Fiona Gibson - Fiona Gibson 3 Book Bundle

Table of Contents

Title Page FIONA GIBSON Fiona Gibson 3 Book Bundle

Pedigree Mum PEDIGREE MUM

Mum on the Run

The Great Escape

About the Author

By the same Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

For the delectable Miss Wendy Rigg

Table of Contents

Title Page FIONA GIBSON Pedigree Mum

Dedication For the delectable Miss Wendy Rigg

Part One: Arrival PART ONE Arrival ‘Welcoming a new addition into your home is a decision not to be taken lightly. The impact on your family will be enormous.’ Your First Dog: A Complete Guide by Jeremy Catchpole

Chapter One

Chapter Two: Four months later

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: One week later

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen: Jack’s, three weeks later

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Part Two: Settling in

Chapter Twenty-Five: December 1, the first snowfall

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Part Three: Training

Chapter Fifty-Six: Four months later

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chapter Seventy: Three months later

Children and Dogs … Are they really that different?

My Inspirations for Pedigree Mum

20 Quick Questions for author Fiona Gibson

Why Every Writer Should Own a Dog

Acknowledgements

‘Welcoming a new addition into your home is a decision not to be taken lightly. The impact on your family will be enormous.’

Your First Dog: A Complete Guide by Jeremy Catchpole

So it actually exists. The perfect family day out, as peddled by the glossy magazines, featuring unfeasibly photogenic parents and children enjoying beach picnics in the sunshine – it happens in real life, Kerry realises. To her left, a family entirely populated by curly-haired blondes are tucking into a Niçoise salad from a huge transparent pink bowl. They’ve even brought salad tongs (pink to match the bowl) and it appears to be fresh tuna, not tinned. There’s also a huge pastry oblong which looks like one of those savoury French tarts, with anchovies draped all over it – Kerry is amazed to see it being happily consumed by persons under eight years old – plus a dazzling array of fresh fruit.

At another gathering, kids in Breton tops are tucking into what looks like a week’s worth of five-a-days at one sitting, and not your boring old apples and tangerines either. Kerry spots mangoes, papayas and gnarly little testicle-like things that might possibly be kumquats or maybe ugly fruits … God, she doesn’t even know the names of the more exotic varieties. Is it any wonder she can’t persuade her own children to acquaint themselves with pineapple? Here on Shorling beach, in the glorious April sunshine, no one is whingeing or picking out bits they don’t like. There appears to be not one Cheesy Wotsit on the whole beach.

As for acceptable picnic attire, Kerry realises this is Petit Bateau territory, with a liberal sprinkling of Boden and Gap. It’s also clear that Mia, who at seven years old favours scruffy denim shorts and has already splattered ice cream down her T-shirt, doesn’t quite belong. And it’s a miracle that Freddie, who’s wearing the hideous black and orange tracksuit that’s permanently welded to his lithe five-year-old body these days, hasn’t been politely asked to leave the beach. Kerry might be feeling paranoid, but she’s sure that kumquat-slicing mum over there is giving her children a look of distaste, as if fearful that they might pitch up beside them and start slugging Fanta and ripping open packets of Jammy Dodgers.

She chuckles to herself, focusing now on her husband Rob as he turns and motions for her to catch up. Their children are running along at the water’s edge while Rob is marching ahead, laden with bags, having decided that the far end of the beach will be more suitable for kite flying. However, Kerry has lagged behind deliberately, swivelling her eyes from left to right in order to amass as much information as possible about the picnicking etiquette at Shorling-on-Sea. After all, they might live here one day. It’s just a hazy idea, but still, research must be conducted in these matters.

At least Rob looks the part, she decides. Tall, dark-eyed, handsome Rob, who’s been scouring the shops these past weeks for a top-notch kite, especially to bring today.

‘Think this is a good place?’ he asks as Kerry catches up with him. They have left the picnicking groups behind now, and she experiences a wave of pleasure as she surveys the sweep of flat, empty sand.

‘Looks perfect,’ she says. ‘D’you think there’s enough wind?’

‘Yeah, ’course there is,’ Freddie declares, unselfconsciously pulling off his sodden tracksuit bottoms. He points at a father and son over by the rocks who are expertly manoeuvring a box kite.

‘ That’s impressive.’ Rob grins at his son. ‘Reckon we can do that, little man?’

‘Yeah. Let me go first.’ Freddie tries, unsuccessfully, to snatch the kite from Rob’s grasp.

‘You said I could, Daddy!’ Mia declares, scampering towards them.

‘Of course you can both have a go,’ Rob says. ‘It’s for you guys, not me. Just let me see if I can get us started, okay?’ Amidst the children’s protests, Rob strides away while Kerry unpacks her own picnic offerings: ham baguettes, a little squashed, bananas having mysteriously blackened during the two hour drive from London to the south coast. But at least her blueberry muffins have endured the journey well. She almost wishes the anchovy tart mum would venture over and see them: they’re home-made, you know, and there’s fruit nestling inside …