Out of Practice (30 page)

Dan did know. Henry unnerved him. He was so quick to stick out his hand for a perk, a bonus, anything extra to his already generous package. ‘He’s not quite cricket, is he?’
Dan said, remembering one of his dad’s old sayings.

‘If you mean, there’s every chance he’s a bit bent, with his hand in the till, then yeah. So if you look at the options, I’d say The Practice would be better off with a
caring, compassionate doctor, who’s a little too emotionally invested, than a control-freak or a blagger.’

Dan laughed and ran his hand back through his hair, grateful for Taffy’s loyalty and straight talking. ‘If you put it like that, I’d be mad to opt out. But we’re quietly
ignoring the elephant in the room here, Taff. What if Chris can’t get me settled again. What if I keep having problems and it affects my patients. What if somebody dies on my watch because I
couldn’t get it together in time and . . .’

‘Easy there, Cinderella!’ Taffy put out a steadying hand to Dan’s shoulder. ‘Playing “What if” will send you bonkers quicker than anything else. What if
Julia’s cost-cutting means someone doesn’t get the right meds? What if Henry’s so busy taking back-handers and perks from the drug-reps that he blows all the money on a
gold-plated stethoscope? What if Holly decides that husband of hers is a loser and moves in with me? What if? What if? What if?’

Dan smoothed his thumbnail against his bottom lip, as he thought about what Taffy had said. ‘So putting aside for one tiny moment your obsession with the delectable Dr Graham, you reckon
it’s best to shut up and stay put?’

‘Yup. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not disagreeing that you’ve gone a bit mental again lately. But it doesn’t make you the worst option, not by a long shot.’

‘Christ, is this what it’s come down to then? Two blokes on a river bank. One’s the best of a bad bunch at work and the other’s in love with a married woman who
hasn’t noticed he exists.’

‘Actually,’ said Taffy quietly, ‘I think she’s starting to. I gave her an Orange Club the other day and she called me an angel. And she let me help with the kids today.
God knows where that tosser Milo is, but he’s hardly proving to be Husband of the Year, is he?’

Dan said nothing, just looked out across the undulating grass, the group of runners like tiny ants on the horizon by now. The silence extended until he replied awkwardly, ‘Hmmm. Not sure
that means as much as you want it to though, Taff.’

‘Point taken. But it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it? How can she want to be married to a tosser called Milo, who writes books about Ancient Norse myths, for Christ’s
sake?’

‘Yes, but he was called Milo when she married him and that didn’t seem to stop her. And he’s been writing those god-awful books for years, and it didn’t stop her getting
pregnant with his twins. And . . . well, maybe you need to accept that she actually loves him. Even though, we can both agree, he is a monumental twat and you would clearly be a better
choice.’

‘Thanks, mate,’ said Taffy, a little choked up. ‘I’m sure it’s only because I can’t have her that I fancy her so much. It’s not like I’m in love
with her or anything, is it? Not like you and the limber Miss Grey?’ He sighed. ‘Jesus, I could murder a cigarette.’

‘How’s that going – giving up the fags?’ Dan asked. ‘Still trying that nicotine gum?’

‘Nah. I gave up on that – it’s shite, isn’t it? All I’ve got to show for the whole enterprise is an achey jaw from all the chewing and a strangely compelling
addiction to scratchcards.’

‘What? From the gum?’ Dan queried, confused.

‘No, you div, from trying to buy something other than fags every time I go into the petrol station.’

Dan swatted him on the back of his head and jumped to his feet. ‘And you call me a nutter? Alright then, Gobby. Therapy’s over. Shall we catch up with the others? I gather
Teddy’s doing bacon butties for all the swimmers at the pub.’

‘Seriously,’ said Taffy, leaping to his feet. ‘I’ve been listening to you waffle on and all this time, there was bacon.’ He gave Dan a wink.

Dan slammed the boot shut and locked the car. He smacked a hand onto Taffy’s shoulder as they headed into town, thanking his lucky stars he had a mate like Taffy, who instinctively knew
how to strike a balance between soppy and supportive. He simply didn’t know how he’d manage without him.

‘You know that t-shirt makes you look like a prat, don’t you, mate?’ said Dan, unable to communicate his affection any other way.

‘Yeah,’ Taffy countered with a grin, falling easily into their usual banter and bumping his shoulder, ‘but at least
I
can change my t-shirt.’

Swinging by The Kingsley Arms on the promise of bacon and a restorative beverage or two, Dan was surprised to see Elsie standing forlornly in the car park with an empty dog
lead swinging from her hand. ‘Oh shit,’ he muttered to Taffy, heading over to help.

