freezing out here.’
Skye climbed nervously out of the car and grimaced when her foot sank into something squelchy. She could hardly see anything, but there was an unpleasant smell in the air and she hoped she hadn’t trodden in dog muck. Nose wrinkled in disgust, she tugged her foot free and quickly followed Tom over to the house.
Terrified that the dog might be waiting to pounce, Skye took a cautious step inside when Tom unlocked the door and waved for her to go in ahead of him. But she stumbled back at the sound of yet more barking, and clutched at his arm.
‘It can’t get me, can it?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,’ Tom assured her as he reached over her shoulder and flicked a switch.
A light flickered on, and Skye saw that they were in a kitchen; every surface of which was littered with empty bottles, cans, and microwave-food cartons, while the sink was crammed with dirty pots and pans. There was a bad smell in the air, and she guessed it was coming from the overflowing bin that was standing beside the grease-splattered cooker.
A skittering sound made her jump, and she was terrified when she turned her head and saw a long-haired Alsatian with a matted coat coming towards her. Tom ordered it to get to bed before it reached her, and she was relieved when the dog immediately turned and slunk over to a filthy blanket in the far corner of the room.
Tom slipped his jacket off, tossed it over the back of a chair, and then opened a cupboard and took out a tin of dog food.
‘Hungry?’ he asked, glancing back over his shoulder at Skye as he peeled back the lid.
Skye caught a whiff of the meat and shook her head.
‘I didn’t mean this .’ He grinned. ‘I picked us up a takeaway when Jade asked me to come and get you. Hope you like sweet-and-sour?’
Embarrassed when her stomach rumbled, Skye folded her arms over it and nodded shyly. Sweet-and-sour was her absolute favourite, but they rarely had the money for takeaways in their house so she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had it.
After feeding the dog and tossing the empty can onto the ledge, Tom wiped his hands on his trousers before taking a couple of takeaway cartons out of the fridge. He peeled the lids off and placed them in the microwave, then frowned when he glanced over at Skye and saw her still standing by the door.
‘I hope you’re not going to stand there all night? You’re making me nervous.’
‘Sorry.’ Skye pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down to watch as Tom moved over to the sink and pulled out two plates from the crockery heaped in it. After giving them a quick rinse under the tap, he wiped them dry with a grubby tea-towel. He took the cartons back out of the microwave when it pinged, and shared out the food.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ he apologised, using his elbow to shove a pile of old newspapers off the table so that he could put Skye’s plate down. ‘I meant to clean up before you got here, but I didn’t have time.’
‘It’s okay,’ Skye murmured. She was sure he’d told her that he’d come straight from work when he picked her up, but she guessed that he must have come back here first.
Tom handed a fork to her, and then sat down and got stuck into his food. After a while, he glanced over at Skye and gave her a questioning look when he noticed the way she was picking at hers.
‘What’s up?’ he asked, his mouth full, his cheeks bulging. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘I’m not very hungry,’ she lied, reluctant to admit that the mouldy-looking thing that was stuck between the prongs of her fork was putting her off.
‘Don’t worry; he’ll have anything you can’t manage.’
Tom gave a backwards nod in the dog’s direction, and Skye shivered when she saw that it had finished its own food and was now lying with its head on its paws, its dark gaze riveted to her plate.
When dinner was over, Tom reached for her plate and dumped it and his own in the sink.
‘Do you want me
Skye climbed nervously out of the car and grimaced when her foot sank into something squelchy. She could hardly see anything, but there was an unpleasant smell in the air and she hoped she hadn’t trodden in dog muck. Nose wrinkled in disgust, she tugged her foot free and quickly followed Tom over to the house.
Terrified that the dog might be waiting to pounce, Skye took a cautious step inside when Tom unlocked the door and waved for her to go in ahead of him. But she stumbled back at the sound of yet more barking, and clutched at his arm.
‘It can’t get me, can it?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,’ Tom assured her as he reached over her shoulder and flicked a switch.
A light flickered on, and Skye saw that they were in a kitchen; every surface of which was littered with empty bottles, cans, and microwave-food cartons, while the sink was crammed with dirty pots and pans. There was a bad smell in the air, and she guessed it was coming from the overflowing bin that was standing beside the grease-splattered cooker.
A skittering sound made her jump, and she was terrified when she turned her head and saw a long-haired Alsatian with a matted coat coming towards her. Tom ordered it to get to bed before it reached her, and she was relieved when the dog immediately turned and slunk over to a filthy blanket in the far corner of the room.
Tom slipped his jacket off, tossed it over the back of a chair, and then opened a cupboard and took out a tin of dog food.
‘Hungry?’ he asked, glancing back over his shoulder at Skye as he peeled back the lid.
Skye caught a whiff of the meat and shook her head.
‘I didn’t mean this .’ He grinned. ‘I picked us up a takeaway when Jade asked me to come and get you. Hope you like sweet-and-sour?’
Embarrassed when her stomach rumbled, Skye folded her arms over it and nodded shyly. Sweet-and-sour was her absolute favourite, but they rarely had the money for takeaways in their house so she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had it.
After feeding the dog and tossing the empty can onto the ledge, Tom wiped his hands on his trousers before taking a couple of takeaway cartons out of the fridge. He peeled the lids off and placed them in the microwave, then frowned when he glanced over at Skye and saw her still standing by the door.
‘I hope you’re not going to stand there all night? You’re making me nervous.’
‘Sorry.’ Skye pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down to watch as Tom moved over to the sink and pulled out two plates from the crockery heaped in it. After giving them a quick rinse under the tap, he wiped them dry with a grubby tea-towel. He took the cartons back out of the microwave when it pinged, and shared out the food.
‘Sorry about the mess,’ he apologised, using his elbow to shove a pile of old newspapers off the table so that he could put Skye’s plate down. ‘I meant to clean up before you got here, but I didn’t have time.’
‘It’s okay,’ Skye murmured. She was sure he’d told her that he’d come straight from work when he picked her up, but she guessed that he must have come back here first.
Tom handed a fork to her, and then sat down and got stuck into his food. After a while, he glanced over at Skye and gave her a questioning look when he noticed the way she was picking at hers.
‘What’s up?’ he asked, his mouth full, his cheeks bulging. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘I’m not very hungry,’ she lied, reluctant to admit that the mouldy-looking thing that was stuck between the prongs of her fork was putting her off.
‘Don’t worry; he’ll have anything you can’t manage.’
Tom gave a backwards nod in the dog’s direction, and Skye shivered when she saw that it had finished its own food and was now lying with its head on its paws, its dark gaze riveted to her plate.
When dinner was over, Tom reached for her plate and dumped it and his own in the sink.
‘Do you want me
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