Must Be Love (11 page)

‘Emma, you can’t say that,’ I cut in, chuckling.

‘Of course I can, Maz.’ She grins. ‘Drew’s one of us. Almost.’ She turns back to him. He’s looking at her, his expression one of bemusement, and I realise he’s just as unsure of us as we are about him.

‘We have a great team here,’ she goes on. ‘Our trainee nurse is picking up on everything very quickly – I’m sure she’ll soon be up to speed.’

‘With the microwave, at least,’ Drew says, smiling. ‘I can get along with anybody – especially when there’s a beach not far away.’

Emma seems to have gone in like a racehorse with blinkers. She’s virtually offering him the job on the spot without conferring with me.

‘Have you got your own protective clothing?’ Emma asks.

‘I’m afraid not.’ Drew glances down at his wrist where the cuff of his white shirt is clearly visible, sticking out from the sleeve of his suit jacket. ‘I travel light, you see.’

‘Have you got any questions for us?’ Emma says.

‘Yes. Do you provide me with somewhere to stay, or do I need to look for a place?’ Drew asks.

‘I’ll sort something out,’ Emma says quickly. ‘And we’ll hire you a car. What kind of accommodation would you be looking for? Single? Double?’

‘Oh no, I’m not hooked up. It’s just me.’ Drew flashes a brilliant smile. ‘My boss can’t wait to get shot of me. He wants the flat that came with the job back for the permanent assistant he’s taken on. I’m no longer wanted, and anyway I’m ready for a change of scene. I am supposed to be travelling, seeing the world, after all.’

I glance pointedly at my watch when Emma looks at me, perhaps expecting a contribution to the conversation. I’ve got more than enough to be getting on with, appointments booked all the way through from ten until two. Normally we start at nine, but today Frances booked clients in from ten because of Drew’s interview. I’ve also got a visit to give three Siamese cats their boosters because they’re too highly strung and sensitive to travel – according to their doting owner, who’s also rather highly strung and sensitive herself.

‘Shall we show Drew around the surgery now?’ I suggest. ‘We can discuss terms and conditions as we go.’

He appears interested and impressed by the practice facilities, the piped oxygen for delivering anaesthetics, state-of-the-art X-ray machine and gadget for measuring our feline patients’ blood pressure. He also confirms that he’s confident using them and discusses a couple of the more complex cases he’s been involved with when Emma and I ask him a few technical questions.

‘If you need to know where anything is, or how it works, all you have to do is ask,’ Emma says. ‘We tend to see our own cases through from beginning to end here, rather than chop and change. Clients like seeing the same vet every time.’

‘But we always discuss any cases we’re unsure about,’ I join in. ‘Sometimes it helps.’

‘Two heads are better than one,’ Drew agrees, nodding.

Emma leads us into Kennels, where Shannon’s holding on to a guinea pig for Izzy to cut its nails. The guinea pig, one of the long-haired variety, is not happy, squeaking in protest.

‘I reckon he’s afraid he’s going to end up in the microwave,’ Drew says, moving closer. ‘Did you know they eat guinea pigs in Peru?’

‘No?’ Shannon says, looking up, wide-eyed with horror.

‘It’s true,’ says Izzy, confirming Drew’s observation.

‘Have you eaten one, then?’ Shannon says, her voice trembling. ‘Oh, don’t tell me …’

‘I have not,’ says Izzy. ‘What about you, Drew? Have you eaten guinea pig on your travels?’

‘I did travel up through Peru and Bolivia,’ Drew says, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.

‘I shouldn’t worry,’ Emma says. ‘We aren’t going to eat any of our patients here.’ She grins and I can feel everyone relax. The guinea pig stops squeaking. ‘It wouldn’t be good for business.’

‘Would you mind having a look at the Westie while you’re here?’ Izzy asks. ‘I need to know if you’re going to open her up today or whether I can feed her.’

‘How is she?’ Emma asks, sounding a little guilty, I think, because she hadn’t sorted the inpatients out before collecting Drew from the station.

‘I’ll get her out,’ I offer.

‘Allow me,’ says Drew.

‘What about your suit – I mean, your boss’s suit?’ I point out.

Drew glances down at his attire. ‘He won’t mind,’ he says.

‘You can have a pinny,’ Izzy calls. ‘They’re in the dispenser beside the sink.’

I fetch him one. He puts the plastic apron on over his head, but he can’t tie it round his waist because the ties don’t reach – not that he’s fat. Far from it. Drew heads for the cage, where the Westie takes one look at him and turns her back. Joining him, I unfasten the catch.

