St Piran's: The Fireman and Nurse Loveday (9 page)

Joey and Flora sat down at the kitchen table, and Tom brought in the meal.

‘Chicken with cream and asparagus sauce. I’m impressed.’

‘The sauce is from a packet,’ Tom admitted with a smile. ‘Joey, I take it you want ketchup with yours rather than my sauce?’

The little boy nodded.

Pudding turned out to be ice cream, out-of-season raspberries, and choc-chip cookies. ‘Shop-bought, I’m afraid,’ Tom confessed. ‘I know they’re not up to your standard.’

‘They’re still lovely, though—thank you. And I insist on doing the washing-up.’

Tom made them both a coffee, then ran a bath for Joey
while Flora made a start on the washing-up. She could hear a ‘Hang on, I need to check it’s not too hot before you get in—OK, safe now. Are there enough bubbles in there?’ There was the sound of splashing, and then Tom reappeared, looking a bit damp.

‘Joey’s sense of humour,’ he said.

She just laughed.

He came to stand behind her, wrapped his arms round her waist, and kissed the skin at the edge of the neckline of her top. ‘You’re adorable.’

‘You’re not so bad yourself, Tom Nicholson.’ She twisted round slightly so she could kiss him. ‘And that was a gorgeous meal.’

‘Chicken, baked potatoes and vegetables? It wasn’t exactly posh. Cooking isn’t my strong point, but I’m trying.’

‘It tasted good and it was a balanced meal,’ she said. ‘You’re doing just fine.’

He kissed her again, then released her and picked up a tea-towel so he could start drying up. By the time they’d finished, Joey was ready to come out of the bath.

‘Can I read you a bedtime story?’ Flora asked.

Joey smiled, looking pleased, and found a story about a dog.

Tom joined them, sitting on the end of Joey’s bed while Flora read. When it came to the part in the story where the dog talked, Tom did the voices and Joey’s face lit up.

Flora kissed the little boy when she’d finished. ‘Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well.’

Tom tucked his nephew in, and kissed him too. ‘Goodnight, Jojo. See you in the morning.’ Quietly, they left the room; she noticed that Tom left the door ajar and the landing light on.

‘He gets bad dreams if it’s dark,’ Tom said. ‘I put a nightlight on when he’s asleep, but he likes the light on in the landing while he’s falling asleep.’

‘Bless him.’

‘Do you have to go yet, or will you come and sit with me for a while?’ he asked.

‘I’ll stay,’ she said.

He smiled, switched the light over from the main overhead lamp to an uplighter, and put some very quiet music on the stereo.

‘I like this,’ she said.

‘It’s good stuff to chill out to,’ Tom told her. He scooped her onto his lap and kissed her; Flora, instead of worrying that she was squashing him, nestled closer, enjoying the closeness.

‘I was touched that Joey made that card for me,’ she said.

‘He made the same one for me,’ Tom said. ‘When I opened it, I was so choked, I could hardly speak. And he actually let me hug him to say thank you.’

‘It sounds as if he’s made a decision to let you close.’

‘I hope so. And he held my hand on the way to school today.’ He paused. ‘He said you told him he had to hold your hand between the car and school so you knew he was safe.’ He swallowed hard. ‘He said he wanted to know I was safe, too.’

‘Oh, Tom—that’s great.’

‘If it hadn’t been for you and Banjo I’d still be struggling. It’s your warmth that’s helped him open up to me,’ he said. ‘So I owe you.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’

‘Are you sure about that? I was kind of hoping to pay you in kisses.’

She smiled. ‘Tom, you don’t have to pay me.’

‘Spoilsport,’ he teased. ‘Let me ask you another question.’ He pulled her slightly closer and whispered in her ear, ‘Will you be my Valentine, Flora Loveday?’

There was a huge lump in her throat; it was the kind of
question she’d never thought anyone would ask her, much less a man as beautiful as Tom Nicholas. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

In answer, he kissed her. The kiss deepened, became more demanding, and, the next thing she knew, they were lying full length on the sofa, his body pressed against hers and leaving her in no doubt that he was aroused.

‘I’m not going to push you into anything,’ he said softly, his hand gliding along the curve of her bottom. ‘I just wanted to lie with you in my arms.’ He nudged the neckline of her top aside and rested his cheek against her shoulder. ‘You smell of roses and vanilla. It makes me hungry.’

