BRIDE
I saw my fiancé, David, his face twisted in anger, strike little Daisy when she accidentally stepped her muddy paw on his pristine white trainers. Ruby wanted to defend the pup, but instead, took a solid, heavy leather lead across her face. Thats when it clicked for me, why all my cats and dogs despised David.
I sat alone by the window, deep in thought. The winter dusk crept in, and lights blinked on in the windows of the houses opposite. I hardly noticed whether it was bright or dark. My thoughts wandered.
It seemed I had everything: a flat of my own, a good job, and a life as decent as anyones. But my personal life stubbornly refused to work out. The clock was ticking, all my old classmates were married or raising children, yet here I was, still alone.
Was I, a clever enough, fairly attractive girljust doomed to end up a spinster? What was so wrong with me? I looked at the furry, sympathetic faces pressed around me, my loyal friends.
My parents died young, one after the other, leaving me in my grandmothers care. I decided early on Id become a nurse. After failing to get into medical school, I studied nursing at college and now worked gruelling shifts on the ambulance crew.
Grandma, who adored me, moved to a little house in the suburbs so I could focus on my life, but that never quite worked out.
As a child, Id always wanted a cat or a dog, but Mum had severe allergies. We only discovered this when I brought home a stray kitten, face glowing with happinessMum had a terrible asthma attack that day. The kitten, whom I called Biscuit, had to go live with Grandma.
When my parents were gone, I found Tom, a ginger tabby, abandoned near the bins. I desperately wanted a dog too, but Gran wouldnt agreeshe felt she couldnt cope.
Now, instead of a partner, I had five loyal companions, and life without them would have been unbearable. Ruby, a mongrel, was a shivering, scruffy pup Id found huddled by the supermarket on a bitter night. She tried to slip inside for warmth, but security shooed her away. I bundled her into my bag and hurried home.
She turned out to be a quick, lively dog, dashing everywhere like a jet. Thats why I called her Rubyfull of spark. She quickly bonded with Tom.
But it didnt end there. Soon a dachshund, Daisy, joined us. Her previous owners were moving into a flat and decided there was no space for hershed ruin the plush carpets and new furniture, they said. They left her out in the garden in the dead of winter and left.
Short-legged, clever, Daisy knew shed been deserted. She spent a week crying outside the house, trying to squeeze into hallways for warmth, until the local dog-walkers told me her story. I took her in and nursed her frostbitten ears. She was the ideal house dogcalm, thoughtful, and almost motherly.
Daisys ears still ached in the cold, so Id tie a soft scarf around her head for walks. She didnt mind at all, and wore it proudly, shuffling along like a tiny, very dignified old lady.
Mrs. Whiskerson, the cat, came to me herself. Early one morning, racing off to a shift, a snowy, shivering bundle screeched at my feetstarved, desperate, and half-wild. I let her into the hall to warm up by the radiator, handed over two cheese and ham sandwiches, and stuck a note on the wall: Please dont chase the cat away! Ill collect her after my shift. If she makes a mess, Ill tidy it. Veronica in Flat 15.
At home, with no hesitation, I named her Mrs. Whiskersonafter my own middle name, and she took to it instantly. Large, strict, yet honourable despite her time on the street, she soon took charge of the household. Everyone obeyed her rules on cleanliness and behaviour. Each night, Mrs. Whiskerson patrolled the flat, making sure everything and everyone was in place.
Finally came quiet little Teddy, a kitten I saved from being attacked by crows in the park. Even grown, Teddy remained gentle, shy, never getting into fights. All five, former strays, lived together in harmony, trying their best not to trouble me.
I doted on my furry crew, knowing full well not every potential partner would be pleased to find themselves in a house with two dogs and three cats. Grandma always sighed and tried to warn me.
Oh, Veronica, love, just thinkso many pets. Not everyone will care for that, you know. Young men these days, they want everything perfect. Itll put most of them off, they dont love animals the way you do.
If thats true, then hes not my sort and I dont want him anyway, Gran.
And so it proved. Andrew and I met when Id started as a nurse, dated half a year. Turns out he couldnt stand pets. After we parted, I didnt miss him for long.
Then David appeareda handsome, cheerful lad, a swimming champ. He certainly knew how to make an impression: extravagant bouquets, romantic walks, often helping walk Ruby and Daisy. We were soon talking wedding.
But my pets became wary of him. Ruby growled outright, Daisy ran and hid behind me, the cats stayed well away, and Mrs. Whiskerson hissed whenever he tried to stroke her.
One evening, preparing tea, I caught sight of David in the garden below. Cheerful David was now sneering as he lashed out at Daisy for stepping on his shoes. Ruby tried to help but got the leash across her face for her trouble.
