THE BRIDE
I watched in disbelief as my fiancé, his face twisted with anger, struck little Maud, my dachshund, just because shed accidentally put a muddy paw on his fresh white trainers. Bonnie, my loyal mongrel, tried to defend her friend, but received a heavy, stinging slap with the leather lead across her muzzle for her trouble. In that instant, I understood at last why my menagerie of cats and dogs never liked Matthew.
I sat by the window deep in thought, unmoved by the winter evening drawing in and the golden lights winking on in the neighbours houses across rainy London. These days, it made no difference whether it was bright or dark outsideI had plenty on my mind.
It seemed on paper that I had everything: a tidy flat, a decent job with the ambulance service, and a life more comfortable than most. But no matter how hard I tried, my romantic life was hopelessly unlucky. Time was ticking away, all my old school friends were married and raising children, and there I was, left on my owna spinster in the making, so it seemed.
Why me? I thought, glancing at my beloved, sympathetic animals cuddled around me. Am I really so much worse than anyone else?
My parents were gone earlyone after the otherand Id been raised by my grandmother, dearly loved, determined since I was a girl that Id become a nurse. But after school, I failed to make the cut for Kings Colleges medical school and instead enrolled at St Georges nursing college as a paramedic. These days, I spent endless hours on shift in the back of an ambulance.
My grandma had long since settled in a little cottage near Oxford, hoping to give me space for a personal life. It never quite panned out. As a child, Id desperately wanted pets, but Mums fur allergy had put paid to that. I found that out the day I came home, beaming, with a stray ginger kittenpoor Mum began wheezing, and I had to take the little chap, which I promptly named Ginger, to Grans instead.
Once my parents were gone, another cat arrivedgrey and shy, found outside the bins and christened Timothy. Id always craved a dog, but Gran worried about the responsibility.
Now, instead of a partner, I had five devoted, furry friends. Without them, life would have felt unbearable. Bonnie was a wiry mongrel pup Id found shivering outside the Tesco, being chased off by the security guards. I bundled the poor, flea-ridden scrap into my bag and brought her home, saving her from the cold.
She was clever as anything, a whirlwind on four legshence the name Bonnie, after Bonnie Tylers hit Holding Out for a Hero playing on the radio as I first bathed her. She soon became best mates with Timothy.
And that was just the beginning. Not long after, Maud the dachshund joined our family. Shed been ditched by neighbours whod taken her in only to decide, at the last moment, that shed ruin the new carpets and sofas. It was winter, and they simply left her in the courtyard as they drove off for good.
The poor little thing spent a week whimpering by the entrance, desperately trying to sneak inside before her predicament reached me through the local dog-walkers grapevine. I brought Maud home, spent ages nursing her frostbitten earsshe turned out to be the most perfect, calm, houseproud little dog, like a wise old woman. On cold walks, I tied a knitted scarf round her head; she wore it contentedly and looked every inch the strict little pensioner, marching down the path.
Mavis, the bossy tabby cat, appeared of her own accord. One chilly morning as I was leaving for a night shift, she darted at my anklesa ball of fluff and ice, howling with hunger and cold. I let her inside to the radiator, shared my cheese and ham sandwiches, and pinned a note to the hallway door: Please, dont throw out the cat! Will collect after work and clean up any mess! Alice, Flat 4B.
Back home, I promptly named her Mavisshe instantly responded, and quickly became our dignified, orderly matriarch. She laid down the house rules for all and sundry, even conducting nocturnal inspections to make sure everyone was behaving.
Last to join the crew was dear little Freddie, a shy kitten I rescued from a flock of crows in the park. As he grew, he retained that same quiet, agreeable naturenever quarrelling or scrapping, always gentle and content.
All five of my once-neglected waifs lived peacefully, trying their best never to upset their slightly frazzled owner. I adored them, yet I knew that not every serious-minded man would appreciate a small zoo in his living room. My gran always reminded me of that:
Alice, love, do you really need so many? Two dogs, three catsyour flat isnt the smallest, but most men wont be so keen. Not everyones as soft on animals as you, darling.
Id always shrug. Well Gran, then hes not the one for me.
So it went. I dated a fellow called James for six months when Id first started working for the ambulance service, but he barely tolerated my pets. I wasnt heartbroken, just quietly disappointed.
Then Matthew came alonghandsome, funny, a county swimming champion, smooth with his words and, at first, happy to help walk Bonnie and Maud. Wedding plans soon followed.
But my animals began to avoid him. Bonnie barked, Maud hid behind me and yapped, the cats stayed away entirely, and Mavis hissed if he came near her. Then one evening, while boiling potatoes, I caught Matthew out on the balcony: with that twisted, angry face, he struck Maud for muddying his trainers. Bonnie tried to defend her, only to be belted across the face.
