by Rebecca Shaw
Goliath, out on the examination table, looked as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He was neat and smart, and a tough-looking little chap with bright, alert eyes under a mop of unruly black and tan fur, and an engaging personality that made you smile when you looked at him. He wagged his stump of a tail and looked up at Rhodri, panting, with his tiny pink tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth. A little gem, thought Rhodri as he examined him.
“Have the other animals accepted him?”
“Without a murmur. In fact, he’s boss dog.”
Surprised, Rhodri said, “He is?”
“Oh yes. It took him three days, but he made it. One growl from him and the cats, and the dogs, are putty in his paws. He sleeps in whichever one of their beds he chooses, and it’s a different one every night. When I feed them, he chooses whose dinner he eats. He’s a rascal.”
“I think you have a dominant-dog problem here. Before you know where you are, he’ll be dictating to you. But…to be a successful dog owner, you, Miranda, have to be the leader of the pack, like it is in the wild, where the leader stands no nonsense.”
“But I am.”
“Not according to this little chap. He’s mastered the animals, and you’ll be the next. That’s what this messing all over the place is, a way of dominating you. Next he’ll be biting you if you don’t please him, just as the leader of a pack of dogs would do, and you don’t want that.”
“You think so? But look at him—he’s so sweet.”
“And he knows it. He might be a toy dog on the outside, but in his head he thinks he’s Hitler.”
“What shall I do?” Miranda looked at Rhodri as though he were the high priest of dog psychology.
“You’ve a battle on your hands. A long one too. But in everything, you must have the upper hand. What you say he must do, he must, whether or not he likes it. If you say ‘Come,’ don’t let him off if he defies you, even though he looks so sweet. Which he does.” Rhodri was scratching him behind his ears and Goliath was loving it. “Try doing dog training with him, at a class if you’re not sure what to do. You’ve got to get the upper hand. I’ve examined him and short of taking an X-ray, I can’t find anything the matter with him. Try my plan. If you’re not succeeding in the least little bit, bring him in and we’ll have another look. But I’m almost certain, from what you’ve told me, it’s a psychological and not a physical problem.”
“Thank you. Well, I’ll have to work at it, won’t I?”
Rhodri invitingly opened the wire front of the basket and patted the blanket inside. He tried out his command voice. “Come along, Goliath, in your basket.”
Goliath eyed Rhodri eyeball to eyeball as though sizing him up, made the decision that it suited him to allow Rhodri the upper hand, and meekly trotted into the basket and sat down.
“Oh! Look at that. He knows you’ve tumbled to him. Bless. Isn’t he sweet?”
“He won’t be if you don’t master him. It’s all for his own good in the end. He’ll be a much nicer dog for you to live with.”
Miranda gazed at Rhodri, full of admiration. “You’re so wonderfully wise. What I would do without you I don’t know. Thank you.”
Her appreciation of his skills went some way to salve Rhodri’s wounds, but not entirely, for the wounds were deep. He really rather felt as though everyone in the world was successful in anything they attemped. Look at Kate: Missed out on vet college and here she was now with a place ready and waiting. Dan, Dan, damn and blast him, gets his wife back, plus a baby; and not only that, but Colin, stick-in-the-mud-wife-battered Colin, finds himself about to become a father. What had he got? A house and a ferret. Much as he loved Harry Ferret, he had gone lower down in his priorities than Rhodri had ever imagined possible. As for Old Man Jones…if he died tomorrow, he, Rhodri Hughes, would be more than capable of dancing on his grave. As he finished completing Goliath Costello’s record, Rhodri decided that action had to be taken. He’d work out a plan and ring first thing tomorrow. She wouldn’t be able to refuse.
Chapter
• 8 •
Rhodri rang Megan when he knew she’d be having breakfast in that vast farmhouse kitchen of hers. She answered after the second ring, her voice weary and resigned.
“Beulah Bank Farm.”
Eager to tell her his plans and full of love for her, he said brightly, “It’s me, my darling. Good morning.”
“It’s you. I’m so tired. I’ve had a terrible time with Da. Up and down all night.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, so sorry.”
