Chapter Fourteen
After half an hour spent searching for Jowan all over Clove Lore – Elliot ran all the way to the B&B and the Siren while I rang Izaak up at the visitors’ centre – it turned out that he’s been away from the village all day at a book auction. There was nothing else for it but to call a cab.
Elliot wrapped Aldous in a blanket and bounded up the slope while I dodged the tourists and tried not to lag too far behind.
I barely had a chance to take in the big sprawling visitors’ centre as we passed by, but I noticed the little craft concessions: a pottery, a fudge pantry, a silk printing shop and a soap and candle maker, maybe a few other little stores, all set up for the tourists. It was all a bit of a blur. I rushed past the pasty stall and its mouth-watering savoury smells with a bit of a heavy heart (and a rumbling stomach) but Elliot didn’t slow his pace. His face was set sternly and Aldous looked even tinier and more raggedy in his thick arms as we pressed through the day’s departing crowds.
He marched ahead through the car park, past the last of the tourist coaches and out onto the main road where, thank God, the taxi was waiting.
The race to the vet’s in the next town, which should have been like a scene in a movie – a desperate dash for medical assistance – was in reality a frustratingly slow meander along twisting B roads behind tractors and tourist traffic, but eventually we ended up here, at the surgery.
Elliot disappeared with a woman in green scrubs, leaving me alone in the waiting room. I watched the red light over the door flicker on and the words ‘No Entry: In Surgery’ appear, and I settled in for a long wait.
That was over an hour ago and even though Aldous has been nothing but a stinky pain in the arse since I first found him sleeping his life away in my bookshop, I admit I’ve had a bit of a cry thinking about him in there, under anaesthetic, knots in his tummy, his owners unreachable.
When Elliot finally emerges, peeling off scrubs and looking rather pale, I spring to my feet.
‘Is he OK?’
‘Poor little guy…’ he starts.
‘Oh my God, no!’
‘He’s fine. He’s had a very bad case of gastric dilatation volvulus.’
‘In English?’
‘A twisted stomach, caused by excess gas building up. He’s probably been in pain for weeks.’
‘So you fixed him?’
‘We operated.’
‘Got all the gas out?’
He pretends to laugh. ‘Yes. He’s going to stay here for a few days with Anjali. Get some rest.’
The vet comes out of the surgery, finishing up making notes on her clipboard. ‘You can get going,’ she says, pulling out her ponytail and swishing long dark hair behind her. ‘You’d better try to contact the owner again too.’
‘We’ll find Jowan eventually, I’m sure,’ I say. ‘Does Aldous need anything? He has a tatty old jumper he sleeps on, should I go get it?’
‘No, he needs sterile blankets until the wound heals,’ the vet replies.
‘We should settle up,’ says Elliot, reaching for the wallet he’d abandoned on the chair beside me as he rushed to get into theatre scrubs.
I watch Anjali still his movements with a hand placed over his. ‘It’s okay. The owner can pay for his boarding and the meds. I’ll invoice them once Aldous is on the mend. No surgery costs.’
‘That’s really kind,’ Elliot says, a little lost in Anjali’s smile, to my mind.
‘We vets have got to stick together,’ she says, ‘and I… I really admire your work.’
I squint a bit in confusion at this, but feel a sudden compulsion to not stick around and find out what the hot young vet’s on about. I also don’t want to interrogate what this reaction of mine is all about either. I was never one for the whole green-eyed monster thing, and especially not over some bloke I don’t even know and who I’m categorically not interested in getting to know.
I thank her and gather our things, ready to leave.
‘We’ll ring first thing, see how he is,’ Elliot throws in, and we make for the door. I might have dragged him by the sleeve a bit.
Chapter Fifteen
