by Rebecca Shaw
Gab nodded his head toward the house. “She’s coming.”
Both men watched her walk across to them. Rhodri saw his beautiful lover walking toward him. Gab saw the swing of her hips, her slender ankles, and her red hair blowing in the wind. To avoid getting her shoes dirty, Megan didn’t walk through the gate into the field but stood on top of a small stone wall alongside the gate and waved. Rhodri looked at Gab, intending to say he’d be seeing him sometime, but the words stopped in his throat when he saw the lecherous look on Gab’s face. A furious rage welled up in his chest. How dare Gab harbor thoughts like that about his Megan? She was his; absolutely his and his alone.
He snapped out, “You’d better get back to your fence mending, Gab,” and looked at the darkening sky, at the heavy gray clouds lumbering across from Beulah Bank Top. “Looks like rain. Get on with it, man.” He waved cheerfully to Megan, his heart like a stone in his chest.
Gab’s answer was, “Get stuffed.” He waved to Megan himself and shouted, “Meggie! Where’s that lad? I need another pair of hands, or I’ll not get done before milking.”
On the wind came Megan’s reply. “OK.” She got down from the wall and went into one of the outbuildings from which the lad emerged in a second and hurried across the field to Gab.
Rhodri grimly strode toward Megan, focusing his eyes on her lovely welcoming smile, knowing it was for him and him alone. Childishly he made a show of kissing her so Gab could see she belonged to Rhodri Hughes. When they were in the car fastening their safety belts, Rhodri said, “You know Gab?”
“Of course.” She knew what he was going to say.
“Does he ever make a pass at you?”
He noticed her slight hesitation, but she said, “No. Of course not.”
“He looks as if he might, but he’d better not.”
Megan turned to look at him full face. “He won’t. I shan’t let him.”
“You’ve noticed his face then when he looks at you with those greedy eyes of his.”
“I have, but he won’t.”
“Does your da know?”
“Of course not. He’s not that perceptive.” She turned to look out of the car window. “If we don’t get off, the afternoon will be gone and I shall be needed back for Da. Start her up, Rhodri, and don’t fret. Trouble with the Bridges boys is there’s too many of them and too few suitable girls. They fancy anyone in a skirt.”
“You’re a stunner, you see, that’s why I worry.”
“And I’m his boss and pay his wages, better wages than he’s had since he left school, I bet. Thanks for the compliment, though. Are we going or are we staying?”
“Going.” Rhodri revved up and charged out of the farmyard. They were over the humpbacked bridge in no time at all and speeding into Barleybridge. While Megan was choosing some lingerie, Rhodri excused himself and slipped away to buy a gift for her. He chose a manicure set in a leather case crafted into the shape of an old-fashioned cigarette case. He knew how she loved to keep her hands as immaculate as she could.
On the way back in the car, he handed it to her. “Present for my lovely.”
Out of the corner of his eye he watched her face as she opened up the box it was in.
“Why, Rhodri, this is lovely. I’ve never had one of these. It’s just beautiful. Thank you.” Megan kissed his cheek, twice. “Thank you.”
“When you use it, think of me.”
“I think of you every day, my darling. All day.”
They’d almost reached the humpbacked bridge, and Rhodri decided to stop there for a short while. “I won’t come in when we get back. You’ll have enough to do. Let’s pull in here and talk.”
“OK.”
When he’d parked the car, Megan said, “I like sitting on the slope down to the stream; there’s a big flat boulder in just the right place.”
“Do you come here often then?”
“When I’m sick of the house and Da, I come here to get away. Escape it all…for a while.”
Rhodri felt immeasurably sad. “Well, let’s then.”
So they sat huddled tightly together on the stone, watching the busy stream attending to its own affairs. “This stone’s only just big enough for the two of us.”
Megan grinned. “Cozy though.”
“Oh! Yes. It is.” His arm tightened around her shoulders. “Could stay here forever.”
“Too cold.”
“We’re sheltered from the wind.”
“Nice place to make love, though.” Megan chuckled. “Slope’s a bit steep. It’d be something of a challenge, wouldn’t it?”
