It Shouldn't Happen to a Vet Read online

sorry."

  He nodded grimly and continued to regard me with a peculiar intensity as

  though he expected me to say more. Then with apparent reluctance he

  turned away and settled in his seat.

  I looked helplessly at the rigid back, at the square, narrow shoulders

  muffled in a heavy overcoat. Who in God's name was this? And what was he

  talking about? I knew the face from somewhere - must be a client. And

  what was dead? Cow? Ewe? Sow? My mind began to race over the cases I had

  seen during the past week but that face didn't seem to fit in anywhere.

  Helen was looking at me questioningly and I managed a wan smile. But the

  spell was shattered. I started to say something to her when the little

  man began to turn again with menacing deliberation.

  He fixed me once more with a hostile glare. "Ah don't think there was

  ever owl wrong with her stomach," he declared.

  "You don't, eh."

  "No, young man, ah don't." He dragged his eyes unwillingly from my face

  and turned towards the screen again.

  The effect of this second attack was heightened because the lights went

  off suddenly and an incredible explosion of noise blasted my ear drums.

  It was the Gaumont News. The sound machine, like the heating system, had

  apparently been designed for something like the Albert Hall and for a

  moment I cowered back under the assault. As a voice bellowed details of

  fortnight-old events I closed my eyes and tried again to place the man

  in front of me.

  I often had trouble identifying people outside their usual environment

  and had once discussed the problem with Siegfried.

  He had been airy. "There's an easy way, James. Just ask them how they

  spell their names. You'll have no trouble at all.

  I had tried this on one occasion and the farmer had looked at me

  strangely replied "S-M-I-T-H' and hurried away. So there seemed nothing

  to do now but sit sweating with my eyes on the disapproving back and

  search through my memory. When the news finished with a raucous burst of

  music I had got back about three weeks without result There was a

  blessed respite of a few seconds before the uproar broke out again. This

  was the main feature - the film about Scotland was on later - and was

  described outside as a tender love story. I can't remember the title but

  there was a lot of embracing which would have been all right except that

  every kiss i ::

  _ .

  was accompanied by a chorus of long-drawn sucking noises from the little

  boys downstairs. The less romantic blew raspberries.

  And all the time it got hotter. I opened my jacket wide and unbuttoned

  my shirt collar but I was beginning to feel decidedly light-headed. The

  little man in front, still huddled in his heavy coat, seemed

  unperturbed. Twice the projector broke down and we stared for several

  minutes at a blank screen while a storm of whistling and stamping came

  up from the stalls.

  Maggie Robinson, standing in the dim light by the curtain, still

  appeared to be fascinated by the sight of Helen and me. Whenever I

  looked up I found her eyes fixed upon us with a knowing leer. About

  half-way through the film, however, her concentration was disturbed by a

  commotion on the other side of the curtain and she was suddenly brushed

  aside as a large form burst through.

  With a feeling of disbelief I recognised Gobber Newhouse. I had had

  previous experience of his disregard of the licensing laws and it was

  clear he had been at it again. He spent most afternoons in the back

  rooms of the local pubs and here he was, come to relax after a rough

  session.

  He reeled up the aisle, turned, to my dismay, into our row, rested

  briefly on Helen's lap, trod on my toe and finally spread his enormous

  carcass over the seat on my left. Fortunately it was another courting

  seat with no central arm to get in his way but for all that he had great

  difficulty in finding a comfortable position. He heaved and squirmed

  about and the wheezing and snuffing and grunting in the darkness might

  have come from a pen of bacon he found a spot and with a final cavernous

  belch rr~

  The tender love story never A;~ its death kr.-ll ~ ~ ~

  pigs. But at last elf for slumber.

  obber sounded 'se pall of stale ate nuances.

  ghts went up. -e on that her w her brows ~ie appeared Bering while = C ~

  C ; C ~C 0 ~ ~ D ~ due t~ ~ c ~t ~ 3 ~ c ~,~ c O ~D ~ 5 " -oat in front

  with the gl 3~ 0 0 3 c 0 ~g from the key in the IOCH ~ C~ ~ ~ '5 ~ c c

  u, :~ 3 ~ ~ and a single neor: ~ ~ c ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ D X this a few times

  an~ c c CC ~-5 :g c~ ~ c~ c into submission with a~ ~ - s ~ O ~ C~ CJO 5

  C mackintosh revealing faul` O co `- ~ a ~ ~ ~ ~

  4, c ~ 3 ~ o~ ~i ' - . 2 ~u ~ I O ~3

  While this was going on av'~herself into the pay box. The sic " We all

  began to shuffle inside. '1$ punched each other as they passed th~ ~ ~

  v: rest of us proceeded decorously upstairs~ ~ c~ ~ halconv The mana~er.

  his white shirt fror,= ~-".~

  J ; 1 1

  ;

  r track."

  I like that It he was ast wi' a _ _ , (, , _ ~ _ ~ . _ , and bowed with

  great courtesy as we passed. ~. ~ ~ `, -~0 ~ ~ O3

  We paused at a row of pegs at the top of the s~. ~ c ~ _ ~ ~c ~ up their

  coats. I was surprised to see Maggie Robinsof;` c ,.. {i w ~ c there,

  taking the tickets, and she appeared to be intriguec ~ w c ~ 3 simpered

  and giggled, darted glances at Helen and did e~ =- c ~ ~ in the ribs.

  Finally she parted the curtains and we went insi~ ~ ~ ~

  It struck me immediately that the management were determ' ~ D patrons

  wouldn't feel cold because if it hadn't been for the all-perv. =of old

  sofas we might have been plunging into a tropical jungle. hiaggr~

  It - just d been again. g was ~n the "It's supposed to be." Helen paused

  and looked at me with a half-smile. "But I'm afraid it isn't going to

  be. The thing is they often change the supporting film without warning.

  Nobody seems to mind."

  I slumped wearily in my seat. Well I'd done it again. No dance at the

  Reniston, wrong picture tonight. I was a genius in my own way.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I hope you don't mind too much."

  She shook her head. "Not a bit. Anyway, let's give this one a chance. It

  may be all right."

  But as the ancient horse opera crackled out its cliche-ridden message I

  gave up hope. This was going to be another of those evenings. I watched

  apathetically as the posse galloped for the fourth time past the same

  piece of rock and I was totally unprepared for the deafening fusillade

  of shots which rang out. It made me jump and it even roused Gobber from

  his sleep.

  "Ellow! 'ellow! 'ellow!" he bawled jerking upright and thrashing around

  him with his arms. A backhander on the side of the head drove me

  violently against Helen's shoulder and I was beginning to apologise when

  I saw that her twitching and frowning had come on again. But this time

  it spread and her whole face seemed to break up. She began to laugh,

  silently and helplessly.

  I had never seen a girl laugh like this. It was as though it was