Follow Me Home (28 page)

I stand up and take his hand to lead him out from the kitchen, and I don't know what happens exactly, but there's a clattering sound behind us, followed by a growl, and Lewis and I turn to find the dogs—Miley and Frosty, to be precise – scrapping and snarling among scattering plate fragments over a crust of leftover garlic bread. Mick is standing barking, like a headmaster trying to break up a fight in the playground.

Frosty and Miley are having a tug of war over the crust, but when neither of them is prepared to give it up, Miley lets go and flies at Frosty, biting at her neck until she gets a firm grasp with her teeth and shakes her. Frosty is screaming. I'm screaming at the dogs. Lewis is trying to separate them.

‘Get her off! She's going to kill her!' I look around for a weapon, finding Lewis's crook. I hook it around Miley's neck and haul at it. Still, she won't let go of poor Frosty. Lewis grabs the crook too and, between us, we manage to pull her off, choking, cold-eyed, and intent on returning to finish off what she started. Lewis drags her away and shuts her in the other room and I fall to my knees to help Frosty, but her eyes are filled with terror and, before I can hold onto her, she struggles to her feet and runs across the kitchen, out of the door and across the yard.

‘Frosty!' I scramble up to chase after her, but I'm too slow, and the last I see is the white tip of her tail disappearing through the hedge across the drive. ‘Frosty!' I glance down to find my fingers are wet with blood.

‘Frosty's bleeding,' I say, turning to Lewis, who's right behind me with Mick at his heels.

‘Which way did she go?' he says.

I show him and he takes Mick to the point in the hedge where she disappeared.

‘Find her.' Lewis sends him through the gap. ‘He isn't a sniffer dog, but it's worth a try.'

‘Where are you going?' I say quickly when he heads back across the yard. ‘That's my dog out there; she's
petrified and she could be bleeding to death.'

‘I know. I'm taking the pick-up. You go through the field. I'll see if I can head her off – if she's still running, that is. Go, Zara,' he adds with urgency. ‘Go!'

I run across and climb the gate. I can see Mick searching the top of the field with his nose to the ground, tacking back and forth like the boats do on the estuary down at Talymouth. I jog across the grass, my legs heavy with apprehension at what I'm going to find – if we find her because, with her long legs, Frosty could be miles away by now. I notice how Mick pauses, raising his head in the ear-flipping breeze. Suddenly, he turns and disappears under the fence and into the covert beyond.

‘Anything?' I hear Lewis calling from the gate that opens out onto the road.

‘I think Mick's onto something,' I yell back.

I struggle over the fence – the posts are wobbly – and duck under the low branches of hazel and ash, catching my trousers on brambles as I follow the sound of Mick whining from somewhere in the undergrowth. I hear the sound of an engine cutting out, then Lewis's footsteps as he catches up with me, his breath harsh and rasping with the exertion.

‘Where did Mick go?' he gasps.

‘Sh,' I say sharply. ‘Listen.' There's a whimper. ‘That's her. That's Frosty.' I crawl further into the bushes and there, in a small clearing, is Mick, standing over my beautiful dog, licking at her neck. ‘Frosty!' She's lying on her front, panting. I kneel beside her and grab hold, but she isn't going anywhere this time. She's too weak.

‘How is she?' Lewis joins me with his mobile pressed to one ear. He hands me a tea-towel. ‘I grabbed it from the kitchen,' he says in explanation. I fold it and press it hard against the wound in Frosty's neck to stem the steady flow of dark blood.

‘It's coming from the jugular. Oh god, she's going to die.'

‘Hold on, Frosty,' Lewis says. ‘Thanks. We'll be on our way,' he finishes his call. ‘Zara, let's get her into the pick-up. We'll take her straight to Otter House.'

‘I can't let go of this,' I say, gesturing to the makeshift pressure pad, where a deep purple stain is seeping through. Lewis pulls off his T-shirt and I wrap that over the top.

‘Which vet is it?' I ask abruptly when we're speeding far too fast down the lane towards Talyton St George with Frosty in the front and Mick in the back.

‘Maz.'

‘Good.'

‘It's lucky there's no one else on the road,' Lewis comments.' How's she doing?'

