by Rebecca Shaw
“Indeed. Good thing we found out in time before we had any more.” He was silent for a minute and then said gently, “Lovely dinner, as always. You go to bed. I’ll do this lot.”
“Why do I like Duncan so much when he’s so odd?”
“Perhaps because he is odd.”
“He needs hugging, you know; that’s what he needs, lots of hugging to convince him he’s worthwhile.”
“So do I.”
Miriam laughed. “You! You’ve an ego the size of a watermelon. His is the size of a grape, if he has one at all.”
“Well, don’t you go hugging him or Joy might have something to say.”
Miriam watched Mungo stacking plates and then answered, “I don’t think Joy thinks about him like that; she really wouldn’t mind if I did. They have the most peculiar relationship, haven’t they? They’ve kind of stayed individuals and haven’t melded.”
“Haven’t noticed.”
“We’ve melded.”
Mungo thought about what she’d said and nodded. “Yes, you’re right, we have. I’ll see to Perkins. Off you go. It’s raining now. Can you hear it? Duncan will get soaked; it must be all of five miles. Serve him bloody well right. I take a certain amount of pleasure at the idea of him getting a soaking, the thoughtless sod.”
BUT because of the rain, Duncan hadn’t taken the path over the fields as he usually did; he’d kept to the road. Consequently, Joy had caught up with him and given him a lift. They drove home in stony silence. Duncan unlocked the front door; Joy put the car in the garage and stalked upstairs to bed. She was seething with tumultuous emotions, none of which she could come to terms with. When she came out of the bathroom, Duncan was already lying on the bed, wearing his pajamas. She looked down at him. “Pleased with yourself?”
“Not at all.”
“I should think not. How could you be so crass? Have you forgotten all those agonizing years of theirs? How you couldn’t even go and see the children because you were made so desperate by their plight? Remember?”
Duncan turned over and groaned. “Of course.”
“So?”
“I got carried away with my argument and didn’t think.”
“Exactly.” Joy sat on the edge of the bed and set the alarm for morning.
Duncan rolled over and disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, he got under the duvet and lay on his back with his hands clasped beneath his head. “I get so involved with my work I forget human beings. Do you know that? I forget feelings and things, you know. I think everyone’s automatic like me and they’re not.”
“Really!”
“Yes. First and foremost I should have thought of Miriam’s feelings and they never occurred to me. Not once.”
“I blame computers.”
Duncan thought about this for a moment and nodded his head. “You could be right. They’ve no emotion, you know, none at all, no flexibility, no give and take. They’re programmed that way. Did you realize that?”
“Of course.”
“Maybe I’ve lived with computers for so long that I’ve grown like them.”
“Could be.”
“Become devoid of emotion—that’s why I act so strangely. I think only of myself.”
Joy pretended surprise. “No!”
“Tomorrow first thing, I shall go down to the florist’s and organize a bouquet of flowers for Miriam with a card written in my own hand.”
“What will the card say?”
“It will come to me by morning.”
“Right.”
“Maybe it’s a new disease that will shortly be discovered by science. Maybe it’s at the root of all our troubles, people turning into robots through continuous association with computers. I may have hit on something here.”
“I shall be hitting you before long.”
“Maybe all the violence in the world is caused by computers because they’ve made people no longer feel anything at all. Consequently, we’re free to damage other human beings and things without any conscience whatsoever. You know, the damn things are dictating our behavior and we’ve never realized. So computers are taking over the world as we threatened they would and carelessly we all laughed at the idea.” Duncan sat up. “Joy! I feel so dreadful about Miriam. To do that to such a lovely person. I’m ashamed of myself.”
Joy took hold of his hand. “She understands.”
Duncan sighed. “Joy?”
“Yes?”
He lay down again, still holding her hand. “You can’t stop loving him, can you? I can see it in your eyes when you’re with him. It’s not fair to Miriam, you know.”
Joy didn’t answer but leaned on her elbow and kissed his cheek.
