By Lyn Funnell
As soon as I heard her voice I knew that she was trouble. ‘Hello, I’m Marie Thomsett. I’ve just moved in next door. Sorry to bother you, but I’ve got no water in my kitchen.’ All syrupy-sweet and helpless.
And Jack’s reply; ‘Hello, I’m Jack Adams. I’ll come and have a look for you. I expect the stopcock’s turned off.’
‘Oh that’s so kind of you,’ she gushed. Scheming bitch.
I wasn’t surprised that a simple job like turning on a stopcock took nearly an hour.
‘Hello Judy!’ Jack called as he came in with a silly grin on his face, ‘Sorry I’m late. Our new neighbour made me a coffee.’
Yeah, that’s not all she made you, I thought. She made you start to fancy her.
I could sense her weaving her web around my Jack.
Every day, rain or shine, Jack and I go for a long evening stroll on Chailey Common. That first evening there was a light drizzle in the air, and as we wandered about, pointing out things of interest to each other, it seemed to wash her out of his mind, and I knew that, for a while at least, he was completely mine.
We ran down the small steep hill together, the wind and rain roaring in our ears, then Jack gently took hold of me as we crossed the main road. But surprise, surprise, the moment we arrived home, a light coating of rain glistening on our hair, guess who appeared at our front door.
‘Oh hello Jack, hello Judy,’ she simpered, ‘You’ll think me such a silly billy, but my strip light won’t work in the bathroom. I can’t see a thing in there. I’m afraid that I’m just not mechanically-minded!’ And she gave a helpless girly giggle.
Hate filled my whole system as I went indoors and lay down on the sofa while Jack went to sort out her light – and a few other things, if she had her way!
I wasn’t surprised when he returned two hours later, reeking of alcohol and acting casual.
‘She kept asking me questions,’ he said, ‘There’s so much that you need to know when you move to a strange place,’
Yeah, isn’t there just? And I can always find out everything for myself, without bothering anyone.
Nearly every day she found some excuse to call in. I glared at her openly while she sat drinking coffee in our kitchen.
She had one of those dreadful laughs where she opened her mouth wide and showed all her teeth. I’d like to show you all my teeth, I fumed, listening to her loud phoney bellowing for the umpteenth time, when Jack hadn’t said anything funny at all. But naturally, he was smirking pathetically, believing that he was a real scream.
And she was a toucher. I must admit that I’ve always enjoyed physical contact, but I couldn’t bear her posey patting at every excuse. I cringed while I watched her lightly tapping my Jack on his arm as often as she could, and even on the knee, when the conniving cow could pretend that she was doing it innocently. And of course Jack pretended that he never noticed what she was doing.
It was painful and pathetic to watch their pretence.
At first I got an extra share of her poking and patting, while she tried to worm her way into my affections, but I soon learnt to avoid her.
Sometimes I noticed Jack darting puzzled glances at me. Poor, blind fool, he really couldn’t see what was going on.
I’d believed that I’d reached the zenith of my jealous anger until that beautiful, warm, still evening when the sky was filled with a multicoloured sunset like a Japanese silk painting, and the air was alive with summer scents. My favourite kind of night.
‘Oh, I mustn’t keep you two,’ Miss Marie Man-eater cooed, pretending to rise from the deckchair in our garden.
Then my blood rose as Jack said, ‘No, that’s alright. Why don’t you come with us? It’s a lovely evening for a stroll. Judy won’t mind, will you, my love?’
My legs went stiff. I couldn’t move for the anger filling my whole body. How dare she? How dare she come with us on OUR walk? OUR time together. OUR secret, shared moments. How DARE she?
She never stopped talking. It was ‘Ooh, look at this!’ and ‘Ooh, what’s that over there?’ the whole time. I stormed on ahead and left them to it.
Jack called after me, ‘Judy, wait! What’s up with you?’ But I ignored him and increased my pace.
When we reached OUR hill, I ran down it, then I looked back. I wasn’t surprised to see Jack walking instead of running full pelt, like he usually did. Mustn’t undignify ourself in front of Her Ladyship, must we?
At home, I completely ignored him all night. Once, he said, ‘What’s the matter Judy? What’s wrong?’ But I just turned away and he didn’t pursue the subject.
A few evenings later; a dull, foggy end to a dark, overcast day. I heard the familiar double ring at our doorbell.
Jack opened the door eagerly and her terrible breathless voice squawked, ‘Oh Jack, I’m sorry to bother you!’
‘You’re never any bother, you should know that,’ he replied.
Oh yes she is, I thought.
‘It’s my lights. I was doing some ironing, there was a loud bang and everything went dark. I expect it’s a fuse, but I don’t understand these things. You know how helpless I am!’
‘I’ll get my torch, and some fuses and wire,’ Jack told her. Then he called, ‘Judy, I won’t be long. I’m just going next door. Look, why don’t you and Marie go for a walk together, you girls, eh? I’m sure you’ll both become good friends.’
Friends? Friends with HER? Had he gone stark, raving mad? Couldn’t he tell how much I hated her guts? I’d made it obvious enough, surely! Was love really that blind? Or was he just being hopeful?
We set out together through the fog, Marie yap-yapping all the time, me stomping on ahead of her, gradually increasing my pace. I could hear he huffing behind me, struggling to keep up.
We completed the route in record time. I didn’t care about her presence. I love Chailey Common. I ran down the hill and she ran far behind me, her words becoming further spaced out, and her breath making a rasping noise. I waited impatiently at the bottom of the hill, and I felt a surge of triumph as she leaned against a tree, fighting for air. But she wouldn’t shut up.
‘Ooh, you can run fast, Judy!’ she wheezed, ‘I nearly lost you then!’
While we waited to cross the main road, I felt sick with anger when she took hold of me like Jack does.
Then I saw my chance. Two faint yellow headlights loomed towards us through the fog. The car was travelling way above the speed limit, doubly dangerous in such poor conditions. As the car’s bodywork became visible, I ran into the road, tugging Marie with me.
She didn’t stand a chance. The car’s wheels went right over her, jerking me along the ground.
I hauled myself to the island in the centre of the road, pulling Marie’s body behind me. She was obviously dead. Good. Good riddance.
The driver of a car coming in the opposite direction gave evidence at the inquest. The fog had distorted the picture, but he said that I had tried to save Marie’s life by pulling her clear. Big joke, eh?
The other driver was jailed for speeding, manslaughter, and several other things. Poor sucker. Well, he shouldn’t have been driving so fast, should he?
Jack told me that he loved me very much, and that he was proud of me.
We sat quietly together the evening after the inquest. Jack sighed several times. I knew he missed her, but I didn’t care. He was all mine again. He held out his hand and I laid my face against it, then he ran his hand down my spine. I wagged my long brown tail and lay down at his feet. I love him so much, Jack my beloved master.
