by Rebecca Shaw
He pleaded with her, “You tell her, Mia, for me. Please.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve done all that for her myself over the years, all the birds and the bees stuff and the like. But this time, Gerry, it’s you who has to stand up and be counted.” She wetted the corner of her handkerchief on her tongue and rubbed at a mark on the roof of the signal box. “Hiding in here won’t make the problem go away; and I can’t tell her, can I? I wasn’t here. Please, Gerry, explain to her.” A bush had got crushed by the accident, and she plumped it straight. “If you don’t, she could well go looking for her; and you wouldn’t like that, now would you?”
Gerry’s head came up with a jerk. “She wouldn’t, would she?”
“Why shouldn’t she? You couldn’t stop her if she did decide to.”
Gerry placed the Flying Scotsman gently back on the rails beside the platform, pressed the “go” button and off it went, with his eyes following it anxiously. “No damage done.”
Mia deliberately misunderstood him. “There will be if you don’t speak up.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll do more than think because if you don’t do it voluntarily, one day I shall broach the subject myself in front of her; and then you’ll have to tell, and you won’t be prepared and you’ll make a mess of it. I mean it.”
Gerry looked shocked. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would. And when you tell her, you tell her everything.”
“You wouldn’t go against my wishes.”
“Try me. It will be painful for me, and I know it will be very painful for you, but she has a right.”
“She hasn’t. It happened to me, not Kate; she was too young to know.”
“That’s nonsense and you know it. You’re burying your head in the sand.” Mia put an arm round his shoulders. “Kate’s made a pot of tea. Come down.”
“In a bit.”
“I love the pair of you, you know. Not just Kate. I do understand, but it has to be faced. She’s not to blame.”
Gerry finished dusting the passengers and regrouped them on the platform. Mia pointed to a dog laid on its back between the rails. “Look! The dog’s fallen on the line, the poor thing.”
“So it has.” He dusted it off and stood it beside a little girl. “When I made this little girl, I thought of her as Kate.”
“Well, unlike that girl, Kate has grown up; remember that when next you play with all this.” She waved an arm at the layout.
“Play? Play! I don’t play. I operate.”
Mia laughed. Standing at the top of the attic stairs she said, “Cup of tea ready if you want it.” From the third step she paused to add, “I meant what I said.” She went down, looking forward to a cup of tea and watching television with Kate; but Mia drank her tea alone, for Kate had gone to her room to work.
THE next day began badly for Kate. The everlasting roadworks which appeared to have been disrupting Barleybridge for the last decade had caused even more chaos than usual, in consequence of which she was fifteen minutes late for work. Gratefully she saw that Letty’s little Mini wasn’t in the car park and heaved a sigh of relief; at least that meant she wouldn’t have her wrath to face, though it also meant there’d been no one on the desk for the first fifteen minutes of the morning.
Leaping out of her car, she raced through the back door, flung off her coat and gloves, grabbed her uniform, put it on in record time and dashed into reception.
“You’re late!” Letty glanced at the clock behind her. “Fifteen minutes late. It’s not good enough when we’re shorthanded. You’ll have to work an extra fifteen before you go for lunch.”
Kate held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Fine, it’s the blessed roadworks still. One day I expect they’ll have all the new sewer pipes laid, and then I shan’t be late. It was worse than ever this morning. I thought you hadn’t come; I didn’t see your car.”
“Colin gave me a lift. Then you should take that into account and leave earlier.” Two phones began ringing at the same time. As Kate reached out to pick up the receiver of one of them, Letty said, “Hurry up! Answer it!”
When they’d both attended to the phones, she went on, “You know we leave the phones ringing no longer than three rings. You’ll have to smarten up. It’s no way to run a practice.”
Kate put up with Letty’s bullying tactics with as much patience as she could and was just reaching the end of her tolerance when Dan came in. He burst in through the door at his accustomed speed, gave a brief nod to the waiting clients and went to the reception desk. “Good morning, girls. My list please, Kate.”
