Leo looks like a nervous wreck. The weight has just fallen off her since Pete’s been ill and her familiar sparkle has all but disappeared.
‘Thank you Lou. And I mean it. That was an inspired idea. He’ll be okay now.’ She makes as if to go to join them, but I catch her arm.
‘Leave them for a bit,’ I say. ‘This might be good for both of them.’
Leo stands beside me and we watch them.
‘I didn’t know you were in contact with Arian,’ she says at last.
‘I wasn’t,’ I tell her, ‘but Karina kicked him out and he wanted us to give it another try. That was last weekend. We went on one date, and he told me about all his troubles with Karina. I ended up giving him marriage advice. Me of all people! As far I know they’re back together now, though I haven’t actually asked...’
‘You what?’ Leonie turns huge dark eyes to stare incredulously at me.
‘You wouldn’t believe the half of it,’ I tell her. ‘How didn’t I know how crap he was? Pregnant girlfriend and somehow he holds it against her. Truly.’
‘You’re extraordinary,’ she tells me with astonishment.
But I know I’m not. ‘Do you know, this is the first time in months that I feel anything remotely positive towards that man?’ I say, feeling something curiously akin to affection as I watch Arian cajoling a smile out of Pete. There’s a male bonding ritual going on out there. I doubt that either of them is saying anything particularly intelligent, but at least they’re communicating. They’ve lost time to make up. They’ve been friends for twenty years, far too long not to get over their differences.
‘Shall we put the kettle on?’ I suggest. A nice hot cup of tea would be good for all of us right now, especially Pete, with all that surplus alcohol buzzing around his veins.
We take a tray of mugs outside to join them. Poor Pete is looking embarrassed, but more sober than earlier and definitely in control again.
And strangest of all, it’s almost like old times as we sit there together.
‘I’ve told Pete we need to spend more time together,’ Arian tells Leo. ‘I’m not away much at the moment, even with frauds like you off sick,’ he ribs Pete. ‘So there’s no reason not to, is there.’
Oh my golly gosh. Arian’s actually thinking of someone other than Arian for a change. Maybe there’s a shred of decency in there after all.
We walk out together. To our separate cars.
‘Thank you,’ I say to him. ‘For coming over so quickly.’ I give him a kiss on the cheek.
‘I can’t believe I didn’t know what’s been going on.’ he mutters, looking guilty. ‘I wish someone had told me.’
‘Problem is, Arian, you’ve been too wrapped up in yourself by half,’ I say, maybe a little too honestly. ‘When was the last time you called Pete and went for a beer with him? You’ve been so self-obsessed, that you’ve cut yourself off from the best friend you’ve ever had. Please make sure you do phone him. Believe it or not, he needs you.’
Brutal – but true. With that, I get in my car and drive off up the road. When I glance in the driving mirror, Arian’s still standing there with his mouth open.
20
I’ve long finished all that confounded filing that Agnes gave me. I found out some interesting snippets though. When I came across the volumes that comprised the Amberley Stud, I skimmed through them and found Karina Williamson owned a black stallion. Maybe still does. Ha! So Arian hasn’t escaped the dreaded horse habit at all. Karina’s probably as potty about horses as I am. She’d have to be, brought up in a place like that. We’d probably be quite good friends in different circumstances.
Marcus has returned, but he’s super-busy and other than when he whirls into the office, I’ve hardly seen him. I’m beginning to think he’s avoiding me. Hmmm….I’ll have to formulate a plan. This can’t go on. We were getting on so well until Arian stepped in and ruined it. Correction. Until I let Arian step in and ruin it.
And I’ve a sneaky suspicion that Emma’s up to her old tricks. Only much more furtively than before. She’s set her mobile to vibrate for one thing, so only she knows when there’s an update and she’s more disciplined about how frequently she answers them. But I’m watching. And she knows I am.
Life has gone relatively quiet, as a result of which I’m on my guard, waiting for the next problem to materialise on my doorstep. But for once, none does, thank goodness. Pete is slowly on the up, Arian has kept away, which is very good news, but so has Marcus which is not so good. On the plus side, I have more time with my adored horse.
