Page 47 of The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

‘You okay, Daisy?’ She raised the tailgate fully, a horrid lump lodging in her throat as she looked in to find the dog’s bed empty. She scanned the rear space again. Had the little dog just shifted into a corner or something? But no. Lucy raced around to check the back passenger seats, then the front … nothing. Empty. No Daisy. Oh my god, where the hell was she? Could she have been stolen? Escaped? Had some drunken idiot opened the vehicle by accident … or on purpose? Had she not quite shut the hatch down properly herself?

She checked it all again, calling out, ‘Daisy! Come on, girl!’ She might well be close by. But even with the boot open, it would be unusual for her to leave the safety and familiarity of her cosy bed.

But shit, yes, there had been the fireworks display towards the end of the celebrations. Her little dog hated fireworks. Poor Daisy, if Lucy had known about them, she would never have brought her. She’d have made other arrangements for her tonight. Where on earth was she?

‘Daisy? Daisy!’ Lucy’s voice was tight, high-pitched with fear.

She could be hiding. She could be anywhere. It was a farm, for goodness sake. She could have been trampled by cows, attacked by pigs, marauding cockerels … marauding party people? Lucy felt panic rise, prickly and chilling within.

‘Are you alright, Luce?’ It was Jack, striding across and looking concerned. ‘What’s Diva Daisy up to now?’

‘I-I don’t know. She was here before … but she’s gone.’ Lucy felt the sting of tears welling up in her eyes.

‘Okay, when did you last see her?’

‘About an hour ago. I took her for a quick walk. She seemed fine, but … I don’t know if I left the boot open, or what? … She’s vanished.’

‘She’ll not be far away. Don’t worry, we’ll find her. Let’s get looking.’

Abby joined the hunt immediately too. A search party began with word spreading amongst the remaining revellers.

Ah … not only had Lucy lost her dog, but she’d managed to put all the guests out too. Lucy cursed herself.

But there was so much dangerous stuff on a farm, places for a small dog to get stuck in … lost in. Had she sniffed out a rabbit, got stuck in a burrow? Oh, bloody hell, why had she even brought her here? She might have been lonely back home, bored and in need of a wee, but at least she wouldn’t be missing.

Right, it was no good fretting. It was time to get on and get searching. Lucy got on her hands and knees and looked under the Jeep, then all around and under the horsebox – inside the horsebox. Thank god, the little dog couldn’t climb as high as the oven.

Food … the hog roast van, that could be a place to check … But Jack was already there and on the case. Adam, the hog roast guy, hadn’t seen a dog at all. Mind you, a dachshund on a mission could very well slink purposefully by, unnoticed.

To add to the mix, heavy drops of rain starting plopping down. Her clothes were getting soaked, but she didn’t care – she had to keep searching. It was then she spotted Jack, white shirt now clinging to his back, climbing a farm gate and heading out to the fields.

Half an hour later, with all the barns and outbuildings checked, and the hosts involved in the search as well as friends and family from the party, Lucy began to feel distraught.

‘She’ll turn up, pet,’ the farmer’s wife, Pat, soothed. ‘Here, why don’t I make you a nice cup of tea and then we’ll go look again, and catch up with the others?’ They were stood out in the yard near the farmhouse’s porch entrance, the rain shower now easing, but a late-evening breeze ruffled by, all too chilling against Lucy’s skin. The birthday balloons were now wilting slightly.

‘I’m sorry … I need to keep going. She means everything to me.’

Memories flooded back of the two of them: Lucy still so raw from the split with Liam and hugging the tear-stained soggy-furred creature so close; Daisy digging up Lucy’s newly-planted flower bed at the cottage this springtime – it had looked like a scene from some floral great escape, but she couldn’t help but laugh.

Lucy found her eyes were misting. Where was she? She’d go back and re-check the Jeep. That would be Daisy’s safe place. She might have trailed back, perhaps with an injury. Lucy’s heart sank just thinking about it.

Then came a shout from inside the farmhouse.

‘I’ve found her!’ It was Jack’s voice, jubilant.

He’d checked with Pat if it was alright to go on inside and take a look, just in case, working on a hunch that a scared and comfort-seeking sausage dog might look for a cosy sofa to curl up on, away from the party and the noisy fireworks going on outside. Jack had noticed that the farmhouse’s door had been left open all evening for access to the porch-based bathroom.

Lucy was running towards the house. ‘Oh, thank god. Is she alright?’ She was still so scared.

Out Jack came, shirt sodden, hair all damp, bearing a still curled-up, slightly affronted-looking Daisy in his arms. ‘She was snoozing on the sofa.’

‘Oh, Daisy. Thank heavens you’re safe …’ Lucy was so relieved. But then paused, addressing Pat and Alan who were now beside her, realising the finale of their special night had been spent hunting for a ‘missing’ sausage dog with a penchant for a cosy sofa. ‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for wasting all your time … She’s been safe inside all the while …’

‘It’s not a problem, lassie. All’s well that ends well. I’m just glad we’ve found her. And we’ve had a lovely evening, all of us,’ said Pat kindly.

‘It’s been a grand party, aye.’ Mr Fifty Farmer stood smiling at his wife’s side. ‘Those pizzas were downright delicious. Went down a real treat.’

‘Thank you. Oh, and thank you all for helping to look for her.’ Lucy turned to address the gathering. ‘Right, well I’d better take Daisy back to the truck, put her away safely, and finish clearing up.’ She suddenly felt a little awkward after all the drama.