Country Wives (9 page)

“Obviously. I’ve another client in ten minutes. Did you want to see me?”

They were interrupted by Bunty coming in to attend to the cat. Mungo gave her instructions for its care, asking her also to photograph him, especially the neck injury, and by then his next client had arrived; so Dan said he’d see him later, that it wasn’t important. He’d been going to tell Mungo about Lord Askew at the charity auction but in the circumstances decided it could wait.

At the reception desk Stephie was comforting Kate. “Look, you weren’t to know; the chap seemed genuine enough. It was something to do with his shifty eyes. Did you notice he never really looked us in the face?”

“That poor cat. Mungo thinks it’s a cruelty case.”

“Really? Not a road accident, then?”

Kate shook her head.

Dan came out of the consulting room to have a word with
them. “Don’t you go blaming yourselves, girls, just one of those things.”

Kate answered him almost before he’d finished speaking. “I
am
blaming myself. I’m far too trusting of people.”

“Look, write down a description of him while he’s fresh in your mind. It could help the police.”

“Police!”

“Yes. Mungo is livid and so am I. A disgrace. But don’t you girls feel guilty, please. You weren’t to know. Write down his description and as much of the conversation you had as you can remember.”

“I’ve got his car registration number.” Triumphantly Stephie held up the notepad she’d scribbled it on.

Dan leaned across the desk and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. “Clever girl. You should be in the police. Hang on to that; it could be our only link.”

Stephie blushed.

“Bunty’s taken charge of him now.”

Stephie approved. “He’ll pull through, then. She’s brilliant with hopeless cases, is Bunty.”

“We know now why he didn’t go to the RSPCA—too afraid of prosecution. Well, bad luck. Thought we’d be a soft option. We’ll get him yet. Quiet day. Finished my calls. I’ll have lunch and hope something comes in meanwhile.” He gave them half a salute, but not the Nazi one he reserved especially for Letty, and disappeared into the back.

T
HE
police arrived later in the afternoon in the shape of Sergeant Bird. Only his uniform made him recognizable as a police officer, because true to his name he was a thin, birdlike little man. At some time he must have had the height qualification necessary to join the force, but since then he’d shrunk. The
peak of his cap almost engulfed his face and shaded a pair of piercing, almost black eyes, which viewed one with the apparent intention of taking one into custody immediately.

Placing his cap on the top of the reception desk, he said, “Sergeant Bird. Where’s his nibs, then?”

Kate asked, “His nibs?”

“Mungo. He thinks he has a cruelty case. A cat.”

“That’s right. He’s operating all afternoon, so he can’t be interrupted I’m afraid, but—”

“Understandable. Mustn’t disturb the great man at his work, of which I am his warmest admirer.” Sergeant Bird settled his forearms on the top of the desk. “Five years ago my German shepherd, Duke, was within an ace of having to be put down, all hope lost. I brought him to Mungo. He operated on his hips when the practice was down the town in the old premises, and he’s never looked back. Since then I’ve had the greatest of respect for him. He said on the phone there’s no evidence of identification.”

“All we have is a description of the man we wrote down as soon as he left and … his car registration number.” Kate brought out the notepad like a magician bringing a rabbit out of a hat.

“Ex-ce-llent. Quick thinking, that. Photographs too, I understand.”

“They’re here and Bunty’s done a list of his injuries for you.”

“Now that Bunty is a treasure. If she’s in charge, he’ll pull through. I’ve great faith in her too.”

“Hope so. He’ll look like a nice cat when he gets better and puts on some weight. He’s terribly thin.”

“I’ll have a look, if I may.”

Before Kate could say she thought it inadvisable as they were so busy, Sergeant Bird had disappeared into the intensive care room and hadn’t come out when Stephie came back on at four.

Stephie giggled when Kate told her Sergeant Bird had come. “I bet he’s hanging about to see Bunty. Fancies her like nobody’s business. Keeps asking her out and she won’t go.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s a lot older than her.”

“Exactly. It’s been going on since I joined the practice, and I’ve been here three years. He’s round here like a shot on the flimsiest of excuses.”

“And he’s smaller.”

Stephie giggled again. “I know, I know … sh! He’s coming back.”

