by Lucy Daniels
Mandy took his hand, then let it fall. Her legs felt stiff. ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you.’ Her voice was steadier than she had expected.
His eyes filled with alarm. ‘Is Zoe all right?’
She sat down beside him, searching for words. She couldn’t look at his face. ‘It’s not that. Dad’s looking at her, I think she’s okay. There’s something else.’
Despite not looking at him, she could see him on the edge of her vision. He was gazing at her, his head on one side. Some of the tension had retreated, but he still looked worried. ‘What then?’
Her fingers were trembling. She knitted them together. ‘I was looking at the X-ray again.’ He was looking at her still. She was going to have to look at him. She pressed her fingers together until the tips were white and then lifted her head. ‘The tumour was there,’ she said. Her breath was uneven, but she had to go on. ‘I missed it. If I’d seen it, I wouldn’t have given her oxytocin. If I’d operated straight away, the puppies might have made it.’
There it was. It was out. The muscles in his jaw were working. The reddened eyes were confused only for a moment. She saw it hit home. He swallowed, took a deep, shaky breath and pressed his lips together.
He was very still. As if it was a huge effort, he nodded once. The silence stretched out. ‘Thanks for telling me,’ he said eventually. His mouth quivered for a moment, but he rallied. He reached out again with his hand, unravelling her fingers, twining them in his. He managed a pained smile.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. The words were inadequate, but she said them anyway.
‘It’s not your fault,’ he said. ‘I know you did your best. It could have happened to anyone.’
Did he really believe that? she wondered. Could it have happened to anyone? Dad had seen the tumour as soon as he’d looked at the X-ray. Her gaze wandered. Outside the window, a pair of car headlights came up the lane. In a moment, the twins would be here.
‘Would you mind if I talk to the twins alone?’ Jimmy’s fingers gripped hers. His voice was urgent. ‘I … I won’t tell them what you just told me, if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind.’ It was his decision: his children. ‘Tell them whatever you think is best.’ It was hard to get the words out. Adam had come out into the waiting room. He walked across with a tactful smile. ‘Zoe’s comfortable, and her puppy looks happy and healthy.’ He must have heard the end of their conversation, because he spoke directly to Jimmy. ‘I can take you and the twins through, if that’s okay.’
Again, Mandy felt the relief that her father’s presence carried. How wonderful he was. Adam turned his kind gaze to her. ‘Helen’s been speaking to Mum,’ he told her. She’s awake. Go into the kitchen. I’ll be in as soon as we’ve finished up.’
Outside the window, the car had stopped. The lights had gone out. The driver’s door opened and Dan Jones climbed out. His face was grave.
Jimmy gripped Mandy’s fingers one last time, then let go. Mandy could hardly feel her feet as she stood up and walked the familiar steps across the waiting room. She opened the door that led to the cottage and stepped through.
For a moment, it felt as if normality had clicked back into place. Sky rushed towards her, her whole body wagging in ecstasy. Emily was standing beside the kettle waiting for it to boil. Mandy bent to hug Sky. The familiar solidity of her slim body comforted Mandy and she buried her face in the soft fur, breathing in the wonderful sweet smell of Sky’s coat. After a moment, Mandy stood up. Mum had the same reassuring look that Dad had given her.
‘I thought we’d have some hot chocolate,’ she said. She smiled as of old, bustling over to the cupboard, pulling out mugs and chocolate powder, finding biscuits. ‘Come and sit down.’ She rounded the table and pulled out Mandy’s chair. Mandy was reminded again of her childhood. Mum and Dad had always been there when things had gone wrong. She sat down, still unable to speak as Emily opened the fridge, added cream to the steaming mugs.
‘Did Jimmy take it okay?’ Emily had made hot chocolate for herself as well. She put the drinks on the table and sat down opposite Mandy, her gaze steady. There was no blame in her eyes: only compassion. Mandy nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet. She felt a prickling in her eyes. Her vision blurred. A tear fell from her eye creating a dark smudge on the green scrub top that she was still wearing. How proud she had been to wear these clothes. They were the outward badge of her education: of her competence to treat animals. First do no harm. The ancient phrase was drummed into them at veterinary college.
