Trust Me, I'm a Vet (37 page)

‘Do you want me to get you something?’ I say, trying to cover my confusion. It’s all very well confessing true love to an unconscious man, but it’s quite different when you discover he was awake at the time. He doesn’t mention it, maybe out of respect for my feelings. I doubt very much that he feels the same way about me.

‘Maz, I’ve had enough fuss for one day. I’ll be fine.’ Alex sits up against the head of the bed and pats the mattress. ‘Sit down and fill me in on all the gossip. No one will tell me anything.’

I perch on the end of the bed, facing him. He’s wearing pyjamas with a T-shirt style top. A few dark hairs curl across the base of his neck.

‘Don’t spare me any gory details,’ he says. ‘All I know is that I had a knock on the head, and a touch of concussion.’

‘Concussion? You were out cold for hours – no, days. It felt like a lifetime. I’ve been worried sick.’ I lower my voice. ‘You saved my life.’

Alex frowns. ‘Did I?’

‘I behaved like a complete idiot, rushing in without thinking.’

‘What about you?’ He looks at my bandages. ‘Your arms?’

‘It looks worse than it is,’ I say.

‘Gloria?’ Alex says. ‘What happened to Gloria? I can’t remember anything after . . .’

‘She died in the fire,’ I say quietly. ‘She set the cottage alight herself.’ She took a load of pills – Ginge’s included, it turns out, not that they would have had any effect on her – and lit several small fires with firelighters and paraffin. Even if I’d managed to get her out, they say she would probably have died from the overdose. ‘We saved most of her rescues, but the cottage was destroyed.’

‘Have they held the funeral yet?’ Alex asks.

‘I can find out.’

‘I’d like to go, if it hasn’t happened already.’

‘I’ll let you know,’ I say, feeling guilty that I hadn’t thought of Gloria’s funeral myself. Alex seems as upset as I was at Gloria’s demise. She was quite a character who touched both our lives in her own way.

‘I think that’s enough for now,’ Debbie interrupts. ‘You have to pace yourself, Alex – I’m worrying about how many more of your girlfriends will be calling in on you today.’

‘Maz isn’t my girlfriend,’ Alex says. ‘She’s my fiancée.’ He looks at me, chuckling. ‘That’s what she told you, wasn’t it, Debbie?’ He’s teasing me, I think, trying not to blush as he goes on, ‘Is it time for my bed bath?’

‘You should be so lucky,’ Debbie teases. ‘You’re big enough and ugly enough to use the shower yourself.’

‘When will you be back, Maz?’ Alex asks, turning back to me.

‘Um, I don’t know,’ I stammer. ‘Do you want me to . . .?’

‘Of course I do.’ He’s doing it again, I think. He’s back to his old self. ‘The novelty of daytime TV wore off in half an hour, and I can’t stand grapes.’

‘I hate to think we’re boring you,’ Debbie says, with mock severity, ‘but you’ve had a head injury. You can’t go home just yet.’

‘How long?’ I ask.

‘For as long as he behaves himself, and when he does go home, he won’t be running around the countryside sticking his arm up cows’ backsides and wrestling with sheep. He’ll be grounded for a week or two at least.’

Alex grasps my hand, interlinking his fingers through mine and giving them an affectionate squeeze. ‘Could you do me a favour?’

‘Depends on what it is,’ I say.

‘Don’t listen to him, Maz,’ Debbie says. ‘I’ve already told him he can’t have his horse brought in to see him.’

‘It isn’t that,’ he says. ‘Would you run into town and buy me a new mobile? My mother won’t let me have one. She doesn’t want me getting overexcited.’

‘I’ll bring it tomorrow.’ I hover at Alex’s bedside, not wanting to leave.

‘Go on, off you go.’ Debbie shoos me out, and I finally tear myself away, turning away to hide the tears of joy. I nip into the toilets to wash my face before I meet Frances out in the car park.

‘Can I borrow your phone?’ I ask as I get into her car. I want to let the whole world know that Alex is going to be all right, but I guess Emma and Izzy will do to start with.

‘Go ahead,’ Frances says, nodding to the outsize first- or second-generation brick of a mobile in the top of her handbag.

