‘But I’m not going,’ I said.
She took a deep breath and looked at me. ‘You’ll take care of him, won’t you, Ellie?’
I nodded, bending down to pick him up. Victoria leaned in to stroke him.
Rupert wriggled, then jumped up into her arms.
Either he’d already been Stockholmed, or, I began to wonder, perhaps Victoria had been kinder to him than she’d let on.
‘So,’ she said, peeling him off her and placing him on the floor. ‘Everything all right with you and Nick?’
I nodded, distracted by Rupert arching his back on my carpet.
Victoria squinted her eyes. ‘Right, OK,’ she said, before giving Rupert one final pat on the head. She shut the door quickly before he was able to follow her out.
Moments later, I caught sight of her running back up the front path. She posted a large envelope through my letterbox. Inside were multiple newspaper and magazine clippings highlighting various shocking facts about the US, including but not exclusive to terrorism threats, obesity crisis, gun crime, poor social welfare and the number of unresolved puppy abductions in New York City.
I stuffed the clippings back into the envelope and left it on the side, then took Rupert, along with the list of poisonous plants into our garden. I’d decided to stay home with him that day to settle him in and show him around.
I pushed open the old French doors and stepped out onto the patio, trying to recall the last time I had actually ventured into the mass of weeds and tangled shrubbery that was our ten-metres-square London garden. It must have been over a year ago when we’d just moved in. I placed Rupert down by my feet and watched him explore. To little Rupert, faced with dense foliage over twice his height, it must have seemed like a jungle. He stepped tentatively forward, then a crow squawked and he ran back between my legs. Moments later, he tried again, this time venturing a little further.
Just as I’d spotted a potentially toxic-looking weed, my phone rang again. It was Mandi.
‘Ellie, where are you?’
Rupert bounded back between my legs. I shifted him away from the plant. ‘At home,’ I said.
Mandi paused for a moment as though she didn’t quite know what to do with that information. ‘Doing what?’
I bent down and tugged at the roots. ‘Weeding.’
Mandi paused again. I imagined her twitching her nose. ‘You need to come in.’
I threw the weed onto the patio. Rupert sniffed it then ran back between my legs. ‘Can’t it wait?’ I said.
‘No,’ she replied, more sternly than Mandi usually spoke. ‘It’s important.’
When I arrived at the office, having transported an increasingly perplexed Rupert in his Louis Vuitton dog carry case, Mandi jumped out at me. She was wearing what looked like an Aztec-patterned tepee with a coordinated neck scarf.
‘Ellie, you’re late,’ she said. ‘Into the meeting room quickly.’ Then she stopped, turned and peered into the carry case. She held her hands to her chest and made a high-pitched squealing noise.
‘Aw,’ she said, ‘a puppy! I absolutely love puppies. Did I tell you how much I love puppies? And kittens, of course. I love kittens. But not as much as puppies. Puppies I simply adore. He is just too cute. Can I cuddle him? Please can I?’ She peered in closer. ‘What’s your name, little fellow?’
Rupert growled. I went to turn the carry case away, assuming Mandi’s attire must have alarmed him, when I noticed Dominic standing behind her. Rupert growled again and then bared his tiny teeth.
Dominic sneered at the carry case. ‘No animals in the office,’ he said. ‘Clause 13.5b on our lease. He’ll need to be removed immediately.’
Mandi waved Dominic away. ‘Oh, get a life,’ she said. ‘It’s not as though he’s running wild, chewing the table legs and weeing up your trousers. Besides, it’s essential Ellie is present at this meeting.’
Dominic’s jaw tensed before he followed Mandi, Rupert and I into the meeting room.
Once we were all seated, Mandi flipped open her laptop. I smiled at her, quietly hoping she was about to unveil an e-petition for which she had solicited a hundred thousand client signatures objecting to my relocation.
She stood up and cleared her throat. ‘Eighty per cent of our matchmaking workforce is women,’ she began.
Dominic sighed and checked his watch.
‘Forty-three per cent of those are mothers,’ she continued.
Dominic rolled his eyes.
‘Our maternity package is grim.’ She looked down and started rubbing her tummy. ‘We offer little more than statutory pay, no child-care benefits and no additional support to mothers at all.’
Dominic sat back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. He let out an extended sigh. ‘Have you got something to tell us, Mandi?’
She ignored him. ‘If our business is about bringing couples together, then surely our business should also be about preventing couples from separating.’
I leaned forward.
Mandi continued. ‘If we don’t support the family unit, then how can we say we are supporting the couple?’
Dominic sighed again. ‘So let’s cut to the chase, what do you propose?’
Mandi smoothed down her blonde flicks and pressed some keys on her laptop. ‘I’ll email you my full proposal, but, in short, I would like us to provide on-site childcare, flexi-working hours, extended holidays, extra sick pay when children are poorly, priority parking for pregnant women and breast-feeding stations in the office.’
He laughed again. ‘How about prenatal yoga while we’re at it? Or nappy bins in the meeting rooms. A jungle gym in the lobby?’
Mandi scowled at him.
‘What about paternity rights too?’ I interrupted. ‘One of my closest friends is a house husband.’
Dominic rolled his eyes. ‘Men shouldn’t be looking after babies.’
Mandi and I both stared at him.
Dominic shrugged his shoulders. ‘We’re not built for it,’ he said. ‘We don’t have the hormones or the attributes.’ He nodded to my chest and raised his eyebrows. ‘We were meant for world domination, not bottle feeding and nose wiping,’ he said.
I glanced at Mandi, whose mouth was wide open, then back at Dominic.
Dominic smirked. ‘Although the breast-feeding station sounds intriguing.’
I shook my head and stood up to leave.
Dominic followed me. ‘Oh, by the way, Ellie,’ he said, ‘the investors rejected your request.’
I turned to face him. ‘What request?’
‘The request to conduct your research from the UK.’
I stepped back. ‘I wasn’t aware I had formally requested that yet. I didn’t even know a meeting had been scheduled.’
He leaned forward and squeezed my shoulder. ‘I sent you an email. The meeting was this morning,’ he said. ‘You missed it, while you were tending to—’ he glanced down at Rupert, who was now sleeping in his carry case ‘—your dependant.’
That night Nick and I sat in bed together with Rupert nestled between us. Nick had insisted Rupert not be left alone with the weird heartbeat toy on his first night with us.
‘Dogs are pack animals,’ he’d said, seemingly trying to justify his sentimental side. ‘They feel