‘Oh, Mandy.’ Her mum had reached her hand across the table and placed it over hers. Her thumb moved backwards and forwards, stroking softly. ‘I know how hard it is. It happens to us all.’
She sat for a moment, deep in her own thoughts, then her eyes sought Mandy’s with a sad smile. ‘You remember Jean Knox?’ she asked. There was a wistful look on her face that Mandy hadn’t seen before.
Of course, she remembered. Jean had been the receptionist at Animal Ark before Mandy had gone to vet school. She could barely remember the time before Jean had arrived.
‘Before Jean worked for us, she had a dog called Trixie,’ Emily went on. ‘She was a lovely thing, a crossbreed with the most wonderful expressive eyes. Jean loved her so much. I’d known her since she was a tiny puppy.’ Mum paused and looked down at her mug for a moment, then looked up. ‘Well, she came in when she was four years old with a tiny mark on her skin. Just a little hairless lump on her leg.’ She stopped again and swallowed hard. Her eyes wandered up to the ceiling as if searching for comfort and she sighed, before looking back at Mandy. ‘I told Jean it didn’t look sinister. I said she should just keep an eye on it. She came back a couple of months later because it had grown.’ Emily put her hands round her mug as if seeking comfort. Her cheek twitched, and she gave the tiniest shake of her head. ‘It was such a busy night,’ she said. There was a distant look in her eyes. ‘I looked at it again. I was sure it was something benign. A histiocytoma, I thought. Told her it would go away if she gave it time. Of course, I should have taken a biopsy, but I didn’t.’
Mandy could imagine the scene so clearly. She’d seen plenty of histiocytomas herself. Benign tumours that looked alarming but would just disappear on their own after a few months, no harm done. She couldn’t take her eyes off her mum. She had known Jean for years. There had never been a mention of any pets. She had been very fond of some of the patients, but Mandy had assumed she wasn’t one for having animals of her own.
‘It was a mast cell tumour.’ Emily’s voice was so quiet that Mandy had to strain to hear. ‘By the time I removed it, it had spread. Trixie just faded away. Your dad put her to sleep eventually. I could hardly bring myself to face Jean.’ Mum’s thumb had stopped moving on Mandy’s hand. There was so much pain in her eyes, but she managed a smile. ‘I was amazed when she applied to be our receptionist. I’d always thought she must blame me. She never, ever mentioned it. She was far too good to me. You must remember how kind she was.’
Mandy nodded. Jean had always been lovely to everyone, human or animal.
‘She never got another pet.’ Tears in her mum’s eyes. She lifted a hand to brush them away. ‘I always wondered whether it was because she couldn’t face it after Trixie.’
Mandy gazed across the table, still clinging to her mum’s hand. Emily was a wonderful vet. She always had been.
‘It’s just how it is, being a vet.’ Emily’s smile was tight. ‘Mostly it’s a great job, but when it goes wrong, it’s the worst thing in the world.’
Adam joined them after a while. ‘Jimmy and the twins have gone,’ he said, pulling out a seat and sitting down. ‘Zoe’s doing well and so is her puppy. The X-ray of her chest is clear. Helen’s with her for now.’ He smiled across the table at Mandy and sighed. ‘Sometimes I think this must be the hardest job in the world,’ he said, and Emily nodded up at him as he echoed her words.
There was something in that, Mandy thought. Lots of people went t
o work every day and the worst thing that might happen was that someone would be angry. Losing huge amounts of money or breaking important equipment was bad. But responsibility over life and death? That was different.
‘I’ve seen how much you’ve learned.’ Her dad was gazing at her, just as Mum had. ‘Animals trust you. They always have. You’ve worked so hard and now you’re one of the best vets I’ve worked with. You’ve saved so many lives already.’
There was a huge lump in Mandy’s throat. She might not believe it, but she could see from Adam’s face that he did. Despite the awful events of the evening, he thought she was a good vet.
He gave a strangled laugh when he saw her expression. ‘We all make mistakes,’ he went on. ‘Even your mum.’ He sent a wry glance towards Emily, who almost managed a smile, but shook her head instead. Adam put an elbow on the table and leaned forward. ‘I know you probably don’t feel sleepy,’ he said, ‘but it’s really late and I know you were up at the crack of dawn.’