“Good morning to you, Dan. Here we are. Your first call is at Applegate Farm; I don’t know what for. Sounds urgent, but then Mrs. Parsons always does make it sound as if their entire stock is about to expire the first chance they get, and—”
Letty brusquely interrupted their conversation by saying, “Might I ask, Mr. Brown, why you consider it fit to arrive to begin your day’s work one and a half hours after you are expected? And unshaven, too.”
Dan glanced at Kate and she saw a spark of anger in his eyes. She knew why he was late; he’d come straight to the practice without breakfast, having been called out to the other side of town at five past six that morning. She was going to speak in Dan’s defense before Letty put her foot in it any further, but she was too late.
Dan answered first. “And a very good morning to you too, Letty.” He turned his back to her and spoke to Kate. “Yes, you were saying?”
Letty gasped with anger. “I asked you a question. You might have the courtesy to reply.”
Patiently he faced her and said softly, “I was called out at five past six this morning to a cow with a twisted gut. I have just finished. I have had no breakfast, and I am here to start my day’s work. Do you have a problem with that?”
Letty had the grace to blush. “I see. I beg your pardon.”
“So I should think.”
Kate said, “Look, if you’ve missed your breakfast, Miriam will be only too delighted to find you cereal and toast. Let me go and ask her. If she finds out you’ve not eaten …”
“Colin has to manage without many times.”
Dan retorted, “Having you to live with, I must assume he has a stronger constitution than me. I should be most grateful, Kate, if Miriam doesn’t mind. I didn’t get a real meal last night either because I was called out; so yes, that would be great.”
“I’ll go and ask her. You can use the shower if you like.”
Dan gave a broad grin. “Do I need to?”
It was Kate’s turn to blush. “No. I thought it might make you feel better, that’s all.”
“Thank you, I will. Won’t be long. I want to get started on that list.” He gave Letty a mocking Nazi salute, clicked his heels and disappeared toward the shower room.
“That man is insolent.”
“That man is working his socks off, Mrs. Walker. I’ll leave you in charge while I get his breakfast.”
“How long have you worked here? Three months, is it?”
“About that.”
“You’ve far too much to say for yourself, far too much. I can see it’s not a moment too soon that I’ve come here to work. The whole place is falling apart. Joy needs to smarten things up. Wait till she’s in tomorrow. I’m making a list for her.”
“I’m going for Dan’s breakfast.”
Miriam was only too delighted to make breakfast for Dan. “Of course I will, the poor man. Toast and cereal. Right. Tea or coffee?”
“Well, I didn’t ask. I imagine he’s a coffee man, actually.”
Miriam got busy in the kitchen. “I do like him.”
“So do I, but I’m afraid he’s caught Mrs. Walker on the wrong foot this morning.”
“Does anyone ever do any other? Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Still, I rather imagine Dan is perfectly capable of getting the better of her. No word from Lynne?”
“Joy rang her first thing, and she’ll be b
ack next week. A cold, her mother said.”
“Mm. That came on rather suddenly. There, just the toast to wait for.” Miriam leaned against the kitchen worktop and said, “Don’t let Letty get you down. She goes at four and then I shall be in. Just sorry I’ve this dental appointment, but I daren’t miss it. Toothache, you know. Thanks for working all day. At least it means Joy gets her day off.”
The toast popped up and shot from the toaster with such vigor that both slices hit the window, just missing a plant on the sill. Miriam rescued them, gave them a brisk dusting off and wrapped them in a napkin to keep them warm for Dan. “Sorry! I keep meaning to buy a new toaster, but it’s such fun when it does that, I keep putting it off.” She smiled as she handed Kate the tray. “Take care. Say to Dan he’s welcome to breakfast any time.”
Kate felt she should warn Dan about the dreadful conditions at Applegate Farm. “It’s filthy. Absolutely filthy. You must put your boots on before you get out of the Land Rover.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because of the mud and filth.”
“No. Why is it so filthy?”
“Well, you’ve seen Phil Parsons. His farm takes after him.”
“I see.”
“Scott tried to get him to clear up, but he never did.”
“Right. Well, I won’t tolerate it. I shall certainly have a word. The animals must take priority. It’s sheer idleness leaving a farm mucky. I’ll sort him out.”
