“What is it Maggie?”
She slowly withdrew a midnight blue wrapped case and showed it to Richard.
“Maggie, I know he intended to be here at your party. It must be the birthday gift he would have given you that night.”
She sat down at Iain’s desk before her trembling legs gave way under her. Was it meant for her? Slowly she removed the ribbon and layers of tissue paper and a card fell onto the desk, upside down. What would she see if she turned it over? She looked up at Richard. He was waiting for her to read it.
She turned the card and bit her lip as she read the words ‘Will you dance with me once more?’ in Iain’s distinctive writing. No name. No clues. She opened the box and gazed at the exquisite and obviously very expensive bracelet.
*
Maggie drove very carefully the next morning, realising just how weary she felt after spending so many hours the previous evening on Iain’s computer. She was familiar with basic computing skills, having used her own laptop for many years now for the household accounts, parish accounts and minutes of meetings. Every day she checked her email, keeping in touch with her school friends and pen friends. She’d even had to buy a colour printer to handle all the posters, flyers and newsletters for the village. Not until Richard had shown her, though, had she known how to log onto Iain’s big desktop computer in the study that was linked to the office server. She already understood directory structures and he had carefully tutored her until she grasped the concept of network drives. Thankfully all Windows type software seemed to behave along the same basic rules, thanks to the power of the Microsoft Corporation, so it wasn’t too difficult to navigate her way around.
Richard’s revelations had come as yet another shock, and once she’d realised the state of affairs knew how important it was that she take some responsibility for the continued wellbeing of the company. For the first time she would not be Company Secretary in name only, not while Iain remained so ill.
She’d carefully read and then signed the documents Richard had taken to the house, then spent a long time trying to familiarise herself with the software the company used and the company files. If she was correct in her research so far the Northamptonshire project was in real jeopardy unless carefully handled over the next month. With the company finances already being on a knife edge, the various penalty clauses in this contract were large enough to have the potential to sink the commercial side of the business entirely.
She didn’t like what she had seen of Iain’s methods to date there either, unless she was misreading it entirely. She didn’t think she was mistaken, though, bearing in mind Richard’s veiled comments. OK, the company had been facing cutthroat competition for the last few years, a fact of which she had been unaware until now, but she did not agree with the extreme measures to which Iain seemed to have resorted to try and save it.
She had compiled a long list of questions to ask Richard in order to verify her findings. Then she could work on a list of actions to be taken, with his advice and guidance, once she’d cleared her mind enough to be able to think clearly again.
For now, though, there was something else she had to do that was high on her list of priorities. She glanced at the lead and collar on the seat and took a deep breath, hoping for the best but secretly fearing the worst. Her phone calls to the rescue centre had not allayed her worries about Deefor. Their comments about his welfare had been guarded and she took that to mean he was not faring well. Mentally she had reached out to him each day of her absence, begging him to hang on in there, to believe she’d be back for him. They’d had such a short time together before the accident though, and just at the point he was starting to trust her, she, too, had disappeared from his life.
She pulled into the parking lot and took several deep breaths before getting out of the car. Schez had spotted her and came over.
“Hi Maggie,” she greeted her. “I’m so glad you’re back. Our boy needs you badly.”
A worried frown creased Maggie’s forehead. “I knew it,” she said, placing a restraining hand on Schez’s arm. “Has he slipped back as bad as he was?”
Schez led the way to the kennels. “Well,” she admitted, “he’s not been a bundle of fun. Depressed I’d say about describes him the last couple of weeks.”
“Oh no, the poor boy.” Maggie looked devastated and her footsteps faltered.
Schez pulled her on in. “Hey, it’s not that bad,” she assured Maggie. “I know dogs and I’ve got a gut feeling it just means you were really making progress with him. Let’s see how he reacts now you’re back.”
As they approached Deefor’s kennel they heard an excited whining and Maggie looked at Schez, not daring to hope it was true, but Schez grinned.
