A Country Affair (2 page)

Stephie, as was to be expected at moments of crisis, was answering the phone. She clapped her hand over the receiver and shouted, “The water! Throw it on them!”

Kate, too stunned to react for a moment, suddenly galvanized herself, grabbed the bucket and emptied the entire contents over the two dogs. The Airedale leaped back, shook itself free of the water, looked up at Kate and . . . well, he laughed at her. There was no other way to describe his expression: His tongue was lolling out of his open mouth, his eyes were bright with pleasure, his tail wagged furiously. She’d never seen a dog grin before, and it gave her the distinct impression he found the whole incident very amusing indeed.

Outraged, she said in a loud voice, “Who owns this dog? Because you’re not keeping it under control. Please do so immediately.” She glared around the waiting room, in her panic and anger not noticing the deathly hush that had descended.

The old man with two cats volunteered, “It’s not none of ours. It’s Perkins, Mr. Price’s dog. Adolf and ’im are mates.” This brought a chuckle from the regulars.

“Mr. Price?”

“Your Mr. Price.”

Kate blushed. Stephie got off the phone, took Perkins by the collar and led him down through the back, muttering threats as she went. Joy emerged with a bucket and mop. “Mop up, there’s a dear; we don’t want anyone slipping on that water. Sorry about that, everybody. You all right, Mr. Featherstonehough?”

Adolf’s owner exploded. “How many times have I asked you to keep that blasted dog under control? You know I bring Adolf every first Monday for his injection and this happens every single time. You even have the water ready, so you do know what day it is. I shall be complaining to the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons about this and don’t think I won’t because I shall. I’ve threatened before but this time I mean it. I know my rights. I shall sue your Mr. Price for every damned penny he’s got if my Adolf gets hurt. This is just once too often, this is.”

“Mr. Featherstonehough, I can’t understand how Perkins knows you’re here. He was upstairs in Mr. Price’s apartment, safely shut away, and then somehow he realized you were here. And you know it does take two to make a fight, and Adolf does his share . . .”

A consulting room door opened and a gruff Northern voice called out, “Mr. Featherstonehough, please? Good morning, Adolf. Been knocking hell out of Perkins again, have you? Do come through.”

Kate mopped up the water and went into the laundry to empty the mop bucket down the sink. Joy came through with a tray of mugs in her hands. “Thanks for that. Coffee time—take the weight off your feet. Here you are.”

The coffee tasted wonderful, but as she drank it, Kate’s conscience surfaced. “What about Stephie? Shall I go and relieve her?”

“We’ll both go; you can’t be by yourself, not yet. Take your mug, but if Mr. Price comes through, hide it. He doesn’t like us drinking on duty—looks unbusinesslike.”

Mr. Price, senior partner and lord of all he surveyed, did come through reception on the way to taking his orthopedic clinic, and he did see her drinking and reprimanded her for it, and made her feel knee high to a teaspoon and wishing the floor would open up. But of course it didn’t, and Stephie heard the tail end of the conversation and sniggered. “Tut! Tut! How sad! On your first day too.”

Kate ignored her uncharitable comment. “That’s the great Mungo Price, is it? I’ll never learn to put all the names to faces.”

“You will, given time. But he’s the one to watch. Old Hawkeye, I call him. Isn’t he gorgeous, though? So suave, so sophisticated. He can ask eighty pounds for an orthopedic consultation. And that’s just the consultation, never mind the operation, or the drugs, or X-rays, or the repeat visits. I can’t even earn that in a day. Some people!”

“I expect he’s worked hard for years to get where he is.”

Stephie shrugged her shoulders. “Even so . . . Talking of working hard, I saw your CV. With A levels like yours, what you doing working here?”

“Ah!” Kate thought quickly. “Always wanted to work with animals. Bit mushy, I know, but there you are.”

Stephie bent her head to one side and, looking quizzically at Kate, said, “Seems a funny thing to me.”

“Well, why are you here? You must like animals just like I do.”

Stephie shrugged her shoulders. “’Suppose I must. It’s the smells I can’t stand and as for being a nurse? All that blood! God help us, not likely.”

“But that really is the sharp end, where it all happens.”

“You sound a bit wistful to me. Why don’t you be a nurse? The pay’s not brilliant so they’re always crying out for them.” Stephie began shuffling her papers about, in preparation for leaving. “Anyway, I’m off for lunch, back at four. I hate split shifts. Too far to go home, really, too long to spend wandering around the shops; it only makes me buy things. Still, it’s better than where the practice was before: at the back of nowhere. At least you feel at the hub of things here. Not a bad town once you get to know it. I’ll be glad when the new shopping mall’s finished; they say all the big stores will be there. Your mum and dad coming Saturday?”

