Glass Ceilings (47 page)

S
he
gasped and froze
as recognition
dawned. She
knew
the
big-hearted
fisherman.

It was
Royce.

Later that week, Verity dressed in
a long-sleeved polo shirt, cotton cargo pants
and her old joggers, and tucked her hair under a baseball cap.
She hoped an evening stroll
might
clear her hea
d and tire her so she
’d sleep better
.
H
er recent restless nights and the increasing pressures at wor
k were combining to exhaust her,
as were
her
effort
s
to keep
her
defiant,
wandering thoughts at bay.

The air was cool
as she stepped out of her
apa
rtment, and a
vigorous
sea breeze was blowing
. The soothing sound of
waves tumbling onto the sh
ore drew her towards the beach. S
he found herself heading
, out of habit,
towards
a small park
close to the water
.
She could feel the tension of the past weeks shifting as sh
e walked
, breathing
in the
cleansing salt air.
When a sudden strong gust
blew
straight off the ocean, making her adjust her step and grab
her cap to stop it flying off, s
he gave a wide grin
.

C’mon, give it your best shot! You can huff and you can puff but you won’t blow me down!

Laughing, she
flung
h
er arms wide to make herself a
bigger target for the blustery breeze. Leaning into its salty force, she threw back her head and relished the challenge
, thinking,
i
t takes more than that to keep a good girl down, and more than any challenges my ‘c
olleagues’
–including Royce James–can throw at me.
But her treacherous heart did a somersault at the thought of him
,
and she dropped her arms to her side again
.

Damn
it
,
wh
y am I letting him make me feel
so ... out of sorts
?

Hearing a c
ry overhead, Verity raised her eyes
and
spot
ted
a sea eagle, high above her, winging its way towards the ocean.
She stopped to watch the graceful
bird ride the air currents
, and then carried
on
towards the park.
Drawing near, she hear
d
a
murmur of voices
on the breeze
, and
it occurred to her
there might be
something happening
in the park
that evening.
It was a popular meeting spo
t for local clubs and families.
When she
got
there,
she saw a group of about twenty people
,
all
with dogs
on leads
, milling around
.
A
s she watched
,
some members of
the group
formed
themselves into a line.

Oh
rats
, she thought to herself,
it’s the dog obedience club. Rosie told me they hold meetings
here
. T
here goes my peaceful stroll along the beach front
.

But i
t felt good being
outside in the fresh air,
und
er the waving palm trees, so Verity
decided to sit and watch
f
or a while, thinking that
the antics of both dogs and handlers could be entertaining
.
S
he
moved to where s
he could see the group
more clearly, illuminated as they were under
temporary
lights
set up around the park
, making it into an arena of sorts
.

She took a seat on a comfortably round rock just outside the reach of the lights
. The participants faced away from her, towards
a man—the trainer, she assumed—who stood
in the
centre of the
arena
. Verity felt herself relaxing, enjoying being an unobtrusive spectator on a comfortably homely scene.

The class
members
went
through their
paces with varying degrees of success. Some handlers confused their dogs by giving the
m the wrong signals, while some
dogs confused t
heir handlers by ignoring
commands
completely
.
By the bad behaviour of some of the canine students
,
Verity guessed this was a new class. She
smiled
and stretched to get more comfortable.

The
trainer
called
to
some
one
standing at the side, and a
tall,
athletic-looking man
,
dressed smartly in a pair of cream moleskin pants and a striped rugby shirt
, stepped up with his dog.
The golden l
abrador’s grey muzzle
and stiff
movements
revealed its age, but there was
no doubting
its obvious pleasure at being by its master’s side,
ready to do
his bidding.
The dog’s
tail was
a fan in continual motion as it
gaze
d
devotedly
at its handler
.

‘
Dear old
pooch
,’ Verity murmured to herself
.

The traine
r
addressed the new group briefly before walking off to t
he side,
leaving the handler and his
dog in the spotlight.

You’re on centre stage now,
Verity thought with a shiver of anticipation.
She
saw
the handler
lean down and
stroke
t
he top of his co-performer’s
head
,
before st
raightening to begin
a
display
that
was
obviously
for the newbies’ benefit.
As she watched
,
the man walked with
the
dog at heel for the length of the
lit
area, before turning sharply to retrace his steps. All the time, the old dog stayed as close to
its
master’s left leg
as was physically
possible.
It was as though
a firm bond tied them together
.

The handler came to an a
brupt stop
and so did the dog,
who
dutiful
ly
, if a little stiffly,
sat on the ground at
it
s master’s feet.
Verity
smiled w
hen she
saw a strong hand briefly
touch
the dog’s upturned head
again
,
and
then
the man issued the command to heel, and
once
more
they were walking.
This time
, when he
stopped
,
t
he
man
gave a hand command to the dog
and it
dropped a little gingerly to the ground. The man walked away without looking a
t
the dog, whose eyes followed
it
s master’s every step
.

The handler
stopped at the edge of the illuminated area and
turned
. Verity could
sense
this was a re
al test. T
he dog’s natural instinc
t would be to run to its
master, but it remained
obediently
on the ground
,
awaiting the next command
.
The man
walked towards
it
bu
t
continued
on,
right
past
the dog
.
It didn’t move
, but followed
its
master with
its
ears
. Finally, the handler ca
me to the dog’s side and gave
the command to ‘heel’. The old dog instantly obeyed
, but not without a few wobbles as
it
raise
d
its
stiffening body
to its feet.

Compassion
welled
inside Verity.
Despite
it
s
advancing age
,
t
he
dog
wanted
only
to please it
s mast
er
.
T
he
handler
bent
,
speaking low words of encouragement and praise
to his old friend
, giving
the dog
time to regain
it
s feet
properly
. Then the man gave a command and he and the dog both bowed at the audience
.

He’s so gentle with
the old
pooch
, Verity
thought to herself,
and
so proud of him. He
doesn’t
seem to
care that they’re on show.

She
couldn’t help admiring the great partnership
between the man and his dog
, and she joined everyone else in applauding
the
performance.
She
watched the
m
walk
out of the spotlight
to
wards
another, smaller
group,
gathered
nearer
to where she sat. The handler went down on his knees to hug his dog, and Verity caught her first glimpse of his
face
.

With a shoc
ked gasp, she sat bolt upright.
The
tall man
’s
profile
was familiar,
all too familiar.

The dog handler
was
Royce!

Verity
gave a disbelieving shake of her head, and thought,
will that man
ever stop turning up unexpectedly
, and surprising me by being human
?

She dropped her chin onto her
chest for a moment, and sighed.

No, t
hat’s not fair.
He didn’t ask me to be here.
She gave another sigh.

Not the man we think he is
…
yes, quite.

On impulse,
Verity
rose
to her feet
but
qu
ickly crouched again, on the realisation
Royce might notice her
from where he stood.

That
’d be great, having him catch
me
sitting here,
watching him. What would he make of that?

Groa
ning inwardly, she
settled in
to wait until it was sa
fe to leave.
Finally,
the group disband
ed
and people
headed
towards their cars.

‘
At last,
’
she whispered to herself,
‘
here’s my chance.
’
But
as she
got to her feet
,
Verity’s cap fell off and tumbled
into the illuminated area
. Cursing softly under her breath, she
hastily
retrieve
d
it
.
Impatiently
stuffing her hair under the cap and
jamming
it
back
on her h
ead
, s
he didn’t
see Ro
yce turn in her direction.