“Have to mind you didn’t finish up sliding down into the water.”
Megan laughed. “You’re right there.”
He loved to hear her laugh—there wasn’t enough of it in her life. There would be if she married him.
Megan shuddered.
“Cold?”
“No, just a weird feeling. Premonition or something.”
Abruptly Rhodri got to his feet. “Time to go.”
Megan looked up at him. “You sound as though you felt it too.”
“No. Not me.” He hauled Megan to her feet and made an effort to kiss away their strange feeling of something about to happen. “What was it you felt?” He gripped her hand to help her up the slope to the road.
“Just nothing, really. I’m being silly.”
He opened the car door for her, made sure she was comfortable, and then went around to get in his own seat. As they drove up between the trees, he could feel her discomfort settling on him too. He tried to force it out of his mind but couldn’t. Not her da? Not something that happened while they were out? He checked the car clock. They’d been exactly two and a quarter hours.
As he put on the hand brake, he said, “I won’t come in. I’ll wait till you wave to say your da’s all right.”
Standing with his back against the car, he watched her unlock the door and disappear inside. Then she came to the door again and waved. So it wasn’t that, then. The old sod was still alive. So what was it? He blew her a kiss, and she returned it and then closed the door. He didn’t know when he’d ever felt more alone than when the door closed behind her. Loneliness, like great waves of shocking pain, rolled over him, leaving him desolate. It would be tomorrow morning before he spoke to another living soul. What kind of a life was that? He started up the engine, and was about to drive away when Gab came out of a stable door and went to open the back door of the house. He called, “Meggie, my love. I’m off.” He’d better not go in or…
Rhodri heard her say from somewhere inside the house, “OK. See you in the morning, Gab.”
There was something dashing about Gab, something lean and handsome and…what was the word? Virile. Earthy. Like that gamekeeper in that book…what was it? He’d recall it when he wasn’t thinking about it. But he was just like him.
Politely, Rhodri waited for Gab to get in his scruffy little car, more fitted for the junkyard than the road, and drive away. When he’d gone, Rhodri thought, Gab sees more of her than I do, and he remembered the peculiar feeling they’d both had sitting by the stream that ran under the humpbacked bridge. No, he really was being stupid. He bet Dan didn’t have such daft thoughts. No, not Dan. Dan would have found a solution. But he was damned if he could. Dan would have compromised on something or other, and had Old Man Jones eating out of his hand. That gamekeeper. Yes, that was it. D. H. Lawrence. Lady Chatterley’s Lover. That was who Gab reminded him of.
HIS worries were still with him the next morning. Everyone else seemed focused, busy, enthusiastic; he was preoccupied with thoughts of Megan that were gnawing at his innards, rendering him useless. But the arrival of his third client rapidly emptied the forefront of his mind. It was Adolf, Mr. Featherstonehough’s Rottweiler. A soaking wet Adolf.
“Good morning, Adolf; good morning, Bert. You’ve been fighting Perkins again, haven’t you, old chap? I can tell. Kate’s been throwing water over the pair of you, hasn’t she? You’re not looking
too perky, Adolf. What’s your problem?”
Mr. Featherstonehough answered on Adolf ’s behalf. “It’s the old problem. That lump in his groin. Only this time it’s worse and well…see what you think.”
“Ah! I’ll have a look.”
Rhodri felt around Adolf ’s groin with trepidation. He knew what Adolf meant to his owner: the whole world. But the news wasn’t good.
“Let’s see, how old is Adolf now?” Rhodri flicked the records through on the computer and found Adolf ’s name. “He’s almost twelve?”
“That’s right. And as good as ever till these last few weeks. But he’s lost heart. If it hadn’t been for Kate’s bucket of water, Perkins would have had him for breakfast this time.”
“Do you get the feeling he’s in pain?”
Mr. Featherstonehough couldn’t bring himself to answer. “No. No. Not pain exactly. Well, to be honest…yes…I think so. Yes, it’s in his eyes; it’s as if he’s asking me to help him. And the way he behaves. Lying with his eyes shut but not really asleep, and I hear him prowling about in the night.” He bent to ruffle Adolf ’s ears and did it with deep affection.