‘What, after all the ice cream you ate tonight?’ she teased.

He laughed. ‘You make me hungry, Flora. And being with you… I don’t know. You make me feel different. In a good way.’

They lay there quietly together, just holding each other and listening to the music. When the album finished, Tom went to check on Joey. ‘He’s asleep, bless him. I’ve just put his nightlight on.’

Shyness washed over Flora. ‘I guess I ought to be going. Banjo needs his walk.’

‘OK. Ring me when you get home, so I know you’re home safely?’

It felt strange that someone was concerned about her; she was so used to just getting on and doing things by herself. It warmed her, too. ‘Sure.’

‘Before you go.’ He handed her an envelope. ‘Open it later.’

A Valentine’s card? she wondered. She fished the card from her bag and handed it to him. ‘For you,’ she said shyly.

‘Great minds think alike, hmm?’ He kissed her lightly. ‘Thank you, honey.’

‘Open it later,’ she said, not wanting him to open it in front of her.

‘OK.’ He paused. ‘I’m doing show-and-tell with Joey tomorrow.’

‘I thought you had a day off?’ she asked, surprised.

‘I am, but I’m still going to be there with the crew. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And I was wondering if you might be free for lunch tomorrow?’

It was a busy day, with surgery in the morning and then a postnatal class in the afternoon. ‘It’d have to be a really quick one,’ she said.

‘Great—how about a picnic on the beach if it isn’t raining?’ He smiled. ‘And we’ll eat the picnic in my car if it’s wet.’

‘That’d be lovely.’

He kissed her goodbye at the door, his mouth sweet and soft and tempting. Desire and need flowed through her, and she kissed him back lingeringly.

When she got home, unable to resist any longer, she opened the envelope. The front of the card had a cartoon of a bee that had obviously flown in a heart shape, with the words ‘bee my honey’ written in the heart. Inside, Tom had written ‘My adorable Flora’ and signed it with two kisses. That was Tom all over, she thought: jokey and charming on the outside and keeping all the deep emotion inside.

She called him. ‘I’m home.’

‘Good. Did you open the card?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was it OK?’

‘It was lovely, Tom.’ She bit her lip. ‘Sorry mine was a bit, well, drippy.’

‘No. It was sweet. Like you.’ His voice grew husky. ‘Next time I eat a chocolate, I’m going to think about kissing you.’ Heat spread through her at his words. ‘See you tomorrow, honey.’

Her surgery the next morning was as she’d expected, apart from her ten-o’clock appointment, fifteen-year-old Emmy Kingston, who really should’ve been at school. ‘Can Shelley stay with me?’ Emmy asked, gesturing to her friend.

Emmy was guarding her stomach and the way she was standing made Flora think the worst. It wasn’t her place to judge, but if her suspicion was right then the poor child would need all the support she could get. ‘If you want her to stay with you, then that’s fine.’

Emmy looked relieved, and accepted Flora’s invitation to sit down.

‘Tell me about it,’ Flora said. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I’ve done something really stupid, and my parents are going to kill me.’ Emmy bit her lip and a tear rolled down her face. ‘I should’ve said no but I… It’s so hard. And you’re going to think…’

Flora reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m not going to think
anything,
sweetheart. I’m a nurse, and my job is to help you.’

‘And you won’t tell my mum and dad?’

‘Your appointment is absolutely confidential,’ Flora reassured her. ‘It’s between you and me, unless I think you’re at risk of being hurt or abused. The important thing is that you’re protected, OK?’

Another tear rolled down Emmy’s cheek.

‘Show her, Em,’ Shelley said, patting her shoulder.

Gingerly, Emmy lifted up her top to reveal—not quite what Flora had expected. The girl had a pierced navel and the area around the piercing was bright red and swollen; there was a yellowish discharge from her belly button.

‘That looks really painful,’ Flora said. ‘How long has it been like that?’

‘I had it done on Saturday. Mum and Dad said I wasn’t allowed to, so I didn’t tell them I was doing it. I had a sleepover
at Shelley’s so they wouldn’t see.’ Emmy’s voice wobbled. ‘I wish I hadn’t done it now.’

‘It looks to me as if it’s infected. It’s quite common to get a bacterial infection with a piercing—have you managed to keep it dry over the last three days? ‘

Emmy nodded. ‘That’s what the piercer said, don’t wash it even with salt water or it might get infected. I did everything he said.’

