Vets of the Heart

by Cathy Woodman

  I nod as I try to haul Trevor in from the bottom of the riverbank where he’s found an apparently fascinating scent.

  ‘People are bound to be curious.’ Ross hesitates as the dog splashes about in the water, stirring up the red Devon mud. ‘Anyway, they’re coming this way. I don’t see how we’re going to avoid them now. They’re only kids.’

  ‘Come here, Trevor,’ I call, tugging on the end of the lead, as the sickening sense of panic returns at the sight of three teenagers, a boy and two girls, carrying cans of lager or energy drink, I’m not sure which. They clamber over the stile and move towards us, getting ever closer.

  ‘I think you’ve caught yourself a dogfish,’ the boy says.

  ‘What happened to your face?’ the taller of the two girls asks with a hint of challenge in her voice. ‘Did he give you a love-bite?’ She points at Ross.

  ‘Didn’t he realise he was chewing half your face off?’ the other girl jeers.

  ‘What did you just say?’ Ross steps in, as I put my hand in my pocket and rustle the packet of treats I’ve brought with me, bringing Trevor scrabbling up to the top of the bank. He shakes himself hard, spattering the teenagers with muddy water. Laughing and screaming, they run away.

  ‘That’s right. You run, you cowards,’ Ross yells after them. He swears and turns to me, sliding his arm around my shoulders. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m okay, thanks.’

  ‘You’re trembling.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ I pull away and give the dog a treat. ‘Trevor gave them a bit of a shock.’

  ‘I didn’t realise when the boy started talking that they were going to turn like that. The girls were vicious, like feral cats,’ he says. ‘I should have gone after them and given them a piece of my mind. What do they think they’re doing, abusing people who are going along minding their own business?’

  ‘It’s better to let them get on with it,’ I say, and I glance down at the river flowing past. ‘It’s like water off a duck’s back.’ Except that it isn’t. I feel quite shaken and I want to go home.

  ‘We’ll go back,’ Ross says quietly, and I’m grateful for his understanding. We return Trevor to Penny, giving him a wash in the stream on the way, and go back to Ross’s where we stand beside my car.

  ‘I’d love to give you a tour of the branch surgery,’ he says when I tell him I’m going straight back to Petals. ‘Go on, it won’t take long. Please . . . DJ’s been asking after you. He wants to know if the snake charmer – that’s you – is available in case he finds any exotic creatures lurking in the new place.’

  ‘Have you seen it then?’

  ‘Of course. Maz wants me to be involved in the decision-making since I’m going to be working there. I’d like you to be part of it too.’

  I bite my lip, tasting blood. My scar starts to throb. I can’t do it. The more time I spend with him, the more I want him, and it isn’t fair on either of us. It’s torture.

  ‘No, I’m sorry—’ I begin.

  ‘You’re tired, I should have thought,’ he cuts in.

  ‘It isn’t that. I really can’t do this.’ I catch sight of my reflection in the paintwork of my car and, even though the scar appears blurred, I can still see it, like a massive purple worm embedded in my face. I unlock the car and jump in. ‘Bye,’ I mutter as I slam the door shut. I switch on the engine and reverse, turning to face the road as he looks on, his arms folded across his chest, his brow deeply furrowed.

  By the time I’m back at Petals, I have two voicemails and three texts from Ross on my mobile but, to my shame, I can’t bring myself to answer any of them. I take Seven to my room and cuddle up with him on the bed. He doesn’t judge me on my looks. To him, I’m the same old Shannon.

  I do everything in my power to avoid Ross, and virtually everyone else apart from Mum and Godfrey, which actually involves doing very little. I manage to motivate myself to drive to Talyford at the end of the week for a second, more successful training session at home with Trevor, showing Penny some strategies for taming her well-meaning but nutty Labrador before he goes away to what she calls ‘finishing school’. I demonstrate how to use a training lead in the house, so when someone comes to the door she can secure him and stop him dashing out into the road, and I instruct her on the correct way to use treats as a reward for good behaviour. I do one last session with them on the bank holiday Monday, by the end of which I think we’ve gone some way towards stopping him running into Penny’s legs when he’s having what she calls a manic moment. I fail on the washing front, though. We practise with a few rags and the washing basket, but he can’t resist ripping them to shreds.

