The Green Hills of Home (13 page)

She wondered if she could share
all that had been said with John when she returned home and get his advice. She
wanted to, but wasn’t sure how happy her mother would be with her care being
discussed like that. Or for that matter whether John would want to hear about
it.

She still couldn’t work him out,
or despite her attraction, even be certain what she thought of him deep down.
Yet she somehow knew he could be trusted.

John found himself clockwatching
whilst Gwen was at the hospital that evening. He filled in the time until she
got back by starting to prepare their supper.

"What do you reckon, some
basil on these or some thyme?" asked John, showing Oscar the tray of
tomatoes he was preparing for the oven. "Thyme? Right you are then."

John turned back to the oven and
muttered to himself "I really am going crazy," before giving Oscar’s
head a little pat and returning to the cooking.

He couldn’t do anymore until Gwen
was back and he felt too restless to work so he decided to take Oscar out to
occupy himself. There was something so calming about walking the hills here.

"Right, I’ve done about
everything I can here until your Mam comes home."  Did I really just refer
to Gwen as the dog’s Mam? John thought to himself horrified. "Shall we go
out for a walk?"

At the mention of his favourite
word, Oscar rushed to the back door joyfully and then back to John, encouraging
him to hurry up. John laughed, grabbed his coat and Oscar’s lead and let the
dog drag him out of the house, through the garden, out of the back gate, and
onto the beautiful open hillside.

The sky was ominous but the cool
air refreshing after being indoors working and cooking all afternoon. Oscar was
in very high spirits and busily poked his nose into anything he could find in
the hope of discovering a good smell or possibly even a rabbit to chase.

John smiled to himself as he
reached the top of the hill and collapsed to the ground. His heart was pumping
hard and he was out of breath, but he felt good. He always kept himself in
shape, going to the gym regularly and playing squash every now and again with
some work colleagues, but it was great to be out in the fresh air. Oscar lay
down beside him and gave his hand a nudge. John stroked him absentmindedly. He
felt strange for a moment and tried to work out why. He concluded it was
probably because he found himself in such an unusual situation. John rarely had
the chance to spend any time out of doors back in London. He usually had a taxi
pick him up from outside his flat and take him to and from the office. The
weekends were spent working, in the gym or occasionally networking with
colleagues (which generally involved being inside a restaurant or a bar). He
was also rarely around animals, he'd never even had a pet as a child: Mother
hated anything hairy, and Father was too busy with the business and didn’t
think it fair to ask the staff to look after one. And yet, despite their short
acquaintance, he was already coming to rely on Oscar's companionship when Gwen
was out.

Once John had got his breath back
he got up and wandered down the open hillside to the road, whistling to Oscar
to follow him and swinging the dog’s lead by his side. The state of Edith’s
care in the hospital was making him preoccupied. He wanted to do something to help
but wasn’t quite sure what he could do without being accused of interfering.
After all, this woman’s treatment wasn’t really any of his business. He found
it unsettling that he was thinking so much about trying to help her, and was
very aware that it was his feelings for Gwen which were driving him to do so.
Still, whilst John wasn’t sure that Gwen would react kindly to him sticking his
nose into her family’s business, he couldn’t stop pondering the problem.

John swung Oscar’s lead back and
forth in his hand as he thought and watched Oscar happily gambolling about. He
reached the funny little winding road and decided to follow it for a while and
see if he could find the pub which Gwen had mentioned was in this direction; a
pint would nicely fill in the time before he needed to get back and continue
making dinner.

John’s thoughts returned once
again to Gwen’s mother. Well, something had to be done: Gwen clearly wasn’t
happy with how things were. He began to decisively hunt for the mobile phone in
his coat pocket so he could call the hospital and speak to someone about some
changes for Edith – she must at least be able to be moved to a quieter ward so
she could get some rest at night. John was amazed to find he was so relaxed
that for once he’d forgotten to bring his phone with him.

