by Lucy Daniels
She smiled back, then looked at the class. ‘Well, children, wasn’t that lovely?’ she said. ‘I’d like you all to give Mr MacLeod a round of applause, please.’ She and Nina started to clap and the children joined in, climbing to their knees, faces glowing.
Douglas smiled and held up his hands for silence. ‘Thank you!’ he said to the class. He turned to Susan. ‘And thank you, Miss Collins, for agreeing to have me. It really has been a pleasure.’ His honest blue eyes crinkled, lighting up his whole face. Susan accompanied him to the door. ‘Thank you very much for coming,’ she said, then very quietly, ‘I’ll see you later.’
He smiled again. ‘I can’t wait,’ he whispered. Susan was relieved when he left and she could close the door behind him. Nina walked over as she returned to the room. Susan could see that she was bursting to say something, but she sent a warning look.
She was glad when it was time to go home. She had, one way or another, avoided being alone with Nina. She didn’t want to talk about LoveSpark and Douglas. It was all too embarrassing.
The last thing in the world that she wanted to do tonight was go on that date. But there’s no excuse I could give, she thought to herself, desperately. He’s seen me today! She realised that aside from Douglas’s buffoonery, she was feeling uncomfortable about her dating life being so close to Jack. Then and there, she decided that she would do the date and tell Douglas that she wasn’t going to be dating any more. She would take down her LoveSpark profile. Online dating wasn’t for her.
She walked home with Jack along the edge of the green under the streetlights. It was still drizzling. Each lamp was surrounded by an orange halo of mist. Jack was holding her hand. He seemed weary. It was a pity she was going out, she thought. A lovely evening, reading stories in front of the fire with Jack, then a couple of hours of TV, seemed so appealing. Much better than donning her glad rags and meeting a near-stranger in a bar. She knew how it would be, searching for things to say: wondering what would happen this time when she mentioned her family. It felt odd this time. Douglas had met Jack, but not known he was her son.
It doesn’t matter either way because I’m only seeing him this once, she told herself as she pulled the front-door key from her bag. She fitted the key in the lock but then a voice called from behind her. ‘Susan?’ She turned. It was Mr Gorski, standing without a jacket, looking lost. Susan felt immediately that something was very wrong.
‘Susan, I’m sorry but I need help. Coffee’s not well.’
Worry filled Susan’s mind. Coffee wasn’t a young dog. ‘Oh, I’m sorry! What’s wrong with her?’ she asked. ‘What do you need?’
‘She’s laid in her basket and whimpering and there’s blood on her blanket. I called Animal Ark and they’ve said to bring her in but it’s a long way to carry her. Please …’ The old man’s voice cracked. He was close to tears.
She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. He was so cold. ‘Of course I’ll take you,’ she said. She glanced down at Jack, who was gazing at Mr Gorski. He loved Coffee. How would he take it if she was seriously ill? But Mr Gorski needed help. There was nothing for it but to get the little dog to Animal Ark. ‘Come on, Jack,’ she said. ‘Mr Gorski needs us.’
Chapter Five
Susan pulled into Mr Gorski’s driveway and parked as near to the door as possible. She opened the rear door. Mr Gorski would have to sit with Coffee in the back seat. Jack could sit in the front for now. She took Jack’s hand again and followed Mr Gorski up the drive and into the house. He led them to the kitchen. Coffee was curled up in her basket, but she didn’t look comfortable. She was panting and her face was anxious. Usually when Jack came in, Coffee would leap up and rush to him. Now, though she managed to wag her tail, she didn’t try to move.
‘Can you wait there with Mr Gorski?’ Susan asked Jack.
Jack nodded, his eyes solemn. ‘Is Coffee going to be all right, Mummy?’
Susan squeezed his small fingers. ‘I’m not sure yet,’ she said. ‘We have to take her to Animal Ark.’
Mr Gorski held out a hand and Jack took it. Susan walked over and knelt down beside the little terrier.
‘Will Mandy be able to make her better?’ Jack asked. He sounded worried.
She glanced over at him. ‘I hope so,’ she said, ‘but we’ll have to wait and see, okay?’ She turned her attention back to Coffee. If the little dog was in pain, she needed to be very careful when she moved her. As Mr Gorski had said, there was blood on the cushion where she was lying. Susan reached out and stroked Coffee’s head. Her stumpy tail moved again. There was nothing for it. She was going to have to look.