‘You’ve just been a bit unlucky,’ Flora said. ‘I want to take your temperature—sometimes these infections can turn really nasty, and I want to be sure you’re not developing septicaemia or something really scary. Is that OK?’

Emmy gave her consent, and Flora checked the girl’s temperature. ‘The good news is that we’ve caught the infection in time—your temperature’s fine. You’ll need some antibiotic cream to clear up the infection and stop it hurting, and if it doesn’t start getting better by Friday you’ll need to come back and see the doctor to get some antibiotic tablets.’ She quickly tapped information into the computer. ‘Try not to touch your belly button or pick at it, in the meantime.’

‘It hurts too much to touch it,’ Emmy said ruefully.

‘Antibiotics will help with that,’ Flora reassured her. ‘It might be worth taking some paracetamol as well. Dr Lovak will sign the prescription for you when he’s seen his next patient, if you don’t mind waiting in the reception area for a few minutes?’

Emmy exhaled sharply. ‘So it’s going to be all right?’

‘Yes.’

‘See? I told you,’ Shelley said, hugging her shoulders.

‘And you’re not going to tell my mum?’

‘No,’ Flora said, ‘but I think you should.’

Emmy shook her head. ‘I can’t. Mum will go
mad.’

‘When you came in,’ Flora told her gently, ‘the way you were standing and holding your tummy, I thought you might
be pregnant. I wouldn’t mind betting your mum’s thinking the same thing and she’s worried sick about you—especially as my guess is that you’ve been avoiding her since Saturday.’

‘I have,’ Emmy admitted, biting her lip.

‘Then talk to her tonight,’ Flora advised quietly. ‘Yes, she might shout at you for going against her wishes, but she’ll want to know that you’re all right.’

‘She’ll make me take it out.’

‘That’s not a good idea until the infection’s cleared up—it needs to be able to drain and make sure that an abscess doesn’t form. You can always tell her to ring me if she wants some reassurance,’ Flora said.

Emmy’s lower lip wobbled. ‘Thank you so much.’

Flora patted her shoulder. ‘A couple more days and you’ll feel a lot better, I promise. But if you don’t, come back and see Dr Lovak. We’re here to help you, not shout at you or judge you, OK?’

‘OK.’ Emmy rubbed the tears away with the back of her hand, and let her friend shepherd her out to the reception area.

Flora had just seen her last patient and was finishing typing up her notes when her phone beeped. It was a text from Tom:
‘Am in the car park whenever you’re ready.’

‘On my way’,
Flora texted back, and went out to meet him.

He greeted her with a kiss.

‘How did show-and-tell go?’ she asked.

‘Unbelievable.’ Tom’s eyes glittered. ‘I actually saw Joey nudge the boy next to him and say, “That’s my Uncle Tom.” He sounded really proud.’

‘That’s because he
is
proud of you, Tom.’ She hugged him. ‘Well done, you.’

‘How was your morning?’ he asked.

‘Busy, but good.’

He kissed her again. ‘When do you need to be back?’

She glanced at her watch. ‘In forty-five minutes.’

‘Right—beach it is.’ He drove them down to the car park by the beach; he had a picnic rug in the back of the car, along with a flask of hot chocolate and a bag from the deli containing sandwiches and fruit.

Flora enjoyed just being with him, having a leisurely lunch and then sitting on the rug with his arms wrapped round her, listening to the sea and the shrieks of the gulls.

‘This is a perfect day,’ he said softly, resting his cheek against her hair. ‘Being with Joey this morning, and being with you right now. And you’re definitely the silver lining in the school fire—I wouldn’t have met you, if it hadn’t happened.’ He drew her closer. ‘And I’m really glad I’ve met you, Flora.’

‘I’m glad I’ve met you, too.’ With Tom in her world, everything seemed so much brighter. Crazy—and no way would she admit that to him, not yet—but it was true. Tom made her feel special. As if she mattered.

‘So when am I going to see you again?’ he asked when he’d driven her back to the surgery.

‘I have tomorrow off, if you want to do something.’

He looked sombre. ‘Could I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

‘The other day, you said you’d help if I wanted to go through Susie’s things.’

‘And I meant what I said. Of course I’ll help.’ She stroked his face. ‘Are you sure you’re ready for it, Tom?’

‘No, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready,’ he admitted, ‘but it has to be done.’

‘It’s better to do it with someone else,’ she said softly. ‘I had help and it got me through one of the hardest days ever.’