‘Morning, Elsie. How are you?’ Dan said, trying to remain positive and upbeat, because he knew how much it infuriated her to be patronised.

‘I’ve lost the blasted dog again,’ she replied, looking perplexed rather than angry. ‘Must have slipped his leash and taken himself off for a walk.’ She ran the red
leather lead nervously through her hands and looked around, as if expecting the dog to materialise any moment.

‘What kind of dog is it?’ Taffy asked, always up to help.

‘He’s a little wire-haired Dachshund called Terry,’ she replied distractedly, trying to whistle, but failing as her lips were blue from standing in the cold.

‘Terry!’ Taffy shouted, making them all jump, and whistling loudly through his fingers. ‘Terry!’

‘He’s called Terry because he’s always so terribly behaved,’ Elsie confided.

‘Sweet,’ Dan said. ‘I hadn’t actually realised you had a dog.’

‘Mmm?’ said Elsie. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said, I hadn’t realised you had a dog,’ Dan repeated.

‘Oh, I haven’t,’ Elsie said, wandering off down the car park and jingling the lead.

Taffy stopped whistling and his face coloured. ‘Am I calling for an imaginary dog?’ he asked, disbelievingly.

‘Yup,’ said Dan. ‘Shame really, I thought Elsie was just having a little rough spell with all her blood pressure meds, but it looks like she really is losing the plot a
bit.’

‘Shifty bastard, dementia,’ agreed Taffy. ‘There’s just no real measure to begin with, is there? I mean, is she actually batty or is she just eccentric?’

‘Let’s assume for now, that she’s cold and needs some company. Any objections if I get her to join us for lunch?’

‘Fine by me, as long as I don’t have to go on imaginary poop patrol and you get her to tell those fabulous stories about when she was famous.’

‘She still is famous, Taffy. She’s just famous for actually doing something, rather than having big boobs and living in Chelsea. Her fame actually means something. I mean,
there’s a sodding Oscar in the downstairs loo!’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously – she uses it to hold the spare loo roll. I think she’s a hoot and I can’t pretend I won’t be gutted if she’s going a bit gaga.’

They caught up with Elsie and reassured her that they could keep looking for Terry once she’d warmed up a bit. Dan guided her into the warmth of the pub and settled her down at a corner
table.

‘Well, aren’t you a darling,’ she said. ‘I can’t remember the last time I dined out with two such gorgeous young men. No, no bacon for me thank you, Dr Carter. A
girl has to watch her figure, you know. Just a large glass of white and some olives please.’

Dan didn’t argue, but made a point of ordering Elsie a bowl of leek and potato soup to warm her through. She may be struggling with reality today, but she wasn’t getting tiddly on
his watch.

Teddy wrote down the order and looked over at Taffy roaring with laughter at one of Elsie’s shocking anecdotes. ‘Did she find her dog then?’ he asked, leaning around from
behind the bar to check the floor.

Dan shook his head sadly. ‘There is no dog, Teddy. I think she may have got a little confused, that’s all.’

‘No dog?’

‘No dog.’

‘Ah. Okay. She seemed pretty sure, but then I suppose she is an actress, isn’t she? Shame we’ve all got to get old, isn’t it. Even Dad’s losing the plot a bit, I
reckon. This whole retirement business has him really stressed out and he’s driving Peter nuts phoning him in Edinburgh all the time.’ Teddy stopped abruptly, suddenly realising he may
have spoken out of turn.

Dan smiled. ‘It would be much easier for him if Peter picked up the reins, I know. It might actually be easier for everyone the way things are going at work.’

Teddy nodded. ‘Stethoscopes at dawn, I gather.’

‘Something like that.’

The pub door whooshed open and Grace appeared in the doorway, apparently with half a hedgerow in her hair. In her arms was a filthy, muddy, but undeniably smug-looking Dachshund.

‘You angel! Grace, you’ve found him.’ Elsie held out the red lead and Grace gratefully plonked the wriggling bundle on the floor, making sure that the lead was firmly attached
first. When Terry wagged his tail, his entire body wiggled and he butted his head against Elsie’s leg delightedly. She handed him a packet of crisps from the table and Terry stuck his head
into the bag ecstatically, until the crisp packet was up to his middle and wagging in time with his tail.

‘But?’ said Dan and Taffy as one.

