All Things Bright and Beautiful Read online

I went over the sleeping animal carefully; there wasn’t a thing amiss except that pathetically drooping jaw. Meditatively I stroked the smooth, shining fur. She was only a young cat with years of life in front of her and as I stood there the decision came to me with a surge of relief and I trotted back along the passage to ask the colonel if I could take Maudie through to Granville Bennett.

  It had started to snow heavily when I set out and I was glad it was downhill all the way to Hartington; many of the roads higher up the Dale would soon be impassable on a night like this.

  In the Veterinary Hospital I watched the big man drilling, screwing, stitching. It wasn’t the sort of job which could be hurried but it was remarkable how quickly those stubby fingers could work. Even so, we had been in the theatre for nearly an hour and Granville’s complete absorption showed in the long silences broken only by the tinkling of instruments, occasional barking commands and now and then a sudden flare of exasperation. And it wasn’t only the nurses who suffered; I had scrubbed up and had been pressed into service and when I failed to hold the jaw exactly as my colleague desired he exploded in my face.

  “Not that bloody way, Jim!…What the hell are you playing at?…No, no, no, no, NO!…Oh God Almighty!”

  But at last all was finished and Granville threw off his cap and turned away from the table with that air of finality which made me envy him the first time. He was sweating. In his office he washed his hands, towelled his brow and pulled on an elegant grey jacket from the pocket of which he produced a pipe. It was a different pipe from the last time; I learned in time that all Granville’s pipes were not only beautiful but big and this one had a bowl like a fair sized coffee cup. He rubbed it gently along the side of his nose, gave it a polish with the yellow cloth he always seemed to carry and held it lovingly against the light.

  “Straight grain, Jim. Superb, isn’t it?”

  He contentedly scooped tobacco from his vast pouch, ignited it and puffed a cloud of delectable smoke at me before taking me by the arm. “Come on, laddie. I’ll show you round while they’re clearing up in there.”

  We did a tour of the hospital, taking in the waiting and consulting rooms, X-ray room, dispensary and of course the office with its impressive card index system with case histories of all patients, but the bit I enjoyed most was walking along the row of heated cubicles where an assortment of animals were recovering from their operations.

  Granville stabbed his pipe at them as we went along. “Spay, enterotomy, aural haematoma, entropion.” Then he bent suddenly, put a finger through the wire front and adopted a wheedling tone. “Come now, George, come on little fellow, don’t be frightened, it’s only Uncle Granville.”

  A small West Highland with a leg in a cast hobbled to the front and my colleague tickled his nose through the wire.

  “That’s George Wills-Fentham,” he said in explanation. “Old Lady Wills-Fentham’s pride and joy. Nasty compound fracture but he’s doing very nicely. He’s a bit shy is George but a nice little chap when you get to know him, aren’t you, old lad?” He continued his tickling and in the dim light I could see the short white tail wagging furiously.

  Maudie was lying in the very last of the recovery pens, a tiny, trembling figure. That trembling meant she was coming out of the anaesthetic and I opened the door and stretched my hand out to her. She still couldn’t raise her head but she was looking at me and as I gently stroked her side, her mouth opened in a faint rusty miauw. And with a thrill of deep pleasure I saw that her lower jaw belonged to her again; she could open and close it; that hideous dangling tatter of flesh and bone was only a bad memory.

  “Marvellous, Granville,” I murmured. “Absolutely bloody marvellous.”

  Smoke plumed in quiet triumph from the noble pipe. “Yes, it’s not bad, is it laddie. A week or two on fluids and she’ll be as good as new. No problems there.”

  I stood up. “Great! I can’t wait to tell Colonel Bosworth. Can I take her home tonight?”

  “No, Jim, no. Not this time. I just want to keep an eye on her for a couple of days then maybe the colonel can collect her himself.” He led me back into the brightly lit office where he eyed me for a moment.

  “You must come and have a word with Zoe while you’re here,” he said. “But first, just a suggestion. I wonder if you’d care to slip over with me to…”

  I took a rapid step backward. “Well…er…really. I don’t think so.” I gabbled. “I enjoyed my visit to the club that other night but…er…perhaps not this evening.”

  “Hold on, laddie, hold on,” Granville said soothingly. “Who said anything about the club? No, I just wondered if you’d like to come to a meeting with me?”

  “Meeting?”

  “Yes, Professor Milligan’s come through from Edinburgh to speak to the Northern Veterinary Society about metabolic diseases. I think you’d enjoy it.”

  “You mean milk fever, acetonaemia and all that?”

  “Correct. Right up your street, old son.”

  “Well it is, isn’t it? I wonder…” I stood for a few moments deep in thought, and one of the thoughts was why an exclusively small animal man like Granville wanted to hear about cow complaints. But I was maybe doing him an injustice; he probably wanted to maintain a broad, liberal view of veterinary knowledge.

  It must have been obvious that I was dithering because he prodded me a little further.

  “I’d like to have your company, Jim, and anyway I see you’re all dressed and ready for anything. Matter of fact when you walked in tonight I couldn’t help thinking what a smart lad you looked.”

  He was right there. I hadn’t dashed through in my farm clothes this time. With the memory of my last visit still painfully fresh in my mind I was determined that if I was going to meet the charming Zoe again I was going to be: (a) Properly dressed, (b) Sober, (c) in a normal state of health and not bloated and belching like an impacted bullock. Helen, agreeing that my image needed refurbishing, had rigged me out in my best suit.

  Granville ran his hand along my lapel. “Fine piece of serge if I may say so.”

  I made up my mind. “Right, I’d like to come with you. Just let me ring Helen to say I won’t be straight back and then I’m your man.”

  24

  OUTSIDE IT WAS STILL SNOWING; city snow drifting down in a wet curtain which soon lost itself in the dirty churned-up slush in the streets. I pulled my coat higher round my neck and huddled deeper in the Bentley’s leather luxury. As we swept past dark buildings and shops I kept expecting Granville to turn up some side street and stop, but within a few minutes we were speeding through the suburbs up towards the North Road. This meeting, I thought, must be out in one of the country institutes, and I didn’t say anything until we had reached Scotch Corner and the big car had turned on to the old Roman Road to Bowes.

  I stretched and yawned. “By the way, Granville, where are they holding this meeting?”

  “Appleby,” my colleague replied calmly.

  I came bolt upright in my seat then I began to laugh.

  “What’s the joke, old son?” Granville enquired.

  “Well…Appleby…ha-ha-ha! Come on, where are we really heading?”

  “I’ve told you, laddie, the Pemberton Arms, Appleby, to be exact.”

  “Do you mean it?”

  “Of course.”

  “But hell, Granville, that’s on the other side of the Pennines.”

  “Quite right. Always has been, laddie.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “Wait a minute. Surely it isn’t worth going about forty miles in weather like this. We’ll never get over Bowes Moor you know—in fact I heard yesterday it was blocked. Anyway, it’s nearly eight o’clock—we’d be too late.”

  The big man reached across and patted my knee.

  “Stop worrying, Jim. We’ll get there and we’ll be in plenty of time. You’ve got to remember you’re sitting in a proper motor car now. A drop of snow is nothing.”

  As if determined to prove his words he put his foot down