Four
legs can be better than two.
Before we go any further, I’m
outing myself as an animal lover. I’ve a particular fondness for
dogs but there aren’t many that I don’t like. That said, I’m
not keen on animal stories. Although, I don’t mind an animal or two
in a novel. A well-drawn animal character can lighten up a story.
Sometimes, they can even tug on the emotions much more than a human
character can.
It’s
fair to say, animals play a part in the rehabilitation of Annette
Grey. It’s a relatively small part but they do inhabit space within
the story and I hope I’ve made them characters in their own right.
The
star of the animal cast has to be Maud, Annette’s sitting tenant.
Maud comes with the house that Annette moves into. Its former owner,
the late Edith Pinsent, stipulated certain conditions about its next
owner. One being that they must care for Maud, the latest in a long
line of Pinsent dogs. I’ve tried to make Maud a bit comical and
sweet, in a little old lady sort of way. She was, after all, brought
up by an elderly, slightly eccentric spinster. To give you a flavour,
here’s an extract that describes Annette and Maud’s first
meeting:
‘There was a rustling behind
her. She turned around and saw a movement in the grass. Her first
thought was rats. She tensed, then softened when a dog emerged and
trotted towards her. It was on the small side of medium. Although dog
breeds were not her strongest subject, she was absolutely certain
this one had terrier somewhere in its DNA. Its head was square, made
slightly curvy by tufty hair protruding from the edges. The colour of
its wiry coat was hard to pin down but, if she was pushed, Annette
would have called it taupe. Yes, taupe. With the odd splash of white,
grey and just a tiny bit of black.
It sat down, leaning slightly
to one side, dropped the chewed remains of a tennis ball at her feet
and looked straight up at her. Its heavy eyebrows were perched at
acute angles over a pair of dark eyes. The effect was an expression
of permanent anticipation. As if it were waiting for something, or
someone. When it opened its mouth, Annette half expected it to say:
‘Is it you then? Are you the one?’ It didn’t. Obviously.
Instead the little dog yawned and shuffled closer. As its mouth
closed, it made a noise that could only be described as ‘Hrmph.’‘
Annette’s
no dog lover but she immediately warms to Maud. For her part, Maud
seems to consider Annette a suitable replacement for her beloved
Edith and the two settle into comfortable companionship. As long as
Annette doesn’t try to take her for a walk, that is. Maud’s far
too much of a free spirit to trot along on a lead.
Maud
has a suitor. Colonel. An enormous bundle of hair that resembles a
giant Brillo pad on legs. When the inevitable happens, no one can
quite believe that Colonel could be the culprit. Surely it’s a
physical impossibility? As someone says, by way of explanation:
‘Latest theory is that she stood on a chair.’ But Colonel doesn’t
care what they think of him. Loyal and steadfast, he only has eyes
for Maud and his new family.
Not
all of the animals are as domesticated as these two. On the nights
when Annette can’t sleep, she and Maud sit in the breakfast room
watching night turn to day. Together, they wait for the vixen that
regularly visits the garden with her cubs. There’s something quite
mystical about this fox. Annette’s sure it’s the same one Edith
wrote about in her diaries. Diaries that she’s promised to read. As
it gazes at them through the French windows, it makes Annette feel
somehow connected to Edith. Maud watches on silently. The two animals
seem to have a mutual, wary respect for each other, as if they too
have some kind of connection.
They
say writers get so involved with their stories that the characters
become real people to them. It’s certainly true for me, but that
also extends to Maud, Colonel and the vixen. I have a clear picture
of them in my head and I know just how they’ll behave in any given
situation. I hope I’ve painted them as brightly for you. I’d love
to hear what you think of them. Do let me know.
Being Netta Wilde by Hazel Ward
An
uplifting story of love, loss and second chances that celebrates
friendship and human connections.
Netta
Wilde was all the things Annette Grey isn’t. Netta Wilde was raw,
unchecked and just a little bit rebellious. She loved The Clash and
she loved being Netta Wilde.
Annette
Grey is an empty, broken woman who hardly knows her own children. Of
course, it’s her own fault. She’s a bad mother. An unnatural
mother. At least, that’s what her ex-husband tells her.
The
one thing she is good at …
the one thing that stops her from
falling …
is her job.
When
the unthinkable happens, Annette makes a decision that sets her on a
journey of self-discovery and reinvention. Along the way, her life is
filled with friends, family, dogs, and jam. Lots of jam.
Suddenly
anything seems possible. Even being Netta Wilde again.
But,
is she brave enough to take that final step when the secrets she
keeps locked inside are never too far away?
Amazon UK Amazon US
Hazel Ward was
born in a back-to-back house in inner city Birmingham. By the time
the council knocked the house flat and packed her family off to the
suburbs, she was already something of a feral child who loved
adventures. Swapping derelict houses and bomb pecks for green fields
and gardens was a bit of a culture shock but she rose to the occasion
admirably and grew up loving outdoor spaces and animals. Especially
dogs, cats and horses.
Strangely, for
someone who couldn’t sit still, she also developed a ferocious
reading habit and a love of words. She wrote her first novel at
fifteen, along with a lot of angsty poems, and was absolutely sure
she wanted to be a writer. Sadly, it all came crashing down when her
seventeen-year-old self walked out of school after a spot of bother
and was either too stubborn or too embarrassed to go back. It’s
too long ago to remember which. What followed was
a series of mind-numbingly dull jobs that paid the bills but did
little to quell the restlessness inside.
Always a bit of a
smart-arse, she eventually managed to talk herself into a successful
corporate career that lasted over twenty years until, with the bills
paid and the children grown up, she was able to wave it all goodbye
and do the thing she’d always wanted to do. While taking a fiction
writing course she wrote a short story about a lonely woman who was
being made redundant. The story eventually became her debut novel
Being Netta Wilde.
Hazel still lives
in Birmingham and that’s where she does most of her writing. When
she’s not there, she and her partner can be found in their holiday
home in Shropshire or gadding about the country in an old motorhome.
Not quite feral anymore but still up for adventures.
https://hazelwardauthor.com
https://www.facebook.com/hazelwardauthor
https://twitter.com/hazelward
https://www.instagram.com/hazel.ward
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrmdeA7DKEXhrj6nO6l2gJw
A
moving story of love, loss and friendship that breaks and uplifts
your heart.
