Good God. Ella regretted putting the TV on. Dr Marina Scott was as absolutely blooming gorgeous this morning as she had been the morning before and the one before that. Each time Ella tuned in, she hoped that she’d remember wrong, but no, this woman had star quality written all over her. Her white coat stopped just above the knee, not too short to be tarty and just the right cut-off point to show off the shapeliest, most elegant legs Ella had ever seen.
From her shiny brilliant teeth to her long graceful fingers tipped in fuchsia pink to match her lustrous wet-look lipstick, she exuded polish and gloss. There wasn’t a single feature Ella could find fault with. Even her walk, in stylish but sensibly heeled black court shoes, was sinuous. The camera loved her and she talked with friendliness and vivacity into the lens. She treated her guests with great charm, immediately scooping their pets up with enthusiastic exclamations. It was obvious why she was such a hit, she had so much warmth and empathy.
Ella could see that for some it might be addictive viewing as Dr Scott talked to worried pet owners with an authoritative air, dispensing her expertise in a kind, reassuring manner.
Tess wandered in and stood right in front of the television and let out a gentle fart, just as Dr Scott introduced a chocolate Labrador called Larry.
‘That’s my girl,’ said Ella, thinking it rather appropriate, even though poor gorgeous Marina had done absolutely nothing wrong to her.
The good vet gave the camera a particularly winsome look that made Ella mime gagging.
‘Except, as regular viewers will know, Larry’s a girl dog. She just looked like a Larry, so the name stuck.’
An off-camera interviewer interjected with a coy, ‘And we hear you have news regarding Larry this week.’
‘I certainly do,’ gushed Marina.
OK, now Ella had gone off her. The format and delivery were too cheesy for words but then again this was daytime TV. Thank God, the curtains were still closed and no one could catch her watching this drivel.
‘Larry is going to have a litter of puppies in the next month and we’re very excited because we will be streaming the birth live as it happens.’
‘And how can people find out when Larry will be having her puppies?’
‘We’ve got a special Twitter account for Larry and a Facebook page. So people can follow from the first twinge. It’s very exciting.’
Ella glared at the screen. It sounded awful to her. She bet Marina Scott wouldn’t like to be filmed live in childbirth.
What if something went wrong? Did dogs miscarry? Did they know they’d lost their babies? Did they grieve for them like humans did? Did it cause that awful hollow ache in the pit of the stomach?
With a vicious snap at the button on the remote control, she silenced Marina. The cottage suddenly felt claustrophobic and she was horribly conscious that the cottage next door was empty. Poor George – leaving him all alone, watching them wheel the hospital trolley away to the ward had been horrible. Perhaps she should go and visit him.
Underfoot, her shoes squeaked on the floor as she walked the length of the corridor, checking off the ward numbers. In one hand, she clutched a bag of books, fruit and biscuits, while in the other a cup of George’s favourite cappuccino. Visiting hours had just started and she picked up her pace – she didn’t want him to think no one was coming.
Once she’d decided to come she’d collected a few of his things, feeling uncomfortable as she went into his bedroom to find pyjamas and toiletries.
‘Morning, duck. Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Magda said you’d come.’
He was obviously a bit confused and had forgotten Magda was in the middle of the ocean on the other side of the world but she didn’t like to remind him.
‘Morning, George, how are you today?’ His colour looked much better but he looked tired and was clearly confused.
‘I’m absolutely fine, just had a funny turn, but they want to do all sorts of tests. Gives those doctors something to do. Don’t suppose you brought me a paper?’
‘I did.’ She handed over theExpressshe bought at the League of Friends shop downstairs. ‘And,’ she lifted the bag, ‘PJs and bits. I’ll put them in your locker. And,’ she lowered her voice, ‘cake.’
‘You never. You baked me a cake.’ George sat up straighter, his hospital gown sagging on one side to reveal a thin, bony, liver-spotted shoulder, reminding her how frail he really was.
Ella let out a peal of laughter. ‘You never give up. No, it’s one of the shop’s Swiss rolls.’
‘Hasn’t Peter Reynolds got rid of that stock yet? At this rate, they’ll be covering ’em in chocolate and selling them as Yule logs throughout December.’ His thin arms reached out to grasp the offering. ‘Oooh, that’s grand. Will go nicely with my cup ofcoffee. Here, hand it over before the Sister comes round. I’m not supposed to have any stimulations.’
‘Or stimulants.’
‘Them too, but I’m not risking them taking this away.’
He took a long sip of coffee and gave a happy sigh. ‘I think I should have been born Italian. They know how to make coffee.’
‘You’d better make sure you wipe your mouth before the doctor does his round,’ said Ella pointing to his milky, chocolate-spotted mouth.
