THE GOBLIN
Lynda La Plante
Carol Mary Edge was sentenced to eight years for the manslaughter of her mother. In prison she had been closely monitored for the first two years and given sporadic sessions with a prison psychiatrist. A plump, lank-haired girl, she was well behaved but sullen and uncooperative. She changed radically when she was transferred to an open prison and, with other girls, put to work in the garden. Part of her duties was caring for the inmates' 'pet corner'; they had a goat, three guinea pigs and two rabbits. By the time Carol was released there were ten rabbits and the girls had bred over three hundred more and sold them on to the local pet shop.
On her release Carol had eighteen months of weekly visits with a parole officer; having no living relatives it was the parole board that arranged her accommodation and a job at an MFI store. Carol was still overweight but she had muscle tone from working in the prison garden and she was very strong. Her dark hair was almost to her waist, worn in a braid down her back. She had made a few friends in prison, but none she intended to see again. Instead, she was determined to start a new life, listing as preferences for future employment anything to do with animals. Sometimes the customers at MFI were like aggressive animals themselves and she loathed her job. Carol constantly badgered her parole officer to find her alternative work.
After two years, Carol left the MFI store to work as a kennel maid at Battersea Dogs Home. She moved to a small one-bedroom flat on a large council estate near to her new job. Via the animals Carol saw at first hand the results of abuse on the creatures taken into care but she also recognized that with careful training, love and patience they could be healed and new homes found for them. She saw the tragic cases of the strays that were never taken and eventually ended up being put down. Equally heartbreaking were the dogs returned from their new homes; all her love and patience had not been enough and they had savaged their new owners, or been too boisterous and so were rejected and brought back to eventually be destroyed.
Carol learned from these dumb creatures the need to be accepted as 'normal'. Being sweet-tempered and obedient secured them a safe existence. She watched her own behaviour more at the kennels than at MFI. Eight years as a guest of Her Majesty had resulted in Carol picking up from the other inmates their relish at using foul language and so she made a great effort to not swear. The time spent working alongside the vets and qualified kennel maids made her determined to gain some qualifications but, sadly, she failed the written examination to move up a notch from basically cleaning out the cages and walking the dogs. She took home the canine magazines and dog show newsletters as bedtime reading. In one of the magazines she found an advertisement for an experienced receptionist at a veterinary practice in Highbury, North London.
Carol applied for the job, and used her free afternoon for the interview, which was taken by the present receptionist, who was pregnant. It was a large practice, run by two vets, Peter Frogton and Miles Richards, and two female veterinary assistants. They had a large open plan reception area with a high desk and clean tiled floors. There were three consulting rooms for the vets to examine the sick animals, behind which were the cages for overnight stays. The cages were close to a large well-equipped operating room.
Carol was asked to fill in a 'previous employment' form and if she was suitable she would be asked to meet both the residing vets. Carol took the form home and spent hours poring over each question, writing down her replies on a notepad so she wouldn't make any mistakes when filling in the form itself. Previous employment and letters of recommendation worried her: prison, MFI and eighteen months washing down dog shit was not exactly the best CV even though it was only to act as a receptionist. The current pregnant one had implied that there was often a lot more to the job and it could even entail assisting the veterinary nurses.
Carol went to the head kennel maid at Battersea, mentioned the possible job and asked if they could give her a letter of recommendation. They would be very sad to see her leave but knew that the wages were very low and, understanding that if there was a possibility of something more lucrative for her, they would of course give her the letter.
'To Whom It May Concern' was signed by the administration officer and stated that in the two years Carol had worked for Battersea she had been methodical, caring and willing. She also had shown a very sympathetic and intuitive knowledge of the dogs, gaining their trust quickly and helping in their rehabilitation and training.
Carol went to a local print shop, carefully printed out the headed notepaper and then copied the letter inserting nine years for two. As she was still only twenty-six years old, it would appear that she had gone to work for the kennels on leaving school. She was no longer required to visit her parole officer and from her mother's estate she now had ten thousand pounds in the bank.
Carol waited to hear from the veterinary clinic and eventually received a letter asking her to come into the surgery to meet the two partners. She spent a lot of time shopping for new clothes, neat skirts and blouses, a couple of jackets and two pairs of court shoes. She was impressed by her own appearance, her long hair neatly braided, her new business suit; she even had a small briefcase. 'Yes', she thought, 'I look the fucking business!'
It was love at first sight: Peter Frogton was charming and very good looking, if older than she had expected. He was fifty-two with dark hair greying at the temples, slim, about five feet ten, and dressed in tweeds, but the pale blue tunic was what really made him stand out. The high collar enhanced his blue, dark-lashed eyes and he had a lovely gentle manner. The other partner was younger, blond, knew he was attractive. He was not all that interested in Carol. He seemed to be in a hurry and kept looking at his watch; he didn't even stay to show her round. Mr Frogton did, and then sat and had a cup of coffee with her, asking her about herself, and did she feel she could cope with reception duties. Carol said there would be no problem as she had worked on a secretarial course before leaving school. It was a lie. But by the time she returned home she was elated; she had the job, starting the following Monday.
