Thirty
Sally placed her knife and fork together on the plate and pushed it away.
‘That’s it! I’m done!’
‘But you haven’t eaten all your chips.’
‘Nick, when you told me the steaks were tasty, you omitted to mention that they’re big enough to give Desperate Dan a run for his money! The chips were collateral damage tonight!’
‘Mind if I take a few?’
‘Knock yourself out! I’m stuffed!’
She watched Nick scoop half of the remaining fries onto his plate and wolf them down.
‘How can you possibly be that trim while hoovering up not only your own dining-table sized steak, but most of my chips too?’
‘The fun side of being a country vet is the amount of time you spend traipsing over fields, climbing over walls, gates, and fences, and running from angry cattle. All that soon works off any extra calories.’
‘But I bet you enjoy every moment of it and wouldn’t change it for anything.’
‘You’re right there. I love it.’
‘You know how doctors can garner a lot of “attention” from some of their lady patients, is it the same for vets?’
‘We do get our fair share of that, it has to be said. I mean, Daisy over at Waterford Farm, fair shakes her udders when she sees me crossing the field!’
‘Oh you!’ Sally laughed at his silly comment. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I do but you made that too easy for me,’ he grinned.
When he smiled like that, Sally could see again why his receptionist had to fend off the female clients and she liked how he’d batted away that he did in fact receive a lot of “attention”!
‘The problem with being a vet or a doctor or a policeman etc, is that people see what they perceive as the glamorous side. They don’t take into account the long hours, the emergency call-outs at three in the morning, being late for dates because an operation was more complicated than expected and took longer than anticipated and they sure as hell don’t understand how it affects you when one of your patients doesn’t make it. It doesn’t matter if it’s a cow, a dog, or a human being – a life being snuffed out hurts on every level.’
He looked over the table at her.
‘Sorry, I probably sound quite bitter but it was all of the above that caused my marriage to break down.’
‘Oh, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’
‘No reason why you should. I was working in London, met my wife there and she simply wasn’t prepared when I moved back to work with my father. A vet’s life in Clapham is a lifetime away from life in the country.’
‘Yes, I get that. I haven’t seen many cows grazing on Clapham Common any time I’ve gone by…’
Nick smiled at her comment.
‘I wouldn’t fancy their chances, to be honest! They’d be steak before the day was out!’
‘So, not missing London much, then?’
‘No. I enjoyed it while I was there but I love the life I live now, even if it’s a single one.’
‘I’m sure there are plenty of young ladies in the Ditchley area who’d be happy to un-single you.’
‘Maybe, but I’m not ready to go there yet. I still need time.’
‘I understand that. So, to completely change the subject in the least subtle manner possible, we have six candidates to talk about and decide if we want to offer second interviews to any of them. And since you’re the expert around here, why don’t you go first. From a professional viewpoint, who would be your two choices out of the six?’
‘Simon Groves gets my first vote and Juliet Turner at a push.’
‘Well, I think you already know what I’m going to say… Juliet Turner, hands down, and Simon Groves only if he was the very last vet left on the planet!’
‘Even if he is the most qualified?’
‘He can have all the qualifications in the world but if people don’t like him, then they won’t come to us.’
‘I think they will, given the size of our catchment area.’
‘Not a good enough reason, so let me put it another way. Tiddles is under the weather so his owner, trusting what we represent, brings him in to be seen. It turns out that Tiddles has pancreatitis but it’s been caught early and is treatable. All because he was diagnosed at the first sign of a problem. Now… you put a bloke in charge who looks at the profit margin and thinks women are second-class citizens… Tiddles won’t be brought in early because his lady owner doesn’t feel comfortable doing so. She’s worried she’ll be made to feel she’s a time waster because of how the vet speaks to her. So Tiddles suffers through and eventually looks to be doing okay. The owner believes she made the right decision. Except a few months later, Tiddles collapses, he’s rushed to the surgery where it transpires he has pancreatic cancer and due to the speed at which this variant of cancer can spread, it’s game over for him. It’s too late.
‘I won’t work with someone who intimidates and patronises the clients. I’ve already told you before that I’ve dealt with vets of that ilk in the past and believe me when I say, they weren’t my vet for long. Do not underestimate the need for trust and faith in this.’
