by Jane Frances
What had prompted such a response? Was it sudden sympathy for a woman who probably had few female friends because none dared let “her man” within striking distance for fear he may be seduced by her charms? Or was it because Emma herself was still so seduced by her charms she was unable to say no to anything Justine requested of her? Or was it because the pressure of Justine’s hand on her arm got her brain so muddled it had mistakenly activated the nerve endings in her groin?
Emma didn’t have time to figure it out. The buzzer attached to the front door announced the arrival of a customer. Problems with Justine and Colleen would have to wait. For now she had a veterinary practice to run.
When the door opened, recognition came immediately, as did the blush that burned Emma’s cheeks.
Toni.
Emma had not been so drunk she had forgotten the utter fool she made of herself on Saturday night. According to Lisa when she dropped Emma at home the next day, she had also upset Toni quite considerably. Emma had not seen Toni since. She hadn’t attended Lisa’s birthday brunch, far too hung over to do anything but sit in a shaft of sunlight on her lounge room floor and feel abjectly sorry for herself. So the chance to apologize in person had been lost, and each time Emma picked up the phone to call Toni via Cathy’s work number, nerves at the possible reaction got the better of her. Now, however, was not the appropriate time to ask forgiveness. Toni was obviously not here to pick up pet food or a flea collar. The woman was distraught to the point she was shaking. And in complete contrast to Emma’s heightened embarrassment, it appeared all the blood had drained from Toni’s cheeks.
“Virgil.” The cat carry cage Toni clasped was lifted almost to the height of the reception console. “Her tail…she’s hurt. Please.” Toni looked past Emma to the corridor leading to the consultation rooms. “She needs help.”
Emma rounded the reception desk. She knew from experience most people would not release hold of their pets until it was time to put them on the examination table, so she made no attempt to take the carry cage from Toni. Instead she placed a guiding hand on her shoulder, “Come this way.”
Once in the consultation room Toni placed the carry cage directly onto the stainless steel bench but faltered when Emma reached to open it. “Aren’t you going to wait for Tricia?”
“Tricia’s away at the moment, Toni. I’ve taken over while she’s gone.”
There was no disguising the surprise that crossed Toni’s features, or the slight narrowing of her eyes. Emma realized Toni had not known of her profession, and it was quite obvious she was dubious of her abilities. Not really surprising, given Saturday night’s performance.
It seemed distress won over distrust. “Please help her.”
“I will,” Emma reassured her, opening the carry cage and reaching carefully for the mottled bundle that lay huddled at the far end. “Now you say she’s hurt her tail…”
For the second time in as many hours, Toni leaned against the headrest in Cathy’s car and closed her eyes. The adrenaline that had kept her going for the last hour finally seeped away, and tears the adrenaline refused to allow while action was required welled behind her closed lids. Now that there was nothing more she could do for Virgil except wait, she succumbed to her tears. They flowed freely, hot and salty as they ran down her cheeks and into her mouth.
The last hour had been one of the worst in Toni’s life. She remembered every detail—the howls of pain when Toni pushed open her back door, Virgil fleeing under the couch the moment her tail was freed. Toni was unsuccessful in trying to coax Virgil from her hiding place, instead having to drag her out, Virgil’s claws scratching against the wooden floorboards. Then there was the shock of seeing Virgil’s tail—her beautiful tail—all mangled and bloody as Toni fed her into the carry cage retrieved from the top of the laundry cupboard. “It’s okay,” Toni repeated throughout the drive to the vet, as much to convince herself as to try and calm the distressed mewing coming from the cage securely belted onto the passenger seat. “You’re going to be okay.”
The fact that Toni was greeted at reception by Emma hardly registered, her only concern to get Virgil the help she needed. However, once she discovered that Tricia, Virgil’s vet since she was a kitten, was not available and Emma was her replacement, Toni hovered over the decision to stay or go. Even if, as Emma claimed, she really was a qualified vet, that didn’t necessarily mean she was a good vet. For all Toni knew, the woman carried a hip flask and chugged on it throughout the day. She probably even had a cigarette dangling between her lips as she performed surgery.
