‘So we’ve got lots to catch up on,’ she laughed. ‘And especially as you’re going to be having a baby. When’s it due?’
‘December. I’m pretty nervous about it all,’ I admitted. ‘I’m not with the father any more.’
‘Ah, who needs them, anyway? We can manage fine on our own, us girls.’ She smiled at me. ‘Seriously, you’ll be all right. Everyone around here’s so friendly and helpful, and I can give you loads of advice. If you want it, that is!’
Just as I was assuring her I needed every bit of advice I could get, we both turned to the sound of loud voices at the other end of the shop. Izzie raised her eyebrows at me.
‘Someone else having a moan about Nora,’ she whispered. ‘Everyone’s furious with her. She still hasn’t done the hanging baskets. They should have been up long before now.’
‘Oh no. For the Best-Kept Village competition? When’s it being judged?’
‘The judges start touring this month. In fact they might already have been round. Nobody knows: it’s anonymous. But the final judging is during July and August.’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘It’s mainly the older people who get so het up about it. But it’s good in some ways, you know. It makes people think about litter, and keeping things trim and tidy. And the judging includes the school playground, the playing field, facilities for kids, all that kind of thing. It’s not all about pretty flowers and stuff, but that’s what some people focus on. Trouble is, Nora’s always insisted on doing everyone’s baskets, making them all the same. They do look good, I’ll give her that. But this year, she’s really let us down.’
I thought about this on the way home. Hanging baskets seemed such a funny thing for people to get worked up about. But on the other hand, if it she knew it was important to her friends and neighbours, why wasn’t ‘Miserable’ Nora getting on with it? I could see already that life in a small village was going to be a lot fuller of interest and intrigue than I’d imagined. And with Izzie as a friend, hopefully a lot of fun, too.
Things were looking up, and I couldn’t wait to get more settled into my new life here.
Chapter 13
I felt ridiculously nervous on the day of my interview at the vet’s – whether about the interview itself, or about facing Joe again, I wouldn’t have liked to say. Daisy-May, at least, was pleased to see me.
‘It’s my last day today,’ she said, sounding overwhelmingly relieved about it. ‘I did warn Mr Bradley he needed to hurry up and hire a replacement, but he obviously won’t have anyone in place in time now.’ She gave me a smile that I think was meant to be encouraging and added, ‘I hope you get the job, Sam. You’ll be just what he needs – someone who can stand up to him.’
I wasn’t at all sure about that, and it certainly didn’t help to make me feel less nervous. When I sat down opposite him for the interview, he was already giving me one of his most disconcerting glares.
‘You need to understand,’ he began, ‘that this is a very busy job.’
‘I do. I do understand that, obviously,’ I said, trying to swallow my annoyance. ‘As you can see from my CV, I’ve been working in a very similar position for the past four years—’
‘With respect, you haven’t,’ he interrupted. ‘You’ve been working in what I gather is a posh clinic in a posh part of London where posh people bring their pampered pets.’
I resisted the temptation to congratulate him on his alliteration. He’d been practically spitting all the Ps at me across the desk.
‘A very busy posh clinic,’ I said. ‘It was a very busy job.’
He leant back in his chair, still staring at me. I stared back. I was beginning to wonder why I’d bothered to turn up for the interview. I’d suspected all along that this would be a waste of time. Even in the unlikely event that I ended up being offered the job, I’d hate working for Joe Bradley as much as Daisy-May seemed to have done.
‘Look, I’ll be honest with you, Sam,’ he said. ‘It appears you do have some of the relevant experience for this position, which is more than I can say for any of the other applicants who’ve wasted my time. But what concerns me is that you’ve probably moved here from London expecting an easy life.’
‘What?’ I gasped. ‘How could I possibly have given you that impression?’
‘Common scenario. People want a break from city life; they think moving to a country village is going to be stress-free, that life here is slow and peaceful, an easy ride—’
‘I certainly don’t expect an easy ride,’ I retorted. ‘I’m prepared to work hard at whatever job I take on.’
