Claudia and I Decide To Keep This a Secret (Chapter 25)

Yet another night of overthinking and basically not sleeping, I peeled myself off of the sofa and went and had a sit-down shower. I was getting rather good at these now, it felt kind of odd, yet I knew it was the safest thing to do.

Bloody hell, it was raining again for a change; today, I decided to walk to my warehouse to meet TNT, so I set off early and went via track; it was ages before I saw a car coming. I then went into bird mode, flapping my arms in the rain with my hood up, yet because of the heavy rain and because my head basically is the size of a peanut, I was actually amazed that the car stopped. They did, and they told me how they had seen George the day he went missing around 4pm wandering very close to where the lady had taken the photo.

I then was close to where the lady had taken the photo, and the rain was now easing, and I saw an older gentleman walking his dog. I was so used to stopping people now that I would make an excellent stand-in the street marketer as no bastard was getting past me. “Yes, I saw George,” he said. “Was he walking that way towards the lady who had taken the photo or that way towards the NCBH?” I asked. “Oh definitely that way,” he said, and he pointed towards the NCBH. “What time?” I asked. “Uuuufff not sure but around 4-5pm,” he said.

I had now met TNT, and I was walking home when my phone rang; it was the local newspaper. “We have heard about George. We can help and make a plea for you tonight and post at prime time,” said this chap. “I am busy at the moment. Could we speak in an hour?” I said. “Sure,” he said.

Punching in our Julie’s number, she answered. “Help, the newspaper called, and they are going to post about him tonight,” I babbled. “Christine, you must be clear on the only sighting of George and be very clear with your statement,” she said. We then spoke, and before I knew it, I was home, and the newspaperman was already calling me. “So how old are you?” he said; yes, that was his first bloody question. No, not how old is George, but how old am I, I think I did extremely well hold it together, and I answered every question. I was now becoming used to the cringe situations; I just seemed to go with it.

Claudia then messaged to ask what I wanted to do when she finished work at 2pm, I asked if she could come to mine, and we walk all the dogs across the fields leading to the NCBH. I had one hour to wait, so I started chomping on a calorie booster bar and was flicking through George’s posts; wow, he was being shared now over 3000 times he was being shared to Barcelona and even Australia. I then started flicking through each post that I had written, and every time I could see the words “Shared for Mr George.” No face profile picture, yet I had a feeling it was from an older gentleman.

BEEP BEEP, yes, Claudia was here. I opened the side gate, and Claudia left her car outside the gate. “Just grabbing the leads,” I said. “Just need a wee,” said Claudia. So, off she went into the house while I waited with all the dogs, “Ready,” said Claudia. “Yes, let’s go.” So I locked the door, set the alarm, and off we all went.

I was carrying Steve as it was too wet for him, Kev was on a lead as normal due to being hamster size, and all the rest were running free, Claudia and I were chatting away as we walked across the first field, and then as we got to the second field we both looked at each other at the same time we said: “WHERE IS JEREMY?” Both of our hearts started to pound, and we immediately shouted at all the other dogs, and we turned around and started walking back to the house. “Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy,” we both bellowed. Oh my god, this was so distressing; as we got to mine, I just hit the floor. “Claudia, how the hell do I now put Jeremy on Facebook?” I sobbed. “Right, I will drive to where the photo was taken, and you go by foot across the fields as he must have run ahead of us; maybe he even saw George,” said Claudia. I instantly knew that Jeremy hadn’t seen George; I also knew that Jeremy would never run ahead of us as he always stayed in eye distance. Claudia drove off, and I went with the dogs running across the field, screaming Jeremy’s name all the way.

We both got to the area at practically the same time; as the drive takes you all the way round, yet by foot you can practically get there in a straight line.

So, how do you deal with this? As we got there, the lady that had taken the photo of George was there; she was right there, yet she had my dirty pajama bottoms in her hand. (She did explain as to how she often carried them in the hope that if she were to see George that he would smell them and come to her). I couldn’t deal with it, so Claudia took over and explained how we had lost Jeremy; she told the lady how he was wearing a bright orange collar, and if she sees him, she should contact us. Claudia and I then carried on looking, and then we decided to go back to mine and search my garden.

When we got to mine, we ran down to the bottom field and continued shouting out Jeremy’s name. “We need to check the house,” said Claudia. “Oh my god, what is the point as I clearly remember letting him out of the house,” I said. “OK,” I said, all moody like. “Claudia, he is in the house,” I screamed. So, when Claudia popped in for a quick wee before we left, he must have somehow ran in.

Claudia and I just sat outside at the table and didn’t say a word. Yet then Claudia said, “We never tell a soul; it is our secret.”

Claudia then left, and we did actually manage to smile about what had happened, yet there was no laughing as what we had both been through had really made us both feel a tad sick.

Goodness knows how but I actually managed to cook myself some pasta; I even managed to eat it all. I had fed the dogs, and then my phone started pinging. George had hit the news, and the post was live. I was so grateful, yet reading the article actually physically hurt.

Today had been so awful, and as I went upstairs to clean my teeth, I then sat on the toilet only to take a wee and yet it happened again the sobbing, which then turned into a real meltdown. Snot was everywhere, and this was a real loud cry; if anyone had been in the house, they might have actually thought I was being murdered. The good thing about crying while taking a wee is the amount of tissue that is close.

As I sauntered down the stairs, actually wearing my pajamas I plonked myself on the sofa, and there I stayed until 3am. “Shit boys, mummy is so very sorry she never let you out for last wee wee’s.” That was it. The guilt kicked in, and I was up for the day.

🌐 Leer en Español

🐾 Celebrate your bond with a personalised "Best Friends" paw featuring a photo of you and your pet.