Mandy glanced up at the clock on the wall. Sure enough, it was four a.m. It was tomorrow already. ‘I want you to go up to bed and get some rest,’ Adam told her. His voice was firm. ‘You too,’ he said to Emily. ‘Helen’s going to look after Zoe tonight. I’ll give Rachel a call first thing.’
Mandy dropped into the familiar single bed a few minutes later. It was beginning to get light outside. Her window was open and she could hear birds calling to one another. Her face felt hot and she turned over, trying to find a cool part of her pillow. She had expected to cry, but no tears had come. She felt empty, as if there was nothing left in the world to feel. She wondered about the twins. How had they taken it? Would they be worried about their mum? They must have been frightened, seeing Zoe all connected up to her drip, listless after her operation. They had been hoping for so much. Jimmy too. Now it was all awful. Would they ever forgive her?
She lay awake, unblinking eyes on the ceiling. She had to be up in three hours. Despite her pain, she was exhausted and, by degrees, she drifted into a troubled sleep.
Chapter Twenty
She was woken at seven by the phone. There was a brief moment of wondering who would call at this hour, then last night’s events crashed into her brain. It must be Jimmy. She reached for the phone on the bedside with a hand that was not altogether steady.
‘Hello?’ Her voice came out in a kind of croak.
‘Good morning.’ Confusion hit. It was a woman’s voice: crisp and rather strident. ‘Sorry to call so early, but I need to confirm your inspection this morning.’
A wrong number at seven in the morning? Mandy wanted to scream. She was gathering herself to reply when the voice boomed into her ear again. ‘Can I just check that you are Amanda Hope of Hope Meadows, please?’
Mandy pulled the mobile phone away from her ear for a moment. Frowning, she checked the screen. It was an unknown number. She put the receiver back to her ear. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I am. Amanda Hope.’ She paused, still trying to gather her thoughts. ‘Sorry, who are you?’
This time the voice had a tone of exaggerated patience. ‘I’m Clarissa Tarley from the Walmey Foundation. It’s about the grant application.’
‘Grant …?’ Mandy wondered for a moment whether she had entered some kind of parallel universe.
‘We’re coming out this morning at eight a.m. to inspect your premises. Sorry if there has been any confusion. We’ve been dealing with your secretary, Nicole. Can I confirm you’ll be ready to go ahead this morning? We won’t be back in the area this year unfortunately, so this will be the only chance we have to inspect you.’
Inspect her? For a moment, Mandy had an image of a strict school inspector checking behind her ears to see whether she was clean. And her secretary? What on earth had Nicole been up to? She lifted a hand to her forehead and pressed hard, trying to dispel the knot of pain that was forming. ‘Eight o’clock this morning,’ she repeated. ‘Okay.’
‘Lovely.’ The voice was relentlessly upbeat. Mandy gritted her teeth. It wasn’t lovely at all.
The moment the woman had gone, Mandy dialled Nicole.
‘Hello?’ Nicole’s voice was sweet in contrast with Clarissa Tarley’s.
‘Nicole, I’ve just had a very strange phone call about some grant application. The woman said she’d spoken to you?’
There was a gasp on the other end of the phone. ‘Oh my goodness!’ Nicole sounded almost as shocked as Mandy felt. ‘Was it the Walmey Foundation?’ she asked. ‘I’m really sorry, Mandy. I only sent the forms in last week. I didn’t think anything would happen so quickly.’
‘But what is it?’ Mandy tried to keep her voice patient, but it was an uphill struggle. Her head was pounding.
‘It’s for the Walmey Foundation Memorial Grant,’ Nicole explained. ‘They offer annual funding for rescue centres in rural communities. I called them two weeks ago, they sent me a form and I filled it in. I wasn’t really expecting to hear anything. It’s only supposed to cover centres that look after small animals, but I thought I’d try anyway …’ Her voice trailed off.
‘Well, they’re coming at eight this morning.’ Mandy’s head hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut. Why had Nicole not told her for goodness’ sake? A grant was a great idea, but there was no way she could do it in time. Gran and Grandad wouldn’t be in until ten and she was exhausted.