‘If you say so. But I have to warn you: this role isn’t straightforward. It’s evolving. There will be far more difficult duties than you’ve been used to, and frankly I’m not sure you’d be up to it.’
I’d started to think by now that nothing on earth could persuade me to work with him. But the condescending tone of his voice, the implication that I wasn’t capable, suddenly offended me so much, that against my better instincts I replied:
‘Well I am absolutely sure I’d be up to it. And I presume you’d be able to give me a list of the duties that are so much more difficult than I’ve been used to? In case I need to study for extra qualifications?’
I was being sarcastic, of course, but he responded in a similar tone.
‘Certainly, if you really need it. The list will be a short one, but I’m still not convinced you’d cope with it. The extra duties will involve a certain amount of contact with the animals.’
‘Oh!’ I didn’t see that coming.
‘I only have two nurses here. They work shifts, usually one on and one off. But there are occasions, unfortunately, when they can’t seem to organise themselves much better than my current brain-cell-challenged receptionist can and I end up with neither of them here. So I want the new receptionist to be able and willing to lend an extra pair of hands from time to time.’ He looked me up and down. ‘I doubt you’d be prepared to do that, so—’
‘Yes, I would! I’d love it!’ I said quickly. But instead of seeming pleased, he just raised his eyes and sighed.
‘It’s not just pampered pets around here. It won’t be all about stroking cute kittens.’
‘I wasn’t expecting—’
‘This is a country practice. We treat farm animals too. And I might need help in an emergency: assisting at surgery; passing me instruments; helping me hold an animal that’s in pain, distressed, bleeding, dying; dealing with bloody swabs and bandages; clearing up vomit and faeces.’ It was almost as if he was trying his hardest to put me off. Or was it a test? He was watching me for a reaction, but I didn’t flinch. ‘So to be honest, I should probably just hire another nurse instead,’ he went on, picking up my application form, looking like he was going to put it to one side.
‘But that’ll be more expensive. And you don’t really need three nurses. And you still won’t have a receptionist,’ I pointed out. ‘Whereas I can do exactly what you need.’
What was wrong with me? I’d already decided I didn’t want to work for him – hadn’t I? But … if I could only manage to ignore him, wouldn’t it be just the sort of job I’d always wanted?
‘That’s what you think, is it?’ he said, looking up at me now and meeting my eyes, the challenge in his own quite clear. ‘You think you’re capable? You wouldn’t start crying over dead calves or squealing about a bit of blood?’
‘I’m not squeamish, if that’s what you’re suggesting. To be honest I doubt you’d find anyone else more suitable. As you’ll see from my CV, I’ve got a City & Guilds certificate in animal care too.’
‘Oh have you. Well, I’d better let the animals know about that.’
I couldn’t tell any more whether he was being nasty or just trying to be funny. It didn’t matter, though, because I was suddenly completely certain that I wanted the job. Daisy-May was right. I could learn to cope with his attitude, his rudeness. I would. I could do it.
‘So when could you start – if I were to offer
you the job?’ he went on, looking down at his desk again.
‘As soon as you like. Monday?’
‘I’d better see you on Monday, then, as you seem to have appointed yourself, and I’ll just hope you’re not totally useless. You’ll have a three-month probation period to start with,’ he said, dismissing me. ‘Start at eight-thirty sharp.’
It seemed I had a new job. I was just hoping I wasn’t going to regret it!
I told David about the job when I had my first walk with him on Saturday morning, accompanied by Brian the beagle and Apollo the Jack Russell. And despite his apparent dislike of Joe Bradley, he was nice enough to congratulate me and wish me well.
It was another fine day, sunny but breezy, and we kept up a brisk pace through the meadow and along the path that led to the coast where, because the tide was out and there were no picnickers to disturb, we let the dogs have an ecstatic gambol on the beach before heading back to the village again.
‘Poor Brian will be shattered. He’s only got little legs,’ I pointed out, making David laugh.
We’d done a lot of laughing during the walk, and a lot of chatting. I’d told him about my situation, and it turned out that he, too, was single following the break-up of a serious relationship, although in his case it had ended more than a year before. And of course, we talked about our cats.