“For the opening? Possibly.”

“They’ll like to see where you’re working, won’t they?”

“Have a nice afternoon.”

“Thanks. We’ll go through the accounts tomorrow. Can’t afford to let them slip; otherwise it’s hell. See yer!”

Kate watched her disappear through the big double doors. Funny girl. Nice one minute, nasty the next. Unpleasantness was one thing she hated and the conversation she’d inadvertently overheard when she’d first arrived had been unpleasant to the nth degree. She hadn’t asked Dad and Mia yet, and rather guessed they wouldn’t want to come. Not after the fuss Dad had made when she’d taken the job. She’d ask when she got home, the moment she got in the door.

D
AD’S
car was in the drive; he was home early. Kate glanced at her watch—half past four; that was definitely early for him. She pushed down the door handle, which was slack and didn’t always work at the first go, and wished for the umpteenth time that her dad would get around to mending it.

“It’s me!” Kate flung her bag down on the hall chair and went into the kitchen. With her eyes shut she could have done a painting of that kitchen scene because it was so familiar. The kitchen table under the window with its blue-and-white checked cloth and its bowl of flowers. Dad lounging in his rocker by the side of the range, the stub of a cigarette in his mouth, his jacket lying on a kitchen chair. Lost in thought, his pale, fleshy slab of a face turned upward as though seeking heavenly inspiration, light-blue eyes focused on nothing at all, his stockinged feet thrust against the bottom of the range snatching at the warmth it generated and, without looking up, his muttered “You’re back, then.”

Even more predictable was Mia: thin, almost to the point of emaciation, seated on the special wooden kitchen chair she used when she was working. Mia raised her eyes, glazed with concentration, to look at her. “Kate! Sit down. I want to hear all.” Putting down the tiny brush she was using, she sat back to study her work. It was a miniature painted from a photograph of a pretty girl, a present for the girl’s twenty-first. Kate, always genuinely full of admiration for Mia’s delicate skills, said, “Why, Mia! That’s wonderful! She’ll be delighted. So lively!”

“Kiss! Kiss! Please.” Mia hooked her arm around Kate’s neck to make sure her kiss reached its target. “Glad you like it; I think it’s one of my best. There’s such a glow about her, isn’t there? Do you think I’ve captured it? I do. Such a zest for life, and I’ve caught the color of her hair just right. Tea’s still hot. Pour me a cup too, and we’ll listen to your news, won’t we, Gerry? How did it go?”

“Absolutely brilliantly! I don’t think I have had a more fantastic day in all my life. So interesting!”

“The staff, what are they like? Nice girls?”

“There’re two Sarahs—they’re nurses—and a round, plump one called Bunty. Two receptionists: Stephie Budge and Lynne Seymour, besides me. The senior receptionist—well, practice manager, I suppose—is called Joy. She was the one who interviewed me and she’s lovely, but she does have a steely backbone when necessary, I think. I’ve met Mr. Price and got told off . . .”

“Trust you.” This from Gerry.

“Gerry! What a thing to say. Kate’s not like that. Go on, love, take no notice.”

Accustomed to her father’s diminishing remarks to her, Kate ignored him. “He is so superior. He can charge eighty pounds a consultation. Just think!”

“That could be you.”

“Don’t talk daft, Dad. He’s Dr. Price, really, and he trained for years and years.”

“You could have. With your ability.”

“Give it a rest, Gerry.” Mia reached across, patted Kate’s leg and gave her a wink.

“I met this Australian called Scott, but his real name is Errol.”

Gerry grunted. “Right wimp, he sounds.”

“You should see him, Mia. Talk about drop-dead gorgeous!”

Mia giggled.

“He’s a vet.”

“Just what you should have been.”

Both Kate and Mia disregarded Gerry’s comments.

“I met Graham Murgatroyd, Rhodri Hughes and Zoe Savage. They’re vets but there’re others I haven’t seen today. It’s all so exciting, I can’t believe how much I’ve enjoyed myself.”

“You’d have enjoyed yourself a lot more if you’d done like I said.”

“Look, Dad . . .”

“Gerry! Will you give it a rest. It’s Kate’s life not yours.”