“It does no good to answer him back, you know. I’ve learned that over the years.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I think it best if we don’t see each other, for a week or two, till it all blows over.”
Rhodri met this reply with complete silence, unable to believe what he’d heard.
“Are you still there, Rhodri?”
“Yes.”
“It’s for the best.” He heard a break in her voice as she spoke. “I’m sorry, Rhodri, but I can’t take any more.”
“But I was just going to say that—”
“No, my love…we’ll just play it cool for a while. OK?”
“Cool? For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
“Please, Megan, you need—”
“I need time for Da. That’s all. Just for a while.”
But there was a finality in her voice that angered Rhodri. “You’re not meaning to throw away everything we have, are you?”
Megan hesitated. “No.”
“I love you. You love me.”
“We can’t have everything in this life. I’m going to put down the phone; that’s Da calling.”
“He can wait a moment. Look! I’ve got a plan—”
“’Bye, Rhodri.”
He knew from the tone of her voice that she was starting to cry. Damn that bloody old man. How dare he ruin Megan’s life because he wanted to be looked after. How dare he? What human being had the right? Mr. Jones apparently. Rhodri was burning up inside with love for Megan. He wanted so desperately to give her a life, but after all his resolutions of the night before about taking action, fait accompli and all that, he was exactly where he was, and always would be, for the rest of his life.
Rhodri recalled Mr. Jones’s trying to strike him. He’d only missed because his own reactions had been sharpened by learning to move quick sharp when he was treating animals who didn’t take kindly to even the slightest degree of interference. A bitterness formed in Rhodri’s soul, a hard core of bitterness, and what was worse, anger at Megan. How could she reject him? He thought about that night they’d made love. The supreme joy he’d felt bounding through him as they’d lain in each other’s arms afterward. She’d reached his innermost soul that night. Didn’t it mean anything to her now? Who was it who had made loving a sin?
That triumphant old man.
RHODRI arrived at the practice that morning nothing like the person who, only a few short days ago, had been so full of happiness and with a spring in his step. He felt desolate and even considered giving in his notice. Small animal practices were always looking for staff. He’d have no problem getting another job. No, he would not. He opened his consulting room door and called out the name of his first client.
Kate called out, “They’ve not arrived yet, Rhodri. You can relax.”
Rhodri nodded and went back into his room thinking he’d open his mail while he waited. But Kate came in. “In fact, the first two of your appointments are going to be late.”
On the spur of the moment, Rhodri said, “Doing anything imperative at lunchtime?”
“Not specially.”
“Come out for lunch with me?”
“OK. That will be nice. Thanks. Where shall we go?”
“Not much time—can’t get as far as the mall, so shall we say the new snack bar down the road? Food’s good, I’m told.”
“That’s lovely. See you at one in reception. Fi
ngers crossed I don’t get held up.”
Kate told Joy about her lunch invitation, and Joy said, “Good idea. That’s nice of you. He does seem down in the dumps; it’ll do him good.”
“I think it’s Megan. Her father still won’t agree to their getting married.”
“Frightened, I expect.”
Kate looked at Joy and asked her what he had to be frightened about.
“See it from his point of view. Megan marries, they want a home of their own, children perhaps—who looks after him, I ask?”
“Ah! Yes, of course. I see what you mean.”
But Kate got a different view of Mr. Jones when she talked to Rhodri over lunch.
Kate sat back in amazement. “Hit you? Whatever for?”
“Because I stood up to him and told him there was nothing on earth to stop Megan and me getting married except him. I told him good and proper how selfish he was.” Rhodri peered glumly into his vegetable broth as though searching for something reprehensible in it. He tore another lump of bread from his roll, smeared a small splodge of butter on it and devoured it as though it were his last bite.
He briefly related the events of that terrible evening, and Kate, realizing his desperation, said as kindly as she could, “My advice is to let it cool off for a few days like she said. It must be exhausting getting up time and again during the night; she’s bound to feel defeated this morning. See it from her point of view: She can’t walk out on him, can she? Be honest.”
