knew something was wrong. My eyes flicked to the woman in the passenger seat. ‘I’m sorry, Rachel,’ Sam said, in my doorway. ‘That’s Chantelle in my car.’ He paused and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m so sorry about this…’

He stopped and bowed his head. ‘We’ve been seeing each other.’

‘Seeing each other?’ I gasped. ‘What do you mean?’

Looking back, I don’t know why I asked that stupid question. Chantelle joined his sales firm last year. Looking back her arrival had coincided with the start of his extra late nights working at the office. Whenever I asked him why he needed to work so late he’d say Chantelle needed a lot of extra coaching. He’d clearly been giving her more than on-the-job coaching.

‘We’re going to spend Christmas with her parents,’ he mumbled before I slammed the door in his face.

My Christmas at Aunty Karen’s house was spent trying not to cry into my roast dinner and being told by my mother to look cheerful.

Olivia shook her head and scrolled through her phone apps. ‘You haven’t smiled properly in months. It’s time to sort you out, Rachel.’

Connor nodded. ‘Rachel, do what Olivia says. You can thank her at your future wedding.’

Kate went to sit on the rug. ‘Come on, Olivia, we need details on Rachel’s blind date.’

‘He lives in Surrey so they might have to meet in London.’

‘What’s he called?’ Connor asked, laying his cold flannel back over his face.

‘Ben,’ Olivia replied, opening WhatsApp. She paused before taking a breath and saying, ‘You know my friend Sophie? Well he was her boyfriend.’ We all went silent as she wiped her cheek. Olivia had mentioned Sophie a few times but had never gone into detail. The loss of her best friend to cancer six years ago was still a difficult subject for her.

Connor was the first to speak. He lifted his flannel and stared at Olivia. ‘Is Ben in the right frame of mind for romance?’

Olivia nodded. ‘Ben is in a good place now. He wants to find love again.’

Connor cast me a worried glance and when Olivia wasn’t looking, I shook my head. This wasn’t going to happen. The thought of dating her late best friend’s boyfriend made me feel uncomfortable. ‘Olivia, I’m not keen on this idea.’

‘Do you have a photo of him?’ Kate asked. Olivia ignored my objection. ‘Ben’s quite shy. He’s one of those annoying people who lurk at the back when photos are being taken. I have a few, but they’re not great and they’re from years ago when he had long hair.’

‘Is he good-looking?’ Connor asked. ‘Can we do a Facebook or Instagram stalk of this chap?’

I frowned at Connor who quickly placed his flannel back over his face. It didn’t matter what Ben looked like because this crazy idea of Olivia’s was not happening.

Olivia shook her head. ‘Ben’s not on there.’

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Connor casting me an anxious look whilst lifting one of the corners of his flannel.

‘Can we talk about something else?’ I asked, feeling a little awkward.

Olivia was still tapping out a message to Ben. ‘He’s a bit rough around the edges. Outdoorsy type of man. Brown hair, tall, with stubble although I think that’s because he can’t be bothered to shave.’ She turned to me. ‘How do you two want to contact each other to arrange the blind date?’

‘Uh… I don’t know,’ I mumbled. ‘Olivia, I don’t want to go on this blind date.’ This was going way too fast for my liking. I wasn’t even sure I was into a man who was rough around the edges, either. Sam was the exact opposite. Everything about him was carefully curated – from his hair with the gelled quiff that took him an hour in the bathroom every morning, to his crisp-all-white trainers which he paired with a stylish black suit and a white T-shirt. ‘Can I think about this?’

Olivia shook her head. ‘I don’t know why but I’m getting a weird sense of urgency with this.’

Connor lifted his flannel and winked at me. ‘Olivia is going to write about you and Ben in her next romance book.’ We all looked over at the pink vintage typewriter in the corner of the room. By day Olivia worked in advertising and by night she sat over by her typewriter and wrote spicy novels that she self-published on Amazon. She enjoyed using our respective dating experiences as fodder for her novels. When one of us was dumped or cheated on, Olivia added the love rat in question to one of her novels. Connor said he found it very therapeutic reading about his ex-boyfriend. Olivia turned him into a nasty villain and he died in a sword fight against the handsome, swashbuckling hero.

After Sam broke up with me, Olivia penned her first spicy thriller and a character called Sam had an unfortunate and troubling death.

Olivia nudged me. ‘How can Ben contact you?’

‘Ummm… I don’t want to go on a blind date with him.’

Olivia grinned as she tapped out a message. ‘He’s going to email you.’ She pulled me into a hug. ‘This is going to be great, and I want a mention at your wedding.’

Leaping up she went to the kitchen and brought back the bottle of fizzy cheap wine, cool from the fridge, and four plastic cups. The strong smell of her vanilla perfume filled the hot, stuffy flat air and gave our nostrils respite from our sweaty aromas. She’d obviously had a quick spray while getting the wine. ‘Let’s have a toast to the future Rachel and Ben.’

