The next half an hour is spent watching the vet give Endof a thorough examination and his second set of vaccinations. I am lectured about his needs in a manner more befitting my adopting a child, and I listen meekly while fully aware of Laurie hiding his smile poorly.

Finally, the vet turns to his computer. “I’ve signed his health certificate. You’ll need that if you plan to travel now that we’re no longer in Europe. It’s his passport. I’ll file it, but would you like a copy?”

I nod and smile my thanks when he hands it to me. I fold it neatly and put it into my wallet.

“Why in your wallet?” Laurie asks, as nosy as ever.

I wrinkle my nose. He prods for information as if he’s being paid per question. “I might decide to travel abroad quickly.”

“So quickly that you can’t go home and print it off? I wasn’t aware that barristers were such impetuous globe trotters.”

“What you know about barristers would fit on the back of a very tiny stamp,” I inform him.

He and the vet laugh, and I roll my eyes and look down at Endof. “Ready, my friend?”

He gives a soft bark and, to everyone’s astonishment, sits down and offers me a paw.

Laurie shakes his head. “I didn’t expect that.”

“I did,” I say entirely untruthfully. “I expect him to behave, and the animal senses my will. It is straightforward, really.”

He arches one eyebrow. “As simple as him chewing your wallet?”

I look down at Endof, who immediately adopts an innocent face that is slightly spoiled by the leather wallet hanging out of his mouth. “Bah. This animal is defective.”

* * *

Endof behaves himself during a stop off to get supplies for him and even on the journey home, which leaves Laurie and I regarding him with deep suspicion. When we exit the lift, Laurie gets out his keys, and I gape like an idiot at him.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” he says. “Well, my brother’s home. It’s a long commute to the South of France and back.”

“Can you utter a sentence that doesn’t involve mocking me?”

He gives that serious consideration and then shakes his head. “No.”

“Wait. You’re leaving me on my own with him?” There’s a frantic note in my voice that I can’t repress.

“Who?”

“Endof,” I whisper. “I don’t know what to do with him.”

He bites his lip, a smile tugging at the corner of his wide mouth. “He’s a dog, Mags. You don’t have to do much apart from love him, feed him, walk him, and give him somewhere to sleep. You don’t have to put his name down for a school or save for his dowry.”