The Moon, the Stars, and Madame Burova: A Novel by Ruth Hogan

Author:Ruth Hogan [Hogan, Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780063075436
Google: _LcfzgEACAAJ
Amazon: 0063075431
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-09-20T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

1973

Treasure was positive that he had grown at least three inches taller in the past week. But perhaps it was because for the first time in his life he was standing proud with his shoulders back and his chin lifted. He was looking upward to the rooftops and the sky, and forward to tomorrow and the future. It was a new and intoxicating feeling that took Treasure by surprise when he woke up each day. It was still early, but he couldn’t wait to get up in the mornings now. And even if he should be tempted to lie in, a cold nose in his ear and a gentle paw on his chest would swiftly change his mind. His mother had given him a blanket for Star to sleep on, but he preferred to have her on his bed, and she was happy to oblige. She trotted along beside him now, wearing a new collar and lead. She was nervous of almost everything: passing traffic, other pedestrians, even her own reflection in shop windows. But Treasure was determined to heal her broken spirit and teach her to trust. He had finally rescued her, and now he was going to make her happy. Every time she wagged her tail, however slight or brief the movement, it was a tiny but significant victory for both of them.

Outside the corner shop, Mr. Chowdhury was setting out trays of fruit.

“Good morning, good morning, young man! You have a new friend, I see. You must introduce me.”

Treasure was a frequent customer, either shopping for his mum or spending his pocket money on comics or sweets.

“This is Star,” Treasure explained proudly.

“Well, it’s a very lovely dog, but please don’t let it urinate up my splendid Golden Delicious display.”

Treasure was affronted on Star’s behalf. “She’s a girl! She doesn’t cock her leg!”

Mr. Chowdhury polished one of the apples on the front of his shirt before returning it to its tray.

“My apologies. But no squatting either. No puddles outside my shop.”

Treasure was about to walk on, but Mr. Chowdhury asked him to wait, before disappearing back inside the shop. He returned a moment later with a box of dog biscuits.

“To welcome your new and very fine friend, Star,” he said, handing the biscuits to Treasure. “And to persuade her, perhaps, that if she does need to relieve her bladder, a most suitable place would be just outside the pawnbroker’s.”

“Why?” Treasure didn’t disagree, but he was curious.

“Because that man, Mr. Jimmy Cox, he’s a bad egg. No, I should say even a rotten egg. He has no respect for his fellow shopkeepers.”

Jimmy Cox had openly referred to Mr. Chowdhury’s establishment as the “Paki shop,” and coming from India as he did, Mr. Chowdhury had been deeply offended.

Treasure tucked the box under his arm and thanked Mr. Chowdhury. “You don’t need to worry about Jimmy Cox anymore,” he added. “He’s dead.”

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