Vets of the Heart

by Cathy Woodman

  ‘He knows I’d never be unfaithful. He has a crush or two himself.’ She reaches for my arm. ‘Is that Lucky over there, under the table?’

  I follow her gaze. He’s lying on his side, gasping for air. I rush over to him, pick him up and look for somewhere to put him amongst the plates of scones that haven’t been judged yet.

  ‘You can’t put that there. It’s unhygienic,’ someone says.

  I glance aside, catching sight of Fifi coming towards me, handbag at the ready, as if she’s about to take a swipe at me. Frances intercepts her and starts to move the scones onto the next table, fitting them between the flower arrangements and a sign reading, Theme: the movie, Frozen.

  ‘Is Jennie here somewhere?’ I ask as I check Lucky over. The effect of moving him appears to have had a beneficial effect – his breathing is steadier.

  ‘She’s judging the Victoria sponges,’ Frances says, but Jennie’s already on her way across to us.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m calling the vet.’

  ‘Is it Maz, only she’s been treating him—?’

  ‘It’s Ross.’ I turn away to speak to him on my mobile. ‘I need you at the WI marquee right now, this minute.’

  ‘That’s what they all say,’ he says lightly. ‘I’ll be right over. What’s wrong?’ His voice catches as he starts walking.

  ‘It’s Lucky. He’s collapsed.’

  Ross arrives within seconds. He diagnoses heat exhaustion and takes control of the situation, ordering some water and cloths. I pour a couple of bottles of spring water onto a tea towel and dampen Lucky down. He isn’t impressed, giving me a look as if to say, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Do you think it’s the cancer?’ Jennie asks.

  ‘It could be that, or a side-effect of the chemo, or he could be stressed out because he’s here rather than resting at home.’

  ‘I knew I shouldn’t have brought him, but he looked so sad when I said he couldn’t come with us.’ Her eyes fill with tears. ‘My poor Lucky.’

  She leans down to kiss the dog, just as Ross reaches out to stroke his head, and kisses Ross’s hand instead. She steps back abruptly, bumping into Frances.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I kissed you.’ Suddenly, she laughs out loud. ‘Oh dear, this is bizarre and very embarrassing.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I have this way with women,’ Ross says, lapping up the attention. ‘Let’s make a plan. I would suggest that you take Lucky home and call me in an hour to let me know how he is. If he’s comfortable, we’ll book him in to see Maz on Monday for a check-up and a chat. Shannon and I are on duty all weekend, so you can ring at any time.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Jennie says. ‘Frances, please can you pass me my bag? I left it on the cake table—’

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Fifi interrupts.

  ‘Home.’

  ‘What about the Victoria sponges? You hadn’t come to a decision.’

  ‘Oh, sausages to them. I have to go.’ Jennie takes her bag and lifts Lucky into her arms. ‘Someone else will have to do it.’

  ‘But who? You’re the expert. You’re our Mary Berry.’

  Jennie looks in Ross’s direction. ‘Why not ask our answer to Paul Hollywood here? I’m sure he eats cake.’ She whisks Lucky away and leaves the marquee.

  ‘Would you?’ Fifi asks. ‘Bray Molland has returned to the member’s enclosure – he is “in his cups”, to put it mildly. I do believe I’m going to have to put him up for the night because there’s no way he’s fit to drive.’

  ‘It will be a pleasure,’ Ross smiles, as I’m trying without words to impress on him the fact that it isn’t a good idea.

  ‘Whichever you choose as a winner, you’ll be accused of favouritism,’ I whisper as we make our way to the row of sponges.

  ‘I can handle it. Watch me and learn.’

  I notice his eyes glazing over as Fifi explains the criteria for the judging, talking at length about texture and presentation.

  ‘What really matters is that it has to taste bloody good,’ Ross says, summarising as he cuts himself a big chunk of the first cake and bites into it. ‘That’s a ten.’ He tries the second one and frowns.

  ‘Is there something wrong?’ Fifi says hopefully. ‘It’s the one Frances baked.’

  ‘Yup, there’s a big problem.’ He has cheeky twinkle in his eye. ‘That one’s a ten as well. There are a lot of tens around here.’

  He goes through several more slices of cake, finishing every one and proclaiming that they’re all worthy of his top mark.

  ‘You have to make a decision,’ Fifi says.