‘Come here, Delilah,’ I call softly, at which she looks round.

‘She seems a bit shy,’ Drew observes. ‘What’s she in for?’

‘Persistent vomiting,’ Emma interjects.

‘She hasn’t been sick overnight,’ Izzy says from the prep bench as Drew lifts her out and cuddles her to his chest. At first Delilah stares at him, her ears down and tail still.

‘You’re a cute little thing,’ Drew says, and I wonder if he says that to all the girls, then think he probably doesn’t have to. Delilah seems hooked anyway. She wriggles up towards his face, resting her paws on his shoulder before, tail wagging, she licks at his nose. ‘Where do you want her?’ He takes her towards the prep bench and Delilah stops her licking. I see her eyes fix on the guinea pig.

‘Shannon, put the guinea pig away, please,’ I say quickly, sensing trouble. The guinea pig might be safe from the staff, but it’s in imminent danger of being eaten by one of our other patients, and I don’t want to have to explain that one.

Shannon whisks it away, then returns to spray the bench and remove the nail clippings while Drew hangs on to an overexcited Delilah so Emma can check her over. She explains the detail of the case to Drew and I feel a little embarrassed on her behalf because she makes it all sound terribly technical as if she’s out to impress. She doesn’t have to – it’s Drew who’s supposed to be impressing us, and I’m not sure that he’s making enough effort. He seems to like the animals and some of them like him, but he seems rather vague when Emma’s talking about laboratory parameters to measure pancreatitis and liver function.

Still, he must know his stuff, mustn’t he? It’s a slight niggle, the tiniest doubt, which remains in my mind for some time after Drew’s gone, and one that I raise with Emma when we’re upstairs in the flat, raising glasses of fizzy water later the same evening. (We don’t have wine – I’m on call and Emma’s thinking of the baby.)

How do you know if someone is suitable for a job? How can you decide that in just a few hours?

‘I thought I’d ask Lynsey if she’ll put him up,’ Emma says.

‘Drew?’

‘Well, he can’t share the flat with you, can he? It’s too much of a love nest. Look, Alex has left his socks on the radiator.’ Emma chuckles. ‘Don’t tell me those lovely Argyll socks are yours.’

‘Well, no … And you’re right – I don’t want anyone else living here. Three’s a crowd and all that.’ I hesitate. ‘You know, I’m not sure about Drew. He seems a bit vague sometimes, as if he’s lacking clinical know-how. He didn’t contribute much when you were looking at Delilah, for example.’

‘He came here for an interview, not to give a second opinion on my most difficult case. Really, Maz,’ she says lightly, ‘you have to admit you haven’t come up with any brilliant ideas about Delilah either.’

‘No, but –’

‘I think he’s great,’ says Emma, putting her feet up on the sofa. ‘Jude Law, eat your heart out. Oh, come on, Maz, you have to admit he’s utterly charming. Our clients will love him. You’ve seen his references.’

‘True.’ They aren’t merely glowing, they’re incandescent.

‘And I’ve spoken to his current employer,’ Emma continues, ‘so I’ve had confirmation from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, that Drew’s a really nice guy.’

‘What about that comment he made about his boss looking forward to some peace and quiet?’ I ask.

‘Maz, it was one of those throwaway remarks we all make from time to time.’ Emma raises one eyebrow. ‘Any further objections?’

I shake my head, letting my reservations give way to Emma’s determination to hire him. I know the score. We need another vet at Otter House and no matter how many we interview, I’m going to feel the same sense of uncertainty with every one. I’m always going to worry that they might not look after our clients and their pets as well as Emma and I do. I lean back in my chair. I’m being far too picky. There’s no real reason why Drew shouldn’t suit us very well.

‘Do you know what I think?’ Emma says.

‘I don’t, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.’

She smiles. ‘I think you’re afraid Drew will outshine you.’

Chapter Six

A Private Consultation

‘Drew’s arriving today – I said I’d pick him up from the station. You don’t mind doing morning surgery, do you, Maz?’ Emma says, popping her head round the consulting-room door.

‘Not at all.’ It’s that quiet time, the calm before the storm. I’ve finished checking on the inpatients with Izzy, deciding which animals can go home and which have to stay, and now I’m sitting on the table, waiting for the monitor to flash up the first appointment, although I can hear perfectly well what’s going on in Reception.

There’s a clattering of claws and the sound of panting, and I recognise Mrs Dyer’s voice apologising for dropping in without an appointment, but could she just see Emma for a moment. Like Delilah, the Westie, who’s doing well now on a hypoallergenic diet, Brutus is one of Emma’s specials and I know from experience that there’s no point in suggesting Mrs Dyer sees me instead, so I call across to Frances that I’ll go and see if Emma’s free.

