by Rebecca Shaw
His lips twitched as he replied, “One would imagine he must. You can’t help but like them both, can you?”
Kate smiled to herself. “No, you can’t. The food appeared beyond reproach, didn’t it?”
“I shall pass judgment on that tomorrow. Who knows what the night might bring.” Dan glanced at her and laughed. For one bright moment he appeared to her handsome. She thought of Scott when she thought of handsome and for some strange reason had difficulty remembering what he looked like. Then, like a flash, his laughing face focused in her mind and she grinned.
“What’s so amusing?”
“Just thinking of Scott who was before you. You’re braver than him. He refused to eat or drink there. Only whiskey we had once. And he never let Blossom get anywhere near him if he could help it. She was always after his body, he said.”
“The conceit of the man! I fancy she’s after any body, even half presentable, in trousers. I can’t help wondering about his balaclava. It’s there to hide something, isn’t it?”
Kate looked out of the window. “It’s left here after the roadworks. It must be. Maybe he’s an escapee from a home somewhere, and he’s still hiding his identity. Perhaps that’s why he has so much sympathy with Hamish.”
“I’ve an idea it’s deeper than that. Here we are. Thanks for coming, Kate. They would have been affronted if you hadn’t.”
“That’s OK. Thank you for taking me.”
Dan got out and went round to open her door for her.
“Bye. See you tomorrow. Thanks again for the lift.”
“See you.”
Before she had got the front door open, Dan was already charging off down the street.
• • •
WEDNESDAY was market day in Barleybridge, so not only was there a street market but a cattle market too. Dan, having a morning free because of being on call all night, decided to mingle in the cattle market for an hour, before going to the supermarket to replenish his depleted food stocks.
The sheds and pens at the market were teaming with animals of all kinds: goats and sheep, cows and pigs, chickens and geese. The hustle and bustle, the sights and sounds, were energizing, and he spent a happy hour wandering about looking at the condition of the animals, some good, some poor. He listened to the auctioneer to see what prices were being achieved at the moment and winced when he heard how low the selling prices were.
Here and there the odd farmer acknowledged him, and he them, with a nod or a touch of his cap and a friendly “Good morning.” Some stayed for a chat, mostly to bemoan the low prices that day. He inspected the pigs, checked out the goats—especially some pygmy goats, which at one time he had rather fancied breeding—then went to view the chickens. They were a motley collection of fancy and workaday, and he paused for a while, looking them over with a practiced eye.
Then the rain came down. Not in a drizzle, which a stout heart could ignore, but a thundering, pelting downpour. Dan hastily retreated under the porch over the front door of the Askew Arms, the oldest and most prestigious hotel in the town. As it was twelve o’clock, he decided to take an early lunch and not bother with his supermarket shopping until the following day.
He’d ordered steak and kidney pie with a half bottle of house wine and was awaiting its arrival when he heard the loud voice of Lord Askew in the dining-room entrance. Immediately the manager rushed forward to greet him. To Dan’s eye the man would have done better to have genuflected and have done with it, for his obsequious bowing and scraping was embarrassing to watch. Lord Askew ignored him and surveyed the dining room with a haughty eye, which wavered over Dan and then came back to him. The manager pointed to a table in the window slightly withdrawn from the others, obviously intending to direct his lordship toward it.
But Lord Askew had other ideas. “This will do!” He headed for Dan’s table and asked if the other chair was free for him to use.
Thinking a bit of courtesy on his behalf would go a long way with a man like Lord Askew, Dan stood up. “I shall be delighted to have your company, my lord. I dislike eating alone.”
Lord Askew ordered steak and kidney pie too, cancelled Dan’s half bottle of house wine and ordered a whole bottle of the most expensive red wine on the list.
They chatted about the state of the market, the need to keep a finger on the pulse, how farmers could survive in the current economic climate and the value of diversifying.
