Chapter 77
SEVENTY-SEVEN
‘Imogen, it’s Nancy Miller here. Your dog is in my garden. He’s ill. I’ve called the vet and he needs to get to the surgery as soon as possible. He can’t walk but he’s too heavy for me to lift to my car. Are you nearby?’
Five minutes later, Imogen was racing up the steps to her old garden. She ran towards her pet and dropped to her knees, her face stricken. Then she looked at Nancy.
‘What have you done?’
‘I haven’t done anything . . .’ stammered Nancy. ‘I found him here – on the ground in the snow . . .’
Imogen’s eyes darted around. She saw the swimming pond, a hole smashed in the ice. Had Arthur drunk from it?
‘Help me,’ she demanded, and Nancy bent down. Together they lifted the dog.
‘The car’s up here,’ said Nancy, indicating with her head.
‘I know where the drive is,’ snapped Imogen.
Nancy remained silent after that. Together they laid Arthur onto the back seat, then Nancy drove to the vet’s as quickly as she could.
A nurse in scrubs came out braced against the cold as they pulled up in the car park.
‘How long has he been like this?’ asked the nurse as she and Imogen eased the dog onto a stretcher.
Imogen flashed an accusatory look at Nancy.
‘I don’t know,’ said Nancy. ‘I found him in my garden and he was already collapsed on the ground.’
The nurse nodded and she and Imogen, the dog between them, disappeared into the surgery.
‘You’re welcome,’ Nancy said ruefully under her breath as the door slammed shut.