by Rebecca Shaw
“I’m sorry, but Rhodri is out on call all morning. I thought he’d asked you not to call him anymore at work. I can’t employ staff to field his personal calls and I’ve told him so, and he promised it would stop. I’m sorry.”
When she replaced the receiver, Joy pulled a face at Kate. “Honestly, that woman! You’d think she’d have more pride, wouldn’t you?”
“You would.”
Clients always checked in at reception when they came, and a steady stream of them and lots of phone calls kept Joy and Kate busy for the next half hour.
It was Kate who answered the next time Megan Jones rang. “I’m so sorry, but Rhodri is still out on call. He’s attending a whelping and it could be all morning. After that he has a full list of appointments. Good morning.”
Kate put the receiver back and said, “That’s a new line. Now she’s talking about a sheep needing looking at.”
Joy raised her eyebrows and laughed. “Our Rhodri must have a lot more to him than we realize.”
“I think he’s really nice.”
“He is. But he’s a dyed-in-the-wool bachelor. Forty and set in his ways.”
“Pity, that; he’d make a nice dad.”
“You’re right, I think he would. How’s your Adam?”
Kate didn’t answer straightaway, having a client who’d made a mistake about his appointment time and was over an hour late.
“Please take a seat. I’ll tell Mr. Dedic you’re here and he’ll fit you in. Yes, you’re right, it is difficult to read the time on your card. We’ll have to make sure we write more clearly next time. I haven’t seen Adam for over a week; we’ve had a fallout.”
Joy looked speculatively at her. “You don’t appear to be unduly worried.”
“I’m not. He’s started getting possessive and ordering me about, and I won’t have it. Also he’s boring!” She looked at Joy and smiled a little bleakly.
“I see. It’s none of my business, but I’m quite glad; I didn’t think he was the one for you.”
“You didn’t? Neither does Mia.”
“She seems nice; in fact, very nice.”
“She is a love. She’s been so good to me. We get on so well. Same sense of humor, you know.”
“How long has she been your stepmother?”
“Since I was eighteen months old. I’ve no recollection of my own mother at all.”
“Your mother died, did she?”
Kate found a client far more important than answering Joy’s question and Joy took the hint. Obviously, it was delicate ground and she’d better keep off it. If Kate hadn’t seen Adam for more than a week, why had Adam’s nausesating purple car been parked down a side street on Friday, obviously waiting to catch Kate leaving work? A shudder went down Joy’s spine and she wondered if she should say something. She’d ask Duncan what he thought.
At this moment Rhodri bounded in, back from his whelping. “Nine! And they’re all beauties. All alive and kicking, born without a hitch. The first one was crossways on; that was the problem, but hey presto, after I’d straightened him up, they popped out like shelled peas.” He was exhilarated and completely wound up with excitement. He clutched Joy around the waist and twirled her around, saying, “Nine! All beauties worth five hundred pounds apiece. Mrs. Kent is so grateful.” He released Joy.
She pulled her uniform back in to place and wagged a finger at him. “I need a word with you.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into her office.
“Aren’t you glad for me? My reputation has rocketed sky high with Mrs. Kent. She’s weeping with gratitude, having thought she was going to lose both the bitch and the puppies.”
“Of course I am, but . . . this morning we’ve had two calls from that Megan Jones. I thought you’d stopped her ringing.”
Rhodri groaned. “Not again. I told her, I did, I really did. She doesn’t ring me at home anymore. Honest, Joy.”
“I believe you. But one more and . . .”
“What?”
“I shall have a word with her. She’s even mentioning sheep now, saying she has one in need of veterinary attention. I mean really! It’s her in need of the veterinary attention, not a sheep.”
Rhodri spread his arms wide. “What can I do? Eh? Advise me.”
“Well, I think you should . . . What the blazes is going on?”
Even though Joy’s office door was closed, both of them could hear the commotion outside in reception and Rhodri was convinced he could hear a sheep bleating.