“Callum Tattersall has come up with another hare-brained scheme. Mushrooms this time. The man’s a fool. Tenant farmer of mine, you know, keeps the land and buildings in good trim, better than some, but he’s never going to be rich.”
“I have sympathy for him. His wife is very ill.”
“Yes, yes, that’s as may be. Drag on a man is that. My lady wife has always been a great support. You haven’t met her?” Dan shook his head. “Wonderful woman. Like you, speaks straight from the shoulder, always.” Lord Askew fell silent, a smile twitching at his lips.
Their food came and was expertly served to them by the manager himself. Lord Askew downed the wine in less time than it took to say thank you for having it poured. He’d swallowed a second glass before Dan had got halfway through his first, and Dan’s plate was still half full when Lord Askew placed his knife and fork together and sat back to unfasten his waistcoat buttons. “Excellent! Not exactly top-notch, this place, bedrooms are damned ghastly, but they do know about food. You’re always safe with a good old-fashioned English menu. ’Spect they’ve been serving steak and kidney pie for three hundred years or more.”
“You’re right, it is excellent.”
“You won’t mind if I smoke?”
“Well, yes, I do.”
Lord Askew stopped halfway through removing the top of his cigar case. “You do?”
“I’m sorry, yes, and it does say no smoking in this section. That’s why I’m sitting at this table.”
“Never bother about things like that. Not me. However…” He put away the cigar case and leaned his elbows on the edge of the table, watching Dan finish his meal. “I recommend the treacle sponge and custard to finish, and we’ll have our coffee and brandy in the lounge.”
“I hadn’t intended to have pudding.”
“Well, I’m footing your bill, so you will.”
“That’s most kind of you.”
“One hundred and fifty-two thousand pounds we got with the charity auction. Good night, eh?”
“It certainly was.”
“Terribly keen, I am, to keep the hunt going. Shambles it all is. Complete shambles. All these job losses. Damned interfering.” When they’d eaten their excellent treacle sponge, the manager appeared again to ask if everything was to their satisfaction. “Coffee and brandy in the lounge, Firth, please. For two.”
“Certainly, my lord, whenever you’re ready.”
Dan followed him to a quiet corner, though it was difficult because the hotel was rapidly filling up, but not surprisingly the quietest table was free and Lord Askew took possession of it. As soon as the coffee had been poured for them, he said, “Now, Dan Brown, will you come to see that roan. My daughter’s got great hopes for him, and I don’t want her spending hours of time on it only to be disappointed.”
“On the understanding that I come as an employee of the practice.”
Lord Askew gave a satisfied sigh. “I’m willing to accept that.”
“So long as you have finished with your own equine practice. I can’t attend a client of theirs when they’re still officially your vets.”
“Come, come, you can’t expect me to …”
“I’m sorry. I might come if you tell them I’m being called in as a second opinion, though.”
Lord Askew gave another sigh of satisfaction. “Ah! That’s more like it.”
Dan sat back in his armchair, rested his elbows on the arms, placed the tips of his fingers together and said, “But I would expect to have all your other veterinary work restored to us.”
Lord Askew spluttered into
his cup, replaced it in its saucer and wiped his lips on his handkerchief. “That’s asking a damn sight too much. You’re too cocky by half.”
“I’m not prepared to be made use of, to reassure you about that roan without some assurance that it’s not just a one-off. Making use of my skills to save your skin isn’t on.”
“Bet you didn’t treat that Arab sheikh like this, else your head would’ve been off.”
“He knew a good vet when he saw one, my lord, so I was treated with the utmost courtesy, both professionally and personally.”
“Hmph.” Lord Askew shifted impatiently in his chair. “Well, that’s it then. Can’t have your expertise, since you’re not willing even to put the horse’s welfare first.”
He stood, his face flushed bright red with, again, that tinge of blue about his lips. “Shan’t ask again.”
Dan felt concern that matters between them were to be left even worse than before. “Of course the horse’s welfare is my concern, but you must understand I am not here to be picked up and put down at will. It’s either all or nothing. I can assure you, you won’t regret doing as I ask. In the circumstances I’ll pay for my own lunch.”