  ‘I think we’ll have to leave it to finishing school to iron out that bad habit,’ Penny says as we sit in the garden in the sunshine, watching him trot away to find a ball to play with. ‘Thanks, Shannon. You’ve done a good job. I didn’t have a clue what to do with him, but you’ve given me the confidence to tackle some of Trevor’s issues.’

  ‘I hope I’ve done enough to convince you and Declan that he can stay.’ I rearrange the scarf around my neck – I’m boiling, but I won’t take it off.

  ‘I hope so too.’ Penny changes the subject. ‘How are you, anyway? Ross says you aren’t back at work yet.’

  ‘When did you see him?’

  ‘A couple of days ago. Declan saw him arriving back on his bike. He went over for a chat and asked him in for a drink. He seemed rather gloomy.’ She clears her throat. ‘I know it isn’t any of my business, but you really should talk to him. He’s devastated about what happened.’

  ‘I know – he had to put his dog to sleep.’

  ‘This isn’t about the dog. It’s about you. He’s very upset that you didn’t want to move back in with him. He doesn’t understand why you’ve turned against him and he’s worried that you’re cutting yourself off from your friends and colleagues at Otter House.’

  ‘I appreciate your concern,’ I say awkwardly, because Penny is only repeating the truth. I am isolating myself because it’s stressful putting on a brave face for other people, and I don’t want to risk running into individuals like the yobs down by the river. I can’t handle it.

  ‘You will speak to him?’ she goes on. ‘It’s a pity he isn’t at home – you could have popped in and seen him while you were here.’

  ‘Where is he?’ I start to worry that I’ve missed something by not listening to his voicemails or looking at his texts in the past couple of days.

  ‘He’s gone off on his bike. He told Declan he was going to spend the bank holiday weekend on the road.’ Penny smiles ruefully. ‘I envy him his freedom.’

  I look around at the paintings on the walls, wondering where he is and how he’s feeling.

  ‘I have to get mine from art,’ Penny goes on, following my gaze. ‘It can take a long time to heal, and sometimes it feels as if it will never happen, but it will. You just have to be patient and let people in. I’m talking from experience, but that’s enough from me for now. Would you like a glass of wine?’

  I decline, although it’s tempting.

  ‘I’ve promised Mum I’ll go for a walk up on the escarpment or in the woods with Seven this afternoon. I think it’s part of her campaign to get me out of the house.’

  ‘Go for it,’ Penny says.

  ‘Let me know if you need any more help with Trevor.’ I leave shortly afterwards and pick up Mum and Seven, but when we’re up high on the escarpment looking down at the sea, I spot a group of people walking towards us – a family of grandparents, parents and children with pushchairs, kites and dogs. My heart starts to race and my skin prickles with heat. I touch my throat as I look around for an alternative path through the bracken and gorse to avoid them.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Mum asks as Seven presses his nose against my thigh.

  ‘I can’t breathe properly.’ My chest is tight and my head is spinning.

  ‘Come over here and sit down,’ she says, taking my hand and pulling me towards a wooden bench that over
looks the grassy slope down to the beach.

  ‘No, I have to get back to the car.’

  ‘Can you manage that?’ She reaches up and touches my forehead with the back of her hand, like she used to when I was a kid. ‘Do you want me to call for help?’

  ‘Please, don’t. I’ll be all right when I get home, I promise.’ I stumble back along the stony path towards the car park, my legs moving faster and faster until I’m running and my lungs ache with the effort. Seven stays with me, but Mum catches us up a couple of minutes later. I’m already in the driver’s seat with the engine revving.

  ‘What on earth is the matter?’ she says, staring at me. ‘Are you having some kind of panic attack? Oh, darling . . .’

  ‘I can’t face all those people. It’s too much.’ I bite my lip to hold back tears of relief that I made it without having to show my face to any of them. Mum touches my arm.

  ‘It will get better,’ she says. ‘Look at you – it’s only been a couple of weeks since you came out of hospital and the scar’s smaller already.’