‘You must come and meet Ebony,’ I told him. ‘She’s so sweet. She was very neglected and nervous, but she’s settled down really well.’
‘I’d love to,’ he responded warmly.
And to prove he meant it, he came round the very next day and made such a fuss of Ebony, she not only sat purring on his lap but climbed up his chest and draped herself around his neck. He made a fuss of Nana, too, complimenting her on her ginger cake and offering to help her with shopping if ever she needed anything while I was working.
‘I’ll tidy up the garden for you, too, if you like,’ he suggested, looking out at the little rough overgrown plot at the back of the cottage. ‘I don’t think Sam ought to be doing any heavy work – well, not just now,’ he added quickly as I started to protest. ‘I like gardening, as it happens, and I’ve only got a tiny little backyard in the place I’m renting at the moment.’
‘I wouldn’t put it about too much that you like gardening, or you might find yourself in demand right now,’ Nana said. ‘Have you heard about Nora?’
David shook his head, so I explained that everyone was annoyed that she hadn’t done the hanging baskets.
‘Oh, but you haven’t heard the latest, Sam,’ Nana said, looking serious now. ‘Irene next door knocked earlier and told me. Nora hasn’t done the baskets because she’s ill.’
‘She’s had long enough, though, hasn’t she? And apparently she’s taken people’s money.’
‘She was waiting for test results, Sam.’ Nana sighed. ‘I know she’s not everyone’s favourite person, but the fact is, the poor woman’s got cancer.’
‘Oh no! Poor thing, that’s awful.’ I immediately felt terrible for being so heartless.
‘Yes. She kept it quiet until she knew for sure. She’s got to have chemotherapy, and what with all the worry about it … well, the baskets haven’t been uppermost in her mind. She’ll be paying back everyone’s money. But we won’t have hanging baskets this year now. It’s too late, unless people just do their own.’
‘I’ll do one for you, Peggy,’ David said at once. ‘And your neighbour, if she likes. I could do them to match. I’d enjoy it.’
‘I’ll help you, then,’ I offered. I’d never planted anything in a basket in my entire life, but how hard could it be?
Needless to say, Nana was smitten by David, making several comments after he’d left about how charming he was, how helpful and what lovely manners he had. ‘Nice-looking, too, wouldn’t you say?’ she added with a twinkle in her eyes.
‘Yes. He’s nice,’ I agreed without thinking too much about it.
At least – unlike a certain other person – he didn’t make me feel cross, embarrassed or just downright confused.
However, despite my misgivings about working with Joe Bradley, my new job started well. Joe was his usual brusque and impatient self, apart from when he was dealing with the animals. By the end of the first day, I was fairly sure it wasn’t just me who thought he had some kind of split personality. The young nurse Natalie admitted to me quietly, after he’d snapped at her for no apparent reason, that he used to make her cry when she first started working for him.
‘But actually, you know, he’s really lovely when he’s not in a bad mood,’ she added, giving me a secret little smile. The poor girl had it bad. I wondered if she knew he was married.
My first opportunity to help him with a patient came sooner than I expected – during that first week, when Natalie had to leave early for a dentist’s appointment.
‘I shouldn’t have let her go,’ Joe said crossly. ‘She should have made the appointment half an hour later, then Val would be here to take over.’ Val was the other nurse, an older, no-nonsense woman who merely raised her eyes and shook her head when Joe had one of his snaps.
‘But it was an emergency,’ I reminded him quietly. ‘She’s had a terrible toothache. This was the only time the dentist could fit her in.’
‘We all have our problems,’ he retorted, and I wondered how on earth he could be so unsympathetic to human ailments at the same time as being so kind with animal ones.
He’d told me the patient he needed my help with was a cat being brought in for vaccination.
‘I’ve only treated this cat once before,’ he explained. ‘He needed an antibiotic shot and he fought me like a thing possessed. His owner couldn’t help because he has needle phobia.’ He shook his head as if the phobia was blatant stupidity on the part of the owner.