‘I’ll pay for the call,’ I say, remembering that poor Frances has been working the past three days without pay, a situation which I can’t allow to continue for too much longer. ‘Hi, is that you, Izzy? Great news.’ I try to sound cool about it, but really it’s the most fantastic, wonderful and unbelievable result. ‘He’s come round.’

Izzy sounds confused. ‘How did you know?’

‘Because I’ve just been talking to him.’

‘Harry?’

‘Alex.’

Izzy giggles. ‘I’m such an idiot sometimes. I’m so pleased. Harry’s awake too and fighting fit. He’s just tried to bite me, the little sod, I mean, sausage.’

I take Alex’s recovery as a good omen, and on our way back I persuade Frances to stop by at Gloria’s place to check on the trap. It’s empty and there’s no sign of Ginge, but I’m not going to give up until I know what’s happened to him.

‘“Vet’s Miracle Recovery” – I can see the headline now,’ Ally says, handing me a bottle of wine. ‘Two miracles in one day. Words can’t express how grateful I am,’ she goes on, which strikes me as a bit of a problem for someone whose livelihood depends on them. ‘I’m going to make sure everyone in town knows what you did. To think he could’ – her eyes fill with tears – ‘have been crushed alive.’

I hand over the shoebox across the consulting-room table. Harry gives me the evil eye when I open the lid to prove to myself, more than Ally, that he really is OK.

‘Do I need to bring him back for a check-up?’

‘Not unless you’re worried about him.’

‘I’m always worried about him. I tell you, I shan’t be leaving him in the garden shed overnight again. It must have been pretty chilly for June.’

‘What was he doing in the shed?’ I can’t believe someone as dotty about her hamster as Ally is would banish him from the house.

‘My other half’s threatening to divorce me. Harry keeps us awake all night, running on his wheel.’

‘Why don’t you take the wheel out?’ I suggest helpfully.

‘I couldn’t do that, poor thing. He loves his wheel. No, I’m going to buy a couple of pairs of earplugs.’ Ally smiles. ‘That way I’ll save Harry and my marriage. Maz, how can I repay you? Can I help with the animals you’ve rescued from the fire? Raise money for their care? Anything?’

‘You could adopt another hamster, or one of the other small furries.’

‘I don’t think I could stand the stress . . . No, Harry’s more than enough for me to cope with. Isn’t there anything else?’

‘Actually,’ I say, thinking of all those animals, including Raffles, Ugli-dog, Petra and Jude, who are out the back, desperately needing good homes, ‘there is something you can do.’

They don’t like being confined. I do a last round of Kennels the same evening, taking each dog out into the garden in turn – well, Raffles and Ugli-dog are happy to go out together, but I don’t risk taking Petra with any of the others. Now Emma’s back, I rather miss having Miff’s company in the flat. I’m tempted to let Raffles upstairs, especially when he looks at me with brown eyes filled with despair as I shut the kennel door on him, but that seems mean on the rest of them. I give them each a biscuit and leave the radio on low before I turn out the light.

‘Goodnight, guys,’ I say softly. It’s all quiet and I can relax at last, except for the persistent stinging sensation from the burns on my arms, and wondering how I’m going to persuade Emma to keep Otter House Vets open and what I’m going to do about Alex.

Chapter Twenty

A Breed Apart

‘Are you going to see Alex again?’ Emma says between consultations the next morning. She seems happier, I think. Perhaps she’s changed her mind about closing the practice down.

‘Can’t you tell?’ Izzy cuts in. ‘She’s put her slap on specially.’

‘Izzy! I said I’d drop a few bits and pieces in to him as I was going to be there anyway.’ You know that feeling you get when you’re about to blush and you can’t do anything about it? I’ve got it now. ‘I’m doing my bit for neighbourly relations, that’s all. I’ll see you later.’

‘Don’t forget you’re coming round to ours tomorrow night. I’ve told Ben to put a veggie cutlet on the barbie for you.’

‘I haven’t forgotten, Em. I’ll be there.’ I pause. ‘Are you feeling better?’

‘I am, thanks. I guess it’s a touch of Delhi belly,’ she says. ‘Go on then, angel of mercy. What are you waiting for?’

When I arrive at the hospital, I check in with Debbie.