I shake my head. I can't speak. Frosty's barely conscious, her body heavy across my lap. My fingers are sticky with blood and my heart weighed down with guilt for having put her in this situation because I knew – Lewis and I both knew – of the potential for a proper bust-up. We should have kept the dogs apart, especially when there was food around.

At Otter House, Maz and Izzy admit Frosty straight away, telling Lewis and me to wait while they do what they can. Lewis sits in reception, staring at the toe of
his sock – he didn't even put his shoes on before we left the farm – while I pace the floor.

‘Sit down,' he says, looking up.

‘I can't.'

‘I can't begin to say how sorry I am,' he begins after a long silence.

I put my hand up. ‘Don't! Don't say anything.' The lights are down low and the heat has gone out of the day. The scent of dog and disinfectant and the sound of the drunks' happy laughter as they kick a tin can along the street make me feel nauseous.

Eventually, Maz appears, surrounded by a halo of light from the corridor beyond her.

‘How is she?' I ask. ‘How's Frosty?'

‘Very poorly,' she says gently. ‘She's lost a lot of blood. Izzy's on the phone trying to find a donor dog – she really needs a transfusion.'

It doesn't seem very promising to me. It's late. People will be turning in for the night.

‘What about Mick . . . or Miley?' Lewis moves up beside me. ‘They're working collies,' he adds. ‘Mick is a good boy. If I could sit with him while you take the blood . . .'

‘Can you bring him in right away?' Maz says.

‘He's right here in the pick-up. I'll fetch him.'

‘I'll check him over beforehand to make sure he's healthy,' Maz goes on, but Lewis is already at the door.

‘Are you sure, Lewis?' I feel guilty offering up Mick – he's a very sensitive soul and he's already done enough by following Frosty's trail and finding her.

‘It's now or never. It'll be too late in the morning.'
Maz invites me to sit with Frosty; she is lying on her side wrapped in blankets on the prep bench. She's on a drip and has a large bandage snug around her neck. Izzy is holding a mask over her nose to deliver oxygen.

‘Oh, Frosty . . .' I'm close to tears as I reach out and stroke her head. ‘Why's she shivering? She can't be cold.'

‘She's in shock,' Maz says. ‘Would you mind holding the mask so Izzy can get on with preparing for the transfusion in case we go ahead with it?'

I don't mind at all. I'd do anything for Frosty – she's my best friend, my confidante, my baby. I hold the mask. Her eyes are open, but I'm not sure she's aware of what's going on. She knows I'm here with her, though. At least, I hope so.

Within half an hour, Mick is sitting on a trolley alongside us. He has an IV line in and a collection bag gradually filling with blood. Lewis stands with him, reminding him now and again to stay. Mick looks resigned.

Maz monitors both dogs while Izzy gets theatre ready.

‘I'm going to operate. I'll extend the wound and check for any damage to underlying structures in her neck before I suture it up – and I want to see how far the bite wounds on the left side of her chest extend. I can't see anything on the X-ray, but I'm still worried she could have punctured a lung. Are you okay with that?'

I nod. I have no choice.

Soon Frosty is on an anaesthetic machine, being transfused with Mick's blood. Mick is enjoying tea and biscuits, thanks to Izzy, who offers Lewis and me the same while we return to wait in reception.

‘You can take Mick back to the farm,' I say to Lewis. ‘There's no need for both of us to be here.'

‘There's every need,' he responds. ‘I feel responsible. It was my dog . . .'

‘This isn't the time.' I sit with my legs, arms and fingers crossed, waiting for news, while Mick lies cuddled up on Lewis's knees. It's one of the longest waits of my life before Maz appears again.

‘How is she?' I say, jumping up.

‘She's holding her own. That's all I can say.'

‘Can I see her?'

‘You can see her in the morning. She's heavily sedated. She has a shaved area on her neck with stitches, a bandage around her ears, a chest drain because the bite wound to her chest has penetrated through the muscle, and the drip and transfusion still going in. She's on antibiotics too. Izzy is going to sit up with her through the night. If there's any alteration in her condition, the slightest change at all, we'll be in touch with you. Otherwise, ring at eight and we'll update you then.'

