‘I don’t think so, but I’m no expert,’ she said.
‘Right. Well, let’s take a look.’ He came forward and started unravelling her bandages.
Bobby looked at the other man, who was taking in this scene of chaos with a bewildered look on his face. ‘Who’s this, Charlie?’
‘Roger,’ Charlie said absently. ‘Your sister told me I could bring him to the surgery. Remember?’
‘Oh.’ Bobby rubbed her head. ‘Yes. Sorry, I’d forgotten.’
‘Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?’
‘I’ll tell you all about it once you’ve checked our Lil over.’ Bobby summoned a smile for Roger. ‘I’m so sorry about this, Mr Turner. Let me show you into the surgery. Charlie can join us when he’s done with his patient.’
‘She makes me sound like a poorly spaniel,’ Lil muttered while Charlie pressed his fingers against her lump.
‘Right,’ said the dazed-looking Roger. He followed Bobby to the surgery.
‘Um, so these are the instruments,’ she said when they were inside, gesturing vaguely. ‘All in excellent condition, as you can see. A real bargain at… whatever Charlie said he was willing to sell them for. This one’s a bull emasculator and the rest are for, er… sheep. Sheep things.’
Roger smiled. ‘I take it you didn’t meet him working as a veterinary nurse?’
‘Well observed,’ Bobby said, smiling too. ‘I’m sure he’ll be here in a moment to tell you what everything is. My sister had an accident earlier and my first aid skills are rather rusty, I’m ashamed to say.’
‘Not at all,’ the man said politely. ‘Your bandaging looked first rate.’
He seemed young to be starting his own practice, Bobby thought. Roger Turner couldn’t be more than twenty-two.
‘I know, barely out of the cradle and already opening a surgery of my own,’ Roger said with a laugh, as if reading her thoughts. ‘My old man died recently and left me some money, so I thought why should I be slogging my backside off for any other sod, pardon my French? The problem is finding someone to come in with me. I could use an old hand at my side who’d be able to weigh in with knowledge and advice, but practically everyone not in a practice of their own seems to have gone off to the veterinary corps.’
‘Oh,’ Bobby said, disappointed. ‘So there’s a chance you won’t need to buy Charlie’s instruments after all, then.’
‘Well, I haven’t quite given up hope of finding a partner.’ He looked at her keenly. ‘I was hoping your husband might be interested, but he tells me he doesn’t practise any more. Any idea why?’
Bobby flushed. ‘Well, um, he was injured in the RAF. I shouldn’t say too much when it’s his business, but the injury makes it difficult to do work that requires a steady hand. That’s why he’s selling his instruments.’
‘That’s just it. He wouldn’t need to be involved much on the practical side. I’m after more of a silent partner, if that’s the right term – someone with the experience I lack who’ll take an advisory role, and help train up an apprentice when we’re in a position to take one on. But he turned me down flat when I suggested it.’
‘Really?’
‘Perhaps you could talk to him? The offer’s still open if you think he might change his mind.’
‘Why did he turn you down?’
‘I couldn’t say.’
They were interrupted by Charlie.
‘It’s all right,’ he said to Bobby. ‘No concussion, just a nasty bump. How did she get it anyhow?’
‘She had a fall. I’ll tell you how it happened later.’
Bobby cast another puzzled look in Roger Turner’s direction. Why on earth would Charlie turn down a role that sounded so eminently suitable for him, when she knew he longed to return to veterinary work? A partnership where his role was advisory rather than practical sounded ideal – more than ideal. It could have been made for him. Bobby couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t bite this new friend’s hand off.
‘So, did you show Roger everything?’ Charlie asked her.
‘I showed him the bull emasculator.’
Charlie shook his head. ‘It really worries me that that’s the only one you ever remember. Come on, Roger, let me talk you through it all.’