“My God! That sounds like a sheep.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It is. It’s a sheep.”
They both rushed out into the reception area to discover a woman standing there with a full-grown sheep on a lead. It wasn’t enjoying its adventure and was tossing its head and stamping its feet, and bleating for all it was worth. The woman, well dressed in a Barbour jacket, brown cords and smart brown leather boots, appeared unconcerned by the commotion she was causing.
Kate was saying, “Please, we don’t have sheep in here; this is for small animals only. Please take it out.”
“I have been endeavoring to get a vet to come to my farm and attend to this sheep, but each time I get an answer, someone says that I can’t speak to Rhodri Hughes as he’s at a whelping. I don’t want to speak to Rhodri Hughes, at a whelping or not. All I want is someone to look at my Myfanwy and tell me what’s wrong with her.”
“You’re . . . ?” Kate asked.
“Megan Jones, Beulah Farm. We’re new.”
It was Kate who found her voice first. Joy and, in particular, Rhodri were too struck dumb with surprise and embarrassment to answer. “Ah! It’s a case of mistaken identity. I’m so sorry. We’ve been having nuisance phone calls, you see, from someone called Megan Jones and we mistook your calls for hers. I am very sorry.”
“There must be hundreds of Megan Joneses all over the world, so I can understand your mistake.”
“Look, Mrs. Jones . . .”
“Miss.”
“Sorry, Miss Jones, would you be so kind as to take Myfanwy outside and I’ll get a vet to come to have a look at her. Or if you prefer, you could take her back home and someone will visit.”
Miss Jones thought this over for a moment and decided she’d have someone look at her straightaway. “It is urgent, you see.”
Rhodri, poleaxed by his first impressions of this new Megan Jones, found his voice and said, “Could I be of any assistance?”
Miss Jones studied him coolly.
He nodded vigorously to encourage her to agree to his examining Myfanwy.
She nodded. “Are you experienced with sheep?”
Joy knew he wasn’t, not since his college days, and waited with bated breath to hear what appalling fib he was going to use to ingratiate himself.
“Oh yes! My favorite animal. Dorset Horn, isn’t she?”
Inwardly Joy groaned.
Miss Jones nodded. “Yes. Come on, then, boyo.” Myfanwy took some persuading to leave and it needed Rhodri, Miss Jones and Joy to get her out through the door. As she and Rhodri heaved and pushed from the rear, while Miss Jones pulled from the front, Joy muttered, “For God’s sake, mind what you do. If in doubt, shout.”
Finally Myfanwy was forced into departing. Joy returned to the desk and Kate asked quietly, “Does he know anything at all about sheep?”
“Not a damn thing, not since college, anyway. I’ve never known him to do a thing like this before; he must have gone mad.”
“By the looks of Rhodri, he believes he’s met his soul mate.” Kate laughed.
If Joy hadn’t been so anxious, she would have laughed too. “I’m going to wash my hands—I stink of sheep—then I’m taking a peep outside from the laundry window. You look after the shop.”
One of the regular clients called out, “Kate! There’s one thing about coming here: You do see life. It’s the first Monday, so Adolf will be here soon. I just hope Graham’s running late with his appointments or I shall miss the fun.”
“Oh, drat! I’d forgotten.”
Kate raced off into the laundry room for the fire bucket but got tempted into joining Joy at the window. Rhodri and Megan were holding an earnest discussion.
“Joy, are we witnessing the meeting of true minds here?”
“I reckon we just might be. This could be a moment in history to be savored.”
“I wish these windows weren’t double glazed and we could hear what they’re saying.”
“Kate, honestly!”
“I wonder if she likes ferrets.”
“Had we better warn her before things get too advanced? Oh, look! There’s Mr. Featherstonehough’s old van.”
“Adolf!”
Kate grabbed the fire bucket, Joy fled to shut the door to Mungo’s flat, and Rhodri and Megan were left to discuss the nitty-gritty of Myfanwy’s symptoms unobserved.
