Page 32 of The Perfect Blend
I felt panicked, cold, and alone. The sky was starting to lose light, and I knew in an hour it would be dark.
I rang Zoe. It went to voicemail and I swore. My fingers selected the number one up from Zoe and pressed call. Thankfully the signal held, and call tones sounded in my ear.
“Hello?”
“Zach!” I said, distantly noting how strung out and rough I sounded. “I’ve lost Beanie.”
Chapter Twelve
“We’re in the fields by the church, or well, I am. I'm so worried. I’ve been searching for over an hour and it's getting dark and I can't find her - what if she's hurt? What if someone’s taken her. There was a dog-napping last week not twelve miles away and-”
“Alright, alright,” he said in smooth, calming tones, “let's slow things down. I’m coming to help you, take some deep breaths and retrace your steps. Where shall I meet you?”
“Oh, would you? Thank you so, so much! Can you meet me at the entrance to the church?”
Not fifteen minutes later, Zach appeared at the church gates. I sagged with relief.
“Robin,” he said, looking worried. “You look half frozen. Here.” He took a winter outdoor coat from under his arm and wrapped it round my shoulders. I hadn’t even noticed how cold it had got until he mentioned it, now I realised I was shaking.
Once he had helped me slide my arms into the sleeves of his coat, I noticed he was dressed ready for a search and rescue, with hiking boots, hat and rucksack. His blue eyes were filled with concern as he looked at me, but he looked calm and capable. With his steady presence by my side ready to search for Beanie, I began to feel a little less panicked.
I zipped the coat up, tucking my chin inside and pushing my hands into the pockets.
“Thank you. You came prepared,” I said, my vocal chords sounding overused and husky.
“Boy scout,” he said. “Always be prepared.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely not,” he said, startling a smile out of me. “There were no boy scouts where I came from. I am, however, somewhat of a hero you know. Dashing and witty and always prepared. Right, let's go. Where did she enter the field?”
My smile wobbled and I once again retraced my steps, this time with Zach in tow. Methodically we searched each field together one last time. In between our calls for Beanie, Zach kept up a conversation to distract me.
“I always wanted a dog, you know,” he said as we entered the last field I had searched.
“Oh?” I said.
“Yeah, I always felt sorry for the farm dogs who lived outside, when Uncle Jim would never allow them in the house. I’d sneak out with leftovers for them. Give them pats and things. I was a softie. Still am. It broke my heart, and I just wanted to bring them inside where it was warm and clean them up and have them lie by the fire. But Jim said they were farm dogs not pets, and that was that.”
“They always made me sad too,” I said, “but they weren’t mistreated per se, they just weren't pets. It's just how people handled working dogs in those days, still do I guess.''
“Oh, I know. But I dreamed of having those dogs as mine, or at least having one dog at home. Mum was never a fan though, and when I got older I realised I didn’t know a thing about having a dog, and didn't have time to look after one properly.”
“Well,” I said. “You’ve got time now. And if you help me find Beanie, I’ll be needing to go to classes myself. You can come with me and train your dog properly so that you never have to go trampling through fields worried and furious in the dark like this. I’m certainly never doing this again.” My voice got sharper with worry towards the end.
“Here,” said Zach, searching in his bag to pull out some head torches. “Put one on, it's got quite dark.”
I did so dutifully and switched it on, illuminating the wall next to us. A muddy paw print I hadn't seen before was on the stile step. Perhaps I had been too panicked, or it hadn’t been noticeable in the dying light.
“Look!” I said. “She must have gone this way.”
We hopped over the wall and started our search afresh.
“I just don’t understand why she wouldn’t have come back when we called,” said Zach. “Let’s think. She must be trapped somehow, or hurt, because our shouting can definitely be heard across all the nearby fields. She was chasing the sheep, perhaps she wasn’t taking as much care as she should. Let's look carefully for obstacles that could have trapped or hurt her.”
We combed that field, and the next, before a small noise caught my attention.
“Shh!” I said, throwing out my arm to stop Zach, hand lightly pressed against his chest. “Did you hear that?”
