The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man

by Martyn, Susie

  Then at work the next morning, round about elevenses time, Rachel pitches up.

  ‘Hi Rachel.’ I say. ‘You looking for Marcus? Only he’s out for the rest of the day.’

  I carry on whirling around looking very busy, but out of the corner of my eye I notice that she’s frowning, and then she says, ‘Er no. Actually I wanted to see you. About Mum’s wedding.’

  Oh gosh. Stupid Louisa. I stop whirling and give her my full attention.

  ‘Isn’t it just the best news?’ I say.

  ‘Yes, it’s great,’ she says warmly. ‘And Mum was wondering if you could help us with the planning? You probably know they don’t want anything too fancy, but it’s still special. So…what do you say? Should we get together and see what we can come up with?’

  ‘Okay,’ I say, slightly cautiously. Then add, ‘Of course. I’d love to help, Rachel. If you want me to.’

  And I mean it, I’m just wondering if Marcus will be ‘helping’ too.

  Next morning, I say to Karina, ‘Isn’t it about time you gave up work? You don’t want one of the vets forced into practicing their midwifery skills on you - or do you?’

  She raises her eyebrows and looks most put out. ‘Are you trying to get rid of me Louisa?’ she says in peeved tones.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I say. ‘Of course I’m not. But that baby could appear at any time now. And shouldn’t you be putting your feet up and taking it easy?’

  Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you’re about to have a baby?

  ‘In case you haven’t noticed,’ she replies a bit testily. ‘I am actually quite useful here. I do loads of things in this office which you don’t have time to do. What will you do when I stop?’

  About the furthest I think ahead at the moment is to the end of each day and she’s absolutely right. Karina has ended up working much more than just mornings now and she’s quite right. She’s become quite useful. There’s going to be far too much for just me to do, once this baby arrives.

  ‘We’ll need to get a temp,’ I say decisively, in my best office manager voice. ‘To do mornings, like when you started.’

  Karina’s silent for a moment, then she says carefully, ‘Have you thought about asking Zac? You said yourself, he’s a whiz with computers, and I’m sure you could teach him the ropes… You taught me after all, didn’t you?’

  Golly. Zac the chav? Well, it’s certainly a thought. I can’t say I’m ecstatic about the idea, but at least if things were quiet, he could bugger off outside and hang out with Sam like he does at the moment.

  ‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘Perhaps I’ll run it by Beamish first. It might work,’ I add, not sounding convinced.

  Silly me. I just don’t learn do I? Yes, I mention to Beamish about Karina’s idea about Zac, and instantly Beamish and Zac are standing here in front of me waiting to discuss it. Just like that. As if by that magic again.

  Though I have to say that Zac doesn’t look too convinced either.

  ‘Wotcha do in ‘ere, then,’ he asks indifferently.

  Beamish clears his throat and steps in to the rescue.

  ‘This, my fine young man, is the nerve centre of our veterinary practice. And Louisa is right at the heart of it.’ He coughs and looks at me expectantly.

  Oh Golly. Am I? Then I feel a flicker of pride as I realise that actually, I am.

  ‘And your um, job, if you’d like it, would be in the um, mornings, helping with the er, organisational side of things. You know, like sending out the bills, putting everything where we can find it,’

  ‘Filing, Beamish,’ I interrupt efficiently. ‘It’s, um, actually called filing you know.’

  Beamish looks baffled for a minute. ‘Um, er, is it? Well bless me…’

  Then he carries on. ‘And what I um thought, young man, is that if you er start studying for your um, you know, Veterinary Nursing Exams, we’ll give you the time off for your course, as long as, you er, do a bit of hard work for us in return.’ He fixes twinkling eyes on Zac, who looks as though he’s been zapped with a cattle prod.

  ‘And who knows…’ Beamish is still twinkling most jovially, ‘at the end of it, there may even be a job going. So. Um. Jolly good.’

  ‘Blimey,’ says Zac incredulously. ‘Fanks Sir, really fanks. I’ll make you well proud…’

  Beamish is nodding and smiling like a proud grandfather.

  ‘I’ve no doubt you will, my boy. Now, um, run along and give er, Sam a hand, there’s a good chap.’

