Every Living Thing Read online

  “Aye, there must be two hundred of us ’ere. You gave us such a grand talk last year I knew there’d be a lot wantin’ to hear you again and they’re all waitin’ patiently. We can’t start without t’speaker, tha knows! Heh-heh-heh!”

  Siegfried’s expression was haggard. He seemed to have aged several years in those few moments. “I really am frightfully sorry, Wilf, I…”

  “Nay, nay, Mr. Farnon, there’s no need for you to apologise. A busy feller like you. You’ll never know what’s goin’ to happen from one minute to the next. Rushed off your feet all the time. You can’t help bein’ a bit late now and again.” Wilf’s voice swelled even more in volume. “After all, we know you’re not just sitting watchin’ television! Heh, heh, heh, heh!”

  Siegfried’s eyes bulged. “Yes, Wilf, yes, that’s right …of course. Ha-ha-ha. What an idea. Ha-ha-ha.” The strangled laughter emerged with difficulty from the distraught face. “I’m nearly ready—I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

  My partner crashed the receiver down and catapulted from his chair. “Got to go, James. See you in the morning.”

  As he galloped towards the door an unworthy impulse welled in me.

  “Siegfried!” I called.

  He stopped at the door and glared at me, wild-eyed.

  I wagged a finger at him, feeling my features creasing into a leer. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

  Chapter 33

  SIEGFRIED CAUGHT MY ARM as I passed him coming out of the dispensary. He looked harassed.

  “James,” he burst out. “Calum wants another dog now! Has he mentioned it to you?”

  “He did say something. Said he was going to speak to you about it. Apparently it’s a dog he’s had for some time. It’s with his mother and he just wants to bring it to Darrowby. It’s okay for him to do that, isn’t it?”

  My colleague stuck out his chin. “I don’t think it is. He started with a badger and a dog, now he’s got two badgers and a dog, and on top of that he wants two badgers and two dogs up in that little flat. Anyway, I’ve told him it’s not on.”

  “Oh, I think you’re being a bit hard, Siegfried. He’s probably lonely, living on his own. He just wants his animals for company.”

  Siegfried took a sharp breath. “That’s what he says, of course, but to me, it’s only the thin edge of the wedge. I feel it in my bones—if we give in now he’s going to have a bloody menagerie up there!”

  “Oh, come on,” I said, laughing. “You’re exaggerating. There’s absolutely no fear of that. He’s a good lad, as you know, and an asset to the practice. I think we should help him to feel settled and happy and it’s only natural that he should want to be reunited with his dog.”

  My partner did some more rapid breathing as he stared at me. “I thought you’d say that. You’re too easily swayed. But I know I’m right—I’m not going to have it, and that’s final.” He stuffed a couple of bottles of calcium into his pockets and strode away.

  Over the next few days, Calum made several appeals to me and his request seemed perfectly reasonable, but Siegfried had dug his toes in. He refused to be moved.

  When I raised the question yet again over a beer at the Drovers’ he flushed, but he heard me out.

  “I wish you’d change your mind,” I said. “I can’t see what possible harm there is in his having his dog. And as I said, he’s doing well and I think he should be encouraged. I’m sure you’ve just got a thing about him—your worries are absolutely groundless.”

  “Groundless, eh?” He choked a little in mid-swallow, then put down his glass. “I don’t think so. I’ve got this feeling and it won’t go away.” He paused and looked round the bar for a few moments. “But you’re beginning to wear me down and I’m tired tonight. I see you’re going to go on and on about this, so you can tell him to go ahead and do as he likes.”

  I clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “Oh, thanks, Siegfried. I know it’s the right thing. You’ll never regret it.”

  He gave me a weary smile. “You may laugh, but I tell you, we’ll be making a big mistake.” He waved a finger in my face. “I’ll regret it, all right. Mark my words!”

  Next morning, Calum was delighted when I gave him the news and I felt a glow of satisfaction when, a few days later, I heard the sound of fresh barking from the flat.

  Siegfried was opening some letters in the office and I turned to him with a smile. “Nice to hear that,” I said. “Calum will be happy now.”

  He gave me a cold look in return and just then our assistant walked into the office. By his side were two enormous Dobermann pinschers.

  “What the hell’s this?” Siegfried enquired, rising to his feet.

  “Oh, just my other dogs,” Calum replied with a light laugh. “Meet Maggie and Anna.”

  “Dogs!” Siegfried exploded. “You said dog before!”

  “Oh, I know. That was my intention. I was just going to bring Maggie, but poor Anna looked so pathetic, I hadn’t the heart to leave her. They’re such friends, and really, they’re as gentle as old sheep.”

  “They don’t look so bloody gentle to me!” My partner’s voice rose to a shout. “You get round me to bring an extra dog here, then you walk in with these two killers!”

  There was something in what he said. An air of quiet menace emanated from the Dobermanns, something unnerving in the way they stood motionless, tall and lean, looking thoughtfully from one strange man to the other. They gave me the impression that they could go into unpleasant action at any moment.

  “This just isn’t good enough!” Siegfried was working up into full cry, waving a hand in Calum’s face, when the dogs, resenting the display of aggression, began to growl, softly but chillingly, their eyes fixed on my partner’s face, their lips quivering, showing a lot of white teeth.

  “Quiet!” rapped Calum. “Sit!” Both dogs dropped immediately onto their haunches and looked up at him adoringly. Clearly, they, like all animals, were in his thrall.

  “Well, there’s a cow down at Jack Skinner’s.” The young man consulted his list. “I’d better get on.” He turned and left with the two big creatures trotting at his heels.

  Siegfried looked at me wearily. “Remember what I said? It’s started.”

  The following week I was coming down the garden path from the yard to the back of the house when I heard the sounds—a loud barking and snarling accompanied by a man’s voice crying for help. There was a smaller yard immediately outside the operating room and they seemed to be coming from there. We didn’t use this little yard very much—it held the dustbins, an outhouse and an ancient outside toilet that had been there since the early days of the house.

  There was a side door that led to the garden and I peered through. It was Siegfried’s voice raised in frantic appeal, coming from the old toilet whose door hung crazily on one hinge. To my horror I saw the two Dobermanns hurling themselves repeatedly at this flimsy bastion and baying for blood. My blood froze. My partner was in there and if that old door gave way something terrible was going to happen. There was nothing I could do. I am not afraid of dogs but I had a sure conviction that if I exposed myself to those two I wouldn’t last very long.

  I rushed to the bottom of the garden and into the house. “Calum! Calum!” I yelled.

  He came running down the stairs and when he heard the uproar he galloped through with me to the back of the house. “Maggie! Anna! You bad dogs! Come here at once!”

  The noise was switched off immediately and the Dobermanns came slinking round Calum’s feet, looking up at him furtively, their faces fixed in ingratiating grins. “Get upstairs!” he shouted, and the dogs shot off into the house.

  Wisely, Calum decided to follow them, leaving Siegfried to me. I dragged the broken door open to release one very cross veterinary surgeon. “By God, James,” he said, wild-eyed, “that was a near go! I was picking plums last night and I ate a few too many. Got caught short and had to make a dash for the nearest loo. I was just lowering myself onto the seat when those t