Carol had never been so happy and the job was beyond her wildest dreams. Working at the desk taking appointments and phone calls was nerve racking to begin with but within a week she was relaxed and very competent. She also began assisting the training veterinary nurses and a number of times worked late with either one or other of the partners. It was a very busy practice and the patients ranged from a mouse with a broken foot to birds and snakes but mostly it was the cats and dogs that needed treatment. Carol kept her white uniform pristine and she even bought a pair of white nurse's shoes to make herself look more efficient.
At night Carol studied the veterinary medical books, the journals and news circulars. Her whole life revolved around her work and her dreams of becoming closer to Mr Frogton. She had never had a relationship with anyone, had never really had any sexual urges until now. Carol at no time showed her infatuation but retained a very professional presence. However, she was becoming sure that Mr Frogton was falling in love with her. She knew this by certain small things that he did: when he wore a flower printed tie, it was a signal. On Valentine's Day he bought her a box of chocolates – that he also bought them for all the other women made no difference; he would have to do that so no one knew his intentions towards her.
Carol was careful when asking questions about his private life but when she discovered that he was divorced, and quite recently, it was yet another signal: he had instigated the divorce because of his feelings towards her. She was loath to ask too many questions about his personal life as she didn't want anyone becoming suspicious of their relationship.
Every day was a bonus. She became more and more indispensable, working late, ar
riving before she was required to be on duty. Frogton made her even more certain of their growing love affair when he asked if she would take the keys to the surgery home with her. This meant that she could open up for him, as she was always so early and it would be a relief for him to know she was there.
On a number of occasions when they were operating on the sick animals she offered to help out and proved so invaluable that Frogton started to ask for her specifically to assist him. It was yet another sign of his love. If he wrote a memo for her she treasured it as a love token. To her, a simple message that read 'call owner first thing in the morning', actually meant, 'I am desperate for the morning, to be near you!'
Carol would help Frogton into his smock and pass him his mask, and he was so patient and caring, always explaining what he was doing and why. She began to scrub up her hands the way he did, snapping on the rubber gloves in an identical manner, even wearing a mask. Bit by bit she began to know all the names of the different surgical instruments, always ready and waiting to pass them to him. One day he said to her that he felt she was more adept than his actual veterinary nurse. His compliments made her flush, not with embarrassment but with passion; she was by now adoring of his every move.
Carol made sure she was on good terms with the nurses and she tried to be nice to Miles Richards but she didn't like him. He used to get a little tetchy with her when she was supposed to be on reception and instead was with Mr Frogton. The practice was a very busy one and they also sold customers dog food, cat litter and certain over-the-counter non-prescription treatments for fleas and ticks. Part of her job was to reorder and restock, plus take all the appointments and oversee the daily surgery requirements. The medical supplies were kept locked in a secure cabinet in the office but Carol was often asked to check if they were running low and then to make a note for either vet to order more.
Hilda was the other receptionist, a middle-aged friendly woman, and Carol made sure they remained on good terms. Come nine o'clock in the morning there were at least six or seven clients and their animals, and it would continue all day until evening. Sometimes they had late night surgery, early starts in the morning for the operations but Carol never once complained. Often she would take over Hilda's duties, as she was invariably late, so their friendship grew over the months.
Christmas 1972, and the surgery had a little tree, decorated by Carol, who had brought in small wrapped gifts for everyone to place beneath the tinfoil-covered base. It was just the tree. Miles had felt that would be all that was necessary but all the cards they were sent by their patients Carol threaded on to a ribbon and pinned up around the reception desk. It was, she felt, going to be the happiest Christmas of her entire life. The staff were to break for the Christmas holiday on the 24th December and reconvene on the 27th, with another break for New Year, and the rota of those required for emergencies was to be discussed. Miles had booked a holiday for all the Christmas period, leaving for St Moritz on the 24th and not returning until January 6th. This had caused a little friction between the partners, and then Frogton agreed to take his vacation later in the year and not take a Christmas break; thus he could work over the holiday period for any emergencies. He asked if Carol had made any plans and when she said that she hadn't, and was prepared to work over the entire holiday, he kissed her, not on the lips, but on the cheek. (He couldn't have kissed her lips as there were other people there to witness his show of affection.) Frogton made her heart beat so hard it almost burst her uniform.
'You are so special, Carol, thank you. I really appreciate your loyalty; you have proved to be irreplaceable.'
That night she couldn't sleep, going over and over every detail in her mind, his beautiful sweet kiss, every word he had said. She was irreplaceable! It was to her a sign of her lover's commitment to her, and the following day she received another as Mr Frogton arrived with his gifts to place beneath the Christmas tree. One was prettily wrapped in gold paper with gold ribbon and had a small gift card that said 'Happy Christmas, Carol, with love. Peter.'
