Читать книгу Vets and Pets 2: Jamie and the Horse Show - Helen Brain - Страница 6

An unwelcome visitor

“Jamie,” Arabella called up the stairs a few days later. “Unathi has taken a few days leave. I need someone to help me for a couple of hours.”

Jamie jumped up eagerly. She was stuck on her maths homework and her drippy cousin, Fifi, commonly known as Fleaflea, was hanging around being annoying. Ever since her aunt got a new job, Fifi had to come over every day after school and Jamie never seemed to be able to get rid of her. But she wasn’t going to let her mother know how much she wanted the job.

“I might be able to help. Will you pay me?” she called back.

“Same as I pay you to pack away the dog food, fifty rand an hour,” Arabella said.

“Sixty,” said Jamie. “And double for overtime. Horses are expensive, Mom.”

“Thith, Jamie,” Fleaflea said, shaking her head as Jamie ran down the stairs. “You thhouldn’t athk your mommy for money. You thhould be a nithe, helpful girl.”

Jamie ignored her. A few hours peace from Fleaflea and the chance to earn some money was just what she needed.

In the surgery Jamie pulled on a white coat, and was soon busy in the animal hospital. Arabella had been spaying dogs that morning, and Jamie’s first job was to check that all the dogs were properly awake from their anaesthetics.

She was amazed to see that they were all sitting up and wagging their tails. Jamie was sure that she wouldn’t be so cheerful if she had just had surgery. She checked that they hadn’t pulled out their stitches or chewed off their plasters. Finally she gave each a small bowl of water.

In the last cage was a Labrador puppy. He had eaten something rotten on his walk a few days before and had been very sick when his owner brought him in. He was still on a drip, but was looking much better.

Jamie rubbed his fuzzy head. “Hello, Spuddy. How are you feeling, Boy?” she murmured. Spuddy wagged his tail and licked her hand. “Mom says you can have a bit of food seeing you’re not vomiting anymore.” Jamie scooped a couple of spoons of a special diet into a bowl and gave it to the puppy. He wolfed it down without stopping to breathe. Obviously his appetite was back.

A few minutes later the consulting room door opened. “Jamie, can you come and help in here a minute, please?” Arabella called.

Arabella was in the consulting room with Mrs Van Heerden and Fluffy, a fifty kilogram Rottweiler with a bad attitude and foul smelling breath. He was muzzled but still snarling and growling. His owner was a tiny woman and there was no way she could hold the dog while Arabella examined him.

“He has an abscess in his mouth,” Arabella told Jamie. “I have to give him an injection of antibiotics. If it doesn’t clear up in a few days, we will have to sedate him and extract the tooth.”

“Will he be alright, Doc?” Mrs Van Heerden asked. “Is that why he’s been in such a bad mood? Is it dangerous?”

“Only to me,” Arabella said, looking at the hostile dog and gritting her teeth. She pulled on a glove and extracted liquid from a tiny bottle and into the injection needle. “Right, Jamie, you and Mrs Van Heerden hold his head tight.”

Jamie grabbed Fluffy’s collar, and Arabella gently inserted the needle into his skin. He gave a roar and jumped free. In a second he had whipped around and knocked Arabella over. He stood over her snarling. Stinky saliva dripped from the sides of his muzzle onto Arabella’s coat.

“Heel, Fluffy!” shouted Mrs Van Heerden. She grabbed hold of Fluffy’s head and tugged him away. Arabella struggled to her feet and straightened her glasses.

“Sorry, Doc,” apologised Mrs Van Heerden. “He caught us by surprise. Can you hold him tighter, girlie?”

“We’ll have one more try,” Arabella said, looking at the big dog dubiously.

Mrs Van Heerden caught Fluffy in her grip again, and Jamie took his collar and they held their breaths as Arabella had another go. This time she stuck in the needle quickly and injected the medicine. Fluffy whined and shook his head, splattering them all with his disgusting saliva.

“Gross,” squeaked Jamie.

“Sorry, Doc,” shrieked Mrs van Heerden.

“Well, that should do it,” Arabella said, wiping down her glasses with some paper towel. “All in a day’s work. Pop him in the car while I clean up and get him some tablets. Jamie, open the door for Mrs Van Heerden.”

The waiting room was crowded, and Fluffy couldn’t wait to get out of the surgery. He shoved past a smartly dressed woman and her daughter coming through the door. Jamie’s heart sank. It was the snooty girl from the riding school. Shardonnay.

“What’s that disgusting smell?” Shardonnay asked, looking Jamie up and down. “Have you trodden in something?”