‘Oh my god! I’ll come straight over,’ Nicole spoke again, her voice breathless. ‘I don’t have to be at college this morning till ten thirty.’ She put the phone down before Mandy had time to respond.
Despite the looming deadline, once Mandy had thrown on the smartest-looking pair of jeans and shirt she could grab and dragged a brush through her hair, she checked on Zoe before heading over to Hope Meadows. The puppy was doing well, already fluffing out – it would have a luxurious coat when it was fully grown – but the best that could be said about Zoe was that she was stable. Mandy balled her fists in her pockets and ran across the paddock to Hope Meadows, her heart pounding.
Nicole arrived only ten minutes later. Mandy couldn’t bring herself to say much to her, but together they cleaned out the litter trays and cages, the food bowls and kennels, and made sure all the dogs had a chance to run outside in the early morning sunshine.
The cupboard in reception was in a state. Mandy had rifled through everything two days ago when she had been searching for a form about rabbit adoption after a rather hurried phone call from a breeder. She had meant to sort it out, but it had slipped her mind.
To her surprise, everything else seemed in remarkably good order. When she commented on it, Nicole sent her a shy glance. ‘I have been trying to tidy up a bit,’ she admitted. ‘Ever since I sent the application.’
A memory swung into Mandy’s head. So that was why Nicole had asked about stationery and checklists. If only she had explained. They could have sorted everything out between them. Now wasn’t the time to say anything. She glanced around the cat room. Everything looked tidy. She checked the time. It was almost eight. She dashed back through to reception just in time to see a car draw up outside. Two people, a tall man and a rather stout woman climbed out. The woman was clutching a clipboard.
To the left of the car, a movement caught her eye. Robin and Holly were making their way towards the newcomers, their ears pricked, looking delighted. Mandy was proud of their friendliness, but her breath caught when she saw how much loose fur there was on Robin’s rump. There had been no time for grooming. She hadn’t even fed them yet. The empty hay net hung in the field shelter. She could only hope that their water trough was clean.
Having greeted the donkeys, the strangers turned and made their way to the door. Mandy rushed to meet them. She pulled open the door and ushered them inside.
‘Welcome to Hope Meadows,’ she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound too breathless.
The man looked even taller close up. He smiled as he shook hands with both Mandy and Nicole. ‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘I’m Anthony Mearns and this is Clarissa Tarley, who sp
oke to you earlier.’ He gestured to the window, to where the donkeys were still looking over the fence. ‘Lovely welcome from your donkeys,’ he said.
Clarissa Tarley was not at all as Mandy had imagined her from the voice on the phone. She was shorter than Mandy had expected, with dark curly hair and friendly eyes that smiled at the world from behind an enormous pair of glasses. She grinned as she reached out a hand and Mandy felt herself beginning to relax. ‘Shall we see the dog kennels first?’ she suggested. Though her voice was as brisk as it had been on the phone, it was less intimidating coming from that jolly, rounded frame.
‘Absolutely! This way.’ Mandy managed to grin back at both Anthony and Clarissa. ‘We’re quite full just now,’ she added over her shoulder. She was thinking fast as she walked. She would introduce the dogs one at a time, she thought. Tablet and Hattie should go first. They were both very placid. She would leave Brutus the Labrador till last. That way he would have plenty of time to get used to the sound and scent of the visitors. If she was really lucky, he wouldn’t bark.
She pushed the door. Already, her mind was moving ahead to the rest of the visit. They would look at the small furries and then Frank the owl. The cats could go last. She would get the kittens out, she thought. Show her feeding regime. Mumma was so much better now.
The door into the kennel room was always a little stiff. Mandy gave it a brisk shove, then went through and held it open. Nicole passed, followed by Clarissa, then Anthony, bending slightly so he didn’t bump his head. Mandy took a step backwards to allow space for him. Her heel caught on something. Nicole had left a broom leaning against the wall. The weight of her foot brought the broom handle upright and it hit her head. She flailed for a moment, trying to regain her balance, but then with all the grace of a toad on a tightrope, she crashed over backwards. The broom fell alongside her and she landed in a tangled heap, upsetting an empty metal bowl. It clattered across the floor, then rolled to a stop at the feet of Clarissa Tarley.