As she poured us all a glass, I decided that I wouldn’t reply to his email. He’d get bored soon enough.

Connor sat up and dramatically threw away his flannel. ‘Olivia, please have a brainwave about where I can take the hot waiter on a date?’

After a few glasses of wine and some suggestions on locations for Connor’s first date, we forgot about the heat, my blind date and soon we were all dancing around the living room to Harry Styles’ latest album. As Olivia and I collapsed in a sweaty heap on the sofa, she said, ‘I can’t wait to see you smiling again.’

‘You don’t need to fix me up with Ben to make me smile.’

She grinned. ‘I like helping the people I love. Trust me on this.’

‘I’m not doing it.’

She laughed. ‘You said that after I’d told you about the charity bike ride.’

CHAPTER ONE

DECEMBER

‘We’re all worried about you,’ revealed Maddie, my sister, handing me a generous slice of luxury chocolate Yule log. On her way to visit me, she’d stopped at Waitrose and bought us delicious festive goodies to eat. Maddie always came armed with cake and family gossip. Although, this wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

‘Maddie, I’m fine.’

‘Drip, drip, drip.’ She surveyed the three plastic buckets in front of us catching the drips from the leaks in the ceiling. The landlord had been promising to fix the ceiling for the past month, but his messy divorce had distracted him. Her gaze fell on the blankets over our laps, as it was colder inside than it was outside, and my greasy hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun. ‘Fine is not the word I’d use, Rachel.’

I said, ‘I’ve even added tinsel to the buckets.’

Maddie gave me her concerned older sister stare. ‘It’s hard to see you living like this, Rachel. The last few months haven’t been easy for you. I mean you’ve gone through something…’

I raised my hand to stop her. My face was heating up and a wave of emotion was rising inside of me. ‘Don’t mention it or I will cry, and my tears will turn this delicious Yule log salty.’

She glanced over my shoulder at the selection of paintings against the wall. ‘I see you’re painting again.’

‘It keeps me sane through all my job rejections.’

‘You’re not having much luck?’

I shook my head. ‘Trying to get another job when Christmas is a few weeks away is not easy. I bet you wish you never came all this way to see me.’

Maddie rolled her eyes. ‘Rachel, I would travel anywhere to see you. Oh and… Mum has started a secret family WhatsApp group chat titled Rachel Needs Our Help.’

A secret WhatsApp group chat is our family’s way of dealing with problems. Before WhatsApp, we solved things by shouting at each other over plates of buffet food at a family social event, a wedding, a christening, an engagement party or at a funeral. We are a large family so there are a lot of these events.

If things were not resolved there would be a slew of lengthy phone calls, which would always result in someone either crying or hanging up in anger. We did try texts and emails, but WhatsApp was the game changer for the Reid family. It gave everyone, regardless of where they lived, a chance to have their say on a troubling matter in real time. And they could convey strong feelings via emojis. Although everyone wished Uncle Robert had not discovered the laughing face emoji as that had become his stock response to everything.

Everyone turns to WhatsApp when a family member becomes ‘problematic’. That’s how our mother has explained it to Maddie and me. She lives in Tenerife with our stepdad, Gary, and as unofficial head of the family, she likes to keep tabs on us all dotted around the UK and Australia. She creates a secret WhatsApp message chat which excludes the problem family member and everyone else is encouraged to give their views and advice on the situation.

Over the last few years, the family had solved various problems via family WhatsApp group chats. We navigated Uncle Robert’s midlife crisis – which consisted of him publicly confessing his love for Aunty Karen’s hairdresser.

Then we helped Aunty Flo deal with her rebellious teenage daughter Nadine. Through daily messaging on a secret chat, which excluded Nadine, the family were able to calm Aunty Flo down when Nadine ran away with her boyfriend, who had a penchant for stealing cars, to live with him in a tiny caravan. The family assured Aunty Flo that Nadine liked her home comforts too much and would return once life in the caravan got tough. Three days later Aunty Flo cheerfully informed the family that Nadine had come back hungry, tear-stained, clutching a load of dirty washing, and saying she never wanted to see another caravan or the boyfriend again for as long as she lived.

Recently the family WhatsApp chats had been about Aunty Bev. Mum had four sisters and Bev was the one who they all believed was the most ‘problematic’. Every week Mum would set up a new thread titled, Bev’s Out of Control… AGAIN!

The whole family, excluding Aunty Bev, would pile in with comments and suggestions on how to stop fifty-five-year-old Aunty Bev from going on crazy nights out, having an eye-watering number of male lovers, being tagged into saucy hot tub parties on Facebook and wasting a lot of money on expensive hair extensions. Even distant cousins in Australia voiced their opinions on how to control Aunty Bev, which I had always found extraordinary.