  ‘I’m going to give an award for flavour and consistency, and another for artistic merit.’

  ‘There are some who might consider the Victoria sponge an art form, but I’d argue that you can’t possibly create a new award for spreading jam and sprinkling icing sugar.’

  ‘You’d argue about anything, Fifi,’ Ross says, and I would swear it is at that instant, as he’s teasing and flirting with her, that she falls in love with him.

  ‘Oh,’ she gives him a gentle nudge, ‘you are a cad. I’ll go and find an extra rosette and certificate.’

  Ross turns to me. ‘You see: that’s how it’s done.’

  ‘I’m impressed.’

  ‘Would you like to join me and Heidi, and Bart of course, for lunch in the members’ enclosure? Fifi said to just turn up as a thank-you for going to find that Bray chap.’

  ‘No, thanks. I’m going to have a look around the rest of the show.’

  ‘I’ll catch you later then.’ He acts out doffing a cap. ‘I’m one of the country set now, you know.’

  ‘Enjoy’, I say with some irony. I don’t want to mix with a load of old farmers and horsey people, and I have no desire to schmooze with the businessmen and women like Mum and Godfrey, but these are convenient excuses when I’m really trying to avoid seeing Ross with his ex because the idea that they’re still seeing each other makes me feel a tad jealous. I know it’s irrational when it’s clear that I have no claim on him, but I can’t help it.

  ‘I will,’ he says with a cheerful grin.

  Outside the marquee, Ross goes one way and I go the other. I watch some Morris dancing and sheep shearing before catching up with Mitch in the middle of the afternoon. We sit on the grass outside the beer tent, watching Dexy’s Dancing Diggers in the main arena. I hold onto my bottle of elderflower cordial as a breeze catches my arms, raising goose bumps across my skin, which is turning pink in the sun. Mitch is wearing a cap, a vest with ‘In at the Deep End’ printed across the front, and knee-length denim shorts.

  ‘So what did you want to talk to me about?’ He touches the mouth of a bottle of lager to his lips. I become aware of his hand slipping under my top, touching the small of my back. I shuffle a little to one side and he shifts closer. ‘You said in your text you wanted to talk. What’s wrong, Shannon? Are you playing hard to get, only I thought we’d make the most of a free day together? My brother’s band’s playing a gig in a pub near Exeter tonight. I thought we’d go, just the two of us. It feels like we haven’t caught up for ages.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’ I can’t quite bring myself to let him down, so I add, ‘I’m on call this weekend.’

  ‘You mean, you don’t want to come with me?’ He leans back and rests on his elbow, putting some space between us.

  ‘I’m serious. I’m on duty.’

  ‘You’re always working,’ he complains.

  ‘It’s the nature of the job.’ I tuck my cardigan around my shoulders. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be at the pool?’

  ‘I am allowed out now and then. There’s something else, isn’t there? You’ve been different recently.’ I pick at the grass and let it drift as he goes on, ‘Apart from swimming, Taylor says she’s hardly seen you.’

  ‘I’ve been busy,’ say with a twinge of guilt.

  ‘You don’t text or talk to me any more.’

  �
��I’m talking now. Oh, I’m sorry,’ I repeat. ‘You’re one of my best friends.’ I gaze at him with a sick sensation in the pit of my stomach. I have to tell him because I can’t go on living a lie, pretending that I’m cool about it.

  ‘Look, I want to stay friends, but without the other thing. It isn’t working for me.’

  ‘The sex, you mean.’ His eyes are dark. ‘I’ve never heard you complaining before.’

  ‘I’m not complaining. It’s been—’

  ‘Fun,’ he finishes for me. ‘So why can’t we carry on? No ties, no attachment.’

  ‘I thought I could do it, but I can’t. After we broke up, it felt comforting to be back in your arms.’

  ‘Comforting?’ he interrupts. ‘Am I really that bad in bed?’

  ‘I didn’t say that, and anyway, we agreed after the first time: no recriminations.’

  What we didn’t talk about in advance was how we would deal with it when our arrangement came to an end, because it has as far as I’m concerned. I don’t want to be close to Mitch any more. In fact, the thought of a drunken fumble right now makes me feel slightly sick.

  ‘There has to be somebody else.’

  ‘There isn’t, but I want to be free to move on.’ I pause as two of Dexy’s Dancing Diggers clash buckets. ‘This isn’t right for me. When I go home the next morning, I feel kind of used.’