Reason overrode Toni’s doubt. Tricia wouldn’t put her practice at stake by letting an incompetent loose on her clients. Whatever Toni thought of Emma personally, professionally she was probably as able as Tricia.
Nevertheless, Toni watched carefully for any signs of professional inadequacies while Emma performed her examination. She didn’t find any. Emma appeared in calm control, hands moving with surety over Virgil’s spine and abdomen, voice steady as she announced there was no sign of any other injury, internal or otherwise.
Emma did quirk an eyebrow when Toni’s response to her “How did this happen?” was that Virgil’s tail got caught in a door when Toni chased her inside trying to get a bird out of her mouth. But if Emma thought Toni an irresponsible pet owner she didn’t show it, nodding quietly and continuing with her examination.
“How bad is it?” Toni asked nervously, for the first time looking closely at the damage. It was awful. The skin at the end of Virgil’s tail had gloved over itself, exposing raw skin and bone.
“It looks a lot worse than it is.” Emma indicated the vertebra third from Virgil’s tail tip. “But this bone is crushed beyond repair. Unfortunately, the only solution is to remove this section of tail.”
“Oh, my God,” Toni’s hand flew to her mouth and immediately doubts of Emma’s abilities resurfaced. What if she botched it up and Virgil lost the ability to walk? “Is that really necessary?”
“It’s okay, Toni. It’s quite a simple procedure.” Emma seemed to sense the reason for Toni’s distress, and she smoothed her hand down Virgil’s back to the point where the tail began. “Cats tails consist only of bone, muscles, ligaments and tendon. The spinal cord finishes here.” Emma pointed to what she announced was the fifth lumbar vertebra. “So it’s not affected by tail injuries. Toni, Virgil will be okay—she’ll have to get used to life with a slightly shortened tail, but she will be fine. Trust me.”
So Toni had laid her trust in Emma. She left her best friend behind and walked out of the premises with the promise she would be called if necessary. Otherwise Toni could pick Virgil up after ten a.m. the next day.
Toni checked her watch through tear-blurred eyes. It was only just going nine a.m. How was she going to make it through the next twenty-five hours? She rubbed her temples. Her headache, forgotten as she attended to Virgil’s needs, had returned with a vengeance. She checked herself in the rearview mirror. God, she looked as bad as she felt. Her teary session certainly hadn’t helped; her skin was red and blotchy. Toni frowned at her reflection. What was that blister-like lesion between her eyebrows? She’d have to ask the chemist when she picked up her painkillers.
Toni turned the key in the ignition and reversed from the parking bay. Chemist, home, shower, dress, work, wait, worry. She rang the office from her mobile, announcing she would be later than expected. Sue, the receptionist, sounded like she wasn’t at all surprised, but her sarcasm dissolved when Toni tearfully related the reason.
“Do you want to take the day, Toni? I can cancel your two o’clock.”
“No, it’s fine.” Toni swiped at her eyes. Sitting at home all day would only cause her to worry more. Work was as good a time-filler as any. “I’ll be in as soon as I can.”
Chapter Six
The plane touched down on schedule, but by the time Lisa and Cathy made it through the scrutiny of customs, survived a hair-raising taxi ride from the airport to the hotel and checked in, another
two hours had elapsed. Cathy would not adjust her watch to Italy time, the six-hour time difference an easy enough calculation to do in her head. It was three-thirty p.m. Saturday in Perth. Nine-thirty a.m. the same day in Rome.
Luckily the electronic swipe card that gave access to their room worked the first time and they tumbled into what would be their quarters for the week spent in Italy’s capital. Cathy’s immediate reaction to their accommodation was positive. The hotel, a recent addition to the Roman landscape, seemed to deliver everything promised by its Web site. From her position near the door, Cathy could not see the bedroom or bathroom, but if the lounge/dining area was any indication, those two rooms would also be modern and elegant, with stylish furniture and fittings. Apart from its pleasing aesthetics, the hotel also won Cathy over by its location. It was within easy walking distance of a number of Rome’s most famous attractions—the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain and Piazza Navoni. It seemed Cathy’s choice won favor on both counts. A visit to the Trevi Fountain topped Lisa’s Rome “must do” list and having it so close guaranteed more than the required three coins would be tossed over her shoulder and into its waters. And if the excited exclamations coming from the other rooms were anything to go by, the suite would be a welcome sanctuary after their days of sightseeing.