Rhodri said to Adolf, “Excuse me,” bending to feel the lump in his groin again. It appeared to be much more extensive than the last time. “I think I’m going to keep him in and do some X-rays.” He looked up at Mr. Featherstonehough and very slightly shook his head. “It may not be as bad as I think, but—”
“Be honest with me, Rhodri, no beating about the bush. I need it straight from the shoulder.”
“I have an idea the lump has spread. We said when we operated a year ago that we didn’t know if we’d got absolutely everything cut out. I’m afraid it looks as though we haven’t.”
“I see. Well, he’s almost twelve. If he were younger, would you operate again?”
“Can’t say anything until I’ve seen the X-rays.”
“Bad as that, is it?”
Rhodri nodded.
Mr. Featherstonehough ruffled Adolf ’s ears again. “I shall need to see the X-rays to convince myself.”
“Of course.”
“Adolf ’s been a grand dog all his life. I shall miss coming here. We’ll miss Perkins and his damned fighting. Miss my wet trousers.”
“You could always get another.”
Mr. Featherstonehough slowly shook his head. “Not fair to get a dog when you’re not sure you’ll see it through its life. No. Might get a rescue cat though. My wife always wanted a cat, but we couldn’t have one, not with this old codger, nor with old Fang either. They both hated cats. I’ll leave him with you. I’ll come back for him. Tomorrow, eh?”
“That’s right. Tomorrow, first thing.”
“I shall want to be with him when…you know…at the end. If it turns out that…”
“Of course.”
The X-rays confirmed Rhodri’s worst suspicions. He got Mungo to take a look, and the two of them stood together shaking their heads. Dan came in and joined them. “Whose is this?”
Without looking at him Rhodri replied, “Adolf ’s.”
“Mmm. Looks like very bad news. How old is he?”
“Almost twelve, he is.”
Dan said, pointing to the huge mass of the cancer, “Curtains for Adolf then.”
Rhodri turned to him. “You’re a hard-hearted beggar, you are. Colder than ice, that’s what.”
Mungo added, “Practical might be a better word. He is right. It’s all too late for Adolf.”
“I know that! I have got eyes, but is there any need to say it quite so bluntly?”
Dan apologized. “Sorry, very sorry. Didn’t mean to be unfeeling.”
“Unfeeling! You haven’t got a thoughtful bone in your body, see.”
Mungo interrupted. “Steady, Rhod, Dan doesn’t know Adolf like we do.”
As though Mungo had never spoken, Rhodri continued. “This dog is well loved both at home and at this practice; we shall miss him, all of us. But you, having no heart, don’t have an inkling what we mean.”
Mungo’s lips went into that thin line, which anyone who’d crossed him could have recognized, but Rhodri was too eager to put Dan in his place to notice. “You’re a damned nuisance you are, always right, sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted, and putting everyone’s back up. This is none of your business. I know what I have to do—just needed Mungo to confirm it for me.”
“Dan, I wonder if you’d care to leave us now? Did you have something to say to me?”
Dan hesitated. “I did. But it can wait. I apologize, Rhodri, I wasn’t trying to tell you your job. Sorry.” He closed the door quietly behind him and left to start his calls.
Mungo waited for the sound of his brisk footsteps to die away and then turned to Rhodri. “I’ve a full morning of appointments, so I can’t see you till about one. In my office. I’ve a few words to say to you.”
He also left, going first to collect his list of appointments and the client files along with them. In reception he saw Bert Featherstonehough waiting patiently. Without warning, Perkins hurtled down the passage from the door of Mungo’s flat, straight as an arrow into reception and to where Adolf always preferred to sit. He put on his brakes when he realized Adolf wasn’t there, stood for a moment studying Mr. Featherstonehough and then placed a paw on his knee. Mr. Featherstonehough bent forward to stroke his head, and Perkins forgot his manners and licked his face.