  I glance at my reflection in the rear-view mirror, but I’m unable to share Mum’s confidence. To me, it looks as red, uneven and vile as it was when I first saw it, and I am just as unlovable, and that reminds me of Ross and how much I’m missing him. I drive home, go to my room and howl silently with grief.

  The whole episode gives me a headache and I use this as a reason not to leave Petals at all. Mum worries that it’s an after-effect of being knocked out during the incident with Bart, but I assure her that it has nothing to do with it. I do text Ross, though, to check that he’s all right and that he arrived back from his motorcycle tour in one piece. He calls me back and asks me out for a drink, but I turn him down, using the headache as an excuse.

  ‘I’ll ask you again,’ he says, apparently seeing right through my evasion. ‘You can’t have a headache forever. I have to go – duty calls. See you soon.’

  I feel bereft when he cuts the call, another sign that it is going to take a very long time to get over him, if I ever do. I call Seven and retire to the sofa for the next few days.

  On the Friday morning, Godfrey comes dancing into the living room with a mug in one hand and a plate in the other. Tor you, daughter of the love of my life.’

  I thank him, taking the tea and putting the toast to one side.

  ‘A smile wouldn’t go amiss.’ He utters a mock sigh. ‘I’m trying.’

  ‘You certainly are.’ I force a brief smile.

  ‘You’re welcome. You know, I wish you’d at least think about going back to work. I hate seeing you like this. We’re all very worried about you.’

  ‘I am fine. I just need more time.’

  ‘Very well.’ He gives a little bow and disappears again. Mum is already in the shop attending to a delivery, while I’m still in my pyjamas, my favourite set with slouchy bottoms and a long-sleeved top with frayed cuffs. Seven sits and drools over the plate. In the end, I break up the toast and feed it to him, bit by bit. I know I shouldn’t, but it makes him happy, and I don’t have to explain to anyone why I haven’t touched my breakfast. I sink back into the sofa with Jeremy Kyle on catch-up, watching people who are going through much worse times than me.

  Seven jumps up beside me. I reach out and ran my fingers through his silky fur as Godfrey calls through from the shop.

  ‘Shannon, there’s someone to see you.’

  ‘Not now,’ I call back. ‘I’m not dressed.’

  ‘I know you’re decent. I’ve seen you.’ He puts his head around the door and Ross pushes past him. I grab a cushion and hold it to my chest, as if it will dampen the rapid knocking of my heart.

  ‘What are you doing barging in like that? You heard – I’m not in the mood for visitors.’

  ‘Visitor,’ he says. ‘It’s just me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, he was very insistent,’ Godfrey says in a tone that suggests he isn’t sorry at all. He backs away and disappears off with his briefcase and shiny shoes, while Ross stands gazing down at me in his leather jacket and blue jeans.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me to take a seat?’

  ‘If you must,’ I say coolly, as Seven jumps down, picks up one of his toys and wanders over to greet him. Ross moves the newspaper that Godfrey’s left behind, so he can sit down in the armchair opposite, leaning forwards with his knees apart and his hands on his thighs.

  I recall the last time we were together, out training Trevor by the river, and up at Talyford outside his house, and how I drove away. Blushing, I touch my face, adding up how many of his texts and voicemails I’ve ignored. The ache of regret and longing returns. If it hadn’t been for the accident, who knows what might have happened? We could be lovers . . . I suppress the memory of Ross holding me close, of making love with him and waking up in his arms.

  ‘There are no ops this morning. Maz is chasing DJ to find out why he hasn’t made so much as an appearance at the branch surgery in the past week and Emma’s consulting. There’s a bit of a lull, so I thought I’d come and see you.’

  ‘You mean, they sent you.’

  ‘You haven’t been answering my calls or my texts again.’ His expression hardens. ‘I had to see you.’

  ‘Now that you have, you can go back to work.’ My feelings for him come tumbling back like the surf crashing onto the beach from the sea, swirling and sucking me back to a time when I couldn’t sleep for thinking about him. I can’t weaken now. Whatever we had is over. Too much water has passed under the bridge for us to return to our easy friendship. I look away at the television to hide the scars. I wonder what Jeremy Kyle would make of our situation. Would he say: there are two sides to every story? Would he get us together to talk?