He hugged her. ‘Thank you. Can I pick you up when I’ve taken Joey to school?’

‘Absolutely.’ She kissed him. ‘And, Tom?’

‘Yes?’

‘Try not to brood about it. Yes, it’ll be tough, but you won’t be on your own. See you tomorrow.’

O
N
W
EDNESDAY
morning, Tom picked Flora up after he’d taken Joey to school, looking very sombre. For once, his car stereo was silent, and the grim set of his jaw told Flora that he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, either.

He parked outside one of the cottages near the cliffs, and she noticed his hand was shaking as he opened the front door. He took a deep breath when he stepped inside, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. ‘I hate this. It feels so wrong.’

‘I know.’ She took his hand and held it, willing him to take strength from her nearness.

‘Clearing out their house makes everything seem so final.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I suppose I was leaving it in the hope that it was all a bad dream and they’d come back—but they’re not coming back, are they?’

‘No, Tom, they’re not,’ she said, as gently as she could.

‘It’s such a waste. Such a bloody waste. There are people out there who hurt others, who lie and cheat and make people miserable, and they seem to swan through life without any worries. And people like my sister and her husband, people who were kind and always helped others…’ He shook his head in anguish. ‘It’s not fair. Why did they have to die?’

There was no answer to that. All she could do was hold his hand.

A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘OK. I’m pulling myself together. Let’s do this.’ Then he looked completely lost. ‘How do you go about packing up someone’s life?’

This was something she could help with. Something she’d been through herself. ‘You think of the good times,’ she told him. ‘You keep the nice memories as you go. And you have boxes. One for things to go to the charity shop, one for things you want to keep—even if you’re not up to dealing with them yet, like photo albums—and one for things you’re going to throw out.’ She paused. ‘You don’t have to do it all at once, Tom. We can do just one room at a time, if it makes it easier on you.’

He shook his head. ‘It needs to be done, and I’ve organised for the council to come and take the furniture to help families that need rehoming.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Part of me thinks I ought to move in here and give Joey some continuity. But I just
can’t,
Flora. I can’t live here with all these memories. They’ll suffocate me.’

‘Joey will understand when he’s older,’ she reassured him. ‘He has a new life now and it’ll be easier for him to get used to that if he lives with you away from here.’

He nodded. ‘We’ll do the hard stuff first. Bedroom.’

Flora helped him take the clothes out of the wardrobe and pack them into bags he was planning to take to the charity shop. ‘Maybe you could to keep something for Joey—his dad’s favourite sweater or his mum’s favourite dress,’ she suggested. ‘Something personal for him, for the future.’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’

Tom’s face was set. Grim. She knew this was ripping him to shreds inside, and yet he was trying so hard not to show any emotion.

The kitchen was next; it was easy to pack up, because there was nothing really personal there. Except for the outside of the fridge, photographs and postcards and little notes held on
with magnets. Tom stripped those and put them in the ‘deal with later’ pile.

When they started to pack up the living room, the strain was really etched on his face. Books, music, photograph albums… She could practically see the tension radiating from his body.

And then he picked up a photograph from the mantelpiece. His hand shook, and he dropped it; she heard a crack as the glass smashed. Reaching down to deal with it, Tom sucked in a breath, and she saw red blooming over his hand.

‘Kitchen. Now.’ She made him stand under the light so she could check the cut for fragments of glass, then cleaned the wound and put a pad on it. ‘Press on it. It’ll staunch the flow,’ she said. ‘And I’ll get rid of the broken glass.’

‘I’ll do it.’

‘Tom, I want you to sit there for three minutes, and that’s a medical order,’ she said, taking an old newspaper into the living room. She wrapped the broken glass in some newspaper, then turned the frame over. She could see why he’d dropped the frame; the photograph was of Tom himself, with his sister and Joey, looking incredibly happy.

Memories.

Sometimes the good ones were the ones that hurt you most. She’d found it hard to look at her parents’ photographs for the first couple of months, feeling the loss ripping through her again every time she saw them.

Gently, she removed the photograph from the broken frame and slid it inside one of the photograph albums to keep it safe. Then she wrapped up the broken frame and took the two parcels into the kitchen. ‘All done,’ she said quietly.

‘Sorry. It just…’ His voice caught.

She held him close. ‘I know. I’ve been there myself. Come on. I think it’s time we took a break. Let’s go back to mine for lunch.’