Rhodri envisaged those gnarled hands of his, with their stiff knobbly joints and twisted fingers, struggling to prepare a meal; and in that gentle, sentimental, Welsh heart of his, he had to admit Kate was right.
“Well, then. You’ve to win him over, haven’t you? Megan you’ve already got in the palm of your hand, but him…you’ve really gone and done it as far as he’s concerned.”
Rhodri looked up to find himself staring straight at Dan’s back. “Oh, blast! Not him. Don’t look around.”
“Who is it?”
“Wonder boy Dan.”
Kate whispered, “Rhodri! We can’t pretend we don’t know he’s here, in a place this size.”
She glanced over her shoulder, caught Dan’s eye and beckoned to him, patting the table invitingly and smiling at him. He came across with his tray and noticed they’d all chosen the same thing from the menu. “Great minds think alike! Is it good, then?”
Kate nodded. “It is. Very nice. Best thing on the menu.”
“That’s what I thought. Do you mind if I join you, Rhodri?”
Rhodri looked up, “There’s nowhere else at this time of day. Sit down.” He felt cheated; Kate was a good listener and he’d just got into his stride, and now the opportunity was lost.
Dan began on his soup. Kate continued with hers. Rhodri watched Dan spooning in the soup as fast as he could. “Hungry then, are you?”
“Been up at Tad Porter’s; it might be summer but by heck was it cold. And windy. Rain spitting in the wind, you know. They’d even had a slight frost last night. It puts an edge on one’s appetite, believe me. ’Spect it must be the same at Beulah Bank Farm, isn’t it, Rhodri?”
Rhodri didn’t reply. So Kate said, “In more ways than one!” Meaning the atmosphere in the house as well as out. Rhodri gave her a warning glance, which Dan intercepted. “You’re not flavor of the month then with Old Man Jones?”
Still Rhodri didn’t reply. Kate said, “You could say so.”
“I was up there the other day; he’s a sick man.”
Rhodri grunted. “Less sick than he makes out.”
“Come on, Rhod, he is a sick man, only a fool would say he wasn’t.”
Rhodri rose to his feet, his face like thunder, “I know what I’m talking about. He puts it on to keep Megan chained to his side. When he chooses, he can get out of his chair just like that,” Rhodri snapped his fingers, “but he insists that Megan or I, when I’m there, help him up. He’s a malevolent, embittered old fraud.” Rhodri picked up his mug of coffee, downed the whole lot, and stormed out.
Dan half rose from his chair but changed his mind. “I’ve stepped on his toes and not half. Sorry. Didn’t know things were so bad.”
“He stood up to him the other night, and they had a frightful row.”
“That’s not the way to go about it.”
“It’s difficult when you’re in love like he is. What riles Rhodri is that her father orders Megan about as though she were his slave. I feel sorry for her.”
“Mmm. I’m up there on Thursday for routine TB testing. Perhaps I’ll see what I can do.”
“For heaven’s sake, don’t make things any worse. He worships Megan.”
Dan thought for a while. “It is a problem, isn’t it? Three people locked in without a solution. But I don’t like to see people, especially thoroughly good people, letting the years pass by when they could be so much happier than they are.”
“You do rub him the wrong way.”
Dan turned to look at her. “What have I said just now that could possibly have annoyed him?” He raised his eyebrows to emphasize his point.
“Pointing out how sick Mr. Jones is. Crikey! Look at the time. Joy will be giving me the sack.” She began putting on her cardigan.
“I doubt it. Finish your coffee and we’ll saunter in together. I’ll make your excuses.”
“What makes you think you can win Joy over about anything? She’s really annoyed with you about going to Bridge Farm when she said you shouldn’t.”
They did, however, saunter back to the practice and wandered in without any trouble because Joy was in Mungo’s office talking about Rhodri.
“Joy! I heard him being quite abrupt with a client yesterday. It won’t do. They don’t come here to be chastised.”
“Sometimes they blinking well need it.”
“They may do. Heaven alone knows I’ve had a few of those myself over the years, but from their point of view they are willing to pay for advice and treatment, but not, and I repeat, not, to be told off.”
