Thomas and Mary by Tim Parks

Author:Tim Parks
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473523555
Publisher: Random House

JULIE

I met Mary Paige in the dog park. She used to come late afternoon with her cocker spaniel. I had Donna, of course. She was in heat at the time, and it was keeping them apart we got together. I must have told her I sometimes looked after other people’s dogs for them, because she offered me money to keep her Ricky, while she was away for a week and of course I said yes. Then she told me I must never bring Donna to the park when she was in heat. It was just common sense. She was right.

She gave me more than I’d asked to keep Ricky, and a nice present as well, a cashmere cardigan. That’s the kind of person Mary is. Really generous. And full of energy. We started to take the dogs for walks together whenever I had time. Boy, did Mary take long walks! Instead of the usual half an hour with the mutts on their leads, sniffing round familiar corners, she’d drive us up the hill beyond the industrial estate and into the woods. Then we’d climb up to the ridge and set off northwards through open fields and across farmyards, through hedges, over fences, whatever. Mary was a powerhouse. Striding along with her hands linked behind her back and her shoulders pushed slightly forward, she’d just go on and on. Sometimes we’d do ten miles and more. You needed good shoes. The dogs would be exhausted. I lost quite a few pounds. It was fantastic.

And she knew so much about everything. She could tell you a million things about local history, about nutrition, health, exercise. And about dogs. She pointed out to me that Donna had a problem with her hips and told me I should get it seen to, but I really didn’t have the cash to start expensive stuff with the vet. When we got back, just before lunch or just before dinner, she liked to go for a drink, maybe in the garden behind the Torrington. An aperitif, she called it. Usually sparkling wine. Sometimes a martini. She was always happy to offer. With crisps or nibbles, anything would do. In the teeth of everything she said about diet. Sometimes, laughing, she’d ask if I’d roll a cigarette for her. She used to smoke long ago, she said, though it didn’t look that way when she puffed on my Golden Virginia. She looked like a kid playing with cigarettes for the first time, making elegant gestures with her hands and pouting her lips to blow the smoke here and there. Coughing. Then maybe bursting out laughing. You couldn’t help but love her.

I think she wanted someone to look after. Maybe because the kids had grown up. Certainly she always showed a helpful interest in the shit I was going through at the time. I was seeing a lawyer about my ex who was refusing to give me my share of the flat we’d bought years ago, and that he was still living in.

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