“He’s heard your voice,” she claimed. “I knew you’d got through to him.”
Sure enough Deefor was at the front of his kennel, tail wagging frantically and a sparkle in his eyes neither woman had seen there before. Schez could hardly get the gate open before Deefor had jumped up to plant his front paws on Maggie’s shoulders and began to lick her face in greeting.
“There,” Schez crowed, absolutely delighted, “he’s been missing you.”
“Deefor my boy,” Maggie got out in a choked voice, “it’s so good to see you!” She got down on her knees in the kennel and gave him a huge cuddle as tears coursed down her cheeks. He really was her boy now and never, never would she allow anything to come between them again.
“Yep,” Schez affirmed gleefully, “I reckon he’s claimed you now.” As far as she was concerned it was always the dog’s right to choose it’s carer, not the other way round, and she was happy with Deefor’s choice. “Perhaps he just didn’t dare to until you’d proved you could be trusted to come back.”
Liz had seen Maggie’s arrival and followed them into the kennels, interested to see what the big Shepherd’s reaction would be. It was very satisfying to see him truly happy for the first time since his owner had been killed in the RTA. It was time for him to go home, time for him to continue his bonding with his new owner.
When they returned from their walk Liz called Maggie over. “Bring Deefor over to the office, Maggie. I need you to sign the adoption papers if you want to take him home today.”
“Today? Oh, that’s the best news I’ve had in weeks.” She bent down and hugged Deefor. “Hear that, my boy? You’re coming home!” He grinned at her and licked her face.”
Deefor lay at her feet while they completed the paperwork for the adoption and the transfer of the microchip details to Maggie. Schez gathered his blanket, bowls and toys from his kennel and bagged them to take to Maggie’s car.
Maggie gave them both a big hug before she left. “I think you know how much this means to me. I promise I won’t let you down – I’ll take very good care of him.”
“I know you will,” Liz hugged her back.
“Oh, the adoption fee,” Maggie suddenly remembered. “You need a cheque from me.”
“No, Angela’s already taken care of that. What you can do, though, if you’ve a mind to, is help us raise funds at our next event. It’s in the early planning stages just yet but we’re thinking of doing something here, probably at the beginning of next month.”
“What, a garden fete sort of thing?”
“That’s right; sell some tea and cakes, tombola, jumble, whatever we can think of.”
“Why not do a car boot as well? They’re ever so popular so it would attract more people and you get to charge the car booters without having to do more than provide the pitches. There’s plenty of room in the field.”
“Excellent idea! I’ll check with the council what the regulations are, if any.”
“And definitely put me down for the cake stall – I love baking. I’ll bring fruit juices and if you can get a temporary licence I’ll bring wine, beer and lager too.”
“Welcome aboard Maggie – like it or not you’re now one of the permanent members of the fund raising crew. We need all the good ideas we can get.”
*
On the way to the hospital Maggie extended her mental to do list. She’d put down the rear seats of her hatchback so Deefor had plenty of room. If she sorted out a foam base in two parts to make it more comfortable for him, with some machine washable material for removable covers, he could stretch in comfort when the seats were down, or just have one part in when she needed the back seats. The covers would resolve the problem of muddy paws in and out of her car on a regular basis. She’d also need to get a dog screen fitted as, apart from the safety aspect in case of an accident, it was most distracting to keep getting a big, handsome, grinning face over her shoulder as she was driving. That too, though, would need to be used with back seats up or back seats down. She wondered if Alec in the local garage could rig something that could easily be clipped to either of two sets of fixings.
In the back with Deefor were his personal things, his blankets, his bowls and favourite toys from the time before the accident. They still needed to learn how to play together, but there was time for that as he gained confidence. In a way it was a real voyage of discovery they each had ahead of them and she, for one, was really looking forward to it. A part of her felt healed after receiving such unconditional love today. She was determined to repay that wonderful gift.
It was not necessary to shop for food for him immediately. Liz had supplied her with enough for at least a week.