I dashed outside, grabbed the leashes from Davids hands, andwithout a wordsmacked him harshly across the knuckles with the leash.
Veronica! What are you doing? That hurt!
Now I understood why my pets disliked him so much.
It hurts, does it? Did you think it didnt hurt them? How dare you strike my animals? Who else gets on your nervesmaybe youll slap me next?
Oh, come on, I was only teaching them not to jump up.
Get outand never darken my door again.
Gladly. Whod want to live in a flaming zoo anyway! he sneered, laughing. Absolute menagerie!
I struggled after this, Davids cruel words echoing for months. Id thought he was The One, but really, I barely knew what simmered behind his cheery, easy-going mask.
A year passed, and, almost resigned to being alone forever, I fell in love for real. The very day we met, seeing Alex across the A&E department as he wrote up a case, it was as though Id been struck by lightning. Id never believed in love at first sight, thinking it just a storybook tale. Id been so wrong.
Alex, a trauma surgeon, quietly got my number from work and called the next day. He brought flowers, took me to the theatre, and at every meeting, I felt more certain of his sinceritysteadfast, a little shy, deliberate in everything he said.
It frightened me. What if it ended like all the rest? I couldnt bear it, not again. So I decided not to tell him about my animals. If we marriedthen Id come clean. Otherwise, Id risk losing him before we even had a chance.
Six months later, Id met Alexs sister, Sophie, and her husband. We drove to Kent to meet his parents, hed dined with Grandmaeverything was moving forward. But hed never visited my place, though Id spent weekends in his tidy bachelor flat. My endless excuses about sick relatives and contagious flu were running thin.
It was time to do something: confess about the pets or keep lying. In the end, I moved all my animals back to Grandmasbeds, bowls, boxes, the lot. Ruby and Daisy knew Grandmas well; the cats adored her and even befriended Biscuit. I was more worried about myself feeling empty.
Grandma was none too pleased. Veronica, darling, thats not right. Dr Alexander seems a fine man, but youre starting your marriage on a lie.
Gran, I cant live without himor without them. You know that. What else can I do?
Well then. You visit them every day when youre not working. But remember, this wont end happily.
So every day after work, I visited my furry crew and missed them dearly. Alexs suspicions faded, and one evening he presented me with a ringan amethyst heart.
Im afraid I come with little to my name, I laughed, dizzy with happiness.
We booked the registry office, drafted guest lists, tested cakes, and hurried about. After a long shift, Alex and I finally arrived at my flat to sort out the guest listand quickly grab lunch.
Bleary with exhaustion, Alex went to throw away the rubbish, but the kitchen bin overflowedspilling packets of cat biscuits and dog food.
Wheres all this from? he asked.
Oh, just some old things, Alexnever mind, I muttered, steering the conversation away.
Meanwhile, at Grandmas, shed let Ruby and Daisy out for a run in the snowy garden while chatting to the postie about her pension. The door nudged half-open. Mrs. Whiskerson, Tom, and Teddy slipped out (only Biscuit remained inside). Dogs and cats gathered in a little huddle, then set out through the fresh snow. Ruby led bravely, Mrs. Whiskerson bringing up the rear to make sure no one strayed.
Pedestrians stared at the odd parade at zebra crossings. Ruby remembered the route and led the pack home to me, tails up. Daisys scarf had slipped sideways, and passersby grinned at her determined little trot.
Alex heard something scratching and mewing at the front door. He opened itand gawped. In charged Daisy, scarf askew; Ruby close behind, and three snowy cats. All looked thrilled to be home.
Well! Alex said, whos this pack belong to?
I rushed out, covered my red face in my hands, and burst, silent, into tears of shame.
Veronica, theyre all yours?
Yes. They were at Grandmas.
Seeing their mistress cry, Ruby and Daisy immediately began to bark at Alex, while Mrs. Whiskerson glared and hissed.
So, no dowry, you said? he teased gently.
Alex put on his coat and left. I phoned Grandma so she wouldnt worry, but otherwise felt hollowno wedding, this was what I deserved, I thought, cuddling my returned, eager pets. I didnt ring Alex, feeling too ashamed. My face throbbed from sobbing.
A few hours later, the doorbell rang. Alex stood there, arms full of expensive cat and dog food. He dropped the bags, then turned to fetch more.
Ill be right backdont lock up.
Moments later he returned, leading a dachshund in a bright red coat. Meet Nickymy dog, and this is Rosie. He gently pulled a ginger cat from under his coat. Shes been staying with Sophie. Will your team take us in?
Years on, Alex and I often laugh about the day my unsuitable dowry came charging home. Who knowswithout it, perhaps we wouldnt share this life after all.