A sudden screech of brakes
followed by a thump made him look up suddenly. The car had come round the
corner, crashed into Oscar and driven off, before John even noticed the dog had
strayed onto the road. Oscar’s lead hung redundant in John’s hand as the dog
lay motionless on the tarmac.

Gwen came in the front door of
her house. It was dark outside and she was surprised to see there were no
lights on indoors. She’d barely time to register that neither Oscar nor John
were home when the phone started ringing.

"Gwen! Thank goodness you’re
back."

"John? Are you alright?
Where are you?"

"I’m fine, but Oscar’s had
an accident. It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, he’s been hit by a car; he’s
alive, but badly hurt. We’re at the vets; how quickly can you get here?"

"I’m leaving now," said
Gwen automatically, and she headed straight out of the door again.

Gwen managed to hold back the
tears until she started the car but then they came steadily until she finally
pulled up outside the vet’s ten minutes later. She raced from the vehicle, only
just remembering to lock it in her hurry.

John was waiting for her.

"Is he…" asked Gwen,
not wanting to put her fear into words.

"The vet’s still working on
him, but it looks like he’s going to be okay. He’s in shock and is very
battered and bruised, but thankfully nothing’s broken. The vet said if the car
had been going any faster he would have been killed instantly. I’m so sorry."

Gwen began to cry even harder.

"Come on" said John,
putting his arm around her. "He’ll be wanting to see you."

He led her round the side of the
building.

"It’s not technically open"
he explained, "We need to go in the back entrance."

Gwen spoke to the vet once he’d
finished, he reassured her that Oscar would be alright. He’d badly sprained one
of his back legs, was concussed and there had been some issues with a small
amount of internal bleeding. The dog was now sedated. He’d have to stay there
for a few days until he got over the shock. Gwen whispered to Oscar that she
loved him before reluctantly leaving to return home. John had waited in the
reception room whilst Gwen was talking to the vet. He got up as soon as he saw
her coming out of the examination room and followed her to her car.

"Would you like me to drive?"
he asked.

"I’ll be fine," said
Gwen quietly.

They drove in silence and when
they got home Gwen went straight up to her room and to bed.

John made himself a tea and put
away the food he’d been preparing earlier in the kitchen. He went up to his own
room feeling wretched; he couldn’t get the look on poor Oscar’s face when he’d
wrapped him up in his coat out of his mind. He’d carried Oscar to the pub in
the end, looking for a phone as there were no houses nearby, and by some
miracle found the local vet there. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid:
Gwen had told him to put Oscar on the lead if he went anywhere near a road, it
wasn’t exactly a complex instruction to follow. It really was just pure luck
that Oscar was still alive. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive
himself.

Whilst Gwen lay in bed trying in
vain to get to sleep she began to wonder how she was ever going to pay for
Oscar’s treatment. She didn’t have pet insurance and just the stay at the vets
was sure to cost a small fortune, let alone any follow-up visits and medication
he’d have to have. She resolved to speak to the vet when she went there again
the following day. Oscar must get the treatment he needed, but maybe she and
the vet could come to some sort of credit arrangement.

Gwen was at the vets as soon as
they opened the following morning. She went out without speaking to John. This
was completely intentional; she had nothing to say to him and no desire to see
him. She blamed him completely for Oscar’s accident; as far as she was
concerned he had acted stupidly and irresponsibly. She should never have
trusted him with Oscar; he’d probably been so busy on his mobile that he hadn’t
been watching her dog at all. She was just so upset and holding onto her rage
helped. Most of all, she was disappointed that her faith in John had been a
mistake. How could she have been so lax as to allow him to look after her
precious pet?

"You paid for Oscar’s
treatment," stated Gwen as she marched into the kitchen on her return.

"Yes," John stated
simply.

"You didn’t have to do that."

"Yes I did, his accident was
my fault."

"Thank you" said Gwen
quietly and turned to leave.

"Gwen," said John,
calling her back.

