Daisy stared around her at the dusty stone walls and the crumbling mortar. ‘Does this place look much like anyone’s fantasies?’
‘Well, no,’ Oliver admitted. ‘But you know, the whole moving to a castle in France thing. One of those once in a lifetime opportunities, maybe? Something they figured that if they didn’t do it now, they never would?’
Daisy sighed, and sank down onto the bed, a cloud of dust rising around her. ‘Perhaps. Do you think my parents are okay with the twins down there?’
‘Isn’t the question more whether the twins are okay with your parents?’ Oliver abandoned his hunt for the sheets and sat beside her on the bed.
‘Possibly.’
‘Still, it is nice to have a few quiet moments alone, isn’t it?’ His arm crept around her shoulder. ‘And with a four poster bed, to boot.’
Daisy raised an eyebrow at him. ‘You absolutely cannot be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.’ That sort of thing was how they’d ended up with the twins in the first place. None of their children could really be considered ‘planned’, but the twins were definitely more accidental than most.
Oliver’s arm retreated. ‘Fine. Just a thought.’
‘We need to call Mrs Templeton, anyway,’ Daisy reminded him.
Oliver collapsed back onto the bed with a groan, which quickly turned into a coughing fit as the dust overtook him.
‘We need to make sure that Claude’s okay, and she’s our best shot.’ Daisy waited for the coughing to subside, then handed him her phone. ‘Go on.’
‘Why me?’ Oliver asked, staring at the phone in her hand. ‘Why can’t you do it?’
‘She likes you more.’
‘She hates me. I mow the lawn too loudly and don’t make pretty stripes when I do it.’
‘She still likes you more than me. Or any of the kids, for that matter.’
‘You don’t know that,’ Oliver argued. ‘You’ve never actually asked her outright which one of us she hates least.’
‘I don’t have to,’ Daisy said darkly. ‘She makes it very clear with her eyes.’
‘Yeah, well, she still hates Claude the most.’
That, unfortunately, was true. Mrs Templeton had very little time for animals, Daisy had learnt over several encounters with the old battle-axe, mostly involving her complaining about dogs running wild, dog poo on the pavements, and barking.
Never mind that Claude never ran anywhere if he could help it, or that Daisy paid Bella an extra two quid a week pocket money to pick up after him, or that he rarely barked. Mrs Templeton was not to be reasoned with.
But they were going to have to try.
‘Fine,’ she said, snatching the phone back. ‘I’ll do it.’
Oliver looked relieved. ‘I’ll hold your hand while you call, if you like. For moral support.’ Daisy glared at him. ‘Or I could check on the twins.’
‘That sounds like a much better idea.’
He was gone by the time Daisy had scrolled through her contacts list on her battered old phone and found Mrs Templeton, saved under the obscure title of ‘Neighbourhood Witch’ instead of her actual name.
The phone rang for what seemed like forever before Mrs Templeton’s sharp voice came on the line.
‘Hello? Do you realise it’s nearly nine o’clock at night? I do hope this is an emergency.’
Daisy sighed. That meant it was nearly ten in France, and she could still hear Jay running around with Petal downstairs. Bedtime was apparently a thing of the past.
‘Hello, Mrs Templeton. It’s Daisy McCawley from number 11 here. I’m so sorry to bother you so late.’ Or at all, really. It wasn’t like she’d be calling if she had any other options. ‘It’s just, we’re in France at my parents’ house—’
‘France? Does that mean I’m going to be charged for receiving international calls? Because, really, Mrs McCawley—’
‘No, no, I’m paying for the call,’ Daisy reassured her, pretty sure that was true. ‘And I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. Only, it’s our dog, Claude. We meant to bring him with us, only …’ We managed to bring a soft toy instead. As you do. God, Mrs Templeton was going to think she was more of an incapable idiot than she already did after this. ‘He seems to have escaped from his cage in the car before we left.’ That sounded rather more reasonable, Daisy decided.
‘And you didn’t check? Good grief.’ Daisy could just picture Mrs Templeton shaking her head in despair for the younger generation as she spoke. ‘So now there is a potentially rabid dog running wild around Maple Drive, thanks to you.’
‘Claude isn’t rabid!’
‘He might not have been when you left, but a lot can change in a day, Mrs McCawley.’
Daisy felt that Claude contracting rabies might be pushing it a little far, though. ‘I’m sure Claude is fine, Mrs Templeton. I was just hoping that you might have seen him. I know how you like to keep an eye on goings on in the street.’ Because you’re the nosiest woman in the world.
‘As it happens, I did see your creature earlier today, chasing that abominably fluffy cat from number 12.’ It was nice to know that Mrs Templeton was equally grumpy towards all animals, Daisy decided. And, more importantly, a relief to know that Claude had been fine when he’d last been seen.
‘That’s great. I don’t suppose you know what happened to him next?’
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‘I wouldn’t have the faintest idea. Now, if you don’t mind, I do have my own tasks to be getting on with, rather than trying to find your dog for you …’
‘Of course. Sorry,’ Daisy said. ‘We have set up a page on social media, though. Well, Bella has, and she’s monitoring it all the time on her phone. It’s called Find Claude. So you’re not the only one looking out for him!’ For some reason, she felt the overwhelming need to show Mrs Templeton that they were trying. That they hadn’t just gone away and forgotten about Claude.
‘I hardly think that a teenage girl with a phone is going to find a missing dog from several hundred miles away, do you?’ Mrs Templeton said.
Daisy deflated. She was right, of course. Find Claude was a start, but it wasn’t enough. They had to get home to him.
But until then … ‘If you do happen to see him again, do you think you could—’
‘If I see him again, now I know you are out of the country, I shall do my civic duty and call the pound directly. Merry Christmas, Mrs McCawley.’
‘But—’ It was too late; the line had already gone dead.
‘I take it that went well?’ Oliver asked from the doorway, Lara in his arms sucking on her dummy.
Daisy sighed as she lowered the phone from her ear. ‘How does that woman make “Merry Christmas” sound like a curse?’
‘She probably took an extra course at Evil University.’ Oliver jiggled Lara around a bit in the sort of way that was never going to get her to sleep. ‘So, no sign of Claude?’
‘Oh, she saw him all right. Chasing the cat from across the road.’
‘Ah. His furry nemesis.’
Daisy rolled her eyes. ‘I’m pretty sure Claude is too lazy to have a nemesis.’
‘I think you’d be surprised. But he’s okay, then?’
‘He was, when she saw him. But it does mean he’s outside, in the cold.’ Poor Claude. He wasn’t even wearing his coat.
Oliver sat beside her on the bed, still holding Lara. ‘I do miss him, you know. And I am worried about him, even if I don’t seem it.’