‘I’d love to.’ Dad followed me to the barn. ‘You look shattered,’ he said as I unlocked the door, his voice full of concern.
I felt it. Although I’d had no more dizzy spells, my head had been pounding all day and a couple of doses of paracetamol hadn’t touched it. My stomach felt like it was on a permanent spin cycle and I was off my food yet again.
‘I am,’ I admitted. ‘I’ve been awake since two thanks to our visiting artists.’
‘Do you think you might have returned to work too soon?’ he asked as we stepped into the barn.
I tried hard to sound convincing. ‘No. I’ll admit that last week was tiring but I got some rest over the weekend and I’d have been fine if I’d got a full night’s sleep last night.’ I filled the kettle in the kitchen area and put it on to boil.
‘I thought the Grimes boys had been sentenced.’
‘They’ve definitely been charged but I don’t know if sentencing has actually happened. Nobody’s ever confirmed that so they’re either still at large or they’ve sent someone else to do their dirty work. Who else would call me a gold digger?’
‘I’m worried about you, Sammie,’ he said softly. ‘Especially when Josh is on call and you’re here alone.’
I gave him what I hoped looked like a confident smile. ‘It’s a bit of pointless vandalism. Everything will be fine.’
‘If you’re ever here on your own and you’re scared or worried, you must call me, no matter how late it is. I can be here in under twenty minutes.’
‘Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it. Hedgehogs?’
Rich and Dave arrived shortly after six and, after hugs and a quick catch-up, the pair of them set to work scrubbing off the graffiti, insisting on Dad staying in the barn to help me.
The extra pair of hands were very welcome, especially as I felt like everything was taking me twice as long as normal to do at the moment. At first I thought I was subconsciously moving more slowly to avoid bringing on any further dizzy spells but then it struck me that I couldn’t move quickly even if I wanted to. I felt like I was constantly in a dream-like state, wading against the tide, clumsy, cumbersome. My writing was messy, my fingers were heavy-handed on my laptop or phone, and I’d developed a severe case of butterfingers so had to concentrate extra hard.
When I heard a car pull into the farmyard twenty minutes later, I assumed it would be Josh returning from work but Rich poked his head through the barn door. ‘More patients for you,’ he said.
‘Be right there.’
Dad followed me out of the barn. Rich, Dave, a man and two young boys dressed in cub scout uniforms were crowded round the boot of a car.
‘Hi, I’m Samantha,’ I said as I approached the vehicle. ‘What have we got here?
The man turned round and I did a double-take. Wearing a scouting leader uniform, he looked like an older, slimmer version of Dave but with greying rather than dark hair.
‘Are you two related?' I asked, looking from one to the other.
‘Yes. I’m Alex Williams.’ The man thrust out his hand and shook mine enthusiastically. ‘I’m Dave’s uncle. And what we have here are some baby hedgehogs.’
‘Granddad! They’re called hoglets,’ declared the older of the boys.
‘You made that up,’ the younger one said, giving him a shove.
‘Oscar!’ Alex scolded, gently. ‘We don’t shove people. What do you say to Charlie?’
‘Sorry, Charlie.’ He looked up at me, eyes wide. ‘He’s wrong, isn’t he?’
I grimaced. ‘I’m afraid your brother’s right, Oscar. Baby hedgehogs are called hoglets. It’s a cute name, isn’t it?’
‘Hoglets,’ he said, giggling. ‘Hoglets, hoglets, hoglets.’
‘Can I see them please?’ I asked.
‘Mind out the way, boys,’ Dave said, leading them to one side. ‘Let the hedgehog lady look at them.’
I peered into the box in the boot. Five tiny pink hoglets were nestled among the folds of a towel. Their eyes and ears were tightly closed and a spattering of pigmented spines could be seen among a covering of white ones suggesting they were only a few days old.
‘Where did you find them?’ I asked Alex.
‘I saw them at the end of my garden last night and, when I got home from work tonight, they were still there.’ He lowered his voice. ‘There was a sixth one but it was already dead.’
