Back Dog Days
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Prelude
  5. George
  6. Dan
  7. Lizzie
  8. George
  9. Dan
  10. Lizzie
  11. George
  12. Dan
  13. Lizzie
  14. George
  15. Dan
  16. Lizzie
  17. George
  18. Dan
  19. Lizzie
  20. George
  21. Dan
  22. Lizzie
  23. George
  24. Dan
  25. Lizzie
  26. George
  27. Dan
  28. Lizzie
  29. George
  30. Dan
  31. Lizzie
  32. George
  33. Dan
  34. George
  35. Dan
  36. Lizzie
  37. George
  38. Dan
  39. Lizzie
  40. George
  41. Dan
  42. Lizzie
  43. Dan
  44. George
  45. Dan
  46. Lizzie
  47. Dan
  48. Lizzie
  49. George
  50. Lizzie
  51. George
  52. Dan
  53. Lizzie
  54. George
  55. Dan
  56. Lizzie
  57. George
  58. Dan
  59. Lizzie
  60. George
  61. Dan
  62. Lizzie
  63. George
  64. Dan
  65. Beth
  66. Postscript
  67. Acknowledgements
  68. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

Hello George [reads the note in her neat cursive swirl]

Isn’t Sophie lovely? Don’t judge her by her nose piercing. I rather like it! The fact you are out and about means you’ve managed to feed and dress yourself and you are not sitting in a diabetic coma at home with the radio on. Well done! I hope Barbara hasn’t been driving you mad. I told her to pop in until she was sure you’d manage and not pester you too much. She tries her best. I hope you brought Poppy with you. Why don’t you take her to the Beacon after? It’s lovely up there. Get yourself a Scotch egg from the baker’s. It’s time to confess – I used to buy them, not make them at home. I’m sorry, but you were so explicit about your cricket tea. Corned-beef sandwiches, Scotch eggs, quiche and all those cakes. It used to take me hours, and the raw sausage meat stuck in my engagement ring. Poppy will need a check-up at the vet’s. Sharon, the receptionist, is lovely and knows all about her. [Who isn’t fucking lovely, according to you? thought George.] She’ll need her second jabs done too. I’ve paid already but do be nice to her. She’s only little. Well, not as little now. I bet she’s a beauty.

You know the drill with your medication. The current order will be waiting for you, but you’ll have to ring the surgery in four weeks for repeat prescriptions. Jenny on Reception there is less lovely, but I’m sure you’ll be able to cope.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was dying. But there was nothing you could have done. It wasn’t like Fred, three doors down, with his cancer of the ear. Remember how he misheard the doctor and came round to tell us he’d won Cancer of the Year? Mine is not that type of cancer. There’s nothing funny about it. It’s going to kill me, but it doesn’t have to kill you too. Walk Poppy, twice a day. Eat less cheese.

With love,

Ellen

George reads the letter on the bench overlooking the bowls pitch. The bench has an inscription on it that reads: To Pat, who never liked this view. George has always found it funny, until today. He can’t find anything amusing right now.