They took a seat and waited. Regan looked around at the other patients and their owners. She hadn’t really noticed the woman with a fancy cat carrier until the cat inside let out an ear-piercing wail.Poor thing, thought Regan, eyeing the pretty tabby cat who was peering out at her. Maybe it was in a lot of pain.
‘Fifi,’ called the vet, and the woman with the cat stood up. ‘Just a checkup today then?’ he asked, as the cat continued to yowl its protest.
Blimey, thought Regan.I wonder what noise she makes when she is in pain.
Minutes later, the receptionist reluctantly escorted them through to a consulting room and handed them over to a veterinary nurse. She was far more pleasant and already seemed to have the measure of Elvis. ‘Boy, is he a character,’ she said. ‘He chews everything.’
‘Yep. That’s Elvis,’ said Regan proudly.
‘He’s quite thin, but that’s easily fixed. We’ve treated him for fleas, ticks and ear mites so he should be a bit more comfortable now, too.’
Poor Elvis, thought Regan. She’d not thought about the sort of life he’d had living on the streets with Kevin. ‘And after the surgery – is he all okay?’ Regan held her breath.
‘He’s amazing. He’s a bit sore and he’s very unhappy about having to wear a collar, but the operation was a success. He just needs to heal.’
Regan’s shoulders slumped in relief. ‘Can we see him?’
‘Sure. Come through. You can pet him but don’t touch his stitches, all right?’ They both nodded their understanding.
Elvis was lying in the same pen he’d been in after his operation. He wagged his tail excitedly at the sight of Regan and tried to stand up when the nurse opened the cage.
‘Easy, boy. You need to take care,’ said Regan. He looked a million times better than he had the other night, but she couldn’t ignore his shaved fur and the long set of Frankenstein stitches on his abdomen.
‘It’s really okay,’ said the nurse, seeing Regan’s expression. ‘They had to get in quick. He had internal bleeding and a ruptured bowel.’
‘You poor thing,’ said Charlie, joining Regan in giving Elvis some fuss.
Regan looked at the dogs in the pens around Elvis. Each one had a label explaining who they were. A beautiful black dog with more than a hint of Labrador in his genes pawed at the grille for attention. Regan checked his label. Barney.I bet Barney has a home to go to and people who love him, she thought.
‘Thanks for everything you’ve done,’ said Regan.
‘You’re welcome,’ said the nurse. ‘I’ve a huge soft spot for him – he’s like the dog I had as a child. Next time you want to see Elvis, ask for me. My name’s Deborah.’
Charlie and Regan exchanged looks.
‘Thanks,’ said Regan. ‘I’ve got a good friend called Debbie.’
‘You’ll remember it then,’ said Deborah. ‘Try not to worry about Elvis. He’ll soon be back to himself,’ she added, shutting the cage again.
Elvis’s big sad eyes stared out at Regan. ‘You can’t come out until you’re better,’ she said, pushing her fingers through the wire.But what happens then?she wondered.
She had no idea.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After giving the receptionist a surly look on their departure, they were back in Regan’s little car. ‘Right,’ said Regan, noticing how close Charlie was to her when he leaned over to search for his seatbelt. A waft of aftershave caught her unawares, making her insides tingle mutinously. ‘Home?’
‘Actually … I was wondering, if I put some petrol in, would you mind taking me somewhere? It’s a pain not being able to drive any more.’
How could she say no? ‘Sure. Of course. To the garage!’ She had no idea why she said it like cartoon Batman. She shook her head and focused on driving.
Charlie paid for a full tank of fuel, which she was very grateful for – but it did leave her thinking that maybe he was after a lift to Scotland. After filling up, they headed off in the direction of Hove in virtual silence with the exception of the odd direction from Charlie. It was a companionable silence – something she wasn’t really used to. She had no idea where they were going, but it was good simply to be in his company.
When Charlie asked her to pull over, she was surprised to see they were outside an ordinary-looking bungalow. She was intrigued to know what he wanted here. An elderlyrelative perhaps? She switched off the engine and sat back in her seat. Charlie undid his seatbelt and then turned to look at her, a twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips.
‘Don’t get comfy, you’re coming too,’ he said.
Regan leaned forward to check the building. There was a nice tree in the garden and a door sign in the shape of a hedgehog. She wasn’t really in the mood for making small talk with anyone, and the less she knew about Charlie and his family the easier it would be to keep her distance. ‘You’re okay, I’ll wait here.’