“No, no. A gentleman’s word’s his bond. I shall pay and be damned annoyed if you persist.”
“In that case, thank you again. It has been a pleasure to lunch with you, Lord Askew. Please feel free to contact me at any time, should you change your mind.”
“Hmph.”
“SO I got the free lunch, but, unfortunately, I am no nearer getting his veterinary work back.”
Mungo shook his head. “One day you will, I’m sure. Are you certain of your diagnosis? After all, you only saw the roan briefly.”
“One hundred percent.”
“You can be a cocky beggar, you know. Still, if he calls you in for a second opinion …”
“He’s terribly tempted, I can see that. Let’s hope he asks me before he drops down dead.”
“Heart?”
Dan nodded. “Seems so to me. There’s something very likeable about him, you know. A softness that’s almost childlike.”
“I suspect you must be the first to think that. He’s a hard landlord and a worse father, I understand.”
“He desperately wants to be liked, but he’s not sure how to go about it.”
“Honestly, Dan, you’re as bad as Miriam. She sees deep hurt where other people see arrogance. She includes you in that category.”
Dan had been getting up ready to leave, but sat down again when Mungo said that. “Is that how you think of me? Arrogant?”
“Well, let’s face it, you are. They all think you are.”
“I might be blunt but I hope never arrogant.”
Mungo laughed. “Well, perhaps arrogant is too strong a word. But you will have your say. Look at Letty. Look at Zoe. Even Joy feels she’s taken a battering. They would all cheer if you left.”
“Is that what you want? Because I’ll leave tomorrow. Or today even.” Dan eyed Mungo with a bleak look.
“Look here, Miriam would have me strung up if I so much as mentioned the idea of you leaving and, between you and me, I want you to stay too. But for heaven’s sake, man, try to be a bit more easy with us all. Right?”
“Right. Off the record, I’d like to stay if you want me. Nothing I’d like better.”
Mungo waved an impatient hand. “Let’s leave it for now. I’m still waiting for a definite answer from the chap we interviewed. See how things work out. OK?”
“OK.” He made to leave Mungo’s office and then turned back. “Thank you for your support. Perhaps it’s more than I deserve, having lost you such a good client.”
Mungo retorted, “Well, yes, it bloody well is more than you deserve, but there you are.” He grinned to soften his harsh words and Dan laughed.
“Your wife is a gem and very perceptive. I didn’t know it showed. I’ll be more careful in the future.”
But he wasn’t and he stirred up trouble the very next day.
Chapter
• 7 •
Joy slammed the door of Mungo’s flat behind her and flung herself down in his favorite chair. “Miriam? Are you there?”
“That you, Joy?”
“Yes.”
Miriam entered the sitting room in her dressing gown, rubbing her wet hair with a towel. “What’s the matter? Excuse the garb; I’ve just got out of the bath.”
“I wouldn’t notice if you were starkers.”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“Happened? It’s what’s going to happen if a certain person doesn’t mind his Ps and Qs. I’m so blazing mad. Just when I think everything’s going with a swing he …”
“Yes?”
“He upsets everyone. Who does he think he is?”
“That doesn’t sound like Mungo.”
Joy looked up at her, surprised. “It’s not Mungo, it’s …”
“Dan?”
“Yes, Dan.” Joy’s lips tightened into a thin line as she said this.
“Oh, Joy! What’s it all about?” Miriam sat herself down and waited.
“It’s only a little thing, really …”
“Well?”
“Well, no, it isn’t a little thing, it’s a big thing. You know we have a three-day roster worked out? Start at eight one day and finish at four. Next day work eight till seven with a three-hour break in the afternoon and the next, one till eight?”
Miriam nodded.
“Well, Dan wants us to change the times of the clinics and make it as the girls work, eight hours starting at eight in the morning and finishing at four, or start at one and finish at eight in the evening. Week about.”
