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Authors: Malcolm D Welshman
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lent me all the books on calorie control and seemed to know quite a bit about dieting. I thought it was worth a go. So, what do you think? Do you approve?’
There was a loud woof from Peggy.
‘Sorry,’ added Brenda. ‘I should have included Peggy. Seeing that she was able to lose so many pounds I didn’t see why I couldn’t do the same.’
Except you weren’t snuffling round customers eagerly looking for titbits, I mused. The thought made me smile. I looked down at Peggy. Was she thinking the same? Her lopsided grin suggested she was.
A T URN FOR THE B ETTER
I t was amazing how those first few weeks at Prospect House flew by, weeks in which I rarely met up with Crystal for more than a brief exchange of pleasantries. No doubt my tête-à-têtes with Eric filtered back to her, though no action had yet been taken regarding the practice cottage. I was kept in the picture as to her movements – Beryl made sure of that. Each day she referred to Crystal’s list of visits as those ‘special clients’, and Mandy made sure Tuesdays were kept sacrosanct for Crystal’s orthopaedic surgery in particular. It seemed our Dr Sharpe was destined to take the high road through the practice while I took the much humbler track that wound through the routine spays, castrates, dentals and more run-of-the-mill consultations.
So it was with some surprise that she stopped me in the corridor a few days before the summer bank holiday. ‘Paul, I’ve been meaning to have a word,’ she said, flashing me one of her perfect smiles – no overshot jaw or crooked teeth for her. ‘Have you a moment?’
Though a question, it didn’t require an answer. If asked for a moment from Crystal, you had to spare it whether or not there were several anal glands waiting to be expressed in the waiting room. A well-manicured, unvarnished nail pointed to the office. ‘Shall we?’
With the door closed, Crystal gestured to a chair. I sat down while she leaned against the desk, a hand to each side, lightly grasping the edge. She looked immaculate as always, her pale cream linen suit uncreased. How she managed that, I couldn’t fathom, as anything linen I wore very rapidly took on the look of a wrung out dishcloth.
‘So, Paul … you’re finding the job interesting?’ Her fingers strummed lightly.
‘Well, yes,’ I replied, wondering where this was leading.
‘And you’re managing to cope with the workload?’
‘It’s a bit hectic at times. But no more than I expected.’
‘And no other problems?’
I shook my head. There was the question of the night duties and weekend rotas unevenly shared … no practice accommodation … the endless routine ops. But I was sure Crystal didn’t want to hear that.
‘Good. Good.’ Crystal fiddled with the gold band on her left wrist, twisting it round and round. ‘The bank holiday weekend’s coming up.’
I nodded.
‘And you’re on duty.’
No surprise there. I’d been told weeks back that I’d be on call. Crystal and Eric were off on a city break to Venice.
‘I’m sure you’ll be able to cope.’ There was a tinge of uncertainty in her voice which made the hairs on the nape of my neck tingle. Hello. I sensed something was afoot. And I was right when she went on, ‘It’s just that you could be called out by the Richardsons.’ Crystal’s steel-blue eyes glanced away from me and she momentarily chewed her bottom lip. ‘It’s just that they’re a rather … how shall I put it … a rather demanding couple.’
Again, no surprise there. What clients of Crystal’s weren’t demanding? That’s why they were Crystal’s.
‘They refuse to see anybody but me as a rule.’ Two high spots of red appeared on Crystal’s cheeks. ‘Not even Eric. They fell out with him years back. Something to do with vaccinating their dogs,’ she added as if I required an explanation. ‘Sorry. You’re wondering where all this is leading.’
I gave a wan smile and shrugged my shoulders. Wherever it was
There was a loud woof from Peggy.
‘Sorry,’ added Brenda. ‘I should have included Peggy. Seeing that she was able to lose so many pounds I didn’t see why I couldn’t do the same.’
Except you weren’t snuffling round customers eagerly looking for titbits, I mused. The thought made me smile. I looked down at Peggy. Was she thinking the same? Her lopsided grin suggested she was.
A T URN FOR THE B ETTER
I t was amazing how those first few weeks at Prospect House flew by, weeks in which I rarely met up with Crystal for more than a brief exchange of pleasantries. No doubt my tête-à-têtes with Eric filtered back to her, though no action had yet been taken regarding the practice cottage. I was kept in the picture as to her movements – Beryl made sure of that. Each day she referred to Crystal’s list of visits as those ‘special clients’, and Mandy made sure Tuesdays were kept sacrosanct for Crystal’s orthopaedic surgery in particular. It seemed our Dr Sharpe was destined to take the high road through the practice while I took the much humbler track that wound through the routine spays, castrates, dentals and more run-of-the-mill consultations.
So it was with some surprise that she stopped me in the corridor a few days before the summer bank holiday. ‘Paul, I’ve been meaning to have a word,’ she said, flashing me one of her perfect smiles – no overshot jaw or crooked teeth for her. ‘Have you a moment?’
Though a question, it didn’t require an answer. If asked for a moment from Crystal, you had to spare it whether or not there were several anal glands waiting to be expressed in the waiting room. A well-manicured, unvarnished nail pointed to the office. ‘Shall we?’
With the door closed, Crystal gestured to a chair. I sat down while she leaned against the desk, a hand to each side, lightly grasping the edge. She looked immaculate as always, her pale cream linen suit uncreased. How she managed that, I couldn’t fathom, as anything linen I wore very rapidly took on the look of a wrung out dishcloth.
‘So, Paul … you’re finding the job interesting?’ Her fingers strummed lightly.
‘Well, yes,’ I replied, wondering where this was leading.
‘And you’re managing to cope with the workload?’
‘It’s a bit hectic at times. But no more than I expected.’
‘And no other problems?’
I shook my head. There was the question of the night duties and weekend rotas unevenly shared … no practice accommodation … the endless routine ops. But I was sure Crystal didn’t want to hear that.
‘Good. Good.’ Crystal fiddled with the gold band on her left wrist, twisting it round and round. ‘The bank holiday weekend’s coming up.’
I nodded.
‘And you’re on duty.’
No surprise there. I’d been told weeks back that I’d be on call. Crystal and Eric were off on a city break to Venice.
‘I’m sure you’ll be able to cope.’ There was a tinge of uncertainty in her voice which made the hairs on the nape of my neck tingle. Hello. I sensed something was afoot. And I was right when she went on, ‘It’s just that you could be called out by the Richardsons.’ Crystal’s steel-blue eyes glanced away from me and she momentarily chewed her bottom lip. ‘It’s just that they’re a rather … how shall I put it … a rather demanding couple.’
Again, no surprise there. What clients of Crystal’s weren’t demanding? That’s why they were Crystal’s.
‘They refuse to see anybody but me as a rule.’ Two high spots of red appeared on Crystal’s cheeks. ‘Not even Eric. They fell out with him years back. Something to do with vaccinating their dogs,’ she added as if I required an explanation. ‘Sorry. You’re wondering where all this is leading.’
I gave a wan smile and shrugged my shoulders. Wherever it was
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