  Oh dear God… whatever next? We could have Mrs Boggle assisting in the operating theatre perhaps. Or maybe I could go out on calls while Beamish and Agnes go on their honeymoon, with a spare vet bag and a really big car. Hmmm. I’m beginning to wonder if Beamish is losing the plot.

  I catch up with Emma that night and fill her in about Zac.

  ‘That’s brilliant, Lou. If Beamish didn’t give him the chance, Zac would probably end up back at that ghastly housing estate, living with the evil stepfather who beats him up and who poisoned Beckham. Beamish has thrown him a lifeline. And he’s good with animals…there’s no reason why he wouldn’t make a great vet nurse.’

  I’m still thinking, that yes, it might be jolly good and all that, but it’s me who’ll have to train him in the office, as I tell her.

  ‘I’ve just trained Karina. She’s really useful and now she’s leaving,’ I moan. ‘And now I’ve got to do it all again.’

  Emma stares at me. ‘You didn’t even want Karina, remember? So presumably you won’t mind that she’s leaving. And you’ll have to train someone. So, it may as well be Zac.’

  My friend can be so unsympathetic.

  ‘How are things with Ben?’ I ask, switching the spotlight from me to her. Ha. That will fix her. But Emma’s very cool.

  ‘Good thanks. He came to see Jerome with me.’ I nearly fall off my chair.

  ‘He what?’ I splutter.

  ‘Don’t look like that, Louisa,’ she says. ‘Actually, Ben’s being most supportive, and we really are getting back on track.’

  I know he took her phone away and made her buy a new one with a new number, so none of the texted horoscopes could sort-of accidentally on purpose get through - I had to circulate the new number to everyone at work under the pretext that she’d dropped her old one down the loo.

  ‘That’s really good, Em,’ I say. ‘I’m so pleased for you… And well done for dealing with your gremlins,’ I add for good measure. ‘Shall we go and get some fish and chips?’

  Perfect timing. The chippy closes in ten minutes. It’s run by Gilda, a bohemian-looking girl who has the most admirable attitude and incredible shiny black hair, which reaches in waves all the way down to her rather ample backside. It must be a nightmare washing the deep-fried smell out every night. Her eye makeup is a piece of artwork, and I can never stop myself studying it while we wait for our fish and chips.

  The food is the exact same version that they sell in the pub, but cheaper. Plus it comes in these rather pretty boxes. But the best bit is that when it gets to closing time, she screeches out at the top of her voice, ‘Closin’…. then waits for a few seconds, then says ‘Now’, pronounced ‘Noo’. Then she slams the window shut, and sits, filing her nails which are as amazingly painted as her eyelids, as all the starving masses exit the pub having waited all evening for the cheaper version of the fish and chips. She delights in telling them that they shouldn’t be so tight and ‘it ain’t my fault loverrr, it’s yours innit,’ and how they should have got their arses over earlier on, because she has a licence and no customer ain’t worth breaking no rules over.

  Tonight we’re in good time, and she serves us without any objection, except to tell us that if we’d been any later, we’d have been shit out of luck. Emma and I go and sit across on the green, and wait to laugh at all the customers who are about to find that they are indeed ‘shit out of luck,’ as Gilda so eloquently puts it.

  I tell Emma about the exploits of Wurzel, and she giggles. ‘I had a pony that was l
ike that,’ she says. ‘It didn’t matter how many volts you rigged up to the electric fence, somehow or other he got out.’

  Which doesn’t give me a good feeling. But tonight little Wurzel stays put. Or maybe he’s much cleverer than I give him credit for and he sneaks out in the middle of the night, but comes home before I wake up. Only I know as well as everyone else – ponies aren’t that clever.

  32

  Karina’s had a brilliant idea which I should definitely have thought of first.

  ‘Why doesn’t Zac work alongside me for a few days?’ she suggests. ‘Then, when I disappear, he’ll already know some of what I’ve been doing to help you.’

  Which sounds like a jolly good idea.

  ‘And by the way, Karina, have you decided when you are finishing yet?’

  ‘Well,’ she says. ‘I thought the end of the week, if that’s okay. On Friday…’ she clarifies.

  I know when the end of the week is. Just because I’m not a pilot doesn’t mean I’m stupid.

  ‘Oh,’ I say, then ‘You teaching Zac, that’s a good idea. Thanks.’

