Free Rescuing Rose by Isabel Wolff Page A

balls in a bingo hall. It was like being on Ricki Lake.
    'Well, I'm… sorry, ' I said again, impotently.
    'But I decided to stay put. I loved this house, and being early Victorian it actually suits me quite well. No steps up to the front door and there's no basement. I've got a downstairs loo. And the stair-lift gets me up to my bedroom—I've got another wheelchair up there. The house has been modified a bit. My kitchen worktops are slightly lower for example; but I haven't had the internal doors widened—hence the gloves—because I don't want to live in a "disabled" house. But I have a roll-in shower, and I had the patio doors changed to a slide system to make it easier to get outside. '
    'You're amazing, ' I said, awestruck by her courage. 'But I expect people often say that. '
    'I'm just resigned that's all. I
was
bitter about it, but then six months ago I got Trevor from Helping Paw. He was a throw-out, ' she added. 'He was found on a motorway at three months. '
    'Oh. Poor baby, ' I said. 'Poor little baby, ' I repeated softly, although, as I say, I don't really like dogs.
    'He used to be a Guide Dog, 'Beverley explained, 'but it didn't work out. '
    'In what way?'
    She glanced at Trevor, then lowered her voice.
    'He was
hopeless
at crossing the road. In fact, well, put it this way, 'she added darkly as Trev stared at the floor, 'he'd had three previous owners before me. But being an assistance dog suits him
much
better—doesn't it, Trevor?'
    'Woof!'
    And now I watched him gazing at Beverley, as he waited for his next command. It was as though she were a film star, and he her number one fan.
    'What devotion, ' I said. 'He really loves you. '
    'Not half as much as I love him. ' Suddenly the telephone rang. Trevor trotted into the hall, returned with the cordless handset in his mouth, and passed it to Beverley. She spoke briefly, then hung up. 'Sorry about that, ' she said. 'It was the local radio station. They want to record an interview with us. I don't mind as I'm never that busy and it helps to publicise Helping Paw. It's a new charity, ' she explained, 'so they need some good press. And we don't mind, do we, Trev? By the way, is it okay if I have your phone number, ' she added, 'in case of emergency?'
    'Of course. ' I gave it to her, and she programmed it in, then Trevor put the handset back.
    'And what do you do for work?' I asked as I got up to leave.
    'Telephone sex. '
    'Really?
    'No! Just kidding!' she laughed. 'I teach English over the phone to foreign students. It's mind-blowingly boring but it pays the bills. '
    'And is that what you did before?'
    She shook her head and, for the first time in an hour, her smile slipped.
    'I was a PE teacher, ' she said.
    So that solves the mystery of the hockey sticks I thought as I unlocked my front door a few minutes later. I felt simultaneously drained and inspired by my encounter with Bev though I was horrified to see I'd picked up some of Trevor's hairs. I carefully removed every single one with a brush, and then tweezers, as I listened to my answerphone.
    'Hi! I saw your ad, my name's Susan… Hi, I'm a pharmacist and my name's Tom… Hello, this is Jenny and I'm a single Mum… 'I'd only been out for an hour and I'd already had three replies. Over the weekend I had twelve more, of whom I arranged to see five.
    First was a lugubrious looking engineer called Steve. He inspected the whole house, opening all my kitchen cupboards—bloody cheek!—as though he were buying it, not renting a room. Then came Phil who sounded promising but who spent half the time staring at my legs. Then there was an actor called Quentin who was jolly, but he couldn't stand birds and he smoked. After him came Annie, who was twenty-three, and who found everything 'reely nice. ' The house was 'reely nice, ' the room was 'reely nice, ' and she worked in marketing and that was 'reely nice' too. After five minutes of this I wanted to stab her but instead smiled and said I'd 'let her know. '
    'That