As gently as she could, she rolled the terrier onto her side, then lifted her hind leg. Coffee’s eyes were white-rimmed, but she made no attempt to resist. For Jack’s sake, Susan stopped herself from crying out. There was blood everywhere. Near the back, in line with the teats that ran the length of her body there was a ragged looking wound. Coffee gave the tiniest whimper as she rolled back.
‘Will you be able to lift her?’ Mr Gorski looked down at her. He looked so worried that Susan wanted to hug him, but she had to stay practical.
‘Yes,’ she said. She put both arms under Coffee’s bed. She would lift the whole thing, she thought. Coffee would be more comfortable.
Mr Gorski steadied the little dog’s head as Susan manoeuvred the basket into the back seat of the car. He climbed in beside her and pulled on his seat belt. It was still raining hard. Susan could feel the rain on her back as she moved Jack’s booster and helped him into the front seat. Then, with the windscreen wipers lashing back and forth, she drove the short distance to Animal Ark.
The lights were still on. Susan opened the car door and lifted Coffee’s bed again. By the time she had Coffee in her arms, Mr Gorski had gone round and helped Jack out.
Helen Steer, Animal Ark’s veterinary nurse, was sitting behind the reception desk. Her long brown hair was neatly tied back. She glanced up as they dashed in. Her welcoming smile froze when she saw Susan’s face. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘She’s bleeding,’ Susan gasped. ‘Underneath.’
Helen was at her side in a second. It took only a moment for her to lift Coffee’s leg and see the awful wound. ‘Mandy’s free,’ she said. Her voice was so calm that Susan felt her heart slow a little. ‘Come on through,’ Helen said. She opened the consulting-room door and ushered them inside.
Mandy was sitting at the computer, but she stood up as soon as they walked in. ‘What’s up?’ she asked. She sounded just as composed as Helen had.
Susan put Coffee’s basket down on the black-topped table. ‘It’s Coffee,’ she said. ‘She’s bleeding.’
‘Okay then, let’s have a look.’ Mandy’s voice was soothing. She reached out and stroked Coffee’s head, then checked the little dog’s mouth. ‘Her gums are still nice and pink,’ she assured them. ‘I know it looks as if there’s a lot of blood, but she hasn’t lost a dangerous amount.’ The sure hands continued to explore. She shifted Coffee’s head onto her blanket, then rolled the quivering little body over. Susan felt a shock run through her. Under the bright lights, the ragged cut looked worse than ever. She sent a worried glance towards Jack. Helen, who had followed them through caught her gaze and held out a hand to Jack. ‘Would you like to come with me?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got a sweet cat through here that loves being stroked.’
To Susan’s relief, Jack grasped Helen’s hand and trotted away. Mr Gorski moved closer to the table. Mandy looked at them both. ‘I’m afraid Coffee has a tumour,’ she said. ‘It’s on her mammary gland. It’s burst open, which is why it’s been bleeding.’
Susan heard Mr Gorski’s gasp. He grasped the edge of the consulting table. For a moment, she wondered if he would fall, but he steadied himself. ‘Can you operate?’ he said. ‘She’s an old lady, but I’d like to try if possible. Please.’ Susan could hear the pain in his voice.
Mandy was stroking Coffee’s head, but she looked up at Mr Gorski and smiled. There was
so much sympathy in her eyes. ‘She’s ten, isn’t she?’ she said. Did Mandy know all her patients so well? Susan wondered. The intensity of Mandy’s professionalism and love of animals still amazed her.
Mr Gorski nodded. Mandy was checking over the rest of Coffee’s body. ‘I’m just going to check her lymph glands,’ she said. ‘It might be possible to operate, but I need to check if there’s any sign that the tumour’s spread.’ Reaching for a stethoscope, she spent a couple of minutes listening to Coffee’s lungs. She was very thorough, Susan thought, and wonderfully gentle. Coffee was a darling. Though the examination must have been uncomfortable at times, the little dog had only whimpered once. She even licked Mandy’s hand as if she understood Mandy was trying to help.