  Miles and Beamish are having one of their little confabs in Beamish’s office. I’m straining my ears to listen, but they’re talking in low voices. It’s not at all like when they had Stella in there. That time, I could hear every word. Mind you, so could the whole of Lower Shagford.

  Oh, the door’s opening.

  ‘Leave it with me, old chap,’ Beamish is saying. ‘Um, don’t worry. Er, I’m sure we’ll think of something.’

  How mysterious. Miles looks even more down in the mouth than usual. What could it possibly be?

  ‘Er, Miles?’ I say, once Beamish has gone. Very cautiously because he is looking rather fragile, I ask, ‘Are you okay? Only you seem, well, a little…’ I’d been going to say troubled, but instead I settle for ‘well, just a little out of sorts…’

  He gives me what for Miles, passes for a smile. I give him one of my most understanding smiles in response. He’s definitely one of life’s worriers, is Miles. Takes on the cares of the world. What he needs, I’ve decided, is a thoroughly good woman to make a fuss of him and love him absolutely to bits. But if Emma is to be believed, he can never bring himself to be interested in them. Which is to say, of course he likes them, but puts so much energy into his work, there none left for anyone else. He needs to meet another vet as dedicated as he is, so they could exchange worries, shed the odd tear together, agonise over their more worrying cases…. Or maybe not. It would probably make him worse.

  Then I have this great idea. Miles needs some fun. I will enlist Emma’s help on this one and between us, we will take him out and make him laugh. Golly. Suddenly I’m stunned to realise that I’ve never, ever seen Miles laugh. Not once, which is deeply disturbing. Not laughing is like not drinking. I don’t know how anyone can possibly survive like that. It can’t be normal. And actually, I’m starting to wonder if maybe he’s yet another example of one of these jolly fine young men, forging ahead in the career of his choosing, only to reach the pinnacle and get knocked viciously off it by the black dog itself - depression. Like Pete. The very thought makes me shiver.

  Meanwhile, I have my own black dog to attend to. She may be demanding, as she is right now, howling like a wolf in the stables as she waits for a lunch time walk, but at least she doesn’t completely ruin my life.

  With Karina’s baby imminent, I decide to organise a card for everyone to sign, and buy her a present. I add it to my growing to-do list. I’ll have to go shopping after work tonight. Late night shopping somewhere after I’ve dealt with my horses. Maybe Emma will come along too.

  But Emma is cosily ensconced with Ben tonight. It seems that all is back to normal on that front. Do I dare to start thinking about my wedding outfit yet?

  So I’m on my own in Marks and Spencers, looking at the cutest little baby clothes I’ve ever seen. Kind of pretty and cuddly-looking, in the most gorgeous array of colours. There are all these little blankets, the softest you’ve ever touched, oh, and the toys. I didn’t even know there were toys for newborns.

  It’s a whole new world to me and I have to admit to the teeniest bit of envy, when I think about what lies ahead for Karina. I mean, a baby… Isn’t that the reason we’re put on this earth after all? To go forth and multiply? Maybe some of us more than others.

  Whatever happens between Karina and Arian, she’ll have her baby, to nurture and care for and give the best of herself to. She’ll be a mother. I’m not at all sure how Arian will cope with that, playing second fiddle while it’s tiny. Knowing my ex, I see trouble looming.

  I wonder if I’ll ever have children? And then I decide that actually, I will, even if I have to go and bribe some fine specimen of manhood like Will for his sperm, so that I can artificially inseminate myself. And actually, wouldn’t it be a whole lot easier to have just the children and no husband? And I can’t imagine Will would take too much bribing. It’s certainly a thought.

  I awake in the middle of the night certain that I can hear the faint clip-clop of hooves, but when I lie there listening, there’s nothing. And next morning, Wurzel’s grazing harmlessly in his paddock - but, who’s that marching up the lane? Oh. It’s Mr Jones. Not looking happy at all.

  He knocks on my door and I open it, mystified as to why he’s here.

  ‘Morning Mr Jones, how are you this morning?’ I ask brightly.

  ‘Now look ‘ere. Right sorry, miss, but it’s that dang pony out back. Its bin in my carrots again. Little bustart pulled ‘em all up by the green and ate the ’ole flaming lot.’