I stormed outside, snatched the leads from his hand, and whipped his wrist with all my strength.
Alice, what are you doing? That hurt! he protested.
Did it? Funny, you didnt seem to care about hurting them. How dare you hit my animals? Am I next, then?
What? It was just a tap, to teach them not to get underfoot.
Get out and dont come back!
Fine by mewhod want to live in a blasted zoo? he sneered, storming out.
The bitterness of it all gnawed at me for weeks. For nearly a year, Id assumed Matthew and I were meant to be; but truly, I never even knew the real himdidnt see the cruelty beneath his charming mask.
A year drifted by. I was almost resigned to my solitary fate when love blindsided me, as it always seems to when you least expect it.
We met by chance. Alex Jacobs, an orthopaedic surgeon, was on call the night a bad road accident came in. As I bustled into the hospital bay, our eyes met, and I felt an inexplicable spark, like electricity. Id always thought that love at first sight was pure nonsensemore at home in romance novels than real life. I was wrong.
Alex made use of his hospital contacts to get my number and phoned me the very next evening. We started seeing each other, and I soon realised that this tall, reserved man was deeply genuine in his intentions. It was all so wonderful and terrifyingwhat if it went wrong, just like before? I couldnt bear that pain again. So I decided not to tell Alex about my menagerie, at least not until we were married.
Six months passed. Alex introduced me to his sister Charlotte and her husband; we even made the trek up to Cumbria to meet his parents. Hed visited Gran with me a few times, but hed never been to my flat, and my excuses about relatives with the flu were wearing thin.
Something had to give. Either I confessed to my animal hoard, or I kept living the lie. In the end, I could stand it no longer. I bundled all the animals and their necessities off to Grans cottage for a whileBonnie and Maud were used to the place, the cats adored her, and Ginger, my first ginger tom, had always preferred Gran anyway.
Gran was unimpressed. Alice, this isnt right. Alex is a decent man; you shouldnt start things with a lie.
Gran, I cant lose him! And I cant give them up. What else can I do?
Just promise youll visit every day youre not on shift. I dont like this, Alice, but I see you have to find out for yourself.
I visited the animals every day, missing them terribly. Alexs suspicions faded. Then one evening, he proposed, presenting a delicate amethyst ring shaped like a heart.
I hope you realise I havent got much of a dowry, I said, laughing, swept up in happiness.
We put in the paperwork at the registry office; with the wedding looming, I hardly saw straight for all the preparations. Wedding dresses, restaurant menus, ringsit was a blur.
Finally, one afternoon, after an exhausting shift, I brought Alex back to my place to go over guest lists and menus. Desperate to relax, we shared a pot of teaAlex offered to take out the rubbish and found cat food and dog biscuit wrappers spilling over in the bin.
Whats all this, Alice?
Ohjust leftovers, nothing important I changed the subject rapidly.
Meanwhile, over at Grans, shed let Bonnie and Maud out into the garden while chatting to the postie. The old lady left the gate open a crack as she ushered in the postwoman for a cup of tea, unwittingly allowing Mavis, Timothy and Freddie to slip out behind the dogs. Off they all trotted, paws pattering in a single file down the roadBonnie in front, Mavis as the rear guard, not letting anyone stray.
Passersby gawked at the sight, especially as they crossed the zebra crossings. Bonnie led the way unerringly. Maud, now older and trotting along, had her scarf all askew to the delight of smiling onlookers.
Alex was in the kitchen when he heard scrabbling and whining at the door. He opened it to find the entire animal brigadedachsie in scarf, another dog, and three snowy, cheerful catstrooping inside as if they owned the place.
Well, what have we here?
I rushed in, face burning with shame, and slumped onto the shoe rack, covering my face.
Are these all yours, Alice?
Yes. They were at Grans
Bonnie and Maud immediately began barking at Alex, with Mavis hissing her disapproval.
And you said you had no dowry! Alex grinned.
He wordlessly grabbed his coat and left. Ichoked back tears, certain Id ruined everything.
Thats it, I thought, cradling my pets. The weddings off; Ive only myself to blamewasnt honest, and now theres nothing left. I felt hollow with griefnot just for Alex, but for deceiving both him and myself.
Hours later, the doorbell rang. There stood Alex, arms laden with bags of the best pet food. Smiling, he set them down and popped out again.
Dont shut the door! he called.
In a moment, he returned, leading a proud dachshund in a snazzy red coat.
This is my dog, Nikki, and this is Minniemy sisters ginger cat. Any chance they can join your team?
Years have passed, and Alex and I still laugh about that chaotic week before our wedding. Who knows how things might have turned out without that dowrymaybe wed never have ended up so happily, surrounded by our odd, loud, furry family. I learned, at last, that honesty really is the best policy, and that the right person will always accept every part of youeven the four-legged bits.