‘Tell her it’s a sore eye,’ Mrs Dyer says. ‘I’ve been rinsing it with cold tea, but it’s made no difference.’

‘What does she expect?’ Emma says when I find her in the corridor, ready to head out again with her bag and keys.

‘I can get her to come back later,’ I say, ‘or I can fetch Drew from the station for you, if you like.’

Emma glances at her watch.

‘I’ll see Brutus, then go straight out.’ Emma follows me back to the consulting room, lagging some way behind, and for the first time I notice that the pregnancy is beginning to affect her, that she really does need to start taking life easier. I feel a twinge of guilt that I was so sceptical about the idea of taking on a locum so soon. Almost a month has passed since we offered Drew the job, and her waistline … well, she hasn’t got a waist any more. I wonder what it feels like. Is the bump very heavy? Does it get in the way?

‘You couldn’t be nurse, could you, Maz?’ Emma asks. ‘Sometimes Brutus takes a bit of pinning down.’

He does too.

He’s like a small horse, huffing and puffing hot air into the close confines of the consulting room. Mrs Dyer stands astride him, her floral skirt hitched up, a ladder in her opaque tights, and I hang on to his huge Great Dane head with both hands, while Emma tries to shine a light at his left eye, which is red and teary.

‘I’m going to stick some dye into that eye, Christine,’ Emma says.

‘Best of luck,’ says Mrs Dyer.

Emma reaches for a single dose of dye, which looks orange in the packet but turns a yellowy-green when it comes into contact with the eye – and Mrs Dyer’s white blouse.

‘I hope that comes off in the wash,’ Mrs Dyer says.

‘So do I,’ Emma says brightly as she manages to get a couple of drops of dye into Brutus’s eye at the fourth attempt. ‘Otherwise it’s going to cost me. Ah, it’s just as I suspected. Poor Brutus has an ulcer. I’ll give you a tube of antibiotic ointment.’ Emma takes one from the shelf. ‘All you have to do is squeeze a little in there every day until I see him again.’

‘How on earth am I going to get near his eye now?’ Mrs Dyer says. ‘The old man can’t help – he might be a butcher, but he’s a bit squeamish when it comes to medical matters.’

‘If you’re happy to pop in with Brutus every day, I’ll do it for you.’ Emma squirts a good dose of ointment into the dog’s eye, then stands back before Mrs Dyer and I release our hold on him. Brutus gives himself a good shake and turns to wait, his nose pressed against the door.

‘Thank you so much, Emma,’ Mrs Dyer says, hardly acknowledging me as she leaves. ‘I know I can always rely on you.’

‘Thanks for your help, Maz,’ Emma says once she’s gone.

‘How will she cope when you aren’t here?’ I say, turning to the sink to wash Brutus’s saliva off my hands.

‘I’m hoping she’ll bond with Drew. Which reminds me, I should be at the station. I’ll see you later.’

Emma returns shortly after with Drew, who slips the straps of his scruffy rucksack over his shoulders and lowers it to the floor, then wipes his palms on his shorts, cut-offs from a pair of jeans, before shaking my hand.

‘Hiya, all,’ he says.

‘How was your journey?’ I ask.

‘Pretty good, thanks.’

‘I expect they were sorry to see you go, the staff at your old practice,’ I say.

Drew laughs.

‘My boss – my former boss – says that taking on a locum’s like fostering a stray dog. You just get fond of them and they have to move on.’

Are we going to grow fond of Drew? I wonder. I hope so.

‘I’m going to sort out a couple of sets of scrubs, then run Drew to the garage to collect the hire car and show him to his lodgings,’ Emma says.

‘You’re staying at the Pitts’, aren’t you?’ Izzy says.

‘Bed and breakfast at Barton Farm,’ says Emma. ‘Lynsey has a spare room.’

I’m not sure how – as I’ve mentioned before, she and Stewart have seven children – and I feel a little guilty that I haven’t yet looked for a place of my own to free up the flat.

‘Oh, and I’ll drive you down to Talysands so you know where to find the beach,’ Emma goes on.

‘Don’t let me put you out,’ Drew says. ‘I’m sure I’ll find it.’

‘No, I’ve got to drop into Chickarees. Ben and I have decided on a buggy for the baby’ – Emma looks at her bump, her cheeks flushed with pride – ‘and I want to place my order in plenty of time.’