All Things Bright and Beautiful Read online

  “Aye right,” he grunted. “Let’s get on with t’next job.”

  As we went down the byre I looked out and saw a horse being led across the yard. Siegfried pointed to it.

  “Is that the gelding I operated on for fistulous withers?” he asked.

  “That’s the one.” The farmer’s voice was airy.

  We went out and Siegfried ran his hand over the horse’s shoulders. The broad fibrous scar over the withers was all that was left of the discharging, stinking sinus of a few weeks back. Healing was perfect. These cases were desperately difficult to treat and I remembered my partner cutting and chiselling at the mass of necrotic tissue, curetting deeply till only healthy flesh and bone remained. His efforts had been rewarded; it was a brilliant success.

  Siegfried gave the gelding a final pat on the neck. “That’s done rather well.”

  Mr. Kendall shrugged and turned back towards the byre. “Aye, not so bad, I suppose.” But he really wasn’t impressed.

  The cow with the tumour was standing just inside the door. The growth was in the perineal region, a smooth round object like an apple projecting from the animal’s rear end, clearly visible an inch to the right of the tail.

  Mr. Kendall was in full cry again. “Now we’ll see what you’re made of. How are you chaps going to get that thing off, eh? It’s a big ’un—you’ll need a carving knife or a hack saw for t’job. And are you goin’ to put her to sleep or tie her up or what?” He grinned and his bright little eyes darted at each of us in turn.

  Siegfried reached out and grasped the tumour, feeling round the base with his fingers. “Hmm…yes…hmm…bring me some soap and water and a towel, will you please?”

  “I have it just outside t’door.” The farmer scuttled into the yard and back again with the bucket

  “Thank you very much,” Siegfried said. He washed his hands and gave them a leisurely towelling. “Now I believe you have another case to see. A scouring calf, wasn’t it?”

  The farmer’s eyes widened. “Yes, I ’ave. But how about getting this big lump off the cow first?”

  Siegfried folded the towel and hung it over the half door. “Oh, I’ve removed the tumour,” he said quietly.

  “What’s that?” Mr. Kendall stared at the cow’s backside. We all stared at it. And there was no doubt about it—the growth was gone. And there was another funny thing—there wasn’t even a scar or mark remaining. I was standing quite close to the animal and I could see exactly to a fraction of an inch where that big ugly projection had been; and there was nothing, not a drop of blood, nothing.

  “Aye,” Mr. Kendall said irresolutely. “You’ve er…you’ve removed…you’ve removed it, aye, that’s right.” The smile had vanished from his face and his entire personality seemed suddenly deflated. Being a man who knew everything and was surprised by nothing he was unable to say, “When the devil did you do it? And how? And what on earth have you done with it?” He had to maintain face at all costs, but he was rattled. He darted little glances around the byre, along the channel. The cow was standing in a clean-swept stall with no straw and there was nothing lying on the floor there or anywhere. Casually, as though by accident he pushed a milking stool to one side with his foot—still nothing.

  “Well now, perhaps we can see the calf.” Siegfried began to move away.

  Mr. Kendall nodded. “Yes…yes…the calf. He’s in t’corner there. I’ll just lift bucket first.”

  It was a blatant excuse. He went over to the bucket and as he passed behind the cow he whipped out his spectacles, jammed them on his nose and directed a piercing glare at the cow’s bottom. He only took an instant because he didn’t want to show undue concern, but when he turned back towards us his face registered utter despair and he put his spectacles away with a weary gesture of defeat.

  As he approached I turned and brushed against my partner.

  “Where the hell is it?” I hissed.

  “Up my sleeve,” murmured Siegfried without moving his lips or changing expression.

  “What…?” I began, but Siegfried was climbing over a gate into the makeshift pen where the calf was cornered.

  He was in an expansive mood as he examined the little creature and injected it. He kept up a steady flow of light conversation and Mr. Kendall, showing great character, managed to get his smile back on and answer back. But his preoccupied manner, the tortured eyes and the repeated incredulous glances back along the byre floor in the direction of the cow betrayed the fact that he was under immense strain.

  Siegfried didn’t hurry over the calf and when he had finished he lingered a while in the yard, chatting about the weather, the way the grass was springing, the price of fat bullocks.

  Mr. Kendall hung on grimly but by the time Siegfried finally waved farewell the farmer’s eyes were popping and his face was an anguished mask. He bolted back into the byre and as the car backed round I could see him bent double with his glasses on again, peering into the corners.

  “Poor fellow,” I said. “He’s still looking for that thing. And for God’s sake where is it, anyway?”

  “I told you, didn’t I?” Siegfried removed one arm from the wheel and shook it. A round fleshy ball rolled down into his hand.

  I stared at it in amazement. “But…I never saw you take it off…what happened?”

  “I’ll tell you.” My partner smiled indulgently. “I was fingering it over to see how deeply it was attached when I felt it begin to move. The back of it was merely encapsulated by the skin and when I gave another squeeze it just popped out and shot up my sleeve. And after it had gone the lips of the skin sprang back together again so that you couldn’t see where it had been. Extraordinary thing.”

  Tristan reached over from the back seat. “Give it to me,” he said. “I’ll take it back to college with me and get it sectioned. We’ll find out what kind of tumour it is.”

  His brother smiled. “Yes, I expect they’ll give it some fancy name, but I’ll always remember it as the only thing that shook Mr. Kendall.”

  “That was an interesting session in there,” I said. “And I must say I admired the way you dealt with that eye, Siegfried. Very smooth indeed.”

  “You’re very kind, James,” my partner murmured. “That was just one of my little tricks—and of course the forceps helped a lot.”

  I nodded. “Yes, wonderful little things. I’ve never seen anything like them. Where did you get them?”

  “Picked them up on an instrument stall at the last Veterinary Congress. They cost me a packet but they’ve been worth it. Here, let me show them to you.” He put his hand in his breast pocket then his side pockets, and as he continued to rummage all over his person a look of sick dismay spread slowly across his face.

  Finally he abandoned the search, cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on the road ahead.

  “I’ll er…I’ll show you them some other time, James,” he said huskily.

  I didn’t say anything but I knew and Siegfried knew and Tristan knew.

  He’d left them on the farm.

  7

  ONE OF THE NICEST things about my married life was that my new wife got on so well with the Farnon brothers. And this was fitting because both of them had done their utmost to further my suit, Siegfried by means of some well-timed kicks in the pants, Tristan by more subtle motivation. The young man had been reassuring when I consulted him in the dispensary about my wooing that early summer morning.

  “Well, it’s a good sign.” Tristan reluctantly expelled a lungful of Woodbine smoke and looked at me with wide, encouraging eyes.

  “You think so?” I said doubtfully.

  Tristan nodded “Sure of it. Helen just rang you up, did she?”

  “Yes, out of the blue. I haven’t seen her since I took her to the pictures that night and it’s been hectic ever since with the lambing—and suddenly there she was asking me to tea on Sunday.”

  “I like the sound of it,” Tristan said. “But of course you don’t want to get the idea you’re home and d