Summer’s most definitely over and the woods have taken on a distinctly autumnal look. The colours are incredible this year. Rich russets and golds, all the more vibrant after the heat of recent months. It’s October, but still quite warm and a perfect temperature for riding. Now that his hoof has healed, Horace loves cantering through the fallen leaves along the bridlepaths. I’ve cleared out his stable too, ready for when the weather turns. My precious horse won’t be slumming it out in the mud all winter. Oh no. He’ll be cocooned in layers of cosy rugs, with a big haynet of the sweetest meadow hay and up to his knees in straw. It’s all there now, ready and waiting for him. Nothing’s too good for my beloved Horace.
Later that week, at the end of the day, I go to remove my dog from its stable and come face to face with Marcus, who has obviously miscalculated because no way can he avoid me this time. But as his brown eyes meet mine, I notice how strained he looks.
‘Hi,’ he says, and just stands in front of me.
‘How are you?’ I ask brightly. ‘I haven’t seen you for weeks. Well, you know, not properly…’
‘Um, I’m okay,’ he says. ‘Fine actually.’
Fine. That word. I snort. He looks surprised.
‘Well, I am,’ he says, a touch defensively. ‘How’s it going with your ex-husband?’
‘Um.’ I think. How exactly do I put this. ‘Well, he took me out for dinner, and I suppose you could say I helped him to see the light about Karina.’
‘Oh.’ Marcus looks downcast. ‘Well, I wish you well Lou. You really deserve to be happy.’ And he turns to go to his car.
‘We’re not back together,’ I say to his retreating back. Sod it. Why do I care what Marcus thinks anyway. I bend down to clip Elmer’s lead on her collar.
But when I stand up, he’s still there, looking quizzical.
‘What I meant,’ I say slowly, because he’s being a bit thick here – I think it’s a man thing. ‘Is that I made him see that he shouldn’t be running out on Karina. Helped him see her point of view, I suppose you could say.’
‘You did?’ Marcus looks incredulous. I can see he’s having trouble grasping this one.
‘Well, just because she has morning sickness, because she’s pregnant with his child, and is miserable because she can’t go and fly her big aeroplanes, doesn’t really give him reason to walk out on her, does it?’ I say heatedly.
Marcus is looking at me as though I’m mad. Then he runs his fingers through his hair and says, ’Look, shall we go for a drink sometime and you can tell me about it? Properly? Like maybe tomorrow night? If you’re free?’
‘Okay,’ I say cautiously. I know he’s a vet, but I’m seriously wondering about Marcus’s cognitive abilities. He’s mighty slow on the uptake where relationships are concerned.
So on Saturday night, I’m feeling a strong sense of déjà vu because haven’t I been here before? Getting smartened up for a date with Marcus, only the last time, it all went desperately wrong.
Arian’s fault? Actually, all mine.
Marcus is looking very gorgeous, in faded jeans and a check shirt. He’s tanned and he smells nice too. He’s obviously made an effort - for me?
There’s no kiss hello. In fact, he’s still a bit cagey. He drives us to another hidden-away country pub I’ve never been to before, and this time, orders a warm, oaky shiraz, which we sip at a small table outside.
‘You know, I still don’t really understan
d what you were telling me about your ex,’ he eventually says, as I knew full well he would.
Duh...
‘There’s not much more to tell,’ I say. ‘You know I’d decided that because Arian and I were legally still married, I felt obligated to at least attempt to give him a second chance. Even if only so I didn’t regret it in the future,’ I add, thinking of my conversation with Agnes, all those weeks ago.
‘We went on a date. Just the one, as it turns out. I don’t think he ever really wanted to get back with me – not for the right reasons. I think what he needed was somewhere to stay, which he certainly didn’t find with me,’ I add hastily seeing the look on Marcus’s face. ‘So I asked him about Karina. And then it transpired that he was being completely useless and not thinking at all about what she was going through. I made him think, I suppose and when the penny dropped, he couldn’t get away fast enough.’