‘I'll drop you home,' Lewis says, coming over and touching my shoulder.

‘It's all right. It's just down the road.'

‘I don't like the idea of you being alone.'

‘I won't be. Gran will be there.' I could do with a hug, but not from Lewis right now. I don't blame him,
but he's tied up with what's happened to Frosty and I can't quite break through that. I want my gran.

‘Please, it's the least I can do.'

‘I'll walk,' I say firmly. At the word ‘walk', I fold up, distraught at the thought I might never walk Frosty again. I never thought I'd say this, but walking my troublesome dog is one of the best things in the world. When I'm holding her lead, she holds my heart.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Down to the River

Frosty's condition starts to improve during the next twenty-four hours and I'm not sure whether to be pleased or worried when I pick up a text from Maz on the way home from work.

Tried to call you. Can you pop into the surgery this evening, about 7? Maz

‘How is she?' I ask as soon as I'm shown through to the consulting room. ‘I spoke to Frances at reception, but she said I had to wait to see you.'

‘Not good, I'm afraid,' Maz says. ‘Her temperature is very high and the wound on her neck is starting to break down. I've sent a swab off to the lab and put her onto another antibiotic while we wait for the results.'

I clutch my throat. ‘So the worst has happened? She has an infection.'

Maz nods. ‘She's quite depressed and refuses to eat.'
There's a pause. ‘I thought it best that you came to see her.'

I know what she means. This is my chance to say goodbye.

‘Come with me.' As tears flood down my cheeks, Maz hands me a tissue from the box on the shelf, and takes me through to visit Frosty; she is in a cage under the stairs, lying on her belly and resting her head on her paws.

‘We thought she was better off out of the way of the racket in kennels. Hey, Frosty, look who's here to see you?' Maz smiles wryly. ‘I don't know why I talk to her all the time when I know full well she's deaf.'

‘I do it too.' Frosty raises her eyes, but doesn't wag her tail. ‘Is it all right to give her a treat?'

‘You can try. Izzy's been offering her all sorts, but she's turned her nose up at everything so far.'

‘I expect she's missing my gran's home cooking. I'll bring some in.'

‘I'm not overly optimistic, but it's worth a try. We'll be here until at least eight.'

I check my watch. ‘I'll go now. Gran had some lamb shanks in the fridge this morning.'

‘Don't expect too much, will you, Zara?'

‘I understand.' I need to do something, though, anything to keep busy, so I return to the practice with a small portion of lamb, gravy and mashed potato, and sit with Frosty. I offer her the dish, but she barely sniffs it.

‘Frosty, you have to eat,' I murmur.

‘Any interest?' Izzy asks, passing by with a pile of fresh laundry.

I shake my head. ‘She's going to die, isn't she?' I don't know how that makes me feel about Miley and Lewis.

‘No, she isn't. Here, give me that.' Balancing the laundry on one arm, Izzy reaches down for the dish and sticks her finger in it. ‘Let me give that a blitz in the microwave.'

When she comes back, I put the dish in front of Frosty. Nose twitching and ears cocked forwards, she lifts her head just high enough to reach over the rim of the bowl and lap at the gravy.

‘There you go,' Izzy says. ‘Who wants to eat their dinner cold?'

Frosty swallows a piece of lamb whole before deciding she's had enough.

‘That's a good start,' Izzy says.

‘Let's hope that's a turning point,' Maz says, joining us again.

‘I'll bring her a scrambled egg for breakfast – she loves that.'

‘While you're at it, you can provide Meals on Wheels for the rest of us,' Izzy smiles.

‘Thank you, both of you.'

‘She's looking brighter. Let's see what tomorrow brings,' Maz says.

I call Lewis on my way back home.

‘You should have let me know you were visiting her. I'd like to have come with you.'

I don't know how to respond. I don't want to hurt
his feelings by confessing that I wouldn't have wanted him there. I don't blame him personally for what Miley did. I'm afraid that when I see him again, I'll blame him by association, and I won't feel quite the same about him.

‘Give Frosty a big hug from me tomorrow.'

‘Will do,' I say. ‘Bye, Lewis.'

‘I missed my goodnight text last night.'

It is one of those conversations where there's more meaning in the silences than the words.