Letty heard him say this as she was going past with a message for Mungo. Putting her head round the door she said, “You’ll do no such thing. We can’t afford to lose any more clients. Who is it you’re referring to?”
“Phil Parsons.”
“Oh! Well, he’ll be no great loss. It’s like getting blood out of a stone getting him to pay.”
“I have your permission, then, to have a word?”
Letty looked uncomfortable. “Well, no, I didn’t mean that exactly.”
“Then kindly leave me to decide, Letty. I am the vet.”
Letty’s face registered very real annoyance almost as though she hated the idea that Dan was the professional and she wasn’t. Angrily she snapped, “The sooner we can manage without you the better.”
Dan raised his eyes to the ceiling in despair.
On her way back from seeing Mungo, Letty came in to say Mungo wanted her to remind him about attending that charity auction, and had he accepted? Dan, his mouth full of toast, nodded. He emptied his cup and fled to begin his calls.
Applegate Farm proved to be as Kate had said. Dan surveyed it from his driving seat and shook his head in disbelief. The actual buildings were in quite good nick, he thought; it was the muck and mess around the whole place which shocked him. Even the farmhouse looked chronically neglected. Torn curtains at the dirty windows, doors and window frames seriously in need of a lick of paint, old farm machinery rusting in the yard and shrouds of cobwebs clinging everywhere.
He twisted round, picked up his Wellingtons from the big washing-up bowl he kept them in to avoid mud inside his vehicle, put them on—which was difficult in the confines of the driver’s seat—then jumped out.
Phil Parsons leaped out from a doorway on the far right of the yard. “You’re here. For God’s sake, where have you been? Blossom said it was urgent. Come on!”
Dan paddled his way across the yard and went into the darkest, grimiest stall he’d ever seen, to be confronted by Phil’s bull in deep distress. His head was hanging low and loud rasping noises filled the air. His flanks were heaving each time he breathed, and Phil began hopping from one foot to the other shouting, “Do something! Do something! What’s up with ’im. Pneumonia, is it? Or what?”
Dan studied him for a moment and said, “Has he been off color?”
Phil shook his head.
Out of the gloom came Blossom. “Right as a trivet when Phil came in to say goodnight before we went to bed. Just stop that awful noise, please; Phil can’t stand it. Nearly out of his mind, he is.”
“Find him like it just this morning? No signs of it last night?”
Phil shook his head.
“I wonder. He’s beginning to bloat; look, there’s a lot of gas in there. He might have swallowed something, and it’s jammed in his throat.” With his eyes still on his patient, Dan observed the saliva pouring from the bull’s mouth. Obviously, his throat was completely blocked. He asked, “His temper. What’s it like?”
“Like a baby. Sweet as a nut.”
Through the gloom Dan thought he saw Blossom look a mite skeptical; but whatever, he had to do something about it, and now. “Has he a name you use for him?”
Filled with consternation that Dan didn’t know his name, Phil said, with reproach in every syllable, “It’s Sunny Boy. That’s his name.”
Very calmly Dan opened the stout gate to the stall and slipped in quietly. He laid a hand on Sunny Boy’s neck and said, “Well then, Sunny Boy. You’re not too good this morning, are you?” Sunny Boy shuffled from one foot to the other in apprehension; strangers weren’t welcome, he was saying. Over half a ton of bull not taking a liking to him made Dan excessively careful. He let his hands slide down Sunny Boy’s neck and throat, feeling gently as he went.
Phil watched his every move.
Aware he was being expected to work miracles, Dan tried again, feeling with sensitive hands for an obstruction in the massive throat. “I’ve an idea I’m right. Not sure, but it’s worth a try. I’m going for a gag to hold his jaws open while I feel down inside. You secure his head with a rope through his nose ring and I want two ropes, not just the one, from his halter to hold him firmly.”
“He’s not used to being tethered.”
“Well, if you want him cured, you’d better tether him. I can’t put my arm down his throat with him free to move about. Anchor him good and proper, if you please.”
But the whole exercise was fraught with problems: Sunny Boy, despite his kinship with Phil, refused to respond and tossed his great head this way and that trying to avoid the ropes. In his struggles he briefly stood on Phil’s foot, which brought a halt to Phil’s efforts. When Dan came back, he was still only tethered by one rope through a ring in the wall; and his breathing was growing worse.