Christmas Eve surgery went on until eight fifteen, then the doors were locked and out came two bottles of champagne. All the staff were gathered, except Miles who had already taken off for his Christmas break. They gathered round the tree as Mr Frogton played Father Christmas, handing round their gifts; for Carol it was the best time she had ever had in her entire life. She sipped her champagne, her face glowing. Mr Frogton had virtually drunk a bottle himself and was in high spirits as he produced a sprig of mistletoe and held it above his head, laughing. Carol stood on tiptoe to kiss him and he swung her round in his arms before he planted a kiss on her forehead. She knew he couldn't kiss her lips as before, not in front of everyone, but she flushed with happiness and kept her arm around his waist as he insisted everyone open their presents.
The leather bound desk diary with his initials in gold was, he said, the most perfect present. Carol's fingers shook as she carefully opened her gift from him. First she folded the gold paper neatly, then wrapped the gold ribbon round her fingers. She wanted to treasure every second, then she sat down to open the small leather box. The eighteen-carat gold charm bracelet took her breath away. Mr Frogton came and sat beside her, taking the bracelet from her and pointing out some of the charms. There was a tiger, a funny little train, a locket in the shape of a heart, a monkey, a tiny pair of ballet shoes and a cross.
'Do you like it?' Frogton asked.
'Oh yes, yes I do,' she murmured, reading so many messages of his love into each charm.
Frogton patted his pockets and produced a small envelope. 'They were all on the bracelet when I bought it, so I decided that I'd get one extra charm that is especially just for you.'
'Oh,' was all she could utter.
'Open it,' he said smiling.
With trembling fingers Carol opened the envelope and tipped into the palm of her hand a small goblin sitting on a toadstool, with a gold loop on its back to attach it to the bracelet.
'Do you like it?' asked Frogton. 'He's an antique charm.'
'Oh yes, it's perfect.'
'Do you want me to put it on the bracelet for you?'
'Oh yes, thank you.'
Mr Frogton went to the counter, found a small pair of scissors and prised open the ring on the goblin's back, then hooked it on to one of the bracelet's links. Hilda stood by, watching. She found it touching the way Carol was so flushed, her cheeks bright pink.
'Isn't that lovely' she said, and Mr Frogton, delighted by his own gift, passed it to Hilda.
'It has quite a history, it belonged to an elderly aunt.'
Carol had to take a deep breath to control her emotions. An aunt – this meant the gift was very special, a family treasure, and he was giving it to her!
Hilda, much to Carol's annoyance, held up the bracelet for everyone to see, and they clustered round.
'Some of the charms look very old.'
'But the goblin's new,' Carol blurted out, wanting to snatch it away from Hilda, but she couldn't get near to it. Hilda now had it draped over her own wrist.
'. . . and it's very heavy, is it gold?'
Frogton laughed, and said he doubted it was of great value. He was still beaming, but by now glancing at his watch, anxious to leave.
Hilda passed the bracelet back to Carol; she wanted to snatch it, never let it go, but she managed to keep control of her emotions. The bracelet, the little goblin, were to her a declaration of his love. No one else had been given such a special, thoughtful and expensive gift.
Mr Frogton then bade everyone a happy Christmas and said he would have to go as he still had some last-minute shopping to do. Carol hurried to fetch his coat, holding it out for him.
'Are you spending Christmas here or going off somewhere special?' he asked.
'Yes,' she said and added, 'to my family, my mother is very elderly.'
'Well, have a wonderful time.'
He kissed her cheek and then bade everyone goodnight.
Carol was almost the last t
o leave. Hilda was putting on her coat, then picking up bulging grocery bags to take home, ready to prepare Christmas dinner.
'You're welcome to come and spend Christmas day with us, Carol,' she said.
'That's nice of you, Hilda but I've got family commitments, and I'm on the emergency callouts and Mr Frogton's bound to need me to help as he's working over the holiday.'
'All right then, you have a wonderful time. He must certainly think a lot of you; that was a really lovely present.'
Carol continued collecting all the Christmas wrapping paper and putting it into a black rubbish bag, but not her own paper from her present; that she would keep always. The cages were all empty and the surgery was silent as she turned off the lights, almost ready to go home.
'I'm off then,' Hilda said as she headed for the door, then, just as she was leaving, she chuckled, 'I hope it doesn't come early; she must be close to having it. He said he thinks it's a boy.'
'What?'
'The baby, Meryl's, you know, you took over her job. I suppose they'll get married, might even do it this summer.'
Carol was not that interested, just eager for Hilda to leave; she liked being alone in the surgery, especially sitting in Mr Frogton's section, looking over his things, tidying his desk.
THE GOBLIN Lynda La Plante Page 1