He was still sitting there, still talking, still rubbing me, when I looked up and saw someone I recognised walking towards us. It wasn’t Becky. It was her mother.

“So there you are,” she said to me. “They told me in the hospital I’d find you out here. I see you’ve found yourself a friend then.”

Joe had got to his feet by now. “Yours is he?” he asked.

“He’s Becky’s really, my daughter’s. They ran off together, the two of them. They had good reason, believe me. She had an accident, but she’s all right now, thank God. Much better.”

“That’s good,” Joe said. “So you’ll be taking him home then, I suppose?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied. “We’ve got nowhere to keep him, not any more. As soon as she’s out of hospital – probably tomorrow, the doctor says – we’ll be moving on. Things didn’t work out back home, so Becky and me, we’ll be staying in my mum’s flat for a while, just till we find somewhere on our own. We’re better off on our own. Becky was right about that. She was right about a lot of things. But that’s another story. Anyway, the trouble is, Mum’s got cats, three of them. She loves them to bits, and she hates all dogs. So do the cats.

“I’ve talked to Becky about it. She’s upset, of course she is. She’d love to keep him if she could, but she knows we can’t. She’ll be happy enough if she knows he’s gone to a good home. It looks to me like maybe he’s found one already.”

For a few moments Joe didn’t seem to know quite what to say. “To tell you the honest truth, I really hadn’t thought about keeping him,” he said. “It hadn’t even occurred to me. I mean, I’m planning on being on the move a lot, I’ve got things to do, and I hadn’t bargained on… But then maybe… maybe it’d be good to have a companion along, someone to talk to. He’s a good listener, I know that.” He smoothed my face and fondled my ears gently. “He’s got kind eyes, just like Paddywack. My wife had a dog a bit like this. Paddywack, he was called, because she liked the song – y’know the one, ‘Knick Knack Paddywack, give a dog a bone’, that one. He was a lurcher, fast like a greyhound, faithful too. A good friend. Marion loved him, more than she loved me sometimes, I reckon. Yes, maybe it’s a good idea at that.”

“Well, old son,” he went on, patting my neck gently, and looking me in the eye. “Haven’t got much to offer you, except friendship. I’ve got lots of that.” He smiled and I knew right away I was in safe hands, that here was someone I could trust. He looked up at Becky’s mother, “All right, why not? If he’ll have me, I’ll have him. You tell that daughter of yours in the hospital not to worry, that he’ll be well looked after, I promise.”