“What do we do then? Bop Old Man Jones over the head and get an immediate solution?”
Mungo grinned. “Well, if it has to be done, I’ll gladly—”
“Seriously, Mungo.”
“I don’t know. We’ve all had ups and downs in our private lives, but it shouldn’t be allowed to interfere with one’s professional life.”
Joy got to her feet. “I agree. I’ll have a word.” As she came out of Mungo’s office she caught sight of Dan talking to Kate. She pointedly looked at her watch and said, “Could you be gracious enough, Dan, to get back to work, or is that asking too much?”
“On my way, Joy, on my way.” Dan gave her a cheerful wave and headed for the car park.
To Kate she said, “You set off with Rhodri and came back with Dan?”
“Rhodri lost his temper with us and walked out.”
“I see. Right. That’s it.” Joy marched off toward Rhodri’s consulting room, the light of battle in her eye. But he wasn’t there. Eventually she found him sitting in his car. She opened the front passenger door and got in. She seemed to be doing a lot of counseling just recently sitting in cars.
“This won’t do.”
Rhodri glanced at her and gave her a fright; he looked as though he were in hell. Joy cleared her throat while she decided what to say next. After a moment’s pause she said softly, “No problem is unsolvable, you know. There must be an answer somewhere.”
“Tell me. If I stand up to him, he has an attack and makes Megan ill with worry and attending to him. If in his eyes I behave myself, then he claims a victory. He’d treat a dog better than he treats me.”
“He’s frightened.”
Wryly Rhodri answered, “Is he? I don’t think so.”
“Oh, he is! Frightened of losing his place in the world and sinking into a kind of wheelchair mentality. Are you not going up there at the moment?”
Rhodri shook his head. “No. Megan asked me not to.”
�
��I think, despite your better judgment, you’d better grovel. Really grovel to him, just to get yourself back in his good books, so you can at least see Megan.”
“Mmm.”
“You see, Mungo heard you being a bit brutal with a client the other day, and as he rightly says, they don’t pay to get told off. It’s not like you, Rhodri. What were his exact words? Oh yes: ‘You mustn’t let your private life interfere with your professional one.’”
“Right.”
“Which you are doing now. Sitting here brooding when you should be in your consulting room ready for clients.” Joy patted his leg. “Now come on. Inside. Please. With a smile on your face. You love your job really, you know.”
Rhodri made to get out, changed his mind and then changed it again, and finally stood out on the tarmac. He waited until Joy had got out, then locked up the car and marched toward the back door. Joy caught up with him, and as she drew level, he said, “Have you ever been hopelessly…in love with someone and can’t see a way out?”
“Oh yes. It’s very painful.”
Rhodri looked at her and said, “Of course, I’d forgotten. Sorry.” He pushed open the back door and let her through first. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment because it was the first time ever she’d had confirmation that the staff knew about her love for Mungo. How humiliating! It was enough to destroy her love for him instantly. The pain in her chest that had come when she’d realized Duncan had gone on a serious walkabout grew worse by the day. Mungo had never spoken a truer word than when he’d mentioned the ups and downs of one’s private life. Well, so far so good, she hadn’t let it slip that Duncan was missing, so she wasn’t letting it affect her professional life. She went to her office, leaving the door open so she could hear Rhodri calling the name of his first patient. Ah! There it was. “Paddy Tattersall.” New client, thought Joy. Thumping great dog, thought Rhodri.
Paddy was a gigantic Irish wolfhound. A vast, grizzled, gray creature with the softest, kindest, most appealing eyes any dog could hope to have. Rhodri didn’t think he’d ever seen such a huge dog. In fact he would be better described as a pony. He was so tall he could rest his chin on the examination table, and when he wagged his tail, the papers on the desk were swept to the floor. His diminutive owner said firmly, “Paddy! Sit!” So Paddy sat. “Open your mouth!” So Paddy did. “Bad tooth, I think. Look, down there. At the back, this side.” Mr. Tattersall poked a finger down inside the cavern that was Paddy’s mouth. “Broke a piece off chewing on a stone a while back, and sure there he is with a bad tooth.”