‘Oh,’ Marcus looks nonplussed. ‘So were you okay after that?’
I look at him impatiently. He just doesn’t get it, does he. ‘I told you ages ago Marcus, that I don’t have any lovey dovey feelings towards Arian. At All. Okay?’ My voice is rising in exasperation. ‘He’s history. I’ve filed for divorce, on grounds of adultery. Can we talk about something else, please?’
My failed marriage and failed attempt at resurrecting it aren’t my proudest moments. They’ve happened and they’re part of who I am, but it’s time to move on.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Somehow I thought you still had feelings for him. It wasn’t making sense after what he did to you. And I didn’t want to get in the way.’ But yet again, Marcus has killed the mood. We don’t have much to say after that. After finishing our drinks, he drops me home.
I’m not sure what it is with Marcus. And just as our friendship was drifting into something more romantic. After all, when he thought I was unhappy, he was the epitome of kind and caring. But he doesn’t seem to believe what I’m telling him, that Arian belongs firmly in my past.
I’m not really up to any more complicated relationships. Right now I don’t need them. I have good friends, okay, even if one does have a screwed up husband and the other a horoscope habit. Not to mention an ex-husband who I’m counselling about the girlfriend he left me for. There you go. So I certainly don’t need anyone else with problems at the moment. It would be nice, I fantasise, to go out with a straightforward man, who isn’t remotely screwed up and have some nice, straightforward fun. Nice, straightforward sex too. Now there’s a thought... Well, it’s okay to dream isn’t it? For a short while I’d imagined that such a possibility existed with Marcus. Seemingly that’s not the case. Of course, it doesn’t even occur to me that he might have issues of his own.
21
I am now officially sworn off men. Probably not for good, but at least for a very long time. I invited both Leonie and Emma over last night, as witnesses and as I told them both, after all that to-do with Arian that he blew sky high out of the water and the nearly-something with Marcus that he insisted on mucking up, it’s too late for the pair of them. I am now off limits.
Emma just snorted disbelievingly at me and Leo got the giggles. I was most disappointed with both of them. Not much of a show of solidarity is it, when the friends you’ve been bolstering up over the last few months fall over with hilarity the minute you ask for their understanding.
So I left them too it and went outside to talk to Horace, who was much more sympathetic. Eventually they came out and apologised, but I could tell they didn’t really mean it.
And here we are again. Another Monday morning and a brand spanking new resolution, because I’m going to be extremely brisk and efficient in my dealings with Marcus from now on. I’m not falling for the ’understanding male’ act that he nearly sucked me in with. He’s clearly not that understanding at all.
I’ve dressed accordingly too. Tailored black trousers which are very smart and not at all suitable for mucking out, but today I don’t care. My hair is pinned back in a French pleat. I look extremely business-like and more than a little Miss Moneypenny. Marcus does a double take when he sees me, which this morning I completely ignore. I let Agnes give him his list of calls and busy myself with putting an order together for all the drugs and other stuff that everyone gets through so much of.
But by lunchtime, I’m worrying about Agnes. She’s been very quiet and didn’t even comment on my unusual (for me) attire. Her face is pale too - not just pale, but kind of drawn, as if she’s in pain. So for once, our roles are reversed and I’m keeping an eye on her. When I get a chance, I’m going to have a word with her.
Then I rapidly change my mind. I’m not waiting. She’s doubled over, and looks dreadful.
‘Agnes? Are you okay?’
A small moan comes from her. Clearly she’s not. ‘Agnes?’
The her eyes half close, as though she’s about to pass out. ‘Agnes?’
She doesn’t answer. Then I realise. No-one else is around. It’s just me and all I know is Agnes is a tough old boot. I’ve never known her have as much as a headache in all the time I’ve worked here, which means something’s seriously wrong.
I grab the phone.
