MirrorMirror

29 / The Cocker, the Poo and the New

The breeder's house was on the other side of town, and Cass would normally have had his music playing, streamed from his phone and with the volume turned up too loud.

He didn't listen at this volume to turn heads or feel as if he were impressing people. He liked music and, with the excellent sound system in the car (one of the reasons he bought that model), the volume brought with it a sense of being elsewhere. He could have been at a concert. He could have been on stage performing himself. He could have been in his bedroom using a hairbrush as a microphone.

He wouldn't have many other uses for it, with his hair always kept short enough to use his fingers and palms for styling.

Driving to the dog breeder was a journey taken in silence. Amy was on his mind. And Elise. And relationships generally, including the lack of them. He'd not often spent a great deal of time alone, and had to admit he found the prospect daunting. What would he do with his time? How would he cope with no one to talk to? If there was no one to give their opinion or ask his? How would he decide what to watch on an evening? Would he become aimless and either stay up until stupid o'clock watching nothing or fall asleep on the sofa right after he'd eaten.

He could see himself becoming more of a recluse, He didn't want that. He wanted a life outside of his own misery. Were relationships the only way to do that? He wasn't sure. There'd always been one. With partners, siblings and parents. There hadn't just been him and his reflection. Now his reflection wasn't only his own.

Amy was a companion he hadn't asked for. She was a squatter who was in residence when he moved in and was unable to leave. He hadn't had the opportunity to find out if he could enjoy being alone. When he and Elise had split, he'd had been looking forward to finding out who, exactly, Cassidy was. He could no longer do so.

Did he mind? Did it bother him? Did he resent the chance being taken from him?

No. He didn't. In fact, he welcomed it.

It wasn't just because it would remove the feelings of isolation. He would have been able to negotiate those hurdles, after a while, without her. It also wasn't because of the distinct difference between Amy and Elise. Whereas the latter was quick to judge and quicker to criticise, Amy didn't seem the type to do that. She had a sharp wit, which wasn't used to cut.

If he had been speaking to anyone else, they'd no doubt say he was developing feelings for Amy. There was no situation where that could work. One couldn't have a relationship with a ghost, for want of a better word. Whether she was one or not, the term applied. Cassidy wasn't ignorant of that face, and didn't think of her in that way. He liked that she was there. He liked the sarcasm. She had become a friend.

She was in need of his help, and he needed to convince her of that. He didn't think that was one of the reasons for accepting her so easily. He didn't require a cause to function, that was certain. While she needed the help, he was prepared to give it. When she no longer did, he would happily continue their friendship.

So, the dog. If he was fine alone, or as alone as Amy's presence allowed, why did he want a pet?

A dog was a different sort of companion. It was a bond of another type entirely. Cassidy did miss that. The playfulness. The relaxing effects of the animal laying next to him and being stroked. The race to the door for letters before they were chewed. The pet might have changed over the years, but that attachment had always been there.

Pulling into the driveway of the address he'd been given, he turned off the engine and sat still for a moment. He wanted the excitement to fill him. He could feel it in his stomach, bubbling. His mouth was dry, and he felt as if a giggle was waiting to erupt from his lips. The child in him was still alive and well, and had resurfaced to meet the new addition to Cass's home.