Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
W ith just seven days to go, Samantha had allowed me to work half a day today, or rather she was getting sick of my holiday talk and didn’t put up much of a fight when I asked to leave early, so I decided to nip home to get changed and then headed out to buy some last-minute holiday bits. There might be some bikinis in the sale. A few more couldn’t hurt.
It was a humid day today. I hated trying on clothes when I’d been this warm. I wondered if I could manage to fit in a quick shower before I set off. I would be in a better mood for shopping if I felt fresh.
Zack was finishing work early too, but had decided to go straight to his flat to do some more holiday packing and make a start on sorting out his things for the big move, so wouldn’t be with me until later on tonight. We’d decided that the official move-in date would be when we returned from Crete, so there wouldn’t be any need to rush to get all his belongings across. We could just focus on the holiday.
I’d be on my own for tea today for the first time in ages. I wanted to try to be healthy so I didn’t put on any unwanted pounds before the big holiday, but with the choice of easy, delicious fast food on offer at the shopping centre… So much temptation.
I ran through my front door and threw my keys on the stairs, not wanting to waste a moment so I could get back out as soon as possible.
“Bing!” I waved my hand for him to come inside, but he just ignored me and ran down the driveway before I could grab him. “Oh, fine. Stay out there then.” I was still a little annoyed at him for throwing up on our coats. Of all the places in the house, particularly all the places with laminate floor where things can be easily wiped up, why our coats?
I heard Bing’s cries through my open bedroom window as I dried myself after a quick shower.
“I’m coming,” I called to him, as he wailed louder than usual. There was no shade, so I bet his little paws were burning on the tarmac. He usually liked to sit under the table, protected from the sun and looking out over his territory like a king, but not today for some reason. “I’m coming, Bing.”
Within minutes, I was pulling on my comfy white pumps, grabbing my bag, and running down the stairs to let the cat back in, but something about his cry grabbed my attention.
“Here you are, you silly sod,” I said to Bing as he ran into the hallway. He let out a meow that sounded more like a moan. And another, louder one. He stopped in his tracks and shook his head from side to side. “What’s the matter?” I dropped my bag on the floor. There seemed to be something in his mouth. “Come here.” I knelt on the floor beside him, but he turned away from me and growled. Even by Bing’s grumpy standards, this was out of character. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me look. Come here,” I said again more firmly, getting worried. His mouth was wide open, drool was dripping on the floor. He seemed agitated. Had he been bitten by something? He liked chasing spiders, it would be just my luck that he found the only black widow spider in Yorkshire.
Out of his mouth dropped a wasp, desperately trying to cling to life. Its wings moved slowly as its legs tried to find some grip on the floor, which was covered in Bing’s saliva. Without hesitation, I grabbed a discarded shoe and whacked it without mercy.
I looked back to Bing whose eyes were wide. There was a pool of drool by his feet now and he was panting heavily. His little cheeks started to swell. Was it possible to go a year without this cat causing some potentially expensive drama?
Pulling out my phone, I quickly called the vets who, let’s face it, may as well have been on speed dial by now, and explained what had just happened. The receptionist put me on hold to speak to the vet, returning within a minute, telling me to bring him in straight away.
This was going to be pricey.
I left Bing in the hallway so I could retrieve the flatpack cat carrier from under the stairs. Hunched over, he didn’t move. He was too focused on breathing to worry about what I was doing.
“It’s okay, Bing, it’s okay.” I opened up the carrier, getting angry at the zips for not cooperating with my shaking fingers, until it was finally open. I effortlessly scooped Bing up and placed him gently inside, hearing him growl at being moved, but there was no attempt to put up a fight. That was an angry growl. I hoped it wasn’t Dr Stevens on duty today. Please, don’t be Dr Stevens.
Dr Stevens opened the door to his treatment room and scanned the waiting area full of people and their pets of all shapes and sizes. He did notice me sitting with Bing. However, he seemed to purposely avoid making eye contact with us. He approached the receptionist, who pointed in our direction. The colour drained from his face.
“Do you want to come this way?” he said with very little enthusiasm.
I followed him into the room and placed the growling carrier on the examination table in front of the reluctant vet.
“So, do you want to tell me what’s happened?”
I relayed the story to him. “Do you think he’s having an allergic reaction?” I asked, panicking. Bing’s breathing could be heard from inside his carrier.
“I’ll… I’ll have to examine him.” I could sense his apprehension. Vets were supposed to love and respect all animals, however, this was no normal animal. This was Bing. And Dr Stevens bore the scars to prove it. “Has he vomited at all? Diarrhoea?”
“No.” At least I couldn’t smell anything going on in his carrier. With fur as white as Bing’s I’d surely notice something. “Nothing like that.”
“Do you…” He exhaled loudly, preparing himself for what had to come next. “Do you want to get him out and I can have a look. It was in his mouth, you say?” He stroked his scarred hand, remembering the horrors of Bing’s teeth.