Sergeant Bird came to the desk, saying “I’ll be off now. Tell Mungo I’ll be on to this straightaway.” He picked up his cap and disappeared out of the door, some of the spring having gone out of his step.

After the door closed, Stephie said, “She’s turned him down again, you can see. Nice chap, but he’s not marriage material, is he now? You wouldn’t even fancy him enough to live with him, never mind marry him.”

Kate had to agree.

H
E
was back the following day. “It came to me after I’d left. Was your security camera switched on yesterday?”

Joy clapped a hand to her forehead. “Of course! Of course! Aren’t we fools! It’s so unnatural, all this modern technology, you don’t think to refer to it. He’ll be on there. You’re not just a pretty face, are you?”

Sergeant Bird grew a whole inch. “No, I’m not.”

“What about the car number? Got anything from that?”

“Not registered. So that’s another thing I can get him for, once I catch up with him. Where’s the film, then?”

“Just a minute. I’ve got to think about this. Where is yesterday’s film? It should be in my office safe. Hold on.”

Sergeant Bird leaned his back against the desk while he waited for Joy and surveyed the waiting clients. He recognized one or two of them and said good morning to them.

“Morning, Dickie. How’s things?”

Sergeant Bird hated it when people called him Dickie. He’d always thought Aubrey was such a distinguished name, but no one ever called him by it. “Fine. Thanks.”

“I see your lot haven’t solved this stolen car racket in the parking garage we’ve all read about in the paper. Front page in the local paper again this morning.”

“No.” He turned to face the desk to put an end to the ribbing he knew he was going to get.

Joy returned with the video in her hand. “All is not lost. We’ll run it through, shall we?”

Eager to get away, Sergeant Bird took the video, saying “I won’t put you to any more trouble. I’ll do it at the station.”

“I need a receipt for it. Sorry, but you know, must follow the rules.”

“Of course.”

Named Copperfield by Bunty, who always went in for distinguished names for any animal without one, the cat in question had been operated on that morning. It had been long and difficult, but Mungo, when he finally stripped off his gloves, was very satisfied with the cat’s condition. “I’m handing him over to you, Bunty. Make sure the two Sarahs know what to do. He seems in good heart, and he must be a fighter to have survived what he’s gone through. All he needs now is careful nursing.”

“He’ll get that. We’ll have him up and about in no time.”

“I know you will. We shan’t get paid for it, but what the hell; the poor thing deserves the best after what I suspect he’s been through. I just hope Dickie Bird finds that chap before I do.”

Bunty carefully picked up the still unconscious Copperfield and took him to the recovery room, where loving care and constant monitoring had him eating and trying to get on his feet in no time at all.

They were gathered to watch him try to walk outside his cage one afternoon when the phone rang, and it was Zoe’s mother calling to say that Zoe had had her baby boy, six pounds ten ounces and fighting fit, and yes, Zoe was fine and would be out of hospital tomorrow, and she’d be bringing baby Oscar in for them to see in a few days.

Kate went out to buy a card for them all to sign. Dan came in at about half past six, having finished his calls, so Kate asked him if he’d like to add his name to it.

“She’s had her blip, then? What is it?”

“A boy. She’s calling him Oscar.”

“My God! What does she think she’s had, a dog? The poor child.”

“I know you always speak your mind, but really…”

Dan sat down to sign his name. “Oscar Savage! Has quite a ring to it, I suppose. But he still sounds like a dog to me.”

“Well, you’ll be able to see for yourself when she brings him in.”

“So long as I’m not expected to do the billing and cooing.”

“You sound as though you don’t approve.”

Dan stood up and handed Kate the card. “Frankly, I don’t. It occurs to me that she’s having this baby as some kind of statement about making use of a man to give her the baby she wants, intending deliberately to deny him all knowledge of it just for the hell of it. One musn’t have children simply to make statements; they’re not pawns in the game of life. There’s five pounds toward a present for him. I expect we’re clubbing together, are we? The boss, is he in?”

Kate nodded.

He smiled at her and strode off to find Mungo.