Mandy took a step back, her eyes serious. ‘There’s no reason we can’t operate,’ she said. ‘The tumour itself isn’t too big. I’d like to take some chest X-rays first, though. The lungs are one of the places we check to see if there’s any spread through the body. If her chest is clear, we can remove the lump itself. Better to do it now as it’s been bleeding.’ She looked up at them with her head on one side, giving Mr Gorski time to understand and consider.
‘Thank you,’ Mr Gorski said finally. Susan could see that tears were threatening to overflow from his eyes, but he stood firm. ‘Do everything you need to.’
Mandy reached for a form. The next few minutes were taken up with explanations about what she would do and how much it was all going to cost. Susan listened as Mandy and Mr Gorski discussed what to expect. Coffee was in the best possible place to get help.
A few minutes later, she and Mr Gorski were sitting in the waiting room. Jack was huddled beside her. Helen and Mandy had taken Coffee through to prepare her for her anaesthetic. She would need to be asleep for the X-rays. Susan glanced up at the clock on the wall. There was no way she could desert Mr Gorski. Not while Coffee’s life was hanging in the balance. She pulled her mobile phone out. ‘I just need to call someone,’ she said. ‘Can you keep an eye on Jack for me?’ she asked.
‘Of course I can.’ He managed a small smile.
Susan disentangled herself from Jack. ‘Wait here. I’m just going to phone Nana,’ she promised.
The rain was still lashing down. Susan pulled her hood up and made a dash for her car. She would phone Mum first, she thought. Hopefully Miranda would come and collect Jack. She didn’t like to ask her to come out in this awful weather. The rain was battering against the windscreen, gusts of wind driving flurries across the glass. On the other end of the line, the phone was ringing. Pick up, pick up, pick up.
‘Hello, love.’ Miranda’s voice was warm. ‘Have you been held up?’
Through the bleary windscreen, Susan could see the dark bulk of the fells that rose behind the clinic. A solitary lane was marked by a string of lights slanting up the hillside. ‘I’m not going to make it,’ she told her mum. ‘You remember Mr Gorski who lives across the road?’
There was a momentary pause, then Miranda’s bright voice. ‘The one with Coffee the Border Terrier? That Jack’s always talking about?’ She sounded as if she was smiling.
Thank goodness for Jack and his animal chatter, Susan thought, with relief. She wasn’t going to have to explain the whole thing. ‘Yes, that’s the one,’ she confirmed. ‘Coffee’s been taken ill. We’ve brought Mr Gorski to the vet’s but she’s probably going to have an operation.’
‘Oh … poor little thing.’ Miranda paused. Susan could imagine her mum looking at the clock or at the front door as she spoke. ‘Would you like me to come and pick up Jack so you can stay with Mr Gorski?’
Susan gave a sigh of relief. She had hoped, but had been worried about asking. ‘Would you?’ she said. Warmth rose inside her. How does Mum always know exactly what I need?
‘I’ll be there in twenty minutes,’ Miranda assured her. ‘But does that mean you’ll be missing your hot date? That’s a shame, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, isn’t it.’ Susan crossed her fingers as she replied.
‘Never mind, though, I’m sure it can be rearranged. See you soon.’ She rang off.
Susan let the hand holding her phone drop into her lap. Calling her mum had been the easy part. Now she had to let Douglas know she wasn’t going to make it. What to say? She rubbed her chin. In the distance, a pair of round headlights topped the brow of the hill and began to descend along the line of lights. The rain was easing. She had to get on with it.
She called up Messenger and began to type. She still wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell him. Should she offer a different date? She paused to think. It would be polite, but the memory of his spiky hair and loud guffaw filled her head. She had wondered how to let him down gently. They really weren’t suited. Was fate stepping in?
Quickly, she finished the message and read it back. It was short and to-the-point:
Hey Douglas, I’m afraid I can’t come tonight. Elderly neighbour’s dog needs an emergency operation, he hasn’t got anyone else to stay with him. So sorry for the late notice.
There was a good chance he wouldn’t reply. Taking a deep breath, she clicked ‘send’ and it was done.
Goodbye, Douglas. Goodbye, LoveSpark, she thought. Despite the awful situation with Coffee, she felt a little lighter as she made a dash back into the clinic.
