Part 27 (1/2)

I seized Rococo's paw and felt just above it. 'Here?'

'I very much doubt it, Lucy,' he growled, wiping his mouth in disgust. 'Try her chest. Yuk! I think I'm going to be sick. Christ, I'm not doing that again, not for you, not for anyone!'

'Here, I've got her heart it's beating! She's still alive, Charlie, she's still alive!'

'Well, Halle-bleeding-lujah'

'Hold her more upright, Charlie, that's it, that's great. She obviously likes that, yes she likes you! Look, she's smiling, opening her eyes!'

'Terrific'

'Just hold on to her, Charlie, she's coming round'

'You know,' he gasped, wincing under her weight, 'if you'd asked me this morning, I'd have said it was an odds-on certainty that by this time today I'd be lying beside a beautiful blonde with the most fabulous figure, a gla.s.s of Merlot in my hand. Instead of which, I'm sitting here in the appropriately named doggy position, with a b.i.t.c.h called Rococo, who I've d.a.m.n nearly had s.e.x with.'

'Rubbish,' I scoffed, 'you saved her life'

'Yes, but life-saving isn't quite what I had in mind for this afternoon. I've had more physical contact with her than I've ever had with you. Certainly more foreplay and oh Jesus Christ, she's pa.s.sing out again!' Rococo's head flopped dangerously.

'The vet,' I said, standing up decisively. 'This is no good, we must get her to the vet.'

'Yes, G.o.d yes!' he groaned. 'Staggeringly good idea, best you've had all day. Why didn't you say that before I had to snog her?'

'And you can take her,' I went on determinedly, 'because I can't leave the shop. I'll ring and say you're coming. Come on, Charlie, let's get her in the car.'

Between us we lugged, dragged, and carried Rococo down the stairs - eyes rolling, tongue hanging, paws flailing - and out, into the drive, to the car, which luckily, was a convertible. We hauled her into the back seat, mouth foaming, all over the pale beige leather interior. Charlie winced.

'Drive fast,' I urged. 'And when you get to the surgery, beep your horn loudly and someone will come and help you.'

'How d'you know?' he wailed. 'How d'you know I won't be left with a dead horse-dog in the back of my car!'

'Of course you won't,' I soothed, 'because I'll ring and ask them to come out. Now don't worry, Charlie, just go - go!'

Something of the urgency in my voice galvanised him and he got resignedly into the driver's seat. He buzzed down the window.

'It must be love,' he said bitterly. 'There is literally n.o.body, no other woman on the face of this earth, I would do this for.'

'I think it's love too,' I whispered, leaning in and kissing him warmly on the mouth. 'And I think you're a lovely, lovely man. Now go!'

With a deep sigh, he pulled off, and I dashed back inside to call the vet. I also called Kit, on his mobile, and gave him the bad news, but not too melodramatically, and I told him not to worry and rush back, because Charlie was quite happy to stay with Rococo at the vet's, and I was quite capable of holding the fort here.

'But she's all right?' he asked anxiously. 'I mean, you think she'll recover?'

'I'm positive she will,' I said, crossing my fingers hard. 'And Kit, Charlie was amazing. He saved her life,- I'm sure.'

He didn't stop to ask what the devil Charlie was doing at his shop in the first place, but I think he probably guessed, and I made a mental note to smooth down the bedspread in the Tudor room, before his return.

An hour or so later, Charlie rang me. Rococo was coming round, and was 'comfortable' now, apparently. She had indeed had a reaction to the insulin, and they were going to re-jig it. Apparently her rather nervous disposition had been a contributing factor to her flaking out like that, too.

'Her nervous disposition,' he said bitterly. 'I tell you, my nerves are shot to bits. I can't take any more of this coitus interruptus, Lucy, I'm too old for all this. It's got to be a good old-fas.h.i.+oned dirty weekend in a cosy country hotel, with no-sick children, no dogs, no broom cupboards, and no Tudor Queens. Just you, me, and a locked door, in a delicious little eyrie somewhere, with a bathroom en suite, and no distractions, so I can ravish you to my heart's content. What d'you say?'