Back at the farmhouse, she took a jug of home-made vegetable soup from the fridge and heated it, then set it on the table along with cheese, butter and some rolls she’d bought at the bakery the day before.

Tom pushed his plate away untouched. ‘Flora, I’m sorry to be rude—I don’t think I can possibly eat.’

‘Yes, you can; and, yes, you will.’

‘I feel too choked.’

Remembering how Kate Tremayne had chivvied her, and how she’d appreciated it later, she refused to let him give in. ‘You need to keep up your strength, for Joey’s sake. Listen, Tom, I didn’t really know your sister, so I can’t imagine what she’d say in this situation—but if she loved you as much as you loved her, I’m pretty sure she would’ve wanted you to remember the good times and celebrate her, not mourn her.’

Tom dragged in a breath. ‘Yes, she loved me—even though I drove her crazy when I was a teenager. And I loved her. I would’ve done anything to spare her what happened, Flora. And Kevin—he wasn’t just an in-law I had to tolerate for Susie’s sake. I really liked him. You know they say you can’t choose your family? Well, he was the kind of bloke I would’ve chosen to have as my family.’

‘I know what you mean. But you still have Joey, and they’ll both live on in him,’ she said softly. ‘You’ll see them in his face as they grow up—and there will come a day, Tom, when you can talk to him about them without it hurting. You’ll be able to tell him how much they loved him and how proud they’d be of how he’s growing up.’

He closed his eyes. ‘Right now, it doesn’t feel like it.’

‘Of course not, because you’re not there yet. Trust me, it’ll come—you’ll still get days when you wake up and you know there’s a big empty space in your life and you want to howl, but it gets easier to deal with as time passes.’

He opened his eyes again and looked at her. ‘Is it like that for you?’

She nodded. ‘Sometimes one of my dad’s favourite records will come on the radio, or I’ll smell my mum’s perfume in a department store, and it still chokes me inside—but it’s getting easier. It just takes time and you need to be a bit less hard on yourself. Let people close to you, Tom, and they’ll help you.’

‘I do let people close to me.’

She said nothing, just stroked his face and gave him a sad little smile.

Tom thought about it later that evening. Was Flora right? Did he let people close to him? Or did he use all the terrible jokes and puns that were his stock-in-trade at work to keep people at bay?

The more he thought about it, the more he started to realise that Flora had a point. He
didn’t
let people that close. And, if he thought about it, he could trace it right back to when Ben had died. The first person he’d really lost, his best friend, and yet he’d never even visited Ben’s grave. He’d withdrawn a bit after Ben had died, until his mum had talked about taking him to see the doctor; and then he’d realised that if he didn’t start smiling and laughing, she really would take him to see someone. He hadn’t wanted that kind of fuss. So he’d started telling silly jokes, smiled all the time, and driven Susie to distraction with practical jokes. But he’d never really let anyone close again. He’d kept everything on the surface.

Which was one of the reasons he was struggling to be a stand-in dad to his nephew, because he didn’t have a clue what he was meant to do, how he was meant to feel.

And the more he thought about it, the more it worried him. Because he was starting to let Flora and Joey a lot closer than he was really comfortable with—and it scared him. Not
because he was scared of being close to them, as such, more because he was scared of letting them down in the worst possible way. His job was dangerous—and he knew firefighters who hadn’t made it. People who’d left grieving families behind.

Was that why he’d never let his relationships get too serious? And why he was struggling so hard to be a stand-in dad to Joey? Because he didn’t want to leave a gaping hole in people’s lives, and Joey had already lost so much?

He lay awake for a long, long time—and right at that moment he really could do with Flora in his arms. He needed her quiet strength, her warmth to comfort him. And that scared him even more. He’d never felt as if he’d needed a girlfriend before. He’d enjoyed female company, had fun with a carefree bachelor lifestyle…but this was different. Flora was nothing like the women he usually dated. She was quieter, more serious. She had depth.

And that made her incredibly dangerous. With her shy smile and her beautiful soft brown eyes and the sheer warmth she exuded—there was a real possibility that she could steal his heart. And break it.

Tom was still brooding about it on Thursday morning, when he dropped Joey at Flora’s for breakfast. And he brooded all morning through inspection and cleaning the equipment, until the Tannoy warbled.

‘Turnout, vehicle 54. Person fallen in river, Penhally Bay.’