She stopped to take a sip from her wine glass and to give Nick a chance to speak after her little speech.
‘I see your point. Because I work with farmers who, while they care for their animals, have a different way of looking at things and I can be remiss in remembering that small animals are generally considered to be members of the family these days. Yes, you’re right, we would benefit from someone with a more empathetic nature.’
‘Exactly. So, while Simon Groves may be perfect for sticking his hand up a cow’s arse – as long as he’s taken his head out of his own first – I wouldn’t let him within a mile of my Herbert.’
‘Then I think that leaves us with Juliet Turner.’
‘I believe it does.’
Nick smiled at her before taking another drink of his beer. As he placed the glass back down, he said, ‘You took to her almost immediately. Why?’
‘She’s a straight talker, which I always like, she answered my question honestly and without hesitation and she said what I wanted to hear. For her, the animals come first, not the profit. I want to be sure that if an elderly person comes to the surgery, who cannot afford expensive treatments, they will still be given the same high level of care than if they’d arrived dripping diamonds from every finger.’
‘But you’re not a charity, Sally—’
‘Once again, Nick, that’s exactly what I’ll be! You need to remember that my rescue is the foundation to all of this. Without the rescue, I have no need for a vet or a vet’s surgery. I’m doing this for purely selfish reasons but if other people can benefit from it too…’
‘Very well. So, I guess we’re asking Juliet back. If we decide she’s not for us, what then?’
‘We go back to the drawing board and re-advertise the position. And we keep doing that until the right person comes along. I’m not prepared to compromise on this, Nick, it’s too important to me.’
‘If you insist…’
‘Nick, I must be comfortable with my vet because I could be dragging them out of their beds at silly o’clock in the morning due to a young cat having difficulties with a pregnancy, or a stray that’s been badly treated and needs immediate attention. I must know they will step up to the plate without huffing and puffing at me or making me feel inferior. I’m sorry to keep harping back to this but it has to be someone I have trust and faith in.’
‘No, I get it. I really do. I can see this means a lot to you and as they will technically be your vet, you get to make the call. Quite literally! You get to call Juliet to invite her back.’
‘Cool! I will do that first thing in the morning.’
‘I just want to check one last thing…’
Nick took his tablet from his briefcase and spent a couple of moments scrolling through it. Sally took another sip of her wine and waited, enjoying the feeling of relief that she’d managed to bring him round to her way of thinking. Urgh! The thought of having Simon Groves anywhere near her precious rescue made her stomach churn. No way! Not ever!
‘Hmm, it is as I thought…’
‘What is?’
Nick slid his tablet over the table.
‘Juliet is on a six-month maternity cover contract and still has four months to work.’
‘I’m happy to wait, it’s only an extra month to what we expected.’
‘Oh, I have no problem with that but didn’t you want to allow whoever came on board carte blanche with organising the surgery and setting it up to their own spec?’
‘Yes, that’s supposed to be one of the sweeteners for the role. That it really would be “their” surgery.’
‘Well, by the time Juliet – assuming we’re all good and she takes the job – gets here, decides what she wants, puts in her orders for the equipment etc, then add on delivery time and installation… it could easily be another seven to eight months before the surgery is completed. Which means you won’t be able to take in any animals until February – at the earliest.’
‘What? But that’s going to be almost a year in total from when I first found the farm. I thought I’d be good to go within about six or seven months. I really wanted it to be open by Christmas.’
Sally felt her heart fill with dismay as she thought of the rescue centres she knew who were crying out for spaces because they were already full beyond capacity. She’d hoped to give them a degree of respite by taking some of their feline occupants off them.
‘There is another option. If Juliet takes the job, ask her to spend a day with us both where we can go to the site and discuss it with her. Once we know what her preferences are, we – or you – can get on with arranging the building work and I can get the equipment ordered. That will save us time.’
‘Now that sounds like a good plan and I get the feeling Juliet would be okay with doing that. I also wouldn’t want to keep Matt hanging around unnecessarily.’
‘Matt?’
‘My builder.’
‘Of course. Those guys are always in high demand – if he gets caught up on another job, it could take even longer.’
‘Oh hell! I didn’t even think of that. Right, what’s Juliet’s phone number, I’m calling her now!’