‘So,’ she shrugged and beamed at him, ‘you just got yourself an assistant. I haven’t done much surgery recently. It will be good to keep my hand in.’
‘I don’t need an assistant, I’ve got Bets.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Devon. You’re just cutting your nose off to spite your face. She could be doing something else. No wonder you look so tired, being a big bad grumpy martyr.’
‘What do you want, Marina?’ He was fed up with playing her game.
‘To show you how it could be. Us as a team, working together this time. I’ve got the TV company to agree to fund the equipment you wanted, the laparoscope, the ports, the cannulas and the training. We’ll be able to broadcast the view as you operate, the producers think it will be a real ratings winner.’
‘Is that my consolation prize?’
‘Devon! Devon!’ Bets came running up the stairs, her curls bouncing with agitation, a phone in her hand. ‘It’s Ella. She’s frantic.’
‘Ella! Are you OK?’ His heart thumped. Had Patrick done something to her?
‘Devon, it’s Tess,’ said Ella, her voice thin and reedy. ‘She’s eaten chocolate. A whole box. She’s been really sick and now she’s just lying here.’ The words rattled out at speed, but he was already moving. He let out the pent-up breath. This he could deal with.
‘OK, sweetheart. It’s OK. Don’t worry. First, do you know how much chocolate she’s eaten and what kind?’
‘Fortnum and Mason. A whole box, maybe 250 grams, I don’t know,’ her voice went up in a wail.
Shit, that was potentially a lot of chocolate.
‘OK. Don’t worry. Tess will be OK but we need to establish the type of chocolate. Can you find the packaging? I need to know what’s in them.’
Even as she said quietly ‘OK,’ he began barking orders at Bets to grab a few essentials from the pharmacy.
‘I’m on way. I’ll be there in two ticks.’ He clicked off the phone. ‘Bets, we might have to wash out Tess’s stomach. Get the charcoal out.’
Marina trotted after him down the stairs.
‘I’m sure you could use an extra pair of hands.’
‘Whatever.’
She hopped in the Volvo next to him and he drove the short distance to Ella’s cottage. The door was ajar and he pushed it open, hearing Marina clicking on her heels up the front path. Ella sat on the kitchen floor, kneeling beside Tess. He dropped beside her, giving her cold hand a quick squeeze before turning his attention to the dog.
The place was a mess; Tess had already been very sick, which was a good sign, but she lay pathetically, her side heaving, making tiny pitiful moans. Her trusting eyes were focused on Ella.
‘Hi, I’m Dr Marina Scott.’ Marina waltzed in, holding her hand out to a frightened-looking Ella. He could quite happily have killed Marina for tagging along.
‘Hi,’ she replied faintly.
‘You don’t need to worry about a thing. Your dog is in really good hands.’ She bent down next to him as he took the dog’spulse. Racing along at runaway train speed, it was faster than he would have liked. They needed to hurry and he wished that Marina would stop leaning against him like that.
‘What’s her pulse doing?’ Marina asked.
Devon rolled his eyes. What the hell did she think it was doing? They weren’t on frigging telly now.
‘It’s higher than I’d like.’ He avoided looking at Ella. He didn’t think he could keep the seriousness of the situation out of his eyes.
Marina rattled off some technical phrases but thankfully Ella seemed to be too focused on Tess’s heaving flanks to take much in, which was just as well as Marina was spouting complete rubbish. Any idiot could see the dog’s heart was beating too damn fast, you didn’t need to dress it up as supraventricular tachycardia.
‘Please help her, Devon.’
‘We will,’ said Marina, her eyes soulfully sympathetic as she patted Ella’s hands. ‘You need to let Devon do his job. He’s a wonderful vet. Don’t you worry. We’ll have this young man back on his feet in no time.’
‘She’s a she,’ whispered Ella as Devon suddenly barked impatiently, ‘Marina, could you help? You lift Tess’s back legs. We’ll get her back to the surgery in the car.’
