Pets in Prospect - Malcolm D. Welshman [30]
‘Don’t get too alarmed.’
‘We should be so lucky,’ murmured Lucy, wrapping her rope tightly round her palm.
‘Right. Here we go. Heave!’
We both pulled together.
Clementine emitted a long, deep groan.
‘You’re hurting her,’ cried Hilary.
‘No we’re not,’ I called out. ‘She can’t feel a thing.’ In fact, with the epidural, Clementine couldn’t even contract. Lucy and I were her labour. If we didn’t pull, the foal wouldn’t come out. So pull we did … pull … pull … pull. Slowly, the forelegs emerged, gleaming, steaming, covered in mucus. Then the head popped out, large, domed … to be rapidly followed by the long, brown, sticky body of the colt. He plopped on to the bedding in a pool of yellow fluids.
Hilary jumped to her feet. ‘Oh clever, Clementine,’ she cooed. ‘You’ve produced a wonderful baby.’
‘Yes, well done,’ exclaimed George, echoing his wife’s sentiments.
As for our part in the proceedings … Lucy and I just looked at each other and shrugged. At least Clementine seemed appreciative of our efforts. She gave a whicker of motherly concern and stretched round to give her son his first wash.
‘Well,’ said George as we cleaned ourselves up in the kitchen. ‘It seems congratulations are in order.’ His shoulders smartly jigged up and down.
‘Indeed, yes,’ added Hilary, her white face glowing, her thin lips curled back in a smile. ‘We can’t wait to tell Dr Sharpe.’
I squirmed with pleasure. It’s not every day one receives compliments. So it’s nice to get them when they come. ‘Oh, I’m sure that won’t be necessary,’ I murmured, hoping I said it with the right touch of modesty.
Hilary cut in. ‘She’ll be so pleased to hear how well behaved Clementine was. Such a model patient. It made your task so much easier, I’m sure.’ Her bland, milky eyes blinked at me. Soulless. What a put down.
Dawn was breaking as we drove back over the Downs. The belt of rain had passed to leave a pencil of cloud scoring the pale eastern sky in a ribbon of pink. Below it, the orb of the sun had began to edge up with the promise of another hot day. It looked spectacular from the top of the Downs. So much so that, despite my tiredness, I impulsively swerved into a lay-by overlooking the undulating fields which stretched down towards Westcott and the silver line of the sea beyond.
‘Sorry. Hope you don’t mind,’ I said, turning to Lucy. ‘It’s just so beautiful.’
‘I don’t mind at all,’ she replied, smiling shyly at me. ‘In fact, I was rather hoping you would.’
We sat in companionable silence watching the sun rise over the far, grey-green line of hills. It surfaced as a giant ball of orange, sending out shafts of shimmering light which gradually washed across the fields, painting in the yellow of the corn, the bright red of the poppies.
Without taking my eyes off the scene, I spoke. ‘You know, I’m very pleased you came along tonight.’
‘So am I,’ said Lucy quietly.
Tentatively, I reached across and laid my hand lightly on hers. ‘Then we must do it again.’
‘I’d love to.’
As the sun continued to lift above the horizon, so did my spirits. Here it seemed was the dawn of a promising new day.
CREATURE COMFORTS
When Crystal and Eric returned from their trip to Venice, I was immediately asked about the Richardsons. No surprise there. I’d sensed Crystal had been worried about the foaling and probably wondered whether I’d be up to the job. But then maybe that was just paranoia on my part. What was surprising was the warmth with which she responded to the fact that I’d delivered the foal by epidural.
‘Let’s hope George and Hilary appreciated what you did for them,’ she said, eyeing her husband. ‘Some people have been known to get on the wrong side of them all too easily.’
Eric reddened.
‘I’ll go and see what appointments Beryl’s lined up for me,’ he muttered and shot out of the office.
Crystal shook her head, causing her copper curls to tremble as if each coil was charged with electricity. How I’d love to run my fingers through