Dan joined Phil in the stall, equipped with a gag, a powerful torch and a meter-long piece of fence wire bent into a narrow U-shape. “Give me the rope.” Phil hobbled back a few steps, leaving Dan with the rope. “Now, see here, my lad, that will do.” He said this in a loud authoritative tone and, to his surprise and Phil’s, Sunny Boy stopped tossing his head and allowed Dan to slip a rope through the ring in his nose. “Now, Phil, tie him up. Both sides.”
With Sunny Boy’s head virtually immobilized, Dan, inch by inch, got his jaws open and fixed the metal gag in place. Sunny Boy was now a model patient, though sweat was pouring off Dan. This warm, moist mouth edged with those great yellowing teeth and with half a ton of restless bull behind it was no place even for a vet to be hanging about in, and with Blossom holding the torch and Phil positioned ready to push on Sunny Boy’s neck below the obstruction, Dan swift as light slipped the wire down his throat, slowly guiding the loop over and behind whatever it was jammed in Sunny Boy’s throat. “Now, Phil, start pressing upward from behind as I pull.”
He manipulated and fiddled and twisted and lost his grip and tried again, and slowly he began to get a real grip on whatever it was; and against a background of Sunny Boy’s labored breathing, he got the wire right behind, dislodged the object and brought it out. He threw it out of the stall, removed the gag and left Phil to release his patient. “I’ll hang about to make sure all that gas which has accumulated in his rumen does come up, just in case.”
Blossom picked up the object and examined it in the light of Dan’s torch. “Why, good heavens, it’s a kiddie’s ball. Where did he get that from?”
But Phil wasn’t listening to her. His Sunny Boy, the pride of his life, had been saved. Had Dan been able to see Phil’s eyes, he would have see
n tears of joy. As it was, they soaked unseen into his balaclava. He came out of the stall, bolted the gate behind him and, taking Dan’s grossly slimy, dripping hand in his, shook it vigorously. “Brilliant. You’ve saved his life. Brilliant! I can’t thank you enough. Blossom, get that kettle on; we’ll have a coffee.” Phil wiped his hand on his jumper.
Dan said, “That sounds good. I’ll wash up first. Where’s the tap?”
Tremulously Blossom breathed, “You were so masterful with him, Dan. ‘That will do,’ you said; and he did just as he was told. It was like a miracle.” She clung to his arm. “Thank you. Thank you. I don’t know what Phil would have done if Sunny Boy had died. Kettle, right. Milk and sugar? No, we’ll have cream today. Yes. Celebrate, that’s what we’ll do.”
Dan washed his arms under the outside tap using the bar of soap he always carried with him. “You’ll have to warn your children about leaving balls near your beasts, Phil.”
“Ain’t got none. It’s them damn kids from the trailer park. There was a load of ’em here yesterday buying milk. It’d be one of them.” He went to lean his arms on the wall of Sunny Boy’s stall and wallow in admiration. Dan joined him. “I have to say this, Phil, he’s a grand beast. Beautiful creature. Where did you get him from?”
“Born right here in this stall. Absolute fluke. His mother was Christabel. I bought her as a heifer and found she was in calf, and it was this great beggar. Few weeks back Scott had to put her to sleep—old age, really. Poor Sunny Boy was right upset when I told him. Off his food he was.”
Dan realized there was a great deal of good, sensitive heart in Phil and that he needed careful handling. Instructing him to clean up the place could be counterproductive. While they both gazed in admiration at Sunny Boy, now cheerfully munching his hay, a cat slipped under the bars of the gate and entered the stall.
“Get out, you daft beggar, I’ve told you before. Come on. Puss, puss, puss.”
“Nice cat. Good-looking.”
“Come on, see what your Phil’s got in his pocket for you. Come on. Puss. Puss.” The cat changed her mind and squeezed out under the gate again. Phil gave her a jelly bean. “Them’s her favorites. Blossom calls her Scott and reckons she’s hers, but she isn’t. She belongs to me. Her and me’s mates. Bit older and she’ll be clearing this place of rats.”