Both Joy and Kate were intrigued to know what had happened between the two of them, but Rhodri returned by the back door and went straight to his consulting room without entering reception. The first they heard of his return was his singing “Land of My Fathers” in his wonderful tenor voice with such enormous enthusiasm that one was made deeply aware of the passion therein, but whether or not the passion was for Wales or for Miss Megan Jones, they could only guess. Kate and Joy raised their eyebrows at each other and laughed, but not for long.
Miriam came down from the flat, carrying a cake for the staff in honor of Mungo’s birthday, and before they knew it, Perkins was down the stairs and in reception, going like an arrow for Adolf.
Joy shouted, “I don’t believe it!” But she was too late. He’d passed her, and Perkins and Adolf were in the throes of yet another major fight. She grabbed the bucket and emptied it over them, but they were too quick for her and she missed them both. “Oh no!”
Kate grabbed the bucket again and fled to fill it up, returned, aimed again and this time scored a hit. The two dogs broke apart and both shook off the water right in front of Joy, drenching her before she could leap back.
“You two naughty boys! What are we going to do with you? Look at me.” The only sympathy she got from them was Perkins grinning at her. Adolf completely ignored her and went to sit, propped against Mr. Featherstonehough and wetting his trouser legs in the process.
“Dry-cleaning bills, that’s what you’ll be getting next.”
Miriam apologized. “I’m so sorry, it was my fault, I left the door open to our flat. I just don’t know how Perkins knows you’re here.”
“Neither do I. I could always move and go to that place in the High Street.”
“Well, of course, the choice is yours, but we’d hate to lose you.” Miriam smiled her most enchanting smile.
Mr. Featherstonehough, a womanizer in his time, couldn’t resist her charms and melted before her eyes. He rubbed a wry hand over his bristly chin and said slyly, “Of course I could be persuaded to stay. Like I say, your staff are all so pretty, especially that one who spills out of her uniform.”
Miriam pretended to be shocked. “Well, really, I must say, so that’s why you’re a client of ours. It’s our attractive staff, not the expertise.”
“And you too, Mrs. Price. I could do with you holding Adolf for his injection. Very nicely I could.”
“You flirt, you!” Miriam patted his arm and left with Perkins amid muffled giggles from the other clients waiting their turns.
THAT night at Mungo’s birthday dinner, Joy related the episode with Mr. Featherstonehough to Mungo and he found it hugely amusing. “The old reprobate. Threatening to leave me, is he? Well, he won’t. We go back a long way, him and me. He wouldn’t possibly leave me.”
His words were an echo of the ones he’d used to Joy when she’d threatened to leave the practice and she raised an eyebrow at him, but he avoided her eyes. “Do you know, he was my first client, was old Mr. F. He had a huge Rottweiler then called Fang, a massive creature, totally unpredictable. He clamped his teeth on my arm more than once, the nasty devil.” Mungo pushed back his shirt cuff and showed a scar. “See! I begged him to have him put down, but he wouldn’t and then the dog bit his wife, and I mean bit, cracked a couple of bones in her wrist, he did, and she issued him an ultimatum: either the dog went or she did. It took him a week to make up his mind, which wasn’t very flattering to his wife, but eventually he came in one day heartbroken and declared that he wanted him put down. He wept. Left the surgery with tears streaming down his face. I met him in the street weeks afterward and he told me that the damn thing had bitten him more than once and that I’d been quite right; he had been dangerous, and at bottom he was glad he’d had him put to sleep.”
Miriam said, “After all that, he’s gone and bought another one.”
“Yes, but not until after Mrs. F. had died. Adolf’s a big soft beggar; wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Duncan said he found it difficult to understand why people needed animals to love.
Miriam was appalled. “Oh, Duncan, how can you say that? They’re wonderful. Look at our Perkins. He’s such a love.” Perkins, banished from the dining room while they ate, was sitting outside the door, heard his name and whimpered loudly to remind them of their extreme cruelty to him.