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘I feel honoured to have made it into the Secret Family WhatsApp Hall of Fame. What’s everyone said about me?’

Maddie took out her phone from the Mulberry handbag beside her and opened WhatsApp. ‘Aunty Flo thinks grief can be cured by taking one of her fish oil supplements. Uncle Kevin doesn’t believe you’re grieving. He thinks you’re really on drugs. Apparently, there was an article in the Daily Mail about increased drug use amongst people in their thirties. Aunty Polly has suggested you take up belly dancing. She says her neighbour was suffering from a low mood and they took up belly dancing. That neighbour now has a permanent smile on their face. Fay thinks you eat too much sugar. And Aunty Karen is worried you will turn into Aunty Bev.’

‘How does Fay know I eat too much sugar when she lives on the other side of the world?’

Fay, our older cousin, is Aunty Polly’s daughter. We were not close as kids. She emigrated to Australia after getting a nursing job. She’s a regular on the family WhatsApp and always has a lot to say about everyone’s lives. The time difference isn’t a problem as Fay works nights and judging by how long she spends analysing family issues, she doesn’t have a lot of nursing to do. When Fay is not on WhatsApp, she stalks everyone’s Facebook and Instagram posts.

My sister grinned. ‘Oh, and Uncle Robert thinks you might be pregnant. He also added a laughing face emoji.’

I rolled my eyes at Uncle Robert’s input. ‘Have you ever had a secret family WhatsApp group chat created about you?’

Maddie shook her head. ‘No, although sometimes I wonder if I have missed out by not being the topic of a secret WhatsApp chat.’

‘You could have had one about you last year,’ I said, with a wink.

She smiled, reached out and covered my hand with hers. ‘Still eternally grateful for what you did.’

‘I’d do anything for you, Maddie, you know that.’ I squeezed her hand.

We nibbled at our Yule log slices. ‘Got any plans for Christmas?’ Maddie asked.

Christmas Day for me would be spent rotating and emptying my plastic buckets, microwaving myself a supermarket Christmas dinner, and probably crying a lot about the empty space next to me on the sofa and the lonely pink typewriter over in the corner of the room.

‘To get through it,’ I said, blinking away stinging tears.

CHAPTER TWO

‘Do you remember those amazing Christmases we had with Grandpa Eric and Nana Edith when we were kids?’ Maddie had sensed it was time to change the subject.

A weak smile forced its way onto my face as I remembered spending Christmas with Nana and Grandpa. Mum used to be an air hostess. She got the job after Dad walked out and left us for a woman in Glasgow. Maddie and I would be left with our grandparents for several weeks at a time whilst she jetted off to the other side of the world. As Dad’s parents had passed away a few years before, all childcare was down to Grandpa Eric and Nana Edith.

Mum dealt with her marital breakdown by flying to far-flung lands with her job and partying with her much younger cabin crew, as opposed to looking after us, her children. For seven consecutive years, Maddie and I spent a lot of time with Grandpa Eric and Nana Edith. No matter where Mum was in the world or how long she had been away, our grandparents would always made sure Christmas was a special time.

‘Rushing downstairs on Christmas morning to find Grandpa dressed up as Santa Clause,’ I reminisced. ‘Complete with a gigantic stick-on white beard, a red jacket, huge black boots and a sack of presents slung over his shoulder. He’d always pretend we’d caught him in the act of delivering gifts. I loved how he always claimed his sleigh was on the roof and if we listened quietly, we could hear Rudolph making reindeer sounds. I never heard him.’

Maddie nodded. ‘Nor me. Remember Nana’s legendary roast beef and her Yorkshire puddings which would be so big they’d take up the entire plate?’

My mouth began to water at that delicious memory. ‘Her roast beef dinners were unforgettable. What about her home-made mince pies and her Christmas chocolate stash in the pantry?’

‘We’d eat so much chocolate before breakfast on Christmas morning.’

I chuckled. ‘Dancing to Christmas songs with Grandpa by the tree, opening our presents but being more interested in Nana’s fancy wrapping paper and going out at night to wish the stars a happy Christmas.’

Maddie beamed. ‘Playing boardgames and cards with them both in the afternoon and Grandpa would win at everything.’

I laughed. ‘He’d happily beat us at cards, bankrupt us at Monopoly and wish us a merry Christmas.’

Maddie twirled one of her blonde curls around her finger. ‘Our cousins missed out. I can’t remember any of them ever getting the chance to spend Christmas with Nana and Grandpa.’

‘Grandpa once told me, you and I were their favourite grandchildren.’

Maddie began to giggle. ‘Really?’

I nodded. ‘He told me once Fay was hard work, but I was a kid, so I didn’t know what he meant.’

We both began to laugh, and Maddie picked up her phone. ‘I found this old photo the other day of you and Grandpa.’ She showed me the screen. I looked