‘Hello? Ambulance please... Yes. It’s the lady I work with. She’s collapsed. No. No health problems I’m aware of. Look, please can you hurry? She’s really ill. Oh, yes, the address…’
It feels like an eternity as we wait, though by now, Agnes is out of it, hardly moving. Her eyelids fluttered shut a few minutes ago and the only sound she utters is the occasional faint moan. I’m letting the calls for the vets go to answerphone, because there’s a full-blown human emergency that needs me more.
I want to move her, though I’m not sure where to. But I can’t and then, oh dear, she sounds like she’s about to throw up. In the nick of time, she stirs and I place the wastepaper bin in front of her. Not a moment too soon.
When they get here, the ambulance men are jolly amazing. So nice and friendly and unbelievingly efficient - just like Marcus. They check her over, then within minutes she’s on a stretcher and being lifted into the ambulance. I want to go with her but obviously I can’t. Agnes makes this whole practice happen. It’s not going to be at all the same, but without her here, the realisation suddenly hits home that everything’s down to me.
Once the ambulance has left, I slump onto a chair and think for a moment. Who I should tell. And of course, the first person to call is Beamish. Not just as her employer, either. His phone rings for ages and when he answers, he sounds very relaxed, his voice positively soporific until I explain.
‘Beamish? Are you sure you can hear me okay? Only you sound miles away. Did you get that? About Agnes? She’s been rushed to hospital in an ambulance... Yes... Winchester General. Sorry? Did you say you’re going straight there? Thank God. Please can you let me know what’s happening the minute you get there?’
I put the phone down. I have his mobile number and I know where Agnes has been taken. One way or another, I’ll keep tabs on whatever’s going on.
Suddenly I remember that Agnes has a daughter. I don’t even know her name. And then shame rushes over me as I think I’ve worked with this wonderful person for two whole years. She’s held my hand through my marriage break up and I’ve never even asked her about her daughter.
But now isn’t the time to dwell on it. I have to try and do all the stuff that Agnes so effortlessly does, day in day out, no matter what.
It’s not long before Miles calls in, wanting Agnes to order specific drugs for a complicated case he’s treating. He’s shocked when I tell him what’s happened. Then he gives me the list and asks if it’s okay if I sort it out. Of course it is. Surely it can’t be that difficult.
Oh bloody hell. It’s not that it’s complicated, it’s just that I don’t how Agnes does these things. It takes me hours to get to grips with her computer. In the end, Sam comes to help me. Between us, we work out what we need to do, but it’s about 10pm by the time everything is done. In the meantime, Mrs Boggle
comes in and when we tell her what’s happened, she sighs heavily. She loves a bit of drama, especially something like this. Then surprisingly, she tells us about Agnes’s daughter, who’s called Rachel, but even she doesn’t have her phone number. Much more sighing than usual goes on, no doubt in sympathy with Agnes.
Elmer is very pissed off when I go and get her from her stable. It looks as though she’d resigned herself to spending the night.
I’m exhausted when I get home. It’s beans on toast for both me and Elmer, I give Horace a few carrots and then fall in to bed. I’ll need to get up earlier than usual tomorrow, otherwise I’ll be behind before I’ve even started.
22
I get to work at seven, filled with determination to make Agnes proud of me. I will keep everything ticking over as usual in that office if it kills me. But oh my gosh, there is so much to do.
First I look at the diary. Is this what faces Agnes every morning? There’s a list of calls as long as your arm, and somehow I have to assign them to each vet. .
Okay. I take a deep breath. I know some of these. The rest I’ll have to look up. Then I group them geographically, and then try to consider which ones will take the most time. By the time the vets pitch up at a quarter to eight, there’s a shambolic sort of list awaiting each of them.
After reading through with much raisings of eyebrows, they go on their way, more quietly than usual. No-one’s even questioned me! It’s only when they’ve all gone, that I realise that I haven’t taken any notice whatsoever of Marcus. In fact I was so preoccupied, I barely even registered he was there.
Actually, in a funny sort of way, I’m enjoying the challenge. So far, I’ve managed to keep on top of everything, and though I’m working much longer hours, it’s good to know I can do this. I miss Agnes terribly though and I’m going to see her tonight, after work.
The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man Page 12