Cathy walked into the bedroom, humming happily as she deposited her cabin bag next to the bed. On the few occasions they had stayed in hotels over the last year, Lisa revealed an enthusiasm for her surrounds that Cathy found both refreshing and contagious. On entering a hotel room Lisa would immediately rush around, opening drawers and poking in corners, exclaiming over each new item she found. Whatever the room offered, Lisa would make sure it was utilized. If fluffy bathrobes and slippers were supplied, they would be worn; if there was a balcony, they would sit out on it. The only thing she refused to touch was the minibar, declaring it a total ripoff. Apart from the fact they had to forestall having a glass of wine until they had found the local liquor merchant, Cathy loved this aspect of Lisa, loved that she was not afraid to display her enthusiasm.
True to form, Lisa called excitedly from the bathroom, “Honey, we’ve got a bath. And they’ve provided cleanser and toner and a mudpack. We’ll have to give each other facials. And you should see the showerhead. It’s almost as big as a dinner plate.” A short silence ensued, followed by a snicker. “Cathy Braithwaite’s work, I presume.”
“What’s that?” Cathy entered the bathroom and smiled. The hotel management had not forgotten her special request. Lisa stared at a large bowl of tomatoes. They were ripe, very red, and from what Cathy could see, perfectly formed and unblemished.
Lisa selected a tomato from the bowl, tossing it in her hand as she turned to Cathy. “You’re not going to ever let me forget, are you?”
“Not in this lifetime.” Cathy laughed out loud, as she did every time she remembered. This Monday it would be a year to the day—their anniversary—that it happened. Sitting in a café overlooking the ocean, Cathy could not keep her sentiments in any longer and blurted her love for Lisa. That Lisa was unprepared for the announcement was an understatement. Her sudden shocked movement caught the edge of her fork and sent the remains of her meal—a single cherry tomato—flying into the air and straight into the wineglass of a fellow diner. Their exit from the café was hasty, their subsequent entry to Cathy’s bed just as fast, and the rest, as they say, was history.
Cathy thought this trip, given it was a celebration of their first year together, as good a time as any for a reminder. So she’d arranged with the hotel management for a bowl of tomatoes to be left in the room in place of the customary flowers.
Lisa took a bite of the tomato and held it out to Cathy, an offer to try it. “Mmm, this is delicious.” She nodded to the shower recess. “I vote we have a nice hot shower and a lie-down.”
Cathy took a bite of the proffered tomato. Lisa was right. It was juicy and bursting with flavor. “You know, the best way to beat jet lag is to keep to local hours. If we sleep all day we’ll be awake all night.”
Lisa placed the partially eaten tomato on the vanity, freeing her hands so they could work on the top button of Cathy’s shirt. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
Cathy glanced at fingers nimble with practice. She made no attempt to halt them. “What about your fountain? I thought you were desperate to toss some coins and ensure your return to Rome?”
Button number two on Cathy’s shirt was popped open. “Tell me again when it was built.”
Cathy tilted her head to give Lisa’s lips access to her neck, “Around the early seventeen hundreds, I think.”
“Well, if it’s survived this long, I’m sure it will still be there in another few hours.”
Cathy’s giggle came out as a gasp, Lisa’s attentions sending shivers all the way down her spine. “What about our luggage?”
“Honey.” The last of Cathy’s shirt buttons was freed and Lisa slid her hands under the material, drawing it open. “You don’t need any clothes for what I plan to do to you.”
A flash of reason sliced through Cathy’s already sensation-muddied mind. “We didn’t put the chain on the door. And the porter will just let himself in if we don’t put the Do Not Disturb sign up.”
The nibbling at the soft skin of Cathy’s earlobe stopped, but Lisa’s lips did not break contact. “You’re a spoilsport, Cathy.”