“Feed him any brand of food you fancy,” she had said. “Dogs are not fussy creatures generally. But you’ll save yourself the bother of coping with an upset tummy if you gradually wean him over to the food of your choice from this one that he’s used to at the moment.”
Maggie felt like feeding him nothing but prime steak but realised that was daft. She’d investigate the options tomorrow. She also wanted a couple of beds for him so he had a comfortable place of his own in the kitchen and another in the bedroom. She was determined he was to be her constant companion, and that included at night.
First she had the hospital visit to get out of the way. It gave her a bit of a jolt to realise that’s how she felt about it, but it really was a duty visit. Her husband did not respond in any way to her presence that she could discern, and when he did come round she did not know what either of them would say or how they would react. Just what did one say to a husband who had been unfaithful but who was still recovering from a very serious injury? She had gone through several stages. First the numb disbelieving shock, then the urge to scream and yell and cry, to demand answers. Then came the nagging little voice, the one she didn’t want to listen to, that kept whispering that perhaps she had driven him away, that she was to blame.
Now, having had to wait so long, she felt curiously detached, as though it was some other woman involved, not herself. Each passing day it became more difficult to equate this lifeless, unresponsive body to the vital man she had married, the man she adored, the man who had betrayed her.
She pulled into a parking space and told Deefor “Stay!” while she went to get a ticket from the machine. Liz had done her homework with friends of his first owner to ascertain which words of command had been used, not wanting to cause further confusion in Deefor’s troubled mind. Deefor watched her closely and wagged his tail as she returned. After sticking the ticket in the car windscreen she told him “Guard!” and Deefor was happy, knowing that he was now on duty until Maggie returned, knowing that she would return. Maggie was certain that, even with the lack of security cameras covering this part of the car park, her car was quite safe with an impressive looking boy like Deefor inside it.
She made her way up to the ward and slid over the tubular metal and plastic visitors’ chair to the side of Iain’s bed. She glanced at his face, and then took a closer look. Was there a change? There was nothing she could define but something seemed different.
“Iain – can you hear me?” she asked, feeling rather foolish.
“It’s a good idea to talk to him as much as possible.”
Maggie jumped at the unexpected voice behind her.
“I’m sorry,” the tall, thin man apologised. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Dr Negus,” he introduced himself. “And you must be Mrs McTavish.”
“Yes,” she confirmed as they shook hands. “Is he coming out of the coma?”
Dr Negus smiled. “Trust a wife to notice a difference straight away!” He pulled over another chair and took Iain’s chart from the end of the bed before sitting next to her. “We did a QEEG, a quantified electroencephalogram, shortly after the transfer,” he told her, pulling a long strip of paper from the back of the clipboard. “There’s nothing definite yet but look at this part of the trace. We get this by putting small electrodes all over your husband’s head and tracing the electrical patterns of the brain, checking which areas of the brain are spending how long in the different rhythms, the alpha, beta, theta and delta activity,” he explained. “See this part here? It is showing activity that is closer to conscious than comatose patients. It’s the most hopeful thing we’ve seen yet.”
“But that pattern doesn’t last,” Maggie noticed as she looked at the differences on the trace. “So he started coming round then slipped back?” she queried.
“In a way, but that’s the general pattern of these cases. Also, brain wave activity changes with different levels of alertness throughout the day, even where there isn’t brain injury. Basically, though, these periods will get longer as he starts coming back up through the layers of consciousness. It shouldn’t be long at all before he’s back with us. We also checked with a test that’s called evoked potentials, that checks the electrical signals the brain generates when the sensory systems – vision, hearing, touch – are stimulated. We particularly wanted to check the results from the somatosensory potentials over the parietal lobes, the area your husband was injured.”
“I’m not sure I caught all of that, but I get your drift. What did you find?” Maggie was scared of the possible answer but Dr Negus seemed optimistic.
He smiled broadly, “Far less damage than there might have been,” he assured her. “He has a real fighting chance of a full recovery.”