Paycheque (37 page)

‘Bernie. What? Slow down… What? Oh… And you're sure? Hang on a sec.' Claire grabbed the nearby pen and turned the phone book towards her. ‘Right, go ahead… Yes, I've got that. Thanks, that's great… Yes, I'll do it right now… Of course I'll let you know. Thanks, bye.'

‘Has Bernadette found another vet?'

‘Yes. I just hope he hasn't left for the day as well.' Claire stabbed the numbers into the phone while wondering where the time had gone. It was getting near six. No wonder they were exhausted.

‘Hello, I was wondering if I could speak to Dr Douglas – it's an emergency. Yes, I'll hold. Thanks. He's in a consult,' Claire, hand over the receiver, informed her father. After a few moments she sat down at the table and began doodling abstract geometric shapes around the phone number.

‘Dr Douglas? It's Claire McIntyre speaking. My friend David Balducci gave me your number. Yes, he's well. Look, we really need your help. One of our racehorses has had an accident. It could be a torn a tendon, or maybe worse… We really need a second opinion. The vet thought he should be put down.' Claire struggled to speak. Jack gently prised the phone from her tight grip.

‘Dr Douglas, Jack McIntyre here. The horse is very special to us. We don't care if he never races again, we just want to save him.' Jack paused, listening. ‘To be honest, sir, if you can help him, I don't care what method you use. But I'm afraid we're a little way away – in the Adelaide Hills… Thank you very much. We really appreciate it.'

Claire listened as her father gave precise directions.

‘Right,' Jack said, putting the phone down. ‘He'll be leaving in five minutes, once he's packed his things. We were lucky – he was with his last patient for the day.'

‘And he was happy to drive all the way up here?' Claire asked. What she really meant was:
And just how much will this cost?
She got annoyed with herself. What was a life worth?
Forget the money
, she told herself. Losing Paycheque could just destroy her father.
No matter what the cost, we'll find a way to pay it
.

Jack fiddled with the handle of his mug. ‘I need another cuppa. Want one?'

‘Yes, but I'll get it. You sit there and tell me what the vet had to say.'

‘Well not a lot. But apparently he's a holistic vet.'

‘A
what
vet?'

‘Holistic, prefers to use natural therapies.' Jack shrugged.

‘A quack. You've sent for a quack?'

‘Well he did say there was no need to put a horse down for a torn tendon. He's been successful treating them before, so that's something.'

‘What's he going to do?'

‘He said he wouldn't know until he did his diagnosis, but he did mention massage, pressure points, herbs. I guess we'll have to wait and see.'

‘Sounds dodgy to me. Did he say how much he charges?' Claire wanted to kick herself. She had only been thinking it, hadn't meant to actually say the words.

‘I don't know, Claire, and I don't particularly care. Anything is better than the bloke here earlier with the gun.'

‘I'm sorry, you're right. Let's just hear what he has to say. I wonder how David knows him. I guess we'll find that out in due course, too.' Claire put the mugs on the table.

There was a crunch of tyres on the gravel outside the window and the toot of a car horn. Claire looked up and saw Derek's BMW through the window. She got up and went to open the back door.

‘That was quick,' Claire said to Derek and Madeline.

‘Yep, declared her fit as a fiddle, didn't they Maddie?'

‘They reckon I must have bounced…'

‘Thank God you're okay,' Claire said, enveloping the wiry girl in a bear hug.

‘…because of all the bruises I have,' Maddie said, wincing and pulling away.

‘Sorry, I wasn't thinking.'

‘I'll survive. How's Paycheque?'

‘We're giving him some peace before the next vet arrives. Can I get you a cuppa, something to eat?'

‘Tea for me, thanks,' Derek said.

‘Could I have a Milo?'

‘Of course.' Claire deposited a large tin of bought fruitcake on the table and busied herself with organising the drinks.

‘You've found another vet. That's great news,' Maddie said.

‘Yes, in the city, a Dr William Douglas. Apparently he's holistic or something – into natural therapies. Some old friend of David's.'

‘Oh, I think I've heard of him,' Derek said. ‘ABC Radio interviewed him last year. “The first truly holistic veterinary practice in Australia”, I think they said.'

‘Claire's worried he's a quack,' Jack said.

‘From what I remember of the interview, he's a fully qualified traditional vet who's chosen to use natural remedies. Probably anything's better than that bloke who was here earlier.'

‘It'll be interesting to see what he says,' Jack said.

‘So, how does he know David?' Derek asked.

‘I have no idea,' Claire said.

‘I'm going to check on Paycheque,' Maddie said, getting up.

‘Finish your Milo and we'll all come with you,' Derek said. ‘You need to keep your strength up. He's not going anywhere.'

‘Your dad's right, Maddie, and the vet should only be another few minutes,' Jack offered. ‘Let's leave him in peace for a little longer.'

‘Have some cake,' Claire said, offering Derek the chopping board and knife.

Claire had devoured three thick slices of fruitcake and was feeling energised when she detected the crunch of tyres on gravel outside.

‘He's here,' she announced, leaping up from the table.