Jamie blushed. “It’s nothing. I mean it is something, but it’s not me … I haven’t trodden in anything …”

“We’re new in town, and my pedigreed Chihuahua will only eat Costalot Premium dog food,” the smart lady said to Ilona, the receptionist. “I’m not sure a small vet practice like this one will stock it, but I need a small bag of the food, and a flea and tick collar …”

“Costalot?” Ilona said. “We’ve got some in the back. I’ll fetch it.”

Just then Arabella came out of the surgery with a pill container. “Jamie, won’t you take this to Mrs Van Heerden, please? She’s in her car.”

The smart woman stared at her. “Arabella? I’d have known you anywhere!”

Arabella stared back. “Um …”

“It’s me, silly. Liberty.”

“Liberty van Rensburg? We were at school together?”

“Exactly, except I’m Liberty Barker-Polls now. I married Roddy Barker-Polls – you might have read about him in the papers – big businessman?”

“Good Lord,” said Arabella, taking a step back and examining the glamorous woman. “You look fantastic. I didn’t recognise you.”

“We were all puppy fat and frizzy hair back in seventh grade, weren’t we,” Liberty chortled. “I have to say you haven’t changed a bit. And this must be your daughter.”

Jamie did a double take. Did the woman just insult them?

“This is my daughter, Shardonnay,” Liberty said, pushing the girl forward. “Darling, this is my oldest friend, Arabella. Shardonnay just adores animals, don’t you?”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Shardonnay, tossing back her long blond plait. “You’ve got something in your hair.”

Arabella looked flustered. She grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped off a blob of stinking goo. “This is my daughter, Jamie,” she said. “She’s been working for me today.”

“We know each other,” Shardonnay said, wrinkling her perfect little nose. “I watched her lesson this week when I was waiting for mine. I thought you did quite well for a beginner.”

“I’m not a beginner,” Jamie said, blushing furiously. “I’m the top rider at the school. It was that stupid pony I was riding.”

“Ha-ha,” laughed Liberty. “Do you remember what Miss Jackson, the Domestic Science teacher, always said to us, Arabella? The poor workman always blames his tools. Remember how we used to laugh at her.”

“That was my last patient,” Arabella said, checking the computer screen. “Would you like to come across to the house for a cup of tea?”

“I’m terribly busy,” Liberty said, “but I suppose I can spare a few minutes.”

Jamie’s heart sank. When Shardonnay saw how old and untidy her house was she was going to be even nastier, she knew. And her bedroom was littered with all the clothes and books and CDs she was trying to sell. She’d have to find a way to keep her out of her room.

Liberty and Shardonnay followed them through the gate and across the lawn to their house. Arabella was showing them the patch of Snotterbel and explaining how healthy it was when Fungi came bouncing up to greet them, barking joyfully, followed by a drooping Fifi.

“Eeeeuw,” squealed Shardonnay as Fungi jumped up and put muddy paws on her white jeans. “Go away, go away.”

“Ooh thith!” exclaimed Fifi. “Fungi thtinkth! He’th been rolling in thomething thmelly!”

“Jamie, please shut your dog away,” Arabella snapped. “Look what he’s done to your friend’s pants.”

“She’s not my friend,” muttered Jamie as she dragged Fungi off by the collar. How dare Fifi say he had been rolling in something? He didn’t smell. Then she brightened up. I know, she thought, I’ll shut him in my room. Then Shardonnay won’t be able to come in and criticise all my stuff.

Liberty was looking around the messy hallway when Jamie came back downstairs. “Your house is so quaint,” she said, making the word sound like an infectious disease.

Just then Toby came slouching in from chess club. He saw Shardonnay and his jaw dropped. He smoothed back his hair, flexed his biceps and stuck his skinny chest out.

“Well, hello,” he said, trying to make his voice sound deep. “I’m Tobias. Who are you?”

Shardonnay peeped at him from under her eyelashes and simpered. “I’m Shardonnay.”

This girl is officially sick, Jamie decided. She had to be if she was flirting with Toby.

“Jamie, we’re going to sit in the garden,” Arabella said. “Please, will you make us a pot of tea?”

“I’ll do it, Mom,” Toby said, his voice sliding up into a squeak with excitement. “Do you want to give me a hand, Shardonnay?”

“I’d love to,” she said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“What a lovely boy,” Liberty said. “Not at all like your daughter, is he?”

Jamie’s phone pinged as Shardonnay and Toby disappeared into the kitchen. Excellent! The advert had worked. Someone was coming to buy her old CDs and PC games. “Can you come in about an hour?” she texted back. Shardonnay should be gone by then. She seriously did not need Shardonnay knowing she was selling her old stuff to buy a horse. She’d never hear the end of it.