Duncan’s deep-set eyes looked up at her. The lamp cast shadows in the hollows of his eyes and she couldn’t read what they were saying. She knew what she wanted to say, but she didn’t say it. Instead: “And there’s you, saying you’ve lost all feeling to that computer of yours.”
Duncan lay silent for a while, then rolled onto his side and drew up his legs till his knees were almost touching his chin. “I’m for sleep. Remind me in the morning. Flowers. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Before she knew it, he was breathing heavily, leaving her wide awake and in turmoil.
Chapter
7
“How could anyone do such a dreadful thing? Abandoning them like that? It’s so cruel. Look at the dear little things! Is that one asleep or . . .”
Kate and Stephie were peering into a cardboard box a client had found at the main entrance. Inside were four kittens—two tabbies, one black and one black with white markings. The black-and-white one was lying very still. Kate lifted its little head with her finger and it flopped. “I’ve a nasty feeling that one is beyond help.”
“Beyond help? You don’t mean it’s dead?”
“I think so. In fact, I’m sure so. How old are they, do you think?”
“I don’t know, but let’s get that one out that’s dead. Here, look, put it in this.” Stephie rooted in the waste bin and brought out an empty tissue box she’d that moment thrown away. “You lift it out. I’m not very good with them when they’re dead.”
Kate carefully lifted out the dead one and laid it in the box. “It’s so cold.” They covered it with a clean tissue and then gave their attention to the ones that were alive. Three pairs of bright little blue eyes peered up at them out of the depths of the box. The kittens looked so appealing that both Stephie and Kate said, “Ah! Aren’t they sweet?” Kate laid a gentle hand on each in turn and came to the conclusion they were all cold. “You’d think they could have put a blanket in for them, wouldn’t you? We’d better get them some help. What a lot of noise you’re making! I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?” She rubbed her finger under their chins, each in turn, and wished she could take one home, but Mia’s asthma forbade it. Responding to her touch, they began clawing at the sides of the box, trying to get out, their mouths opening into triangular shapes revealing tiny snow-white teeth as they mewed for help.
Stephie suggested they should get one of the vets to look at them.
The client who’d found them said, “They look big enough to me to lap up milk. You can’t ’elp but love ’em, can you, Kate? They’re so lovely. Wish I could lay my hands on the pigs who did this to ’em. What ’arm ’ave they ever done?”
“Well, perhaps their mother has died or the person who owns them couldn’t afford to keep them. They do get quite expensive to feed once you start weaning them. At least they brought them where they could get help. Sometimes people leave them in a bin or in a hedgerow somewhere and that really is cruel. See if Rhodri’s still here, will you, Stephie?”
“He’ll want us to call the RSPCA.”
“They’ll be adopted quickly, won’t they? There’s no one going to come forward to claim this little lot. Fancy being homeless at this age.”
“I’ll get Rhodri.”
Moved by Kate’s sympathy for them, th
e client put a finger in the box and the black kitten tried to lick it. “Ah! Look at that. D’yer know, I might ask the RSPCA to let me ’ave this one. Be a real friend for this little one ’ere.” He indicated the cat basket he’d put down on the floor. “They’d make a right pair—both completely black and only a few weeks between ’em.” The client tickled the black kitten on his chest. “He seems to ’ave taken to me, doesn’t he?”
“He does.”
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know for sure, but my granny used to say that a he always had a wider forehead even at this age than a she. What do you think?”
“If that’s the case, then the black’s a boy; look.”
They compared the heads of the three kittens and came to the conclusion that yes, the black was a boy and the two tabbies were girls.
Stephie came back to say, “Rhodri says take them into his consulting room and he’ll run over them. A job for Lynne, this. She knows how to make up the formula for them. She’ll get them to drink if anyone can; she’s done it before. If they’re hungry, they’ll probably take to it straightaway.”
When Kate rang the RSPCA and explained the situation, the reply was a groan. “Oh no! You won’t believe this, but we’ve just taken on board one hundred and forty-two cats and kittens from a place that bred cats for science. They’ve been closed down and we’ve got them all. We’ve sent twenty of them to another RSPCA home and even then we’re packed to the doors. There is no way that we can take any more on board, there’s literally no room at the inn. Could you possibly keep them till they’re ready to be adopted?”