‘No sign of the mum?’
He glanced towards his grandsons and kept his voice low. ‘There was a squashed hedgehog in the lane near my house. Could be coincidence but…’
I nodded. ‘Mums do sometimes abandon their litters but it’s rare so I suspect it was her. I need to get them inside, warmed up and some fluids into them. Thanks for bringing them in.’ I lifted the box out of the boot.
‘Do you need me for anything?’ Alex asked, glancing at Oscar and Charlie.
‘No.’ I turned to the boys. ‘Are you on your way to cubs?’
They both nodded.
‘You’ll have to ask the other cubs if they know what baby hedgehogs are called and impress them with your knowledge if they don’t know.’
I’d tried to sound cheerful but this wasn’t good. If the hoglets had been without their mum for at least twenty-four hours at such a young age, it was incredible that only one had already died. I had to be a realist about this. The odds were stacked against them and if one of the five made it, it would be a miracle. They were early too. June was usually babies’ month but March had been unseasonably warm this year, possibly putting a premature end to hibernation and bringing forward mating season.
As soon as Alex set off, I enlisted Rich and Dave’s help and, five minutes later, had heat pads plugged in covered with small fleecy blankets. The four of us massaged the five hoglets – one each with Dad working on the two slightly larger ones.
‘They desperately need some formula and to get rehydrated,’ I explained, ‘but they have no energy to take it at the moment so forcing it into them could actually kill them. If they were with their mum, she’d be cleaning them and shoving them around, being quite rough with them so we need to emulate that by massaging them. She’d also be licking their genitals to stimulate their bowels as they can’t go to the toilet on their own.’
‘Please tell us you’re not going to make us do that,’ Rich begged, injecting welcome light relief into the tense atmosphere.
‘I’ll let you off on that one.’ I smiled gratefully at him. ‘I’ll do the stimulating. And not by licking, I’ll just add. I would like you to do this, though.’ I lifted my hoglet towards my mouth and released my warm breath over its face. ‘If you can do a bit of alternating between breathing on them, holding them in your hands and massaging them, that’s the best we can do for now and then we’ll hopefully give them enough energy to take some formula.’ I was very conscious that Rich, as an ambulance paramedic, had some transferrable skills but nothing in Dave’s building career would have prepared him for this. I watched him closely, prepared to step in if he appeared to be struggling, but was so proud of him for throwing himself into something that had to be completely out of his comfort zone.
One of Dad’s hoglets started squeaking – a high-pitched noise like a baby bird – which meant he was hungry. I passed mine to Rich while I mixed up some special infant wildlife formula and loaded a syringe, which it would hopefully accept.
‘Hedgehog party?’ Josh asked, wandering into the barn.
‘Orphan hoglets.’ I released a drop of formula onto the mouth of the hoglet in Dad’s hands. To my relief, a tiny tongue flicked out and lapped it up.
‘How many?’ Josh asked as he washed his hands.
‘Five,’ Rich said. ‘You can take one of mine.’
‘Oh crap!’ Dave cried. ‘I think mine’s stopped breathing.’
Josh took Dave’s instead and released a long breath over it then dashed round to my side of the table and lay it on the heat pad, massaging round its heart.
‘Come on,’ he muttered. ‘You can do i
t. Fight for it.’
I swallowed hard and focused on giving Dad’s hoglet some more formula.
‘It’s back!’ Josh cried.
‘And one of mine’s squeaking for food,’ Rich said.
A feeling of euphoria surged through me and I could have cheered but we certainly weren’t out of the woods yet. It was going to be a long night.
Dad and Rich made a stir-fry for everyone and we took it in turns to go over to the farmhouse for a bowl of food. I only managed a couple of mouthfuls and they lay heavily in my stomach although I told everyone I’d eaten a full bowl. We had more important things to worry about than my lack of appetite.