Kate stood looking at his signature. A great flourish of a signature it was:
Congratulations!!! Daniel J. F. Brown
. Such confidence in every stroke of his pen—big, sharply pointed letters in a stylish, authoritative hand. He must have more insight than people gave him credit for, though, because Zoe had used very similar words to her about making use of men when they’d been discussing Oscar’s arrival some weeks before. She hoped he wouldn’t show his disapproval of the baby in front of everyone. He’d already made enough enemies in the practice without making matters any worse; he hadn’t a cat in hell’s chance of staying permanently if he did. The interviews for his job began on Monday, and then it would be goodbye Dan; and she couldn’t help feeling it would be a mistake to rid the practice of such a good vet.

D
AN
had found Mungo working at his desk. He tapped on the open door and said, “Time for a word?”

“Of course. Sit down.” Mungo took off his glasses and prepared to listen.

“When Kate and I went to the charity auction, I don’t suppose you gave it a thought that Lord Askew would be there?”

“I did not! You didn’t have a showdown?”

“No.” Dan had to smile. “He took me to one side and asked me if I would see that roan privately.”

Mungo’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Did he?”

“I told him that I wouldn’t and haven’t heard from him since.”

“I see.”

“Thought I’d better tell you just in case something was said.”

“Thank you. He’s obviously worried, then?”

“He is. If he should ask me again, what would you like me to say? I wouldn’t go privately for obvious reasons, but would you be interested if he asked me to go as your employee?”

“I’ve never bothered with equine, not the slightest interest. It’s not the horses themselves; it’s their owners.”

“They can be the very devil; you just have to know how to get along with them. But I would do it if you gave me the go-ahead. He may never ask me again. However, I must have the position clear, in case he does. He’s very influential; his approval could bring in many more equine clients, and it would be another string to your bow. I know I’m not here to stay, but it might influence your choice of a permanent vet if I got Lord Askew’s account.”

Mungo tapped the end of his pen on the desk while he thought.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap
. “I’ll consult with Colin and Zoe. Thanks for being so straightforward about it. Do you enjoy it?”

“Wouldn’t want to be wholly equine. I like variety, you see.”

Mungo put his glasses back on and said, “I’ll let you know. Young Copperfield has been walking about today. Good news, eh?”

He rang Colin that same night, and they had a long conversation about the pros and cons of the situation. The upshot of it was that Colin thought it was highly unlikely Dan would get asked again; but if he did, why not? After all, the fellow wasn’t going to be there for long, was he. These new applicants seemed promising and one of them did have horse experience, so why not let Dan lead the way if it so happened?

Ten minutes after he’d spoken to Colin the telephone rang, and Mungo found himself on the receiving end of Letty’s bile. “Colin’s told me. You said yourself you weren’t keen on him when he first came, and I’ve seen nothing of him to endear him to
me
. Giving him this opening is nothing short of ridiculous. He’ll be thinking he’s here to stay, and I’m not having it.”

“You’re
not having it?”

“No, I am not. The man is insolent and arrogant, and what’s more it seems to me he’s too keen on making the practice pay and not enough on the animals.”

“May I remind you that Colin is the decision maker and as he has gone along with the idea …”

“Colin is the decision maker only because I put him there and money talks.”

Mungo held a bitter retort in check. “Anyway, I haven’t spoken to Zoe yet, so if we all agree then that’s final; and even if it’s two out of three, namely Colin and me, it’s still final. Goodnight, Letty. Thanks for ringing.”

“I haven’t finished.”

“Well, I have.”

“Now look here. Colin has some rights, you know.”

“He has, and he’s exercised them and he’s agreed with me.”

“Just how much influence does this man have on you? He isn’t in the place two minutes and he’s persuading you to take on equine, something you have set your face against all the time you’ve been in practice. Think carefully, Mungo. The man’s a devious beggar, believe me. He’s carving a niche for himself.”

“If it weren’t for Dan, with no Zoe available so we’re a vet down, Colin would be working day and night,
every
night at the moment. So think on that, Letty. Goodnight.” He was usually too well mannered to put the receiver down on someone, but this time he did. As he lowered it to the cradle, he could hear Letty still furiously expostulating. Damn and blast the woman. Was she right? Was he being manipulated? Miriam would put him straight. Mungo found her reading in the sitting room and laid his problem on her shoulders.