Gerry sat up, threw his cigarette stub on the range and said, “Did I or did I not
beg
her to take that A level again and reapply? She’s wanted to be a vet all her life and one stumble, just one little stumble”—he measured the stumble between his thumb and forefinger—“and she throws in the towel.” Gerry launched himself out of his chair. “If I had my way . . .”

“Dad! I did warn you that the school wasn’t geared for teaching to a standard that would get anyone three A’s even though it’s easier now. I did say. So it’s no good going on about it. If I’d stayed there ten years, I still wouldn’t have got them.”

Gerry wagged a finger at her. “Ah! But you’ll soon have that money your Granny Howard left you. You could go private and pay for tuition.”

In the past, Kate’s immediate reaction to her father’s ideas for furthering her career was flatly to deny them any merit, so she opened her mouth to do exactly as she had always done and then shut it again.

“See! I knew it! You have to admit it’s quite an idea.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s no better than all the rest of your ideas. I can’t help but remember when I was working all hours studying you saying to me that nothing on earth was worth all that devotion. You’ve certainly changed your tune. Not only have I a full-time job but now you’re expecting me to study too. Well, believe you me, I’ve had it up to here with studying and I’m not going to do any more, so that’s that.”

“You’re a fool! One bit more extra push and you’re there. A lifetime’s ambition fulfilled! I’d be so proud of you. To say nothing of your satisfaction.”

Mia stood up. “Think about it, Kate. No good finding when you’re thirty that your dad was right all along and it’s all too late.”

“Oh, my word! My dear wife’s agreeing with me! That’s a first.” Gerry disappeared upstairs, calling, “I need something to eat if anyone can spare the time.”

Mia began to clear away her painting.

Kate studied the miniature Mia was about to put safely away to dry. “It’s lovely, Mia, really lovely.”

Mia smiled at her and reached out to place the palm of her hand softly on Kate’s cheek, saying, “Thank you, Kate. You’re my very dear girl. I love you very much and I’m glad you enjoyed yourself today.”

Kate got up to get out the knives and forks from the kitchen table drawer. It wasn’t possible, was it, that her dad could be giving good advice for once? “You think he could be right, don’t you?”

Mia nodded. “Think about it. It means another year of waiting but think of the rewards if you . . .” She hesitated a moment to choose her words, not wishing to cause hurt. “If you win through, it’s worth a try. You’ve already been accepted; it is only a question of improving your grades. Then you’d be wearing the white coat.”

“I see what you mean. I will think about it, but only because you think it’s a good idea. Perhaps I have given up too easily, too quickly. Do we need spoons?”

“Yes.” Mia busied herself with the casserole that had been slowly cooking for most of the afternoon. She gave it a stir, added some cream and put it back in the oven. “Adam rang, by the way.”

Kate’s heart sank.

“He rang at lunchtime and again about an hour ago. He says he’s coming around to hear how you got on. I told him to wait until we’d eaten. I thought you might need your meal in peace.”

Gerry, reaching the bottom of the stairs as Mia told her about Adam, said, “Nice boy, that. Solid; good, steady job; you could do worse.”

Kate snapped back at him, “Make up your mind, Dad; I can’t marry Adam and go to vet college, can I?”

“True, true, but . . .”

“No buts, I can’t.” Kate contemplated marriage to Adam as she got the plates out of the warming oven and saw the years unfolding before her. The regulation two children, one boy one girl; the nice house on the nice road; the routine, the mind-numbing routine of Adam’s life. The discussion of how close to the main entrance his current parking space was, of his desk and the quality of the chair he’d been allocated. Next year, perhaps, when they refurbished the office, he’d get a bigger, better one, then he’d know he was finally going somewhere. The ritual of the Sunday pub lunch; it’s Tuesday so it’s his tenpins bowling night; no, he couldn’t go swimming because his sinuses were acting up—the terrible shattering monotony of a future like that.

Almost instantly a picture of Scott bunching his fingers and kissing them as he’d left her and Joy that morning came into her mind’s eye. Catch Adam doing it. He’d dismiss a gesture like that as flamboyant Continental nonsense. How had she ever come to be involved with him? Well, she knew, really; she didn’t need to ask. Because he’d been convenient, because he had money and she had only the money she earned on Saturdays working in the office at Apex Costings PLC and in the caf in Weymouth in the summer holidays. Because she hadn’t time for emotions when she was working so hard at school. Because he was comfortable, like an old glove, and didn’t demand anything of her. Because he was there and he was loyal in a kind of dumb-animal sort of way. Kate sat at the table.