  ‘Will you turn the sound down, or switch it off? We need to talk and I can hardly hear myself speak.’

  Why do people keep telling me what I need? I have everything I require right here. I pick up the remote and stab the mute button.

  ‘Thank you. This won’t take long. I’m here to ask you when you’re coming back to work. It isn’t the same without you and I can’t take much more of Izzy. I miss you.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘I suppose you have to wait for your consultant’s say-so.’ He doesn’t take his eyes off me. I pick at a thread on my sleeve as my faithless hound sits at his feet.

  ‘I’ve had the all-clear,’I confess.

  ‘That’s great. Brilliant.’

  ‘Physically, at least,’ I continue, ‘but Nicci’s signed me off for another week so I can get my head straight.’

  ‘The longer you leave it, the more difficult it will be,’ he says quietly, his voice so gentle that it shatters my heart.

  ‘But I’m not ready. I’m not sure that I ever will be. I’ve lost my confidence.’ What use is a vet nurse who can’t handle a big dog for injections?

  ‘You can always start with the little dogs like Merrie,’ he says, as if he can read my mind.

  ‘And then there’s this.’ I point to my scars.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Don’t pretend you can’t see them.’ I swear out loud. ‘When I go out, people don’t look at me. They can’t see past these.’

  ‘You’re generalising. Our clients are bound to be curious at first, but they’ll get used to it.’

  I bite back impending tears. ’I’ll never get used to it. You don’t have to put up with what they say and how they look at me. Even some of the people who’ve known me for years can’t bring themselves to look me in the eye – when I look at their faces all I can see is pity. And you saw how threatening those teenage yobs were. You were there.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Ross moves across to me, squats down and reaches for my hand. I push him away.

  ‘I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to leave me alone.’

  ‘Have you talked to anyone, seen a counsellor?’

  ‘No I haven’t. I’m sick of talking about it.’

  ‘If you took up Maz’s offer of suing the
practice, you could pay to see someone really good privately.’ His tone is sharp and unsettling, as if he’s losing patience with me. ‘You really should do something. I mean, you’re sitting here on your arse all day when you should be out there.’

  ‘I’m happy as I am,’ I say stubbornly.

  ‘If you ask me, you’re wallowing in self-pity. You haven’t even asked about the kittens – who are doing well, by the way.’

  ‘I have thought of them often.’

  ‘They have homes to go to in a couple of weeks’ time. Well, Tilly isn’t going anywhere – she’s staying on as trainee practice cat as long as she gets on with Tripod, who is also on good form in case you’re interested.’

  ‘What’s happening to Kit?’

  ‘Celine’s fallen in love with him – she’s definitely taking him on.’ He stares at me. ‘I don’t think you care about anything any more. I thought you were better than this.’

  ‘Thanks a lot for the diagnosis.’

  ‘I don’t see any point in beating around the bush when I’ve tried every which way I can to help you. You need to snap out of it.’

  ‘If only it was that easy,’ I retort, seriously annoyed. Everyone knows you can’t just snap out of a low mood. ‘How can you have any idea what it’s like for me? Every time I go out, I have the choice of sticking a load of Polyfilla in my face, or going make-up free and showing off the scars.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be hanging around shut up here all day every day, wasting my life. I’d be getting on with it.’

  I’ve had enough. I stand up. ‘Luckily, we aren’t all the same. I wouldn’t want to be like you, living at full throttle and so thick-skinned – ’ I hesitate, knowing I’m being harsh on him, but I’m furious – ’that you wouldn’t notice if you’d had half your face bitten off.’

  Ross glares at me. ‘That’s completely unfair. I’m trying to help.’

  A voice in my head whispers that I’m overreacting because Ross does regret his actions, and maybe I’m being like this because I need to keep my distance, so I can fall out of love with him and stop looking back at what might have been.

  ‘I’d like you to leave now. You can take your particular brand of sympathy and use it to upset somebody else,’ I say, but I’m not sure he’s listening to me because he starts up again.