“Well, now then, Perkins, young fellow, m’lad, he’s not here, is he? No, he isn’t, you’re right. And I think you know what’s the matter. You’ve been a good mate to my Adolf, haven’t you?” Perkins snuffled in his ear. “Well, old lad, you won’t be getting Kate’s bucket of water over you again, I think, perhaps. Unless there’s been a miracle. My Adolf ’s going to that doggy heaven where the rabbits all run slowly and the sun always shines. Yes, indeed.”
How Mr. Featherstonehough kept himself from breaking down no one knew, for they were all close to tears. It felt as though a chapter in the life of the practice were ending. Perkins accompanied him into Rhodri’s consulting room, which he well knew was not allowed, and was briskly removed by Rhodri, but no one had the heart to stop him sitting outside Rhodri’s consulting-room door.
Stephie whispered to Joy, “Do you think Perkins knows?”
“It looks like it. Dogs are very perceptive—some sixth sense, you know.”
“Poor Perkins, no more fights with Adolf. I shall miss him.”
“So shall I.”
Mr. Featherstonehough came out of the consulting room, ramrod straight, and marched to the main door, like the old soldier he was, looking neither to right nor left. One of the waiting clients half rose from his seat, intending to say something consoling to him, but sank back down again when he saw how close to breaking down Mr. Featherstonehough was. As for Perkins, he watched his friend disappear through the main door and then stood up and walked slowly into the back and up the stairs to Miriam for comfort.
When Stephie went to get a clean uniform from the laundry room she happened to glance out of the window and saw that Mr. Featherstonehough’s Volkswagen Camper was still parked outside. He was sitting in it, staring out of the front window like a man made of stone.
“Should we go out to him, do you think, Joy?”
“No. He’s tough, regular in the military police, worked with army dogs till he was forty. He’ll come to terms with it in his own way.”
“He’ll be lonely when he goes back in the house and there’s no dog there.”
“Of course, but knowing him he’ll do something about that before too long.”
Stephie thought about that and then said, “I expect you’re right. Can’t have been easy for Rhodri.”
“No. It’s all he needs at the moment. Putting Adolf down. Poor Rhodri.”
MUNGO knew the value of Rhodri’s experience in the practice and had no intention of asking him to leave, but he did know he had to be firm. There must be no more being tough with clients and no more of this unpleasantne
ss to Dan. He took off his reading glasses when Rhodri came into his office and leaned back in his chair. “Sit down. I’ve had a long morning and so too have you, and we both need our lunch hour, so let’s not beat about the bush. How did Bert take it?”
“Very well. Said his good-byes and marched out like the good soldier he is. Everything well held in, no tears, no breaking down. But underneath…”
“I expect he’ll be a while getting used to the idea. If it were Perkins…”
“Exactly. You wanted to see me.”
“Rhodri, you know how much we value your experience. I don’t want to lose you, either by your giving notice or my suggesting you find another post, but I really do have to say that I can’t tolerate this business of your being at loggerheads with Dan. He’s an excellent asset to the practice, and you must agree about that. He’s bringing in more equine work than I’d ever hoped possible, so not only his expertise but the money he’s earning through equine is improving our finances no end. We can’t expect that everyone will get on with everyone else just because they work together, but this vendetta with Dan is becoming childish.”
Rhodri strove to interrupt, but Mungo held up his hand to silence him. “I won’t have it. Do you understand? It’s all over nothing.”
“It isn’t all over nothing. He dealt with that crazy dog Bingo and then examined the cat and more or less told me what I needed to do to save it, when it should have been either me or Graham or Valentine who should have done it. He’s arrogant, he’s always right and…”
“Yes?”
“And he seems to have everything I want.”
“What’s that?”
Rhodri shrugged his shoulders; he’d look a fool if he said he wanted a wife and a child, as Dan had. That he wanted some of Dan’s “get up and go.” Some of his bluntness. That it was sheer jealousy motivating the vendetta.
“Is there nothing to be done about Megan? Can’t you marry her and go live there and sort it that way?”
“And have to tolerate that dreadful old beggar every day of my life?”
“God, man, the house is big enough; you could make him rooms of his own. Surely?”
“He wouldn’t have that.”