The Blanket Thief

1

Orpington

"You know what we need, Mark, don't you?"

"What's that, dear?" I noticed he didn't take his eyes off of the TV programme he was watching.

"We need a holiday. Just somewhere hot for a week, that's all. How about it, just you and me?" That's all it was meant to be, just a nice relaxing week in the sunshine.

"Oh, that sounds good, but I'm not sure I can get any time off at the moment; there's a big project coming up at work."

"There's always something going on; it's never a good time, is it? Maybe you just need to put your foot down for once and tell them you're going. Come on, we really need a break." I could feel myself getting upset, just thinking about the endless days ahead of us, with nothing to look forward to except work, work, and more work. As a community support officer for the Met Police, my job involved working some really unsociable hours, sometimes finishing at 2am. This meant having to get into my uniform and go to work when everyone else was coming home. I had started to resent not being able to spend time with my family; we were like ships passing in the night.

"What about going back to Cyprus? We had a great time there last year, didn't we? We can volunteer at the rescue centre again."

"Yeah, I suppose so, but what about the kids? We can't just leave them on their own. God knows what'll happen."

"Of course we can. They're old enough to look after themselves, and I'm sure they'll love having the house to themselves for a week. We can always get Rod and Chris to keep an eye on them. Come on, love, just think about it. We could be lying in the sun, drinking cocktails, beside that lovely pool in no time." Rod and Chris were good friends of ours from the church that we went to; our kids were the same ages and had grown up together. Marcus had just started university in London and was commuting by train each day, while Leah was still in her last year at school. They were great kids with lots of friends between them. We could definitely trust them to take care of the house and the dog while we went away.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do," Mark conceded. "But can we afford it? That bloody mortgage has gone up again; it's just relentless. I sometimes wonder why we bother working at all."

"What about your bonus? Isn't that due soon?" I smiled, hopefully.

"Yeah, let's just do it, Ju. We'll find a cheap deal and go for it. I'll talk to Geof tomorrow."

"Woo Hoo! Did you hear that, Kai? We're going on our holibobs." Mark laughed as I hugged our bewildered lurcher.

The very next day, I began searching for flights to Northern Cyprus. It was coming up to Easter, so they were quite expensive, but I wasn't going to be beaten; we really needed this holiday. I emailed the company that we had used on our last visit, hoping they would have another 'special offer' for us. One of the benefits of going to Northern Cyprus at this time was that it was still outside of the Euro zone, and things were relatively cheap compared to a lot of other places. We discovered this beautiful island by chance, really. A friend at work had been out there on holiday and came back raving about this amazing place. I decided to do a bit of research and uncovered lots of interesting facts about it, including why it was split into two separate islands. While we were there, we learnt a lot from talking to local residents and reading about the history of the island. In 1974, after years of hostilities, Turkish forces invaded Cyprus, and there was fierce fighting between the Greek Cypriots and the Turkish population. This led to thousands of people being displaced and the setting up of a United Nations buffer zone known as the green line. As Ercan Airport was built on land that officially still belongs to former Greek residents, it is seen as illegal to everyone apart from the Turks. The capital Nicosia is currently the only divided capital city in the world.

I received an email back from the travel company with the details of various packages they had on offer. The one that caught my eye included return flights and a week at the Pia Bella Hotel in Kyrenia. This was a fabulous place, where we had stayed on our previous visit. The kids loved the idea of having the house to themselves for a week, and I just hoped that nothing would happen to stop us from going. Once I had an idea in my head, I found it difficult to think about anything else. The sound of the phone ringing jolted me out of my daydream.

"Hiya." Mark sounded a bit despondent. "Bad news, I'm afraid, traffic's murder. I'm probably not going to be back until around eight. Just eat without me, and I'll have mine when I get home. Do you want me to pick Leah up from the gym?"

"Oh yes please, if you get back in time, that'll save me going out in the rain again."

Leah did gymnastics on three evenings a week at the Walnuts sports centre in Orpington while her brother Marcus was huddled up in his bedroom, playing computer games.

"Whereabouts are you? Is it the M25 again?" Mark worked for a large international brewery that had relocated from Kent to Bedfordshire. He loved his job, so decided to commute. This could sometimes mean a four-hour journey each way.

"Yep, looks like a car park. I've turned my engine off, as we're going nowhere at the moment. I'll let you know when I get across the bridge."

When the children were young, I often felt like a single parent, as Mark would have to leave early in the morning for work and not return until they were tucked up in bed. This endless round of work, kids and sleep sometimes left me depressed; I yearned for a different life, but I had no idea how I was going to change things. Despite working all the hours God sent, we never seemed to have much money to spare.

"Guess what? I found us a really good deal, and it means we can stay at the Pia Bella!"

"Oh, that's great. Geof's going to work out some dates for me tomorrow; looks like we're going on holiday!"

The weeks leading up to our holiday seemed to last forever, just an endless cycle of working, eating, and sleeping. But at least now we had something to look forward to. Finally, the big day arrived, suitcases were packed, cupboards were stocked with food for the children, and Kai, of course. We left strict instructions about locking the doors and windows when they went out and about. Also, various other useful information, like putting the bins out on Friday and feeding Kai twice a day. I tried not to think about all the things that could go wrong. I was sure they would cope; they were sensible kids.

One of the benefits of living where we did was our proximity to Gatwick airport. If the traffic was behaving, we could easily do it in around 40 minutes. I had to pinch myself in the car. Were we really going away for a week in the sunshine? Just the two of us. After checking our bags in and making it through security, we eagerly made our way to the food section. A nice, cooked breakfast was something we looked forward to before flying anywhere. We could never rely on getting anything edible on the plane; the vegetarian menu was usually very limited or non-existent. It wasn't long before our flight was called, and we made our way to the departure lounge. As we passed WH Smith's, I noticed a large display of Pen Farthing's new book, One Dog at a Time, in the window.

"Oooh, Mark, hang on. I've been waiting ages for that book to come out; it's about this amazing guy who rescues stray dogs in Afghanistan. I need something good to read on the plane."

"But you've already got two in your bag, and that doggy magazine, it's only a six-hour flight, love. Do you really need another book about dogs?"

I smiled as he shook his head and set off towards the exit, calling over his shoulder, "I'll go ahead and make sure they don't leave without you. Don't be too long."

I love to read animal books, especially true stories like this one. I don't think I've ever recovered from reading Anna Sewell's Black Beauty as a child. The mindless cruelty suffered by those poor horses still haunts me today. I snatched up a copy of the eagerly awaited book, noting the Sunday Times bestseller award splashed across the front cover. I couldn't wait to get started on this fascinating account of a Royal Marine who decided to do something about the stray dog population in and around Helmand province. As I waited patiently in the queue for the till, edging forward a millimetre at a time, I heard the final call for our flight to Cyprus.

"That's my flight. Can you hurry, please?" I asked the girl on the till, who looked utterly disinterested in me or my plight. She scanned the book and waited for me to fumble my debit card out of my purse. As soon as the till pinged its acceptance, I snatched the book out of her hand and legged it towards the departure gate.

Mark was pacing back and forth in front of the desk as I ran into the lounge, breathing heavily and struggling with my flight bag and newly acquired book.

"Blimey, Ju, talk about cutting it fine."

He presented both of our boarding passes to the flight attendant, and they ushered us through to join the end of the queue for the airport bus.

"Sorry," I gasped. "But look. How good is this?" I waved my latest treasure under his nose. "This guy's brilliant, I was reading about him in the paper last week; he's a soldier in Afghanistan, but he rescues dogs. It's an amazing story."...