Chapter 21 #2
He gingerly raised himself into a crouch and crept forward.
When the boat swung round suddenly, it was only Bets’ quick reaction, grabbing his arm, that prevented him from falling into the water.
He got himself into position and held out his hand so that Bets could hand him the dart. He loaded the pipe.
‘Try and get us a bit closer,’ he said quietly and Bob nodded.
The swan’s yellow eyes rolled in fright.
‘There, there, girl. Easy now.’ Even though the animal had no idea what he was saying, Jack always found talking aloud in these situations soothed him and kept him focused on what he needed to do.
The boat veered round quickly and he came face to face with the swan, which immediately went for his face, its big red and black beak socking him on the cheekbone.
He raised the blow pipe to his mouth quickly, ignoring the hum of pain radiating through his skull.
A little pop told him he’d fired and he saw the dart insert itself into the swan’s neck.
The swan shrieked and threw its neck in the air but the dart held fast and it took less than thirty seconds for the bird to start to subside, its wings suddenly uncoordinated and drunken.
‘Bets, hold the other boat so that I can get in.’ As soon as she steadied both boats, he scrambled into the other one and, dodging the swan’s drunken attempt to strike at him, pulled it onto the floor of the boat.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Peter, wheezing out a long, relieved sigh.
He shivered, his hands white and his clothes soaked through and sticking to him.
In the bottom of the boat was a growing puddle of water, the falling rain pattering onto its surface.
‘Am I glad to see you. He’s in a hell of a temper. He’s one angry bird.’
‘Wouldn’t you be, if you had a hook stuck in your flesh and catgut round your leg cutting into the skin?
’ snapped Jack, having quickly assessed the situation.
There was a nasty-looking fish hook embedded in the swan’s neck, and the fishing line had hobbled the bird, tying one leg and wing together.
The tight line was cutting into the feathers and there was blood oozing from underneath the wing.
Jack realised it wasn’t the fisherman’s fault and softened his tone. ‘It’s a she, a pen. Not a male.’
‘Right,’ said Pete, keeping his eyes on the bird. ‘Should I be grateful for that?’
Jack ignored the question. All his sympathy was for a wild animal in considerable distress. The blood staining the pure white feathers worried him and he wanted to assess the damage as quickly as possible.
‘Aggressive buggers.’ Pete gave the bird a malevolent stare.
‘Only when threatened,’ said Jack mildly, hiding his quick surge of anger. The swan had as much right, if not more, to be here. Luckily, swans were protected and belonged to the Crown. By law this incident would have to be reported.
‘Can you row us back to shore?’ asked Jack, gently pulling at the line to see if he could disentangle it. The bird, still conscious, gave him a half-hearted peck. ‘It’s all right, your ladyship,’ he said in quiet soothing tones. ‘We’ll soon have you sorted.’
The boatman began rowing back to the steps while Jack tried to unwind the fine nylon. It was going to be easier to cut it.
‘I need to be alongside the other boat,’ said Jack. ‘Bets, I need the scissors.’
She handed them over as soon as the two boats were close enough. ‘How’s she doing?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think there’s too much damage. There’s a hook in her neck and then the line’s cut into her flesh. We’ll patch her up and give a dose of antibiotic and hopefully both will heal, but as soon as we get to the bank, I’ll be able to have a proper look.’
When they moored, Jack lifted the now limp swan and carefully carried it up the steps in his arms before laying it on the grass.
Bets was right behind him with the veterinary bag.
He peeled off the sodden gloves and she handed him the tweezers before he had to ask.
He worked loose the hook that had lodged itself in the swan’s neck.
He stroked the soft feathers. ‘Poor thing. But you’re going to be all right. ’
He turned to Bets. ‘She’s going to need sutures,’ he said before deftly snipping at the fine nylon wire crisscrossing the bird’s wing and leg.
He ran gentle hands over the bird’s feathered body.
The pen seemed pretty healthy and, apart from a scar on one of her webbed feet, seemed to have got through her life so far relatively unscathed.
‘There’s a nasty cut here, under the wing, where the line’s cut into the flesh.
It’ll need a couple more sutures but nothing’s broken. ’
‘We’ll go with an antibacterial.’ Bets was already unearthing the needle. He didn’t need to tell her what he needed; she was already on it.
‘You want to do it?’ he asked, knowing that she wanted to be involved in taking care of the swan.
‘Me?’ she looked up, her eyes widening. ‘You’re going to let me do it?’
‘Yes.’
‘But I … you…’
‘You are fully qualified,’ he pointed out, surprised by her reaction.
‘I know but you … you’re the vet. I’m just the nurse.’
‘You’re neater and more dextrous.’ He waved his bigger hands, which were white and wrinkled with cold. ‘And probably have more hands-on experience than me.’
They swapped positions so that she could make the tiny stitches necessary. Her hands shook at first and he wasn’t sure if it was the cold or because she’d not done this in front of him before. ‘Get on with it, Bets, we haven’t got all day,’ he snapped.
Her eyes flashed at him and he ducked his head to hide the smile. Angry Bets was formidable and that’s what was needed right now. Later he would ask her about that initial reticence. Would she have done the same with Devon or his dad? He didn’t think so.
Guilt prodded him. Had he held her back, always doing everything, taking the lead, assuming the lead all the time?
Maybe she was going to be better off without him, but suddenly he wasn’t so sure that he would be better off without her.
He was starting to see her in a very different light.
Had done since the wedding, when she’d turned up in that amazing dress, looking like a goddess, as if she had every right to own the world.
It was a shame he had never seen her like that before and equally a shame that she’d never seen herself that way either.