“Well, I’ll have to ask our practice manager; see what she thinks.”
“After all, they are in good hands, aren’t they? Couldn’t be better, come to think of it. We’ll be ages, you see, adopting out this lot because they’re not used to being handled and we’ve a lot of work to do on them before they’re ready. If you could manage them, we’d be very grateful. They couldn’t be in a better place, could they?”
“No, you’re right there. It’s just that we’re not geared for long-term care, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“We’d be more than grateful, believe me. If you’re in need of advice or some such, do please ring us back, won’t you?”
“Will do.”
“We shall be forever in your debt. If it really is impossible, then we’ll take them—if push comes to shove, you know. Keep in touch.”
By lunchtime, the kittens were warm and well fed and sleeping peacefully, cuddled in a thick blanket in one of the postoperative cages. Kate took her lunch in there and ate her beef sandwiches wishing she could have one of them for herself. They’d taken to drinking milk wonderfully well under Lynne’s supervision. She certainly might not be a nice person to know, but she’d succeeded with the kittens in no time at all and Kate complimented her on her success.
Lynne shrugged her shoulders. “All part of the job. They’re in good nick, actually. Been looked after OK up to now. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Why did they get thrown out?”
“The black one’s spoken for; the client who found them outside wants it. That leaves the two tabbies. Just wish I could take one, but Mia’s allergic to fur. Brings on her asthma.”
“Is it nice having a stepmum?”
“Well, my stepmum is like a real mother to me. I’ve never known my own mother, you see. Dad and Mia married before I was two.”
“That’s different, isn’t it? Must be awful if you’re fourteen, say, and your dad marries again.”
Kate sank her teeth into an apple. “Mm.”
Lynne opened the cage door and felt the kittens. “They’re much warmer now. Right time-wasters, kittens are. So tempting to come and play with them and they need feeding all the time. Pity the RSPCA hadn’t room.”
“Imagine the work, looking after all those cats.”
“They’ve all to be neutered too, you know, before they can adopt them out. The mind boggles.”
Kate stood up to brush the crumbs from her uniform.
“Not on this floor, please.”
“Sorry. I’ll sweep them up.”
“You will. This is postoperative—got to be scrupulously clean. And don’t eat in here again.”
“Sorry.”
“So I should think. You’ve a lot to learn.”
“I know I have.”
“A lot to learn about manners, for one thing. Speaking to my brothers like you did. That Adam is a fool. A complete fool. Imagine not realizing they were finding him amusingly pathetic.”
Kate, surprised by the sudden change of tack, said, “He’s a kind man, that’s why. He wouldn’t act like that, ever.”
“No, he’s too wet.”
“Your brothers are arrogant.”
“So? Oxford and the City. They’ve something to be arrogant about.”
“I’m surprised that with that background they know so little about good manners.”
“They haven’t got where they are relying on good manners, believe me.”
“I can imagine.”
“There’s no need for your sarcasm.”
“There’s no need for you attacking me like this.”
Lynne faced her, hands on hips. “What is it about you that annoys me? Your CV, for a start. What are you doing playing at being a receptionist with a CV like yours? Eh? Answer me that. Two A’s. You should be at university, not piffling about here. Well?”
“What I do with my A levels is my choice. How do you know anyway? I’ve never said.”
Lynne tapped the side of her nose. “I have ways. Just keep out of my way. I don’t like people who are well in with the management; it smacks of toadyism.”
“I have never tried . . .”
“Lynne!” Joy stood in the doorway. “I am quite sure there is something better for you to be doing than gossiping in here. Kindly move! Sharp!”
Lynne made to leave.