“You’ve got Mungo to love. Why do you need a dog too?”
“Well, he’s not my dog, is he? He’s Mungo’s.”
“Why have you got him, Mungo?”
“He’s my third Airedale and I wouldn’t be without one.”
“There must be a reason. Come on.”
Joy kicked his foot lightly under the table. “Just because, darling.”
“Joy’s just kicked me to tell me to shut up, but I honestly want to know. Why do you need a pet to love?”
Mungo shuffled uneasily in his chair and then answered, “If you must know, my Janie bought me an Airedale puppy for a wedding present and I loved him from the first moment. Don’t ask me why, because I can’t tell you, but I did.”
The silence this comment brought about was uncomfortable for all of them except Duncan, who remained unmoved. Joy because she knew the pain it caused Mungo even to say Janie’s name, Miriam because she wondered if Mungo would ever love her as he had loved Janie, and Mungo because of the searing pain memories of Janie could still inflict.
“You see, you have no rational explanation, have you? How a highly intelligent, well-setup man of the world like you can find himself muttering about loving a dog I do not know. A dog! God!”
Mungo, on the verge of losing his temper, said tightly, “I do. Let it be the end of the matter. Right?”
“So you’re irrational, then.”
“If love is irrational, yes. Perkins is all I have left of Janie; his bloodlines are related to the first one she gave me and that’s enough for me. Brandy, Duncan?”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll be off.” He stood up. “It’s the same with children. Why do people bother? God! You can’t go anywhere, do anything without them damn well trailing after you making a noise and embarrassing you with their supposedly innocent questions. Their continuous demands on your time, your money, your nerves! Who’d have children?”
Joy gasped in astonishment at his thoughtlessness.
“I would, Duncan, any day.” Miriam looked up at him, her eyes full of tears.
Duncan, brought up short by the sadness in her voice, remembered too late. “I’m so very sorry, Miriam. Please forgive me. I’d forgotten.”
“That’s all right. I can’t expect other people to keep our tragedy in their hearts forever as I do. They’d have been fourteen and twelve now if they’d lived.”
“Damn bad luck, that. Both of them. How careless of me and how inconsiderate. Forgive me. I’ve got the black dog on me tonight. I’d better leave. See you at home, Joy.”
The three of them listened as Duncan clattered down the stairs to the ground floor. Joy spoke first. “There are times when I could cheerfully kill him. I’m so sorry, Miriam; he doesn’t mean half he says, he just enjoys argument.”
“Not your fault. It’s a long way for him to walk.”
“Do him good. I’ll go too, but not before I’ve helped you with this lot.” She waved an arm at the cluttered table.
“Certainly not. I don’t expect my guests to work. I’ll do it.” Miriam pressed her hands on the table and heaved herself up. “Won’t take long.”
Mungo sprang up. “I’ll help. Shall I see you to your car, Joy?”
“I do know the way! I’d rather you helped with all this, salve my conscience a bit. Bye-bye and many thanks. I’m sorry Duncan spoiled your birthday, Mungo. Don’t invite him next year.”
Mungo kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry about it, not your fault, but he could do with keeping some of his opinions to himself.”
Joy kissed Miriam and squeezed her arm. “Sorry! Night-night.” Joy picked up her bag, slung her jacket over her shoulders and left.
Miriam sat, head down, staring at the table. “It never leaves us, does it? Always there, dogging the footsteps?”
Mungo placed a hand on each side of her head and lifted it so he could see her face. “Expand on that. What dogs your footsteps?”
Miriam chose to say, “The children.” Best keep Janie well pushed away so she couldn’t hurt. “Still, there we are.” She sighed.
“You must let them rest. Let go. Just let them go.”
“You’ve let them go, have you, then? The son the image of you. The daughter so unbelievably pretty?” A deep sob escaped before Miriam could stop it.
“Darling!” He hugged her close. “If I could turn back the clock . . .”
“They’d still be ill, wouldn’t they? Still be incurable.”