She was beside the faded orange Volvo station wagon when the driver – a tall, lean fellow with greying blonde hair poking from
beneath a pork-pie hat, stepped out and offered a large, smooth hand. Claire returned his firm grip. She found his calmness and the warm, concerned smile on his slightly lined face reassuring.

‘Dr Douglas? Thank you so much for coming,' Claire said, pumping the proffered hand in a tight double-handed grip. ‘You've no idea what it means. The other vet just wanted to put him down, but I just know he's going to be all right, he has to be. He's part of the family. If only you knew what…' She shut her mouth mid-sentence when the vet placed his left hand on her shoulder and quite literally pulled his right from her grasp.

‘Well let's see what we can do for him then, shall we?' The voice was quiet and calm, with a thick rolling Scottish lilt.

‘Yes, of course. I'm sorry,' Claire said, blushing. ‘It's been a very stressful afternoon.'

‘I'm sure. Now where is this wee horse of yours?' Dr Douglas looked about him.

‘This way,' Claire said, making to stride off.

‘I'll need to bring the car, if possible,' he called, staying put. ‘I've rather a lot of paraphernalia.'

‘Oh yes, of course. Straight ahead – stables are just to the right, in front of the large shed – you'll see them. I'll meet you there.' As she strode off, Jack appeared beside the vet.

‘Jack McIntyre. Thanks for coming so quickly,' he said, offering his hand.

‘No problem. I'll meet you over at the stables then, shall I?'

Jack, Maddie and Derek stood outside while Claire held Paycheque. The vet poked, prodded and moved the injured leg this way and that, before covering it with gel and running the portable ultrasound machine around the swelling. His deft, professional touch and constant soothing words of encouragement had Claire feeling comforted as well.

It seemed like an hour had passed when Dr Douglas packed up the
machine, gave the horse a pat and left the stable. All around him eyes were blinking expectantly.

‘You're going to have your work cut out,' he said to no one in particular, ‘but I can say with absolute certainty that there is no need to put this animal down.'

There was a collective exhaling of breath.

‘It's definitely a torn tendon, but I anticipate a full recovery.'

‘By full, you mean there's a chance he'll even race again?' Claire asked.

‘I think expecting him to be back on the track within three or four months is not beyond the realm of possibility.' The vet beamed.

‘Hear that, mate? You're going to be all right,' Claire said, throwing her arms around the horse's neck, causing him to throw his head up in surprise.

‘What's really important at this early stage is to keep the circulation going. I'm warning you: tonight is going to be especially gruelling – bandaging, unbandaging, massaging every hour. I'll need to show everyone who's going to be involved with his treatment the correct method and pressure points to work with.'

‘That'll be me and Claire,' Maddie said, stepping forward.

‘Count me in, too.' Claire was surprised and pleased to see Bernadette was back.

‘Actually I'd like to see, too,' Derek said.

‘David Balducci, how the hell are you?' Dr Douglas exclaimed, noticing David standing behind. They shook hands and gave each other a back slapping embrace.

‘Will Douglas. It's great to see you. Sorry I haven't been in touch much lately. Time sort of got away from me,' David said.

‘Aw, I'm as much to blame. Just let me get this sorted and I'll be with you.'

‘I'll go and check on the soup,' Jack said, ‘There's a pot of Claire's famous thick beef and veg heating as we speak. Come on David. I don't know about you, but I could murder a whisky or two.'

Claire served steaming bowls of soup accompanied by a loaf of sliced bread in its plastic bag. Her hands ached after the massage she'd given to Paycheque.

After the murmurs of gratitude, everyone became engrossed in conversation, eating, or both. Derek and Jack were rattling on about odds, racing form, and the results and track gossip from Saturday's fixture. David and Will were chatting earnestly about mutual friends – catching up, swapping anecdotes to bring Bernadette into the fold. Apparently they had known each other for some time, but lost touch when David moved to the Adelaide Hills. Maddie was silent – poor kid looked almost asleep in her chair, picking her way slowly through her meal. When they had finished, Claire collected the bowls with apologies that there was no more soup to offer.

Maddie looked at her watch and said it was time for Paycheque's next round of massage and bandaging. She offered to do it, and got up.

‘No, I will,' Claire said. ‘You need to rest. You look exhausted.'

‘I'm all right, really.'

‘Go to bed. You can do the early morning shifts.'

‘If you're sure?'

‘You had a fall, remember? Your body needs time to heal. Don't fight it.'

‘I'll wake up at five. I always do.'

‘Well that gives you about seven hours. You'll feel better then.'

‘I'm going to head over,' Claire said when Maddie had left the room. As she got up, she remembered that she didn't have her car. ‘Derek, can I ask a favour?'

‘Of course.'

‘Could you wait and run me home when I've finished?'

‘Sure. No problem.'

‘We'll head off,' Bernie said.

‘See you soon,' David said to Will.

‘I'll be along shortly, just going to make sure everything goes okay here,' Will told them. ‘I'm staying the night with David. That way I'll be able to check in again on my way back in the morning,' he said in response to Claire's perplexed frown. ‘Free of charge,' he added, as if reading her mind. ‘Wouldn't have caught up with David if it weren't for you – you know what we men are like!'