Fletcher topped off his flask with the whiskey he kept hidden in his desk drawer. He took a swig from the bottle before securing the cap. His bedroom door nudged open, and his heart exploded as he shoved the bottle back into his drawer. He turned to see Seamus.
“Oh, boy. I thought you were Mum.”
Seamus sniffed his pant leg and wagged his tail.
Fletcher removed the flask and tucked it into his back pocket, scratched behind Seamus’s ear, and lowered himself to be nose-to-snout with the dog. “Gonna go be a creepy stalker. You fancy to come?”
The cocker spaniel wagged his tail with fervour.
Fletcher was unsure if Seamus was truly excited to accompany him to the meadows or if it just had been the higher-pitched tone of voice he had used to ask. Regardless, he left his bedroom, Seamus in to