  And from behind his back he produces a handful of carrot tops that some creature has indeed eaten the bottoms of. Some creature, and quite a clever one at that, which has left very horse-like teeth marks behind.

  ‘But Mr Jones,’ I say soothingly. ‘It can’t possibly have been Wurzel. Look. He’s out in the paddock, just where I left him last night, though thinking about it, I woke up at some point and heard hooves. But it can’t have been Wurzel. Like I said, he’s been in that paddock all night. It must have been someone else’s horse…’

  ‘E’s that Mrs Winkle’s pony, isn’t he, God rest her,’ says Mr Jones, most disbelievingly. ‘I know ’im. E’s a regular ’oudini that one. You mark my words. It were ’im alright.’

  After Mr Jones has left, I go out to my horses. Wurzel’s little ears are pricked and he’s a picture of innocence. But wait a moment. There’s something on his headcollar. It looks ever so slightly like a bit of carrot top. I stare at Wurzel, and those unblinking brown eyes look knowingly back at mine. Just a touch too knowingly. Maybe Mr Jones was right after all and the little sod goes out for midnight jaunts, getting home before anyone’s the wiser. Mr Jones is obviously no fool. Quickly I remove the evidence and grind it into the mud.

  Karina is making fine progress with Zac. He’s razor sharp and remembers everything she tells him straight away. I had a devil of a job with her to start with, but then I suppose she had pregnancy-brain at the time. And as far as all things computer-related go, Zac is quite clearly a whiz – which gives me an idea. Seeing as he’s so chummy with Beamish, maybe he’d like to suggest to him that it’s about time our office ditched our ancient PC and moved into the twenty first century.

  Rachel is popping over tonight. We’re going to talk about the wedding. I’ve been thinking and thinking about it, and had this absolutely inspired idea. Okay, so Agnes and Beamish only want a tiny wedding, but who said anything about afterwards? I mean, no-one’s said anything at all about not having a little bit of a party…

  It’s not a nice evening when Rachel pitches up. It’s cold and raining, and sounds like it’s blowing a gale out there, which with all the curtains drawn and logs burning merrily in the fireplace, makes my cottage feel even cosier,.

  ‘Hi’ she says, when I open the door. ‘What a night!’ Even in her enormous coat, she’s still tiny.

  ‘Come in Rachel and I’ll open some wine.’

  ‘You know,
I was quite surprised, when Mum told me,’ she says. ‘I’d kind of guessed, you know, that something was going on there, but even so. Still, it’s nice isn’t it? I mean Beamish is very fond of her, isn’t he?’

  ‘Emma and I had kind-of-guessed too,’ I tell her. ‘And I agree. It’s lovely for both of them.’

  ‘So,’ says Rachel. ‘About this wedding…You know my mother has this ludicrous idea that it’s just going to be a small affair. Like me, you and everyone at work, and Beamish’s brother and sister in law. Mum has a couple of good friends she wants to invite too…’

  ‘How many is that then?’ I do a quick calculation. ‘Less than twenty isn’t it? That’s awfully small,’ I add doubtfully.

  ‘But she says that’s what they want,’ says Rachel. ‘And a party later on. But I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem quite right.’

  She’s quite right. It’s not. Beamish and Agnes are wonderful people and stacks of people absolutely love them. And it really isn’t fair to deprive all their friends of a jolly good knees up.

  ‘You know what we could do.’ I tell her the plan I hatched earlier and her eyes go like saucers. Then she grins.

  ‘It’s fab!’ she says enthusiastically. ‘Perfect! Oh Louisa, this is going to be such fun.’ Then she looks more sober. ‘We will have to keep this absolutely secret. No slip ups, not a single one. Or knowing my mother, she’ll probably run off and elope. She’s a devil to keep things from, you know.’

  Oh gosh. I’d forgotten for a split-second that Agnes always knows everything that’s going on. How do we keep something like this under wraps? If she found out, it would ruin everything.

  ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Shall we meet up at the weekend? Saturday afternoon? Come round and we’ll draw up our battle plans.’

  Will’s been flirting outrageously with Karina again. Rather too outrageously. I think he’s rather keen on the whole pregnancy thing. And she looks as though she’s loving it.