Coming Home to Wishington Bay. Maxine Morrey
quickly rose and hurried out, returning a moment later with a soft bed in one hand and an oversized stuffed toy prawn sporting a slightly surprised expression in the other. He put the bed down against the wall, in sight of the table, and then crouched down in front of me.
‘Do you mind if I …’
‘No, of course not.’ As awkward as I suddenly felt at Gabe’s hands brushing my thighs during the action of scooping up the little pup, I was as disinclined as he was to wake the patient. I quickly dismissed what else I felt at the touch and concentrated instead on watching as Gabe moved and laid Bryan gently in the bed. The dog dozily opened his eyes and looked at his master. A tired little tongue poked out of the side of his mouth and gave a lick to Gabe’s hand before the dog drifted off again. Gabe rubbed his pet’s head gently before tucking the prawn in next to his paws.
‘Here’s Petey, mate,’ he said quietly.
Bryan stretched and put one paw over the toy, dragging it closer. I smiled at the scene.
‘He loves that prawn.’
‘So I see.’
‘My parents sent it over from home when I first showed them a picture of Bryan.’
‘Gabe rescued Bryan last winter,’ Carrie said, waddling over. ‘He found him wandering the streets in the city, shivering with cold, and brought him back to the practice for us to check him over. He wasn’t in good shape but Gabe said if we could save him, he’d give him a home.’
I glanced over to where Gabe was now intent on not looking at us.
‘Need any help over there, Ned?’ he asked and headed off, his long legs crossing the room in a few strides. Within moments, the expression that had clouded his face cleared as he laughed with my brother.
Carrie lowered her voice. ‘We didn’t have a lot of hope for Bryan when he was brought in. He’d obviously been out on the streets for some time, fending for himself. We don’t know his history but he had a nasty wound on his neck that wasn’t healing, possibly from a collar or rope that had cut in. He’s the sweetest-natured dog too, poor little thing. It was difficult to know what to do for the best. His fur was gone in places with a skin infection and he had an abscess in his mouth. He was only young and in such a state, it was heartbreaking.’
I looked at the dog sleeping peacefully with his cuddle companion, surrounded by love and comfort, and my eyes filled with tears.
Carrie saw and gave me a squeeze.
‘Stupid,’ I said, quietly.
‘Not at all,’ she reassured me. ‘Believe me, we were all in tears.’ She surreptitiously nodded at the big, macho guy now lounging against her worktop.
‘Really?’ I whispered.
‘Really. He walked in with this mangy little dog wrapped in a jumper and stuffed down the front of his bike suit and begged us to save him. We told him that even if we could, it might be expensive, depending on what we found, but he just waved it away. I mean, I know he’s a doctor so he’s not short of a few bob, but still. He’d just picked this dog off the street and he was prepared to do anything to save him.’
‘I’m glad he found him.’
‘Me too. I don’t think the poor little thing would have lasted many more days to be honest.’
I looked at the puppy and got another wash of tears.
‘Will you stop doing that?’ I hissed at her.
She grinned.
‘OK, everybody ready?’ Ned asked.
We both looked up ready to acknowledge him when Ned spoke again. ‘Why are you crying?’
Not content with finishing top of his class in ‘Tact’, my brother had also majored in ‘Subtlety’.
‘I am not crying!’ I said. ‘It’s the onions.’
‘The onions went in two hours ago. You weren’t even here.’
‘She was upset about Bryan’s history,’ Carrie stated.
I looked at her.
‘What?’ she whispered. ‘You were!’
‘I don’t need them to know that!’ I whispered back.
‘Why not?’
‘You know we can still hear you, right?’ Ned asked, a puzzled look on his face.
I risked a quick look at Gabe, but he had his head down.
‘Didn’t you say something about dinner?’ I asked, changing the subject.
* * *
Dinner was, as always when my brother cooked, delicious. Chicken that melted in your mouth, Dauphinoise potatoes that were so creamy and light – I’d definitely be asking him for his secret – accompanied by vegetables plucked from their own garden a couple of hours previously. It smelled heavenly and tasted even better.
‘Fantastic, mate. As always. Thanks,’ Gabe said, sitting back in his seat.
‘You’re very welcome. Anything to keep our own private obstetrician happy.’
‘Oh, Ned, stop fussing.’ Carrie laughed, taking her husband’s hand. ‘Everything’s fine. We just saw the nurse this morning!’
‘I know. I’m just saying. It helps to know people. That’s all.’
‘I feel so used.’ Gabe affected a mock-distressed look, but laughter danced in his eyes.
‘What? You didn’t think we actually liked you, did you?’
Gabe crossed his arms, both hands resting on his heart. ‘I could only hope.’
Ned grinned around his glass and shook his head before taking a sip of his beer. I sat listening, and watching, the interaction – the easy friendship between them all – and felt a tug inside me. Was this something they did regularly? From the look and feel of the laid-back atmosphere, I guessed it was. As they carried on with their teasing, my mind wandered to what I would have been doing right now had I been at home in London. The kitchen clock above the door showed nearly 9 p.m. and I felt the tug again. I knew exactly what I’d be doing. I’d have been sat at my desk, a half-finished ready meal beside me, had I remembered to eat at all, with my head buried in paperwork as the office sat quiet around me.
‘Is that your speciality? Obstetrics?’ I asked as I took the plates Gabe handed me, having insisted on clearing the table and letting Carrie rest. She’d objected, of course, but not for too long. To be honest, I didn’t know a whole lot about being pregnant or babies but I did know from Ned that she was finding things more tiring than she’d hoped.
My brother had fallen head over heels for Carrie the moment he’d seen her and had been known to fuss over her – which although sometimes a little nauseating, depending on my mood, was mostly adorable. And they’d been trying for a baby for nearly two years before this little one appeared, so I totally understood his anxiety.
‘No. I’m actually a little further along that particular road. I’m a paediatrician.’
‘Oh wow. That’s got to be …’
He tilted his head at me as he waited for me to tell him what his career must be. Ned glanced over.
‘She’s amazing with figures but words are not her strong suit. If she cocks up here, take it with a pinch of salt.’
‘Do you mind?’ I said, feeling the blush touch my cheeks. Partly because I suspected Ned was right. While the actual meat of a presentation at work was something I could do with my eyes closed, the presentation itself, that whole speaking in front of people bit, was most definitely not my happy place. The pain in my chest would burn, my limbs would tingle and I’d have to concentrate on remembering to take enough breaths in between the words so as to not start