  ‘You’ve been using me too,’ he says, raising one eyebrow.

  ‘I want more from my life, Mitch. Don’t you?’

  ‘Not really. I’m happy as things are. I suppose I’ve been half expecting you to dump me for a second time,’he continues morosely.

  ‘I’m not dumping you. We aren’t a couple.’

  ‘Oh, you’re right. It’s hurt male pride. I’ll be all right.’ His expression softens. ‘How about one for the road?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. Just to make it perfectly clear – no more drinks and no more falling into bed with each other,’ I say firmly.

  ‘Okay, but you can’t blame me for trying.’ He looks at me with a rueful grin. ‘Cheers!’ He raises his bottle and touches it to mine. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘You too.’ I sip at my drink, the fragrant bubbles popping sharp and sweet at the same time on my tongue. It’s a relief to know that we have a clean break this time. Mitch will find someone else. And me? I look down the avenue where I catch sight of Ross strolling along with the dog. Heidi is on his arm, carrying a silver balloon on a string, a carved duck and several carrier bags. Somehow the prospect of a night on call with him no longer appeals in quite the same way as it did, but I’ll have to get over it. It’s probably for the best because it would be a shame to complicate mine and Ross’s growing friendship with’ romance.

  ‘I’ll be off then,’ Mitch says, getting up and brushing the grass from his shorts. I stand up with him, putting my arms around his shoulders to give him one last hug. He squeezes me tight and gives me a forceful kiss straight on the lips. ‘Keep in touch.’

  ‘I’ll see you at the pool,’ say, taking a step back.

  He turns and strides away. I pick up our empty bottles and drop them in the recycling bin nearby, not noticing Ross and Heidi until they are almost on top of me.

  ‘Hello again,’ Heidi says, as if she’s my best friend. Bart hesitates, raising one paw off the ground and growling when he sees me.

  ‘Hey, shut up,’ Ross says jovially. ‘I’m sorry – he’s rather opinionated.’

  ‘Is that your other half?’ Heidi asks. ‘It’s a shame he had to run away – we could have made it a foursome.’

  ‘That’s Mitch, my ex.’ I’m blushing for no good reason, except I’m acutely aware that Ross is studying my face rather intently. ‘He’s a lifeguard and swimming teacher at the leisure centre.’

  ‘I thought he looked rather fit.’ Heidi turns to Ross with a coquettish flick of her hair. ‘Not as gorgeous as you, though.’

  I have to admire her confidence. She’s determined she will win him back.

  ‘I’m glad we ran into you,’ Ross says. ‘We’ve been called back to the surgery. Heidi can give you a lift.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ I say quickly. ‘I’ll drive the ambulance.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’ He frowns. ‘It isn’t desperately urgent, but it’s a puppy with an upset tummy that needs to be seen today. Promise me you’ll take it slowly.’

  ‘I’ll be careful.’

  ‘Great. I’ll ride the bike, and Heidi can bring Bart. Meet you there.’ He places his hand on the small of Heidi’s back as we walk towards the car parks.

  Back at Otter House, Heidi waits in reception with Bart while Ross and I attend to the puppy, a ten-week-old tricolour terrier with a black patch over one eye. Ross decides to admit him and we put him in isolation on antibiotics and a drip. As soon as I close the door of his cage, the puppy – called Pirate – is sick. I clean up after him, give him a new bed and, as soon as my back is turned, he vomits again.

  Oh, joy, I think.

  ‘How is he?’ Ross asks, returning from reception, where he’s been completing a consent form with Pirate’s owner.

  ‘He’s thrown up twice in ten minutes.’

  ‘I’ll give him something to stop that.’ Ross hesitates. ‘Would you mind hanging around for a couple of hours? I would offer to stay myself, but Heidi wants to take Bart up to the escarpment for a run. We can let him off the lead up there because there aren’t many dogs about.’

  ‘He’s a bit funny with other dogs, isn’t he?’ I say, remembering how he behaved with the spaniel.

  ‘I don’t think it’s him,’ Ross says protectively. ‘It’s more a case of the other dogs picking on him.’

  I let it go, amused to find that Ross is a typical dog owner who can’t accept that his pet can do any wrong.