I giggled, but hesitated. 'A whole weekend might be a bit tricky, Charlie. The boys, you know.'

'But a night?' he persisted.

'A night,' I agreed, 'would be very acceptable.' I imagined a cosy old pub, by a mill-stream perhaps; a drink in the bar, huge log fire burning, holding hands together in the inglenook; then a table for two in the tiny, candlelit restaurant, faces glowing, senses heightened, then later on, full of wine and love, off up the rickety staircase to a cosy feather bed, beams over our head, owls calling quaintly in the dark outside, wrapped in each other's arms, away from the world and its prying eyes ...

'Ooh yes,' I breathed. 'In fact, it would be more than acceptable. It would be downright perfect.'

'Right,' he warned dangerously. 'You're on. I'll book it this very minute. I know just the place. Oh Lucy my love, I long for you, I want to explore and ravish you. I seem to be cursed with the most terrible potency. I shall go pop if I don't get to grips with your delicious personage soon!'

I giggled and bade him desist from popping, then put down the phone, my heart exulting, pounding with joy. It did occur to me to wonder, though, if at some stage he'd like to explore my intellect and relish my mind, as well as my body. But no matter. Our delicious tryst was on, and there was plenty of time for all that getting to know each other stuff later, wasn't there? Humming away happily I tidied up Kit's desk, lined up the receipts with the pads and pencils, and told myself I was just being picky.

Chapter Twenty.

Kit didn't get back until quite late. Having called in at the vet's and agreed that Rococo should stay in overnight, he finally walked through the door at about seven o'clock. I'd dithered about staying on. I was only supposed to stay until six, but decided, under the circ.u.mstances, that I'd better wait to hand over the keys and give him a de-brief on the day, rather than just abandon s.h.i.+p and leave him to find an empty - house.

'You were right,' he said, flopping wearily into a sofa. He looked tired and dishevelled. 'It was a reaction to the insulin. Too much, they think, and too often, but they're going to test her over the next couple of days and let me know. Thank G.o.d you were here, Lucy. I can't imagine what would have happened with Mich.e.l.le at the helm. This is exactly what I mean, why I need someone responsible.'

I cringed, recalling my fairly irresponsible exploits upstairs. I scuffed my toe on the woodblock floor.

'Er, well, you do know Charlie popped round, I suppose?' I muttered. 'I hope you don't mind, Kit.' I glanced up fearfully. 'Mind? Good grief, why would I mind? Of course I don't. It seems he might have saved Rococo's life, and anyway, I'm delighted if your friends pop in, makes it much less boring for you. I mean, it's not as if you're a teenager, sneaking your scruffy boyfriend in for a quick one on my sofa! I had my suspicions about Mich.e.l.le, I can tell you.'

I cringed a bit more and stared at the floor. Crikey. But then of course, Kit wouldn't suspect a thing, would he? Charlie was married, and I was a responsible widow, a mother of two. So what the h.e.l.l was I up too, then? Not for the first time, a wave of shame washed over me, but before it threatened to engulf me, Kit interrupted my thoughts.

'No takers, then?'

'Sorry?' I came to.

'I mean, were there any punters at all, or was it a totally disastrous day all round?'

'Er, well, no, not totally disastrous. Two elderly women came in this afternoon.'

'Really?' He sat up a bit. Seemed inordinately excited by this.

'Yes, but they didn't buy,' I added hastily. 'But then a couple did come in, just now, before you got back, and were quite interested in the walnut lowboy.'

'Excellent!' His eyes shone.

'Yes, thought it was absolutely stunning, and went away to think about it.' I lied a bit here. They'd actually given it a cursory glance and asked for directions to the M4, but Kit seemed so thrilled I over-egged it.

'And any calls?'

'Yep, two. Both from Americans. One, a decorator in London who said you'd know what it was about. Said he'd gota slight problem vis-a-vis the provenance of some silver you sold him recently.' What he'd actually said was that if it was Georgian, he was a Chinaman.

'Stupid prat. Doesn't recognise a Georgian hallmark when it smacks him in the face. And the other?'