Shortly after 9 p.m., the moment I’d been dreading arrived. The hoglet Dad had been working on had gradually become more and more listless. It wasn’t responding to his attempts to get it moving, it hadn’t been to the toilet and it hadn’t squeaked for formula.
My heart pounded as I watched Dad scoop it up and blow frantically on it, then massage its heart like Josh had done to Dave’s hoglet earlier, but to no avail.
With a sigh, Dad lay it down on the table. ‘Sorry, Sammie. We can’t save this one. It was too weak.’
I blinked back the tears. ‘Thanks for trying.’
A subdued silence settled on us.
‘How do you guys deal with this every day?’ Dave asked, shaking his head. ‘It’s brutal.’
‘We focus on the ones we save,’ Dad responded.
‘Same for me,’ Rich said softly.
‘Why don’t you get some fresh air for a moment?’ I suggested.
Dave nodded solemnly and left the barn.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to Rich. ‘I shouldn’t have put this on him. Will he be okay?’
Rich gave me a reassuring smile. ‘He’ll quickly bounce back and don’t feel guilty for one second. He’ll have loved being helpful but, if you could spare us in about half an hour, that might be good.’
‘Definitely.’ Five people to four hoglets was more than enough. ‘I really appreciate what you’ve both done tonight.’
Dave returned five minutes later and was eager to be hands-on straightaway but, as agreed, I suggested they head off half an hour later. Dave protested but it was obvious that the hoglet’s death had taken its toll on him. I hated that helping me out had upset my friend.
I insisted Dad go home shortly afterwards too and that Josh and I could manage two each. He reluctantly agreed, saying he’d be back in the early hours to relieve us.
About half an hour later, a text came through from Rich reassuring me that Dave was fine, that he’d found the experience ‘heartbreaking but enriching’ and that he ‘wouldn’t have missed it for the world’. I felt so much better for reading that.
‘Shift change,’ I announced to Josh, pulling my hair into a low ponytail as I made my way through the dimly lit barn at 3 a.m. ‘Any news?’
‘We’ve lost another.’
‘No!’ Tears pricked my eyes but I held them back. I could grieve for the little one later. For now, I needed to focus on the three who were still fighting for their lives and let Josh get some sleep. If he could. I’d barely managed any myself so was surprised at how wide awake I felt now – probably adrenaline. I could tell Josh was flagging, his eyes bloodshot and his lids droopy as he propped his head up with one arm.
‘Did you get much sleep?’ he asked wrapping his arms round my waist and resting his head against me as I stood beside him.
‘Some. It’s your turn now.’
He looked up at me, obvious worry etched across his face. ‘I don’t like to leave you. Not after last night.’
‘They won’t come back so soon. I’ll be fine. Go on. Besides, Dad will be back shortly.’
Josh’s lack of further protest told me how drained he actually was. It was easy to forget the toll my hospitalisation had taken on him. While I’d been in a coma for nine days, he’d spent the time flitting between work, checking on the farmhouse, treating the four hogs I’d rescued from the fire and sitting by my bedside. He likely hadn’t come close to recovering from all that lost sleep.
Dad returned about forty minutes later, looking a lot more refreshed than I felt.
‘How’s progress?’ he asked, sitting down beside me.
‘We lost another.’
‘Damn! Not unexpected, though. What a shame.’
I nodded. ‘Hardest part of the job and I don’t imagine it will get any easier.’
‘Loss is never easy but we find ways to deal with it and your Happy Hog Board is a great way of remembering all those who do make it. That release number will grow and you’ll feel so proud each time you hit a milestone but remember that hoglets are different to adults. Even one in a litter of five is one more than would have survived if you hadn’t set this place up. Every small step makes a huge difference.’
Dad always knew the right thing to say and I did cry at that point, thinking about how thrilled Thomas and Gwendoline would have been to see their dream fulfilled.
One of the hoglets started squeaking which seemed to set the other two off so we did another round of feeds.
‘I’ve named them,’ I said to Dad. ‘Luke, Leia and Solo.’