"Yes?"

"I really am very, very
sorry."

"I know," Gwen gave him
a small smile, feeling the first lessenings of her anger and hurt.

She turned on her laptop, hoping
she’d be able to put her worries to one side and get a few decent hours of work
in.

Gwen felt a bit strange having
John pay for Oscar’s treatment but was determined not to feel guilty about it –
as far as she was concerned the accident had been caused by John’s negligence
and, despite the fact that they had to finish her novel, she was very tempted
to ask John to leave. She would never have belittled herself by asking John for
the money but she thought it right that he was paying. It was also a sign of
his remorse, which did soften her feelings somewhat.

She returned to the kitchen after
calling the vets to check again on Oscar’s progress, the nurse said he was
sleeping peacefully and had managed to eat some of the treats she’d left for
him. The nurse also spoke about John.

"I’ve just phoned the vets,
Oscar’s improving."

"That’s great," said
John, closing his laptop with a sigh.

"They told me what you did,"
said Gwen as John handed her a cup of coffee.

John didn’t reply. He just looked
pensively into his own mug.

"They said if you hadn’t
kept Oscar warm and got help so quickly then he might not have made it,"
continued Gwen.

"It was the least I could
do," said John uncomfortably.

"They also told me about you
taking Oscar’s blanket there in the middle of the night."

John looked a little embarrassed
then.

"I needed to do something,"
he said eventually. "I read on the internet that the smell of something
familiar can be reassuring to a sick animal."

"Well, thank you, I’m sure
it helped."

"You don’t need to thank me,"
said John. It sounded sharper than he’d meant it; Gwen looked a bit taken
aback.

"Sorry, that came out wrong.
This whole mess is completely my fault. My mind wandered and I forgot to put
the lead on Oscar. I’m so sorry."

"I know you are," said
Gwen softly. "Come on, let’s get something to eat and see if we can get
some more work in."

"There’s some carrot and
coriander soup in the fridge, I made it earlier but wasn’t sure if you’d be
hungry."

"Great, I’ll heat it up. Is
there any bread?" When did I get to the point where I have to ask John if
there’s bread in my own home, she thought to herself.

"Yes, I picked up some of
the poppy seed rolls you like from the bakers."

I could get used to this, she mused
stirring the soup. And as suddenly as it had come, it almost passed: whilst her
anger with him hadn’t disappeared, it had definitely calmed and she could tell
he was doing the best he could to make up for his mistake.

The sun was out in full force and
woke Gwen up far earlier than usual the next morning. Her first thought was how
nice it would be to go for a decent walk with Oscar. She felt tears begin to
prick at her eyes immediately and resolved to try not to allow worries about
poor Oscar to affect her writing. She’d do her best to concentrate until she
could go to visit him at the vets. She’d pick up some more of his favourite
treats on the way.

John was busy working in the
kitchen as usual when Gwen returned.

John looked up expectantly and
asked, "How is he?" as soon as Gwen stepped in the door.

"He’s a lot better. The vet
says he’s coming along really well. He should be able to come home in a few
days."

"That’s very good news"
said John, looking relieved.

"He’ll still need to go back
there for check-ups and he won’t be able to go for a proper walk for ages."

"I suppose not," said
John, immediately looking glum and turning back to his computer screen.

Gwen felt bad: she was ashamed
that, despite herself, a small part of her still wanted John to feel guilty
about Oscar, whilst the rest of her knew that what had happened was an accident
that John regretted terribly. She wanted to gloss over how ill Oscar was, to
spare John’s feelings, yet there was an inner voice almost wanting her to
re-hash to John every detail of the pain Oscar had been through because of his
carelessness.

"How did he seem?"
asked John out of the blue a few minutes later.

"Quiet, but comfortable,"
replied Gwen, before adding. "He was lying on the blanket you took in for
him."

John didn’t comment, but seemed
more relaxed when Gwen suggested they stop for lunch an hour later.