“Just practical.” Cathy reluctantly extricated herself from Lisa’s arms, wondering when the physical attraction between them would eventually wane. Or, more accurately, if it ever would. It had been a whole year and still they reacted as quickly and as strongly to each other as ever. If anything, they had stepped up a notch. Maybe not in frequency—it seemed something or someone forever needed their attention—but the moment they were alone, sparks flew. The both of them were relishing this time away together; now if the damned porter would just hurry himself up, they could relax and officially begin their holiday. “I’m guessing our luggage will arrive any minute. Tell you what, why don’t you ring your folks and let them know you’ve arrived okay. I’ll take care of the door.”
Lisa screwed up her nose, but she headed for her cabin bag. Sure enough, just as Lisa was connected to her mum, a knock sounded. Cathy oversaw the depositing of luggage onto the racks, tipped the porter, hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the outer handle and slid the safety chain across.
“How are your mum and dad?” Cathy sat next to Lisa on the edge of the bed.
“They’re good, said to say hi.” Lisa frowned at the phone’s display. “I’ve got a bunch of messages here. Shall I deal with them now or later?”
“Let’s do it now.” Cathy imagined there’d be at least a couple of messages waiting for her too. “Get it over and done with.”
Cathy retrieved her own mobile while Lisa accessed her message bank. Both phones had been turned off since the departure lounge at Perth. They hadn’t turned them on since, even during their short transit stop in Singapore, both of them too busy packing in as much leg-stretching activity as possible before boarding for the long haul to Rome.
“I wonder what’s happened now?” Two of the messages, one from Emma and one from Toni, requested they call as soon as possible. Both messages had been left on both phones.
Lisa grinned wickedly. “Maybe they’ve rung to announce they’ve run away together.”
Cathy rolled her eyes, not even prepared to comment on Lisa’s continued cupid quest. She’d heard enough last night, when, despite their seats being turned into comfortable in-flight beds, Lisa was unable to sleep. Tiredness and boredom sent Lisa’s imagination into overload and Cathy was treated to a succession of whispered matchmaking schemes, not to mention grotesque plans for the elimination of the Teletubbies. “Let’s find out what’s up. You take Emma. I’ll take Toni.”
Five minutes later Lisa hung up from her call, her expression disbelieving. “Emma’s chucked in her job. She’s cut off Virgil’s tail and she’s going to be a bridesmaid.”
&nb
sp; Cathy nodded at the first piece of news. It was not too much of a surprise, Emma frequently voicing her unhappiness with the new management. She’d heard about Virgil from Toni, and the bridesmaid business, well, she’d get details on that later. Not that she didn’t care, she just had bigger things to worry over. “Lisa, have you had chicken pox?”
“What?”
“Chicken pox. Toni’s got it.”
“What?”
“Chicken pox,” Cathy said for the third time. “Toni’s got chicken pox.”
“Yes, I’ve had it…but you have too, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
Cathy could pinpoint the moment the penny dropped with Lisa. Having paced around the perimeter of the bed while on the phone, she now sat down heavily. The possibility of them contracting chicken pox wasn’t the issue. The operation of Cathy’s accountancy practice in Toni’s absence was. “How long will Toni be off work?” Lisa asked.
“I don’t know. Apparently it’s quite severe. It’s worse with adults, you know. They’re talking at least two, maybe three weeks.”
“Shit.”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Cathy had hung up from Toni with a promise to call her back after she’d spoken to Lisa.
From the corner of her eye, Cathy could see Lisa doing a visual sweep of their suite as she asked, “Are we going to have to go home?”
“I don’t know yet,” Cathy said honestly. During Toni’s extended leave last year Cathy had hired an accountant from a temping agency and Cathy shouldered Toni’s workload while the temp came up to speed. With both of them away, however, Julie was the only accountant left at the practice. Julie, although she had only graduated less than eighteen months prior, was proving herself more than able, but she couldn’t be expected to run the entire ship until Cathy or Toni returned. Cathy guessed she could always just tell Sue, the receptionist, to cancel everything in Toni’s schedule and hope her clients would rebook for a later date. But by the time Cathy returned, they would be spearheading into the busiest time of the year—tax time. Servicing all Toni’s cancelled clients as well as the flurry of business the end of tax year creates would be…a challenge.