He smiled. ‘Star Wars? Let’s hope the force is strong with these ones and they make it through the night.’
The force was strong and, to my surprise and delight, all three of them were still with us when it was time to leave for work. Josh had returned to the barn shortly after 6 a.m. and the three of us rotated between hoglets, adult hedgehog patients and showers/breakfast.
There was no way the hoglets could be left alone all day so Josh took them to the veterinary practice with him. Both Josh and Dad assured me it was no problem and there were plenty of staff who’d be able to take care of them but guilt weighed heavily on me as I drove to college. Hedgehog Hollow hadn’t even been open a fortnight but we already had seventeen adult patients and three hoglets all needing differing levels of care and attention, the hoglets obviously being the most demanding. We were right at the start of an early babies’ season and I could have a steady stream of hoglets across the rest of May and June. What was going to happen with them? Dad and Josh couldn’t take them all into work. They had paying clients to attend to.
I bashed the steering wheel with the palm of my hand as I waited at a junction for a tractor to pass. ‘Stupid woman,’ I muttered. ‘Mum was right. You did not think this through.’ And I really hadn’t. For all my extensive research into hedgehogs, I had swept the biggest issue under the carpet. Time. There’d always been a niggle at the back of my mind about whether I could physically fit this in alongside a full-time day job and I’d pushed it aside, convinced it would just work out. How? How could something like this ‘just work out’?
The tractor passed and I continued driving towards Reddfield. As well as the first hoglets who needed round-the-clock attention, there’d been Katniss dumped outside the barn, severely injured, when nobody was home and the Fimberley hedgehog I couldn’t save because I was working. Josh had told me that I’d never have saved her even if I’d been living right next door to that angry woman, but it didn’t mean there wouldn’t be other incidents where I needed to respond quicker.
As we grew, there’d be more occasions where collections were needed. What if the person finding the hedgehog had no transport? What if they were too afraid to touch it or didn’t have the time to bring it to me? Or what if the hedgehog was trapped and the caller couldn’t get to it? I’d definitely need to make house visits, especially when I got set up on social media and spread the word about us being open. When rescue calls came, they’d be during the day because that’s when people were out and about and that’s when ill or injured hogs were likely to be found. And where was I during the day? In lessons with my phone switched off.
A huge yawn signalled yet another problem. I could have a couple of months of all-nighters ahead of me as we cared for hoglets. Dad and Josh would help where they could but they had to factor in bei
ng on call so I’d need to take responsibility for most of the all-night care. How was it fair on my students or on Lauren if I wasn’t at my most alert during lessons because I’d been up most of the night?
‘What about marking and lesson prep?’ I muttered. ‘Where am I going to fit all of that in?’
And what if the Grimes boys continued their hate campaign? I dreaded to think what they’d do next. I was already at breaking point.
I was normally a calm and rational person but, by the time I pulled into the car park, I felt panicky. Sweat prickled my forehead and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. I had to sit in the car and take several deep calming breaths but, even with my breathing regulated, I felt unsteady on my feet as I tentatively made my way towards the entrance. It was going to be a difficult day.
At lunchtime, I was in the department office on my own. A sandwich with a couple of nibbles out of it lay abandoned beside me and I’d moved onto a yoghurt which I was only just managing to force down, half a teaspoon at a time. My phone beeped with the text I’d been dreading:
✉︎ From Dad
Really sorry but Luke didn’t make it. Leia and Solo are feeding well. Stay strong xx
I stared numbly at my phone. Luke was the one who’d stopped breathing in Dave’s hands last night so he’d perhaps been the weaker of the three. Even with the odds stacked against them, I’d clung onto the hope that they’d all make it.
‘What are you doing hiding in here on your own?’ Lauren asked, bursting through the door. She plonked her bag on her desk then turned to face me and her smile disappeared. ‘That is not a happy face.’
‘Another of the hoglets has died.’
‘Oh no. I’m so sorry. Your dad showed me some photos of them last night. I’ve never seen the babies before.’
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