It was lucky Miranda had come quickly, she thought an hour and a half later. Mandy had come through just after Jack had left. She’d explained that the X-rays were clear and she was going to operate. Susan had sent a quick text to her mum and got one back. They were safely home, Miranda had assured Susan. Jack was ready for bed. She would give him the news in the morning.
And now they were waiting. Susan’s eyes wandered yet again round the room, taking in the carefully grouped chairs and the plants that kept the cats and dogs apart. Mr Gorski sat beside her. His head had fallen back to rest on the window. His eyes were closed. How exhausted he looked. For a long time there had been silence, broken only by the distant barks of Bounce in the Hope Meadows kennels, but now Susan heard movement: the sound of a door opening and closing and the muffled sound of voices. The door to the waiting room opened and Mandy walked in. She looked drained, Susan thought. No wonder. It must be exhausting to tackle an emergency at the end of a full day’s work. Mr Gorski stirred, opened his eyes and sat up.
‘The operation went well,’ Mandy said, pulling one of the chairs towards her and sitting down. ‘I’m pretty sure I got the whole thing. I’ll get it sent off to the lab. I’m going to keep her in overnight.’ She gazed at them, eyebrows raised, waiting for questions.
‘Can I see her?’ Mr Gorski asked. Susan wanted to reach out and hug him. His eyes were pleading.
Mandy smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’ll take you through. She’s still very sleepy.’
Coffee was in the recovery ward. She lay on her side, eyes half closed under a fluffy blue blanket. A drip led to her foreleg, which was neatly swathed in a red bandage. Helen was standing at the open door of the kennel, stroking the rough little head.
With a cry, Mr Gorski rushed over. Helen shifted to the side to let him in. Coffee’s short tail banged on the metal kennel and she blinked her eyes, but she didn’t lift her head.
‘There are painkillers in her drip,’ Helen explained. ‘We’ll keep her on them overnight, then we can see in the morning about moving to tablets.’
Mr Gorski was stroking Coffee’s head over and over. He turned to look at Mandy and then Helen. There were tears in his eyes. ‘Thanks so much,’ he said. He let out a long, shuddering breath.
Mandy’s eyes were on Coffee. ‘We’ll keep her comfortable,’ she assured him, ‘and we’ll wait and see what the lab says and after that, we’ll have to wait and see what happens. I’ll not be in tomorrow,’ she sent the tiniest smile towards Susan, ‘but Helen’ll be here. She’ll give you an update.’
‘Thank you,’ Mr Gorski said again. With a sigh, he gave Coffee one last caress, then turned and trailed across the room. Susan followed h
im outside and helped him into the car. He seemed very much older, all of a sudden.
She drove her car right up the driveway to his front door and stopped.
‘Do you want me to come in?’ she asked. She was relieved when he shook his head.
‘Thanks for everything, Susan,’ he said, sounding exhausted as he climbed out.
She felt bone weary too. She drove back onto the road, parked the car and climbed out. She turned and paused for a moment outside the front door of Moon Cottage to look at the sky. The rain had finally cleared. The air was wonderfully fresh after hours in the heated waiting room. She turned back, put her key in the door and shoved it open.
There was an envelope on the mat. Bending, she picked it up and turned it over. The handwriting was familiar, but for a moment she couldn’t place it. Then a cold feeling filled her chest. The mysterious man was no longer a puzzle. For a long moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off the letter. The stamp was bright and Christmassy: sickeningly inappropriate.
Scrunching up the envelope, she shoved it into her coat pocket. It had been a long night, she thought. It had been four long years since she’d heard from him. She didn’t have to deal with his letter now.
Or ever. She slammed the front door shut.
Chapter Six
Susan slept surprisingly well. She woke in the morning to the rising sun and jumped out of bed. She was halfway through making a cup of tea when she remembered the letter in her coat pocket, and for a moment she hesitated, feeling almost as if it was watching her through the fabric. But then she shook the feeling off. She wasn’t going to let it ruin her day – she was going to York with Mandy, and they were going to have fun. She washed and dressed in record time, then headed outside.
Cold air nipped at her fingers as she rushed to the car. Climbing in, she drove the short distance to Animal Ark. She’d been looking forward to this for days. York was beautiful all year round, but now it would be filled with decorations. There would be a huge tree in St Helen’s Square and festive stalls in the Shambles Market.