“Yes?”
“Yes? What do you mean, ‘yes’? Why should we change our working practices just because he fancies putting his oar in?”
“It’s worth consideration.”
Joy stood up. “ ‘Worth consideration’? I don’t believe you. I’m the practice manager, not him, and we’ve worked this system for years. No one’s ever complained.”
“So?”
“So? What do you mean, ‘so’?”
Miriam placed a hand on Joy’s arm, hoping to placate her. “He may have hit on a good idea. Have you asked the girls?”
“No point in stirring up a hornet’s nest unnecessarily, now is there?”
“Doing this means you’d have an afternoon clinic from, say, two until three and then four-thirty till seven-thirty, doesn’t it? Might be very popular. More clinic time equals more clients, doesn’t it, surely?”
Joy nodded reluctantly. “Possibly. But it all depends what Rhodri and Graham and Valentine feel, doesn’t it?”
“Of course. Think about it.”
“You’re only saying this because you want Dan to stay. Well, Miriam, you’ll be pleased to hear that the chap who came for the interview hasn’t yet made up his mind. Rang him up an hour ago.”
“Ah!”
“So that’s not good news, is it? Dan may be here far longer than any of us wants him to be.”
“I’m very, very sorry to hear that. I have said before, Joy, that you’re making a serious error of judgment about him. Why you’re getting so wild about him when you now know he’ll be leaving eventually I don’t really know.”
“But he won’t if you have your way. It’s his attitude; it riles me. Interfering busybody, he is, and he thinks everyone can work at the same pace as he does. Well, we can’t.”
“Perhaps you all should.”
“Are you saying we don’t work hard enough?”
“Well, no, not really but…”
“You don’t have to work with him. Letty agrees with me. She can’t wait to see the back of him.”
Miriam couldn’t believe her ears. “You agree with Letty? I thought you were sworn enemies.”
“That Nazi salute he gives her—well, it’s a disgrace.”
“There was a time when you thought it appropriate and very funny.”
“On the matter of h
im going we are as one.”
“Name one thing he does wrong.”
“One?” Joy laughed, unaccustomed mockery in her tone. “He lost us Lord Askew’s account his first week. Have you got the rest of the afternoon free?” She turned on her heel and stormed out.
But it wasn’t the last that Miriam heard about it, for when Mungo came up after an intense and exhausting afternoon operating it was the first thing he mentioned. “You’re not going to bring up the subject of Dan, are you?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t. I’ve had my fill.”
“But…”
“I’m sick of women with nothing better to do than trump up excuses to put a spoke in the wheels.” He counted them off on his fingers. “Letty, because she’s angry at the way he treats her, but it’s nothing more than she deserves. Joy, because as practice manager she feels her nose has been put out of joint. Zoe, because a mole has rung her and informed her of the argument.”
“Well, Zoe is a partner and should know what’s happening.”
“And now you, because you want him to stay. I understand Joy has been up and said her piece.”
Miriam nodded. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t agree with her.”
“I know you didn’t; she told me. Out of sheer cussedness I’ve a mind to ring this chap and tell him it’s all off, and then they’ll be stuck with Dan. Serve ’em all right.”
“Well, you would be justified. He has taken much longer than need be to be accepted. It’s quite a good idea, actually, what Dan says.”
“That’s what I thought. They’ve not enough to do, that’s the trouble.”
“I shouldn’t say that to Joy. I got my head bitten off for mentioning that perhaps they all needed to work as hard as Dan. A longer afternoon clinic might be a good idea, but it might mean the same number of appointments spread over a longer time with extra hours for Graham et al.”
“It’s bitchiness, really personal, you know.”
“Frankly … here’s a whiskey for you … I don’t know what’s wrong with him. If he were a time waster and disappeared for hours on end keeping clients waiting, I could understand it. Remember that one we had—I forget his name—we never knew where he was from one hour to the next, terrible chap. You should have heard Joy go on about him.”