This could be nasty, Tom thought. The cold snap had lasted a while now, so the water would be very cold and there was a real risk of the victim developing hypothermia. If the river was running swiftly, even if they managed to cling on to a branch or a rock, the current might pull them away and send them downstream,

He headed to the engine with the rest of the crew. Bazza
was in the driving seat and Steve was checking the computer. ‘It was called in by mobile phone,’ he said. ‘So details are a bit sketchy—hopefully they’ll call back with more information.’

Halfway to the village, Steve’s mobile rang. ‘Yup—uh-huh. Thanks.’ He ended the call. ‘It turns out it isn’t a person in the river, it’s a dog.’

Tom had come across this kind of thing before. ‘Please tell me the owner hasn’t tried to jump in and save the dog,’ he said.

‘No, the owner’s an elderly man. He was walking by the river when he slipped on the ice and fell. Apparently he might have broken his hip—the ambulance is on its way. When he fell, the dog plunged down the bank and ended up in the river. The poor guy’s frantic, but in too much pain to move.’

‘Hopefully we can rescue the dog before the paramedics whisk him off to St Piran’s,’ Tom said. ‘Walkway, ladder or rope, do you think?’

‘We’ll know as soon as we see it,’ Steve said.

Even without the co-ordinates, they would’ve been able to see the site straight away, as the ambulance was already there. As Tom got out of the fire engine, he could see the paramedics gently lifting an elderly man onto a stretcher. The man was clearly distressed, calling, ‘No, no! I can’t go until Goldie’s safe.’

Tom walked over to him. ‘I’m Tom Nicholson—and I’m going to rescue your dog,’ he said. ‘Her name’s Goldie?’

The elderly man was in tears. ‘She fell down the bank. It’s my fault. I slipped, and I caught her as I fell. She’s like me, not so steady on her pins.’ He choked on a sob. ‘She’s been in the water for ages. She’s too old to cope with it. I’ve killed her.’

‘No, you haven’t,’ Tom reassured him. ‘Dogs are far more
resilient than you’d believe. Hang on in there, and I’ll get her back for you.’

As soon he looked over the river bank, he could see that the elderly yellow Labrador was stuck against a branch and was clearly getting tired.

‘Has anyone called the local vet ready to treat Goldie when I get her out?’ he asked the crowd of bystanders.

‘I’ll go—they’re just round the corner,’ one man said.

‘Thanks. And if someone could get a towel or a blanket to wrap her in?’ He turned back to the crew. ‘I’ll go. It’s going to be quickest if you rope me. The dog’s too big for a tube—’ the crew had tubes they could scoop smaller animals into and lift to safety ‘—so we’ll get a rope round her, too, and I’ll lift her.’

Slowly, knowing that his crew had the rope and could stop him falling if he slipped, he made his way down the bank to the dog.

‘Goldie,’ he called softly, ‘hang on in there. I’ll get you back to your family.’ He knew the dog couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he hoped the tone of his voice would reassure her and calm her.

‘There’s a good girl. Not long now. I’m just going to put the rope round you.’ He’d just got the rope round her when there was a loud crack and the branch broke. The sound terrified the already frightened dog, who reacted by sinking her teeth into Tom’s arm.

It hurt like mad, but he swallowed the yell, knowing it would panic the dog even more and earn him a second bite. ‘OK, Goldie,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘There’s a good girl. Nearly there.’

The dog struggled in his arms, but he had her roped safely.

But, with his arms full of wet, tired, heavy dog, there was
no way he was going to be able to make it up the slippery bank on his own. ‘I’ve got her. Haul me up,’ Tom called up.

Slowly, slowly, the team hauled him up.

A flash popped in his face as he reached the top, the dog in his arms.

‘Oh, for pity’s sake,’ he said, frowning. ‘You can have your story in a minute. We need to get this dog treated, first.’

‘Absolutely right,’ Melinda Lovak, the local vet, said crisply. She crouched down and wrapped a towel round the shivering dog. ‘Well done for bringing her out,’ she said to Tom. Tenderly, she dried the dog. ‘Hello, Goldie. Not the best time of year to go for a swim, is it?’ she asked.

The dog looked slightly less frightened, clearly knowing the vet.

‘There’s a good girl,’ Melinda said softly. Swiftly, she checked the animal over. ‘Looks like you’re going to be fine after your dip. Let’s go and tell Bob, shall we?’