Pets in Prospect - Malcolm D. Welshman [23]
But the finish of another hectic Friday surgery a few weeks later had me over there, cajoled by Eric – just for a quick jar. Or two.
‘You do realise this is becoming a bit of a habit,’ I said.
‘What the heck. You need to wind down a bit. Relax,’ he replied. No mention was made of whether Crystal approved or not. I decided it was best not to ask.
The list and charity box had disappeared. Hmmm … not a good sign, I thought uneasily. Bernie seemed cheerful enough, though did I detect a slight hollowness in his bonhomie? But I had to ask the question. ‘So how did it go?’
‘Well … it sort of worked,’ he said, pulling a face as he pulled our pints.
‘Come on, Bernie. What do you mean “sort of”?’ said Eric.
Bernie shrugged. ‘As soon as the regulars realised how much it was costing them in calorie finds, the titbits stopped.’
‘Well, there you are, our plan worked then. It must have helped Peggy’s diet.’
Bernie flapped his jug ears and looked doubtful. ‘Well, I tell you. Peggy’s not half the dog she used to be.’
I choked on my lager. What was he on about? Not half the dog? Had something gone wrong? Had the dieting upset her?
‘See for yourself,’ said Bernie, raising the bar flap. Unable to control himself any longer, he burst out laughing as Peggy trotted through, the half-dog he’d mentioned … streamlined, fit, half the weight she used to be.
‘She looks fantastic,’ I said. ‘Well done. I bet Brenda’s pleased.’
‘In more ways than one,’ said Bernie still chuckling. He pointed a finger over my shoulder.
‘Good lord,’ spluttered Eric. ‘Who’d have thought …’
I spun round to find Brenda, hands on hips, in a figure-hugging black dress, the figure it hugged being a shadow of its former self. She twisted her hips and gave a little twirl.
‘Good, eh?’ she said. She went on to explain, ‘Lucy was a great help. She lent me all the books on calorie control and seemed to know quite a bit about dieting. I thought it was worth a go. So, what do you think? Do you approve?’
There was a loud woof from Peggy.
‘Sorry,’ added Brenda. ‘I should have included Peggy. Seeing that she was able to lose so many pounds I didn’t see why I couldn’t do the same.’
Except you weren’t snuffling round customers eagerly looking for titbits, I mused. The thought made me smile. I looked down at Peggy. Was she thinking the same? Her lopsided grin suggested she was.
A TURN FOR THE BETTER
It was amazing how those first few weeks at Prospect House flew by, weeks in which I rarely met up with Crystal for more than a brief exchange of pleasantries. No doubt my tête-à-têtes with Eric filtered back to her, though no action had yet been taken regarding the practice cottage. I was kept in the picture as to her movements – Beryl made sure of that. Each day she referred to Crystal’s list of visits as those ‘special clients’, and Mandy made sure Tuesdays were kept sacrosanct for Crystal’s orthopaedic surgery in particular. It seemed our Dr Sharpe was destined to take the high road through the practice while I took the much humbler track that wound through the routine spays, castrates, dentals and more run-of-the-mill consultations.
So it was with some surprise that she stopped me in the corridor a few days before the summer bank holiday. ‘Paul, I’ve been meaning to have a word,’ she said, flashing me one of her perfect smiles – no overshot jaw or crooked teeth for her. ‘Have you a moment?’
Though a question, it didn’t require an answer. If asked for a moment from Crystal, you had to spare it whether or not there were several anal glands waiting to be expressed in the waiting room. A well-manicured, unvarnished nail pointed to the office. ‘Shall we?’
With the door closed, Crystal gestured to a chair. I sat down while she leaned against the desk, a hand to each side, lightly grasping the edge. She looked