Vets Might Fly Read online

kicking at some inward pain, writhing its hindquarters from side to

  side. As he watched it fell on its side and began to thrash around

  with all four limbs.

  "James," he said quietly.

  "That calf has been poisoned."

  "That's what I thought, but how?"

  Mr Billings broke in.

  "It's no good talkie' like that, Mr Far non. We've been over this

  place time and time again and there's nowt for them to get."

  "Well, we'll go over it again." Siegfried stalked around the calf

  house as I had done and when he returned his face was expressionless.

  "Where do you get the nuts from?" he grunted, crumbling one of the

  cubes between his fingers.

  Mr Billings threw his arms wide.

  "From t'local mill. Ryders' best. You can't fault them, surely."

  Siegfried said nothing. Ryders were noted for their meticulous

  preparation Of cattle food. He went over the sick calf with

  stethoscope and thermometer, digging his fingers into the hairy

  abdominal wall, staring impassively at the calf's face to note its

  reaction. He did the same with my patient of yesterday whose glazing

  eyes and cold extremities told their grim tale. Then he gave the

  calves almost the same treatment as I had and we left.

  He was silent for the first half mile, then he beat the wheel suddenly

  with one hand

  "There's an irritant poison there, James! As sure as God made little

  apples there is But I'm damned if I know where it's coming from."

  Our visit had taken a long time and we returned to Skeldale House for

  lunch.

  Like myself, his mind was still wrestling with Mr Billings's problem

  and he hardly winced as Tristan placed a steaming plateful of sausage

  and mash before him Then, as he prodded the mash with a fork, he

  appeared to come to the surface.

  "God almighty!" he exclaimed.

  "Have we got this again?"

  Tristan smiled ingratiatingly.

  "Yes, indeed. Mr Johnson told me they were a particularly fine batch

  of sausages today. Definitely superior, he said."

  "Is that so?" His brother gave him a sour glance.

  "Well, they look the bloody same to me. Like supper yesterday and like

  lunch." His voice began to rise then he subsided.

  "Oh, what the hell," he muttered, and began to toy listlessly with the

  food.

  Clearly those calves had drained him and I knew how he felt.

  I got through my share without much difficulty I've always liked

  sausage and mash But my boss is a resilient character and when we met

  in the late afternoon he was bursting with his old spirit.

  "That call to Billings's shook me, James, I can tell you." he said.

  "But I've revisited a few of my other cases since then and they're all

  improving nicely.

  Raises the morale tremendously. Here, let me get you a drink."

  He reached into the cupboard above the mantelpiece for the gin bottle

  and after pouring a couple of measures he looked benignly at his

  brother who was tidying the sitting room.

  Tristan was making a big show, running a carpet-sweeper up and down,

  straightening cushions, flicking a duster at everything in sight. He

  sighed and panted with effort as he bustled around, the very picture of

  a harassed domestic.

  He needed only a mob cap and frilly apron to complete the image.

  We finished our drinks and Siegfried immersed himself in the Veterinary

  Record as savoury smells began to issue from the kitchen. It was about

  seven o'clock when Tristan put his head round the door.

  "Supper is on the table," he said.

  my boss put down the Record, rose and stretched expansively.

  "Good, I'm ready for it, too."

  I followed him into the dining room and almost cannoned into his back

  as he halted abruptly. He was staring in disbelief at the tureen in

  the middle of the table.

  "Not bloody sausage and mash again!" he bellowed.

  Tristan shuffled his feet.

  "Weller yes it's very nice really."

  very nice! I'm beginning to dream about the blasted stuff. Can't you

  cook any thing else?"

  "Well, I told you." Tristan looked wounded.

  "I told you I could cook sausage and mash ' "Yes, you did!" shouted

  his brother.

  "But you didn't say you couldn't cook any thing else BUT sausage and

  bloody mash!"

  Tristan made a non-committal gesture and his brother sank wearily down

  at the table.

  "Go on, then," he sighed.

  "Dish it out and heaven help us."

  He took a small mouthful from his plate then gripped at his stomach and

  emitted a low moan.

  "This stuff is kill ing me. I don't think I'll ever be the same after

  this week."

  The following day opened in dramatic fashion. I had just got out of

  bed and was reaching for my dressing gown when an explosion shook the

  house It was a great

  "WHUFF' which rushed like a mighty wind through passages and rooms

  rattling the windows and leaving an ominous silence in its wake.

  I dashed out to the landing and ran into Siegfried, who stared

  wide-eyed at me for a moment before galloping downstairs.

  In the kitchen Tristan was Lying on his back amid a litter of pans and

  dishes.

  Several rashers of bacon and a few smashed eggs nestled on the Rags.

  "What the hell's going on? "Siegfried shouted.

  His brother looked up at him with mild interest.

  "I really don't know. I was lighting the fire and there was a bang."

  "Lighting the fire. . .?"

  "Yes, I've had a little difficulty these last two mornings. The thing

  wouldn't go. I think the chimney needs sweeping These old houses . .

  ."

  "Yes, yes!" Siegfried burst out.

  "We know, but what the hell happened?"

  Tristan sat up. Even then, among the debris with smuts all over his

  face, he still retained his poise.

  "Well, I thought I'd hurry things along a bit," (His agile mind was

  forever seeking new methods of conserving energy.) "I soaked a piece of

  cotton wool in ether and chucked that in."

  "Ether?"

  "Well yes, it's inflammable, isn't it?"

  "Inflammable!" His brother was pop-eyed.

  "It's bloody well explosive! It's a wonder you didn't blow the whole

  place up."

  Tristan rose and dusted himself off.

  "Ah well, never mind. I'll soon have breakfast ready."

  "You can forget that." Siegfried took a long shuddering breath then

  went over to the bread tin, extracted a loaf and began to saw at it.

  "The breakfasts on the floor, and anyway, by the time you've cleared up

  this mess we'll be gone. Bread and marmalade all right for you,

  James?"

  We went out together again. My boss had arranged that Ken Billings

  should postpone his calf feeding till we got there so that we could

  witness the process.

  It wasn't a happy arrival. Both the calves had died and the farmer's

  eyes held a look of desperation.

  Siegfried's jaw clenched tight for a moment then he motioned with his

  hand.

  "Please carry on, Mr Billings. I want to see you feed them."

  The nuts were always available for th