Joy turned her attention to Kate. “And you, Kate, don’t eat in here again. If your lunch hour is finished, please get on with your accounts. We don’t want you getting behind with them, do we?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
Joy stood to one side to allow Kate to leave. The girl was flushed with embarrassment at her reprimand and Joy felt uncomfortable, for Kate hadn’t deserved that, but in front of Lynne it was the only thing to say to make them equal. So Lynne had been snooping around in the files, had she? Excellent worker, none better, but as a person . . . The incident made Joy recall the missing money and she wondered if this spat between the two of them was a confirmation that it was Lynne who’d removed Miss Chillingsworth’s one hundred pounds. Joy went to take a peep at the kittens. With business on the increase since their move to these premises, she rather felt the kittens were a burden they could well have done without. But one touch of their warm, soft furry heads and the sight of the little appreciative wiggle one of the tabbies gave as she stroked it changed her mind. Rather fun to have some healthy creatures to look after for a while.
For some unknown reason, Duncan came to the forefront of her mind. Joy looked again at the one that had wiggled its appreciation and she noticed that its stripes had a ginger tinge to them, which made it rather unusual. Since Duncan had sent the flowers to Miriam after his disastrous faux pas, he’d been slightly more mellow toward mankind. Maybe this kitten, whose ears she noted were attractively larger and rather more pointed than those of the other two, might interest him. She’d drop a few hints; see how he felt. Reluctantly leaving the warmth of the three kittens, Joy took her hand out of the cage and carefully clicked it shut.
“Can I have a turn?” It was Miriam. “Mungo told me at lunchtime, so I thought I’d come for a peep. Aren’t they sweet!”
Joy unlocked the cage again so Miriam could see more easily. Tears filled Miriam’s eyes. “The poor dear little things. Abandoned like that. How cruel.”
Joy watched her gentleness and fel
t the love flowing from her toward the three kittens. “Miriam. I haven’t said properly about Duncan. The flowers . . . they were his idea, not mine. When he stopped to think, he was appalled at what he’d said.”
“He’s been to see me.”
“He has? He didn’t say.”
“The next day with the flowers. We had a cuddle and a kiss, and we’re friends still. Somehow it helped me. He is such an understanding man.”
“He is?”
“Oh yes. There’s a delicacy about his feelings that is unusual in a man and he explained how it had all come about and, well . . . it helped.”
“I see.”
“He needs hugging, you know, Joy. I expect I’m telling you something you must already know, but he does; he needs hugging. At some time in his life he’s missed out on it right when he needed it. Perhaps he doesn’t know it, but I’m sure I’m right.”
“I see.”
Miriam stroked the kittens. “Very therapeutic, isn’t it? Touching sleeping babies, even if they are furry ones.”
Joy choked on her tears. “Miriam!”
Miriam turned to look at her, opened her arms wide and invited Joy to hug her. They stood, arms around each other, for a while not speaking, then broke apart as Miriam said, “I wish I could have one of them, but the risk of Perkins mistaking it for a rat is far, far too great. You won’t have got homes for them?”
“The black one is spoken for and I’m wondering about having one for Duncan.”
“Two down. One to go!” Miriam locked the cage. “Must get on. If you need help with feeding at the weekends, let me know.”
“Rhodri says they need to stay together until they’re six weeks; not right to separate them at this age.”
“Of course. Yes. See you, Joy.”
“And you.”
Duncan had never said he’d given Miriam the flowers in person. Miriam was right; he did need loving and, to be absolutely frank, he wasn’t getting it. Weeks went by and she scarcely touched him. Made his meals, did his washing, tidied the house, but loved him? Joy shook her head. What was worse, he’d known for years that she loved Mungo and in the beginning she’d never intended he should realize that fact. But he had and he did and he’d been right when he’d said it wasn’t fair to Miriam. Yet Miriam had put her arms around her as one did with a close friend. Like a bolt of lightning the thought entered Joy’s head that if Duncan had realized without being told, then possibly Miriam had too. That idea had never occurred to her before. But if she had realized, would Miriam have wanted to be a friend to a woman who loved her own husband? Wouldn’t she have wanted to keep her at a distance to lessen the chance of losing Mungo to her? Of course she would, so obviously Miriam didn’t know. Joy felt a great wave of relief wash over her.