Grace dropped into Dan’s chair and he pulled up another without a word. ‘He’d been round the back of the pub again, looking for leftovers. Found him trying to mate with half a
salami.’

Elsie chuckled and scruffed the crazy fur along his back. ‘I don’t know what I would say to Mrs Grover if I lost him again. She’s sweet enough to let him come to visit while
she’s at work.’

Grace smiled indulgently. ‘Actually, I think you’re technically doing her a favour, dog-sitting every day. But, yes, let’s not lose him again this week at least.’

Elsie reached down and scooped Terry up on to her lap, ignoring the streaks of mud being spread over her expensive dress. ‘It’s not your fault you have to live up to your name, is
it, darling? We should rechristen him, I think. Any ideas?’

‘Stinky?’ suggested Taffy, with a sharp look at Dan.

‘Roger?’ Dan put forward, as Terry took a liking to Elsie’s leg.

Grace spluttered and Elsie chuckled wickedly. ‘I think we need something a little more positive for a role model, don’t you? How about Hector? That’s rather
aristocratic.’

‘Or Cuddles?’ said Grace. ‘Give him something to aim for?’

‘Hector? Hector?’ Elsie warbled, trying to get his attention.

‘Drinks?’ interrupted Teddy, arriving with a laden tray. He placed all the glasses on the table and picked up the shredded crisp packet without comment. ‘No dog, eh?’ he
said under his breath to Dan. ‘You’ll be starting rumours that she’s lost the plot, if you’re not careful.’

‘It’s her neighbour’s,’ Dan replied. ‘I hadn’t realised she was dog-sitting.’

‘Still better to get your facts straight. You know what the rumour mill is like round here. People will believe anything really. Even the idea of a teacher and a doctor going at it in a
steamy Land Rover.’ He gave Dan a wink and returned to the bar, while Dan’s face coloured and he found himself unable to join in the conversation for quite some time.

As the day passed happily, with the help of vast quantities of bacon and several pints of local scrumpy, The Kingsley Arms became quite the gathering point. By lunchtime so
many tables were pulled together that it looked like a private party. An American couple passing through had to be persuaded by Teddy that they were in fact open for business and of course they
could come on in.

Dan returned to the table from getting in the latest round, to find that Terry/Hector had sickened himself with titbits and was now lying across Taffy’s lap having his tummy gently
massaged, until a burst of flatulence relieved his discomfort and he was back for seconds.

There was a lull in the conversation and Dan suddenly felt on the spot. ‘Did I miss something?’

Elsie smiled wickedly. ‘Not at all, I was just getting the juicy gossip from Taffy. Although, to be honest, we all knew. You can
always
tell who’s been up shagging all
night. It brings such a bloom to the skin.’

‘Elsie!’ Dan protested, but she laughed at his discomfort.

‘Alas, the bloom has faded off this rose,’ she said, patting her own cheek for emphasis. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy life vicariously though, does it?’ She
leaned forward and clasped Dan’s hand. ‘Was it absolutely fabulous, darling? You do have such enormous hands, so I’d always wondered.’

‘Elsie!’ the table chorused.

She held up a hand to silence them and three diamond tennis bracelets slid down her slender wrists. ‘Alright, alright. But how else can a woman of a certain age get her own back, when she
stands accused of looking for an imaginary dog? Hmm?’

Dan looked mortified. ‘Oh Elsie, I’m so sorry.’

She laughed in delight. ‘I was almost disappointed when Grace found him to be honest, we could have had fun with that one all day.’

Holly fumbled for her door keys, as she attempted to balance the huge bag of wet swim-kit on the pram. The twins were fast asleep, exhausted by their exploits and stuffed full
of bacon. Given the choice, she’d have stayed at the pub all day, chatting to all the locals and getting to know them as people, not patients. She still couldn’t quite believe how
quickly she felt at home or how welcoming everyone had been. There’d been a table set up in the corner of the family bar with colouring crayons and nibbles for the children, which meant that
Holly had finally got to meet some of the parents from Nursery too.

It was a shame really that Milo had been ringing her mobile every twenty minutes or so, demanding to know when they’d be home. He’d made such a song and dance about weekends being
family time, you would have thought it would have occurred to him to come along! Or, for that matter, for him to be at home now.

Holly carefully manoeuvred the fully laden Beast into the hallway and left the twins to their siesta. The house echoed with emptiness and Holly had to fight the rising tide of her temper.
She’d left the Post-Swim Party in mid-flow, against all her better judgement, to come home to an empty house. He hadn’t even left a note or sent her a text. It was Classic Milo.