put the kettle on shall I ladies? I’m sure you won’t mind waiting a few minutes while Charlie sorts this urgent case out?’ Sally scanned the waiting room with a professional eye. ‘You can watch him in action of course.’ Serena glanced at her watch and made reassuring cooing noises at Twinkle who was growling in indignation.
‘Of course not, I do like to see a man in action.’ The owner of the cantankerous cat, who’d also got a cantankerous husband always loved an excuse to stay out of the house as long as possible.
Serena gazed admiringly. ‘You’ve got such sensitive hands, you really shouldn’t have to deal with such big, dangerous animals.’
Charlie stared blankly at the computer screen. Being cornered by a herd of rampaging bullocks was a safer bet than Serena and her Chihuahua.
‘Oh no, no, not at all, do you want a hand with the coffee?’ A slim woman in her thirties, who Charlie had never seen before, stroked a hand over her son’s head and looked down at the box he was clutching. This had to be the geriatric hamster, and from the look of discomfort on the woman’s face she was obviously expecting the worst – and was more than happy to put the moment of judgement off. The trouble with hamsters, Charlie knew, was that with a life span of rarely more than three years they had a habit of leaving grieving children in their wake. ‘Do you want to sit here with Mario, Harry?’ Harry nodded, and shooting Charlie a distrustful look clutched the box even tighter.
Another clatter of horseshoes on tarmac reminded Charlie that Jasper wasn’t going to be an easy customer. With a sigh he went into the operating room and sneaked out through the back door to examine his patient.
As he bent closer to make a preliminary check of the wound, Charlie was suddenly excruciatingly aware of a pair of bright pink wellingtons, which he could see out of the corner of his eye as Lucy edged closer. He was used to being observed, but this felt different, it was as though he was still back at college – trying to impress. He had to get a grip, this was ridiculous. What did it matter if she thought he was some uncooperative, incompetent idiot?
‘Is that the horse that tried to flatten me when I came for interview?’ She’d moved in so close he could smell her perfume again, which was far too disconcerting.
‘Oh you’re kidding?’ Holly put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh God, was it you in that cute little car by the pond?’
‘It was.’ Lucy stepped back abruptly as Jasper attempted a pirouette, and joined the rest of his clients who, keen for entertainment, had drifted out from the waiting room and were now lined up at a safe distance.
‘We’d just gone past those damned alpacas and one stuck its head through the fence and made faces at him, you don’t like those weird things do you honey?’ She kissed the end of Jasper’s nose and he threw his head in the air.
‘Let’s face it Holly, he doesn’t like much at all does he?’ commented Sally, who was standing nearby with a tray of sterilised equipment.
‘Is he okay with a hosepipe?’ Charlie had to concentrate on the job.
‘Oh yeah, sure, he’s bombproof.’
The bombproof animal whizzed around her and Holly hung on to his bridle as Charlie very slowly unwound the hosepipe.
The audience were to be disappointed. After a good clean up it was obvious that no stitching was required, and the amount of blood was due to the size of animal and location of wound rather than any serious problem.
‘That looks fine, Holly. I’ll just grab a twitch then we can tidy up that flap of skin.’
‘Oh he’ll be fine, I’ll hold his nose. He’s a gem, aren’t you?’ Holly kissed the ‘gem’ on the end of his nose and Charlie could see the whites of his eyes, as he shot him a warning look, followed up by a stamp on the ground in case the vet was in any doubt.
Charlie narrowed his eyes and studied the target, wondering just how quickly he could snip the skin off and dive to the side. At veterinary school he’d been told that commando style rolls could be seen as unprofessional, but he’d always thought that they had a place. Especially when the alternative was a horse’s hoof up your backside. He sneaked a glance up at Lucy, who was watching intently, and wondered if he really wanted to strike another self-inflicted blow at his manhood.
‘He hates a twitch, it makes him nervous.’
Snipping flaps of skin off un-anaesthetised equines made Charlie nervous.
Not giving himself time to think, he dived in and snipped decisively and was back on his feet before owner or animal had time to realise. There was a round of applause from his clients.
‘Excellent.’ Whatever you’re doing, it pays to do it bloody quick, one of his tutors had told him, apart from surgery of course. ‘I’ll give him a shot of antibiotic, and if you can keep it clean…’
‘Oh cheers, that’s super. I would have done it myself, but I was passing and thought I might as well pop in rather than ride him all the way home and then find out it was worse than I thought.’ She patted the horse. ‘Fab, give my love to Eric if you see him, and put it on Dad’s account will you Sal?’
Charlie would have liked to insist on payment now, as the small sign on the counter requested. The business had a serious cash-flow problem, which was largely due to well-heeled customers who didn’t feel the need to pay until absolutely necessary, and thrifty farmers who argued over every penny and asked for a discount. Charlie had been shocked at Eric’s relaxed attitude towards money, with the price of drugs he was surprised they hadn’t gone bankrupt. It was yet another thing he really had to look into if he had time.
Smiling at Holly, he glanced towards the surgery and was disappointed to see Lucy had gone. Along with her van.
He sighed, feeling strangely deflated, and rolled his sleeves up. It was time to tackle a sex-starved Chihuahua and a cat that he just knew was out to get him.
‘You look like you’re ready for battle.’ Sally grinned. ‘Oh, and Charlie there’s a message from Mr Gibson about the cricket, and the vicar’s wife has rung again to ask about judging the village fete.’ She peered at him over the top of her notepad. ‘You do realise there’s no escape, she will hunt you down?’
Charlie knew that the ‘Eric would do it’ argument was on the way, so he held up a hand to stop it. ‘I know Eric probably—’
‘Well actually he refuses.’
‘Really?’ That stumped him.
‘You will never guess the amazing excuses he’s come up with every year, he manages to come up with something so brilliantly believable that she lets him off the hook.’
‘Brilliant? Like what?’
‘Oh no, Charlie, you’ve got to come up with your own.’ The light in her eyes danced as she waved a finger at him. ‘A man like you shouldn’t have any problem at all.’
‘You’re laughing at me.’
‘Probably.’ She grinned, unabashed. ‘Claws or clitoris first?’
Charlie cringed and shook his head. ‘Very witty. I think a geriatric hamster is the safest bet, don’t you?’
‘Probably, it’ll give you time to work out how to fight Serena off, she thinks you’re so manly now.’ She leaned forward confidentially. ‘I heard her telling little Twinkle that you really are everything a man should be. I’m sensing church bells ringing and the need for a posh hat.’
‘You’ll be sensing something if you don’t get back behind your desk and stop causing trouble, woman.’
After a very busy surgery, followed by an eye-crossingly intricate operation inserting pins into a tiny Yorkshire