  ‘I don’t mind staying.’ I haven’t got anything better to do at the moment. In fact, I feel a little flat, because the day I’ve been looking forward to hasn’t gone as I’d hoped.

  ‘Thanks.’ He leans across and brushes his lips against my cheek in a gesture that takes me by surprise. I owe you .’

  I stay at the practice all night, sleeping on the sofa in the staff room and checking on the puppy every couple of hours. In the morning, I’m up when Ross arrives in jeans and a T-shirt with his hair still damp from the shower.

  ‘Did you have a good evening?’ I ask him.

  ‘It was okay, I suppose. It was nice to catch up with Heidi and what’s going on with our friends.’ He sighs. ‘I’m afraid I’ve lost touch with some of them, mainly the women who have – not surprisingly, I suppose – chosen to take Heidi’s side. How is the puppy?’

  ‘He hasn’t been sick again. Can I feed him?’

  ‘You can try him with a little chicken before we see the two patients I’ve booked in,’ he says.

  I take fresh chicken breast from the fridge and cook it; the puppy devours the few pieces that I let him have. Tripod turns up and he has some too, even though he probably shouldn’t.

  We see a cat with an abscess on its head and a dog that can’t walk in a straight line without falling over. Ross lances the abscess and dispenses antibiotics for the cat, and diagnoses the dog with an inner ear problem for which he prescribes the appropriate drugs and rest. When they’ve left the surgery, he checks on Pirate and decides to send him home.

  ‘He’ll be happier in his own surroundings, a bit like Bart really. I enjoyed the show. I didn’t think I would. Do you think I’d get a job presenting Bake Off?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Do you watch it?’ I ask, grinning.

  ‘Oh, avidly.’

  I gaze at his face, which is a mask. Is he winding me up? I don’t think so . . .

  ‘Do you really?’

  He grins. ‘Of course not. I’ve seen it a couple of times in passing. It isn’t my cup of tea – and, talking of which, would you like a drink? You look weary – I don’t suppose you slept much.’

  I yawn in response.

  ‘Why don’t we ru
n up to the Copper Kettle? I fancy some cake now. My treat.’

  ‘Cake? At this time of day?’

  ‘Why not? I’ll call Pirate’s owner. Once they’ve picked him up, we’ll go.’ He smiles wryly. ‘Unless anyone else calls us in the meantime.’

  Later, we share a plate of different types of cake in the teashop, which is open for business on Sundays throughout the summer to take advantage of the tourist trade.

  ‘So what marks would you give the lemon drizzle?’ I ask him.

  ‘That’s a ten, and so is the chocolate sponge, and the walnut and coffee.’ He changes the subject. ‘I found out what happened to the pig. Heidi and I ran into the policeman – not literally,’ he chuckles. ‘When we went to grab a bite to eat at the Talymill Inn last night, he told us that they’d traced the owner, who came with a trailer to take her home. Apparently she broke out of their garden and took herself off for a walk. She’s a pet, which explains why she was so tame.’ There’s a buzzing sound from his pocket. He takes out his phone and checks the screen.

  ‘Ah, good. Heidi’s back safely. She wasn’t going to stay at all, but when I told her about the show, she wanted to see what it was like. I’m glad – I don’t think I’d have coped with Bart as well as being on call.’

  ‘When will you have him again?’ I chase the last crumbs of cake and icing from the plate with a fork.

  ‘It depends on Heidi.’

  In that case, I think, it will be very soon.

  ‘Shall we go?’ he says. ‘I’ll hold the fort while you go home and take a break.’

  ‘Thanks, Ross.’

  ‘There’s no need to thank me. It’s you who’s done me a favour.’ He settles up with Cheryl and we part outside the Copper Kettle. ‘See you later maybe,’ he says, and I start to walk towards Petals. I stop and turn partway along the road. Ross is watching. I wave and he waves back. I can hardly believe how much my opinion of him has altered since he arrived at Otter House. He’s a good friend and great vet, and I’m growing fonder of him every time I see him. I smile to myself because, if we should get called out again, I won’t mind in the slightest.

  Chapter Nine

  Snow White

  There are no further emergencies or urgent cases to deal with on Sunday or during the night, and I don’t see Ross again until Wednesday, because he has two days off due to some tweaks to the vets’ duty rota while I have only one. I find that I miss him when he isn’t at the practice. It’s rather dull without him.