‘Hello, Maz,’ she says. ‘I’m glad you’re here – you might be able to knock some sense into him. No one else can.’

Before I can ask her what she means, the phone on her workstation rings.

‘Go on through,’ she says, picking it up.

I find Alex clean-shaven and dressed in jeans and a casual shirt. He sits on the edge of his bed with a sports bag beside him.

‘Hi,’ he says, smiling.

I walk towards him, catching his scent of aftershave and mint toothpaste. The closer I get, the faster my heart beats.

‘I’ve brought you your stuff,’ I begin. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, but I’ve been tied up at Otter House since I saw you yesterday. I’m trying to stop Emma overdoing it – she hasn’t been well.’

‘It’s nothing serious, I hope.’

‘Ben was worried enough to suggest that they came home early.’

‘Emma’s very lucky to have you around to share the workload. I don’t know how my father’s coping on his own. I dread to think what’s been happening at the Manor, and I can’t sit here any longer, worrying about it, so’ – he catches my hand – ‘I want you to help me make my escape.’

Now I know what Debbie was getting at, I think, as he continues, ‘I can’t stand it here any longer. I want to get out in the fresh air, eat some decent food and sleep in my own bed.’

He looks over my shoulder. I turn to find Debbie listening in.

‘He shouldn’t be alone for the next twenty-four hours,’ she says, ‘and I’m warning you, he isn’t the easiest of patients.’

‘Please, Maz.’

‘I thought you’d have a queue of people lined up to take you home.’

‘You mean Eloise?’ He grins. ‘I didn’t think you’d be in the slightest bit bothered.’

‘I’m not,’ I say sharply, and he laughs, making me flush hot because he knows I’m lying.

‘You know, if you were a chocolate, Maz, you’d be a hazelnut whirl, one of those with the nut in the centre that you crack your teeth on.’

‘Thanks a lot.’ I try to sound arch and devil-may-care, but it comes out flat because I’m not really like that. I do have a soft centre but, since Mike, I keep it buried deep inside.

‘So you’ll do it?’ Alex says. ‘At least give me a lift home and stay with me until my parents get back from London.’

I’ll do it, but out of the purest of motives – because I owe him for saving my life.

‘OK then,’ I say, giving in. ‘I’m off for the rest of today.’

‘Great,’ Alex says, standing up from the bed. I notice how he puts out his hand momentarily to steady himself. ‘I’ve been lying down for too long,’ he says, when Debbie and I rush to help him, one each side.

‘Alex, I wish you’d change your mind,’ Debbie says. ‘Another day won’t hurt.’

‘I’ll be fine. Maz’ll look after me.’

I didn’t make a very good job of it the last time, I think, when he picks up his bag. He links one arm through mine, and we walk together side by side out through the corridors and into the sunlight.

‘Did you get that mobile for me?’ he asks as soon as we’re clear of the hospital buildings. ‘I need to check up on Liberty.’

I dig it out of my bag and hand it over. ‘I did call Westleigh and she’s doing well, according to John,’ I say, but Alex insists on phoning himself to find out every last detail, down to Liberty’s temperature, pulse and respiratory rate, on the way to my car.

I unlock it and open the doors, then watch Alex fold himself up and slide into the passenger seat.

‘There isn’t much room in here,’ he comments. ‘What do you do with all your kit?’

‘There’s space for a visit case – that’s all I need. Anyway, it means I don’t have to carry the hairy, incontinent or bleeding in the back. Where are we going?’

‘Up to the Manor. I don’t live in the main house – that’s my father’s domain. I live in the barn.’

‘A barn?’ I have a vision of Alex and his horse eating breakfast over a bale of straw.

Alex grins. ‘It’s a conversion. My mother sometimes threatens to take it back to store extra hay for the horses.’

‘Silly me,’ I say.

‘Maz, it’s one of the things I like about you, your ditsiness.’ He reaches out and runs his fingers lightly across my hand, as I change gear. ‘That’s a compliment, by the way.’

‘Thanks,’ I say, driving on.

‘I’m sorry,’ Alex says suddenly. ‘I shouldn’t have imposed on you.’

‘I don’t mind.’

‘You must have far better things to do with your time.’