Читать книгу Magpie - Sophie Draper - Страница 18

The emergency exit door of the veterinary stockroom slammed open, bouncing against the brick wall. Duncan stepped out into the cold air. His fists were closed tight and a fierce expression creased his face.

The door pushed open again and Paula appeared in the doorway.

‘Fucking idiot!’ said Duncan.

He pushed a hand into his trouser pocket, searching for a new stick of chewing gum. He knew Paula was there but didn’t turn round.

‘How can anyone claim to love their animal,’ he said. ‘Then demand it be put down just because it’s incontinent!’

But this was Garfield, so he wasn’t that surprised. Paula didn’t reply, standing on the doorstep as if waiting for him to vent his fury. She was still relatively new to the practice, but she already seemed to have the measure of Duncan.

‘He wanted me to put the dog down!’ he carried on. ‘Garfield doesn’t deserve any animal! It’s all very well when they’re cute and cuddly and doing what they’re told, but when they grow elderly and actually need a bit of time and attention, funny how the love dries up!’

‘It’s not as simple as that. It never is,’ said Paula. She stepped away from the door.

‘Isn’t it? Then how should it be?’ Duncan swung round.

He was caught up again by her red hair; it had been hard to ignore it when he’d interviewed her – a bright, lustrous natural red. Her academic credentials had been impeccable.

‘It’s hard looking after a dog when you get to Garfield’s age,’ she said.

‘So why have one?’ he snapped back.

‘Company, affection – he clearly lives on his own.’

‘Then he should be more loving towards his animal. Don’t be fooled by Garfield’s doddery old man routine! That man’s been coming here for years. He knows exactly what he’s doing.’

Garfield had always liked to play a part. Just because you were old and apparently fragile, thought Duncan, didn’t make you a nice person.

‘Jeez – you’ve really got it in for him, haven’t you?’

‘Aye, and I’ve good reason to. He couldn’t care tuppence for his dog!’

‘He must do or he wouldn’t come down here like he does – particularly given how you treat him!’

‘And how would you know, Paula?’

Duncan’s fingers closed into a fist. Paula’s eyes dropped to his hands and then back to his face and there was an imperceptible tightening of her expression. Duncan felt a twinge of guilt. She didn’t know Garfield came here because the treatment was free, how could she? She’d barely been at the practice six months. Duncan had kept it quiet. It wouldn’t do if everyone thought he was a soft touch. Not that it was an act of generosity, but the whole story was complicated, and only Sally and Frances knew. The man still pressed his buttons, though – now even more so.

‘Don’t take it out on me!’ said Paula. ‘I deal with these people every day, remember!’ She was flushed with anger.

Duncan let out a deep breath. Paula was right to push back. Perhaps he should tell her.

‘I’m sorry, Paula; really I am. He comes here because we give him free treatment – I don’t normally do that and it’s a long story. And I’d be grateful if you didn’t say anything to the others. Trust me, the man’s a dick.’

He let his fingers relax, reaching up to push them over his head.

‘I just can’t stand it some days.’

Today, he meant. And yesterday. And the day before that. What was he doing? This wasn’t about Garfield, was it? He couldn’t say her name. Claire’s name. He couldn’t put it into words. The feelings that simmered each day. Battened down, as if nothing had happened.

He rummaged in his pocket. He couldn’t find his chewing gum and he was desperate for a smoke, despite having given up years ago. Or maybe what he really needed was a drink. He took another long breath, trying to will the blood pumping through his body to slow. His hands opened and closed, thinking of the club he’d gone to in Derby the other night. He refused to look at Paula now. No, what he really wanted was a shag, a quick, sharp shag like when he and Claire had first got together – the thrill of fumbling, youthful, irresponsible student sex … A million miles and years ago from now.

He could never actually put it into words, but he missed her.

‘Duncan …’

It was Frances. She was standing behind Paula, looking anxiously at her boss. She gave a small gesture to Paula, who nodded and left.

Frances waited until Paula had gone.

‘You need to be careful, Duncan,’ she said. ‘I know you have every reason to be upset, we all do, but … are you sure you should be here? Why don’t you take a few days off? We’ll cope. It’s—’

‘No!’ he said. ‘I’m not taking a fucking holiday.’

He could see Frances wince at the language. He turned to face her.

‘I can’t, not now, there’s too much going on. There are operations lined up, procedures that Tim and Paula aren’t qualified to do. I can’t take time out like that.’

Tim was the other vet, more senior than Paula. Duncan scowled. Did he sound arrogant? Probably, but it was true, they didn’t have the knowledge yet that he had and the whole business was predicated on his expertise. Work, the surgery, it had been his life’s ambition, opening up his own practice. Claire had done a lot to help make that possible. No, he wasn’t having it. Frances had said enough, hadn’t she? She thought she had the right.

He pushed away from the wall and walked towards the road. Frances sighed and turned back to the door to leave. Then at the last minute she swung round.

‘Claire’s gone!’

Her voice carried across the staff car park, louder but sympathetic. Frances had a knack of getting to the crux of a matter regardless of what was being said.

‘She’s not coming back,’ she continued. ‘You need to accept it and let go.’

Duncan didn’t know how to reply. To anyone else, her words would have seemed harsh. Only Frances could get away with saying that. Older and wiser, she’d always been direct. It was one of the reasons Duncan liked working with her.

‘It’s not like that …’ He paused mid-stride. He wasn’t sure that he believed his own words. ‘She’s … she … is still my wife.’ He pushed his hands into his pockets, scrabbling again for the gum.

‘Not anymore,’ she said. There was a bitterness in her words. ‘And then there’s Joe …’

Duncan’s head jerked up. Frances had her hand on the back door again in readiness to leave. Her eyes held his gaze. He didn’t reply. It was the one bone of contention between them. Him and Claire and Joe and … Frances had always taken him to task over Claire and Joe. And he’d let her, hadn’t he? But she didn’t know all of it.

Once more the stockroom door bounced back against the brick wall, the sound reverberating across the car park.