Betty Neels - Dearest Love

By the end of the week he had filled out considerably although he was still quite content to curl up and sleep. He went willingly enough into the garden before anyone was about and, although the dark evenings scared him, provided Percy was nearby he ventured on to the grass and even scampered around for a few minutes.

It was carelessness due to her overconfidence that was Arabella’s undoing. On the Friday evening everyone left as usual and, after a quick reconnoitre upstairs to make sure that that really was the case, she went into the garden before she tidied the rooms. It was a fine clear evening and not quite dark and she took her torch and walked down the path while the animals pottered on the grass.

Dr Tavener, returning to fetch a forgotten paper, trod quietly through the empty rooms and, since there was still some light left, didn’t bother to turn on his desk lamp. He knew where the paper was and he had picked it up and turned to go again when he glanced out of his window.

Arabella stood below, her torch shining on the animals.

‘Well, I’m damned,’ said Dr Tavener softly and watched her shepherd them indoors before going silently and very quickly back to the front door and then letting himself out into the street. He got into his car and drove himself home, laughing softly.

As for Arabella, blissfully unaware that she had been discovered, she gave her companions their suppers and went upstairs to clean and tidy up, then cooked her own meal before getting on with another cushion cover.

Saturday morning was busy. Dr Tavener, Miss Baird told her, had only two patients but he was going to the hospital and would probably not be back until after midday. ‘So I’m afraid you won’t be able to do your cleaning until he’s gone again.’

Arabella, who turned the place upside-down on a Saturday, changed the flowers and polished everything possible, said she didn’t mind. Secretly she was annoyed. She would have to do her weekly shopping and she didn’t like to go out and leave him in his rooms—supposing the puppy were to bark? The shops closed at five o’clock—surely he wouldn’t stay as late as that?

It was a relief when he came back just before everyone else went home, shut himself in his room for a while and then prepared to leave. Arabella was polishing the chairs in the waiting-room since Hoovering might disturb him and she heard him coming along the passage.

She had expected him to go straight to the door and let himself out but instead he stopped in the doorway, so she turned round to wish him good afternoon and found him staring at her. Her heart sank; he looked severe—surely he hadn’t discovered about the puppy?

It seemed that he had. ‘Since when have we had a dog in the house, Miss Lorimer?’ His voice was silky and she didn’t much care for it.

She put down her duster and faced him. ‘He isn’t a dog—he’s a very small puppy.’

‘Indeed? And have you Dr Marshall’s permission to keep him here?’

‘No. How did you know?’

‘I saw him—and you—the other evening in the garden. I trust that he isn’t rooting up the flowerbeds.’

She was suddenly fierce. ‘If you’d been thrown in a gutter with your legs tied together and left to die you’d know what heaven it is to sniff the flowers.’

His mouth twitched. ‘And you found him and of course brought him back with you?’

‘Well, of course—and I cannot believe that, however ill-natured you are, you would have left him lying there.’

‘You are quite right; I wouldn’t. Perhaps if you could bear with my ill nature, I might take a look at him? He’s probably in rather poor shape.’

‘Oh, would you?’ She paused on her way to the door. ‘But you won’t take him away and send him to a dogs’ home? He’s so very small.’

‘No, I won’t do that.’

She went ahead of him down the stairs and opened the basement door. Percy, asleep on the end of the bed, opened an eye and dozed off again but the puppy tumbled on to the floor and trotted towards them, waving his ridiculous tail.

Dr Tavener bent and scooped him up and tucked him under an arm.

‘Very small,’ he observed, ‘and badly used too.’ He was gently examining the little beast. ‘One or two nasty sores on his flank…’ He felt the small legs. ‘How long have you had him?’

‘Since last Saturday. I thought he was going to die.’

‘You have undoubtedly saved his life. He needs a vet, though.’ He looked at Arabella and smiled—a quite different man from the austere doctor who strode in and out of his consulting-room with barely a glance if they should meet—and she blinked with surprise. ‘If I return at about four o’clock would you bring him to a vet with me? He is a friend of mine and will know if there is anything the little chap needs.’

Arabella goggled at him. ‘Me? Go to the vet with you?’

‘I don’t bite,’ said Dr Tavener mildly.

She went pink. ‘I beg your pardon. I was only surprised. It’s very kind of you. Only, please don’t come before four o’clock because I’ve the week’s shopping to do. It won’t take long, will it? Percy likes his supper…’

‘I don’t imagine it will take too much time but you could leave—er—Percy’s supper for him, couldn’t you?’

‘Well, yes.’ She took the puppy from him. ‘You’re very kind.’

‘In between bouts of ill nature,’ he reminded her gently. Then watched the pretty colour in her cheeks. He went to the door. ‘I will be back at four o’clock.’

Arabella crammed a lot into the next few hours. There was still the rubbish to take out to the dustbins outside and the brass on the front door to polish; she would see to those later, she told herself, changing into her decent suit and good shoes and doing her face and her hair. It was important to look as little like a caretaker as possible—she wouldn’t want Dr Tavener to be ashamed of her. She took all the money she had with her, remembering the vet’s bills for the dogs when her parents had been alive and, the picture of unassuming neatness, she went to the front door punctually at four o’clock.

He came in as she put her hand on the doorknob. He didn’t waste time in civilities. ‘Well? Where is the little beast?’

‘In the basement. He’s not allowed up here. I’ll fetch him and bring him out to the car from my front door.’

‘Do that. I’ll be with you in a moment.’ He went along to his rooms and she heard him phone as she went downstairs.

He was waiting by the car as she went through the door and up the steps with the puppy tucked under an arm and ushered her into the front seat, got in beside her and drove off.

The puppy was frightened and Arabella, concerned with keeping him quiet, hardly noticed where they were going. She looked up once and said, ‘Oh, isn’t that the Zoo?’ and Dr Tavener grunted what she supposed to be yes. When he stopped finally and helped her out she looked around her with interest. She didn’t know London very well—in happier days she and her mother had come up to shop or go to a theatre, and birthdays had been celebrated by her father taking them out to dine.

‘Where is this?’ she asked now.

‘Little Venice. The vet lives in this house. His surgery is in the Marylebone Road but he agreed to see the puppy here.’

‘That’s very kind of him.’ She went with him up the steps of the solid town house and, when the door was opened by a sober-looking woman in an apron, followed the doctor inside.

‘He’s expecting us, Mrs Wise,’ said Dr Tavener easily. ‘Are we to go up?’

‘Yes, sir, you’re expected.’

They were met at the head of the stairs by a man of the doctor’s age, tall and thin, already almost bald. ‘Come on in,’ he greeted them. ‘Where’s this puppy, Titus?’