‘Oh dear,’ I said. ‘That’s unfortunate.’
‘Yes. Luckily Val was here on that occasion to hold the cat still. You’ll have to do it today. We’ll wear gloves.’
I found it hard to believe a little cat was really going to be such a problem, and when I looked at the appointment details on the computer, I nearly gasped out loud in surprise. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Surely there couldn’t be more than one cat in the village called KitKat!
‘Hello again!’ David said cheerfully when he arrived in the waiting room. ‘How are you settling in?’
‘Well, thank you.’ I smiled at him. ‘And I see you’ve brought KitKat for his vaccinations.’
‘Yes. Um – the only trouble is, I know it sounds daft, but I can’t go into the room with him.’
‘I know. Mr Bradley’s just explained about your … difficulty.’ I tried to suppress my smile.
‘It’s a real nuisance, but, well, I’d be no use to anyone if I passed out in a heap on the floor.’
‘Don’t worry. The nurse isn’t here, so I’m going to help Mr Bradley myself. Hello, KitKat.’ I crooned at the cat through the bars of his carrying cage. He was a large, long-haired black and white moggy and he was growling loudly in fear.
‘He’s normally a big lovable softie,’ David said. ‘But when I bring him through the door of this place, he undergoes a personality change.’
‘That’s perfectly understandable,’ I said. ‘Most animals are nervous at the vet’s.’
But even so, I had to admit KitKat was in a league of his own. As soon as I opened the cage to take him out, he backed into the corner of it, his back arched, hissing and spitting at me.
‘Come on, sweetie,’ I said, ‘we’re not going to hurt you.’
‘You’re going to need to be firmer,’ Joe said. ‘Look.’ And he reached into the cage himself, grasping the cat quickly and efficiently and putting him on to the table. KitKat was yowling loudly in protest, tossing his head from side to side trying to bite Joe’s arms. ‘Okay, hold his head very firmly with one hand and hold his back down with the other,’ he told me. ‘Got him?’
‘Yes.’ It was a struggle, but I was determined not to annoy Joe b
y letting the first animal I’d helped him with get the better of me.
‘Okay. Here goes. Don’t let him wriggle.’ He administered the vaccine smoothly and quickly and KitKat gave a further snarl of anger before I carefully lifted him back into the cage. ‘Thank you,’ Joe said. ‘Well done – easy with two of us. Not so much fun trying to jab an angry cat like this on my own.’
‘I can imagine. And his owner says he’s docile and lovable at home!’
‘Is that right?’ Joe looked at KitKat through the bars of the cage. ‘It’s just us that you show your nasty side to, is it, boy?’ he said gently. ‘Well, maybe you’re needle phobic like your owner!’ He smirked as he said this, and I reacted a little sharply in David’s defence:
‘Needle phobia must be quite horrible, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose so. It’s understandable in children, I guess, but in adults? Really?’
‘David might have had a nasty experience that left him nervous of it happening again,’ I said.
‘Oh, David, is it?’ Joe raised his eyebrows at me. ‘Friend of yours, is he?’
‘As it happens, yes.’ I didn’t bother to explain that actually I was only just getting to know him. ‘He’s a nice guy. Walks dogs for people in the village.’
‘Yes, I know. Pity he can’t seem to keep them under control. Well, go on, then, take David his cat back, then, and sort out his payment. I don’t think I’ll need you for the next patient, and hopefully Val will be here soon.’
I was dismissed, and the mood seemed to have changed between us again.
‘All done – he’s fine,’ I told David.
‘Thanks, Sam. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble?’
‘Not at all.’ I smiled.
Just as I was taking his payment, Joe came back out into the waiting room to see whether the next patient was here. David gave me a friendly nod and said, ‘See you later, then, Sam. I’ll pick you up after work.’ We’d arranged to go out together to buy plants for the hanging baskets. ‘And you must come and see KitKat at home some time. I want to prove to you that he’s actually a nice friendly cat most of the time!’
The Vets at Hope Green, Part 2 Page 5