“Yes, definitely in his mouth. The wasp just flopped out onto the floor.”
Bing came out of the carrier very easily. He seemed disorientated, but clearly in pain, which was awful to witness. I think even the vet was feeling sorry for him. Without instruction, I held on to him so he couldn’t move, knowing Dr Stevens was going to have to look in his mouth.
Carefully, oh-so carefully, Dr Stevens opened Bing’s mouth, knowing that he had a duty of care to this savage animal. Bing allowed him to look inside with a small light, but only for a few seconds before pulling away.
“Well, I think he’s only been stung the once, which is good, but it’s on the back of his tongue,” Dr Stevens said, removing his gloves. “It’s swollen, which is why he’s struggling to breathe, but there are no signs of an allergic reaction. I can give him something for the pain, to see if that helps to relax him a little, while the swelling goes down. But in a few hours, tomorrow morning at the latest, I expect he’ll be back to normal.”
“Oh, thank you.” I smiled. “That’s such a relief. When he was hunched over and struggling to breathe, I really panicked.”
“Cats are notorious for getting stung by wasps and bees. Mostly wasps. Bees have the sense to fly away. Wasps fight back and then, well, this happens. And always this time of year too, when wasps are everywhere and cats see an opportunity to chase and pounce.”
I watched as Dr Stevens prepared a small injection that would hopefully give Bing some comfort.
“Well, thank you so much for seeing us. I know he isn’t your favourite patient.”
“I can’t deny that Bing and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, but you never know, we might be best friends one day.” He turned around with the needle ready. “Before that day comes though, do you want to hold him down again? Just in case.”
As Zack was away for the evening, I called him on the way home from the vets to fill him in on the drama.
“Is he all right? Does he need to stay there overnight?” He had been so concerned for his buddy. “I can come back if you want?”
“Not necessary, he’s on the back seat in his carrier growling to himself, so no different to normal.” I sighed. “So, it looks like I can’t go shopping now. I’ll have to go on this posh holiday with my old raggy clothes and out-of-date bikinis. I hope they still fit.”
“Whatever you have will be absolutely fine, I’m sure,” he said. “You always look amazing, so please don’t worry.”
“Thank you,” I turned into my road, “I’m almost home. I’ll leave you to your evening.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
When I’d got Bing home, he stumbled out of his carrier and ran into the living room and on to the sheepskin rug by the fire, curling up into a ball. I brought his food and water to him, so he didn’t need to go too far if he woke up hungry or thirsty, and then settled myself at the kitchen table to call Sarah. It rang several times before she picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, are you busy?” I asked. “I was wondering if you wanted to call over for a coffee and keep me and Bing company?”
“Oh, well actually,” she hesitated, “I just wanted a quiet night tonight. Do you mind?”
“Of course not, it’s last minute. Blame Bing, he went to battle with a wasp and ruined my shopping plans. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m just tired. I had a full day of meetings, just one after another.” I heard her hold back a yawn.
“That sounds rubbish. How’s the dating app going?” I hadn’t heard about any impending dates since we last went on it together.
“It’s going okay. There was a guy who messaged me who seems nice… normal, even. We might be arranging something for tomorrow.”
“Oh, exciting! Tell me about him. It’s not the postman, is it?” I teased.
“Ha, no, not him. I’ll tell you about him after I meet him. We’ve spoken quite a bit, sent a lot of messages back and forth. We were messaging until one o’clock this morning actually, which probably wasn’t the best idea and it’s probably why I’m so tired now.” She stopped to yawn again. “Alessandro has been quite chatty too. We had a phone call the other night. It was nice to hear his voice again.”
“You should go back to see him,” I suggested. “Take a few romantic days away.”
“Ha, maybe. He suggested that too. Have you started packing for your romantic holiday? One week to go! I bet you’re so giddy now.”
“Not packed yet, plenty of time for that, but I’m so excited. And now he’s moving in I can’t tell you how happy I am. There’s so much to look forward to.” I smiled to myself. “Oh, we need to arrange a date to bring Bing over before I go. When is best for you?”
“Ah yes, bring him anytime, I don’t mind when. You’ve got a key so you can just let yourself in if I’m not here.” She yawned again.
“Sorry if I’m keeping you up. I’ll get off if you want to relax for the evening.”
“Don’t say sorry. I’m fine, honestly, just had a long day and think I’m getting a headache.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll leave you to rest and we’ll chat later.”
“Call me in a few days and I’m sure I’ll be feeling better. And we can finalise a day for you to bring Bing over.”
“Sounds like a plan. Speak soon.”
I put my phone down and went to check on Bing, who was now in a deep sleep on the rug. This time last year he had gone missing, and I’d spent so long worried about where he was and what he was doing. This year, he decided to sample a live wasp. I wondered what drama he would bring on us all next.