Welcome to Rosie Hopkins' Sweet Shop of Dreams
Page 15
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Rosie had never wished more fervently to see a Starbucks in her entire life.
‘Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks!’
Rivulets of rain had started to infiltrate the collar of her shirt and dribble down her back. There were droplets in her eyelashes. Her wellingtons might be keeping her feet dry, but stray raindrops were still finding their way inside and wetting her socks. Rosie wondered if it might be possible to drown. Didn’t cows drown if they looked at the sky or something?
She turned round. She had to guess a route, and it would have to be downhill. She’d come uphill, hadn’t she? Hopefully, she’d be going down the same hill … and not, for example, the other side of a different one, that led into a crevasse or a ravine.
Rosie realised she was shivering now. She couldn’t believe it had turned so very nasty so quickly.
Suddenly, in the distance, she caught sight of a set of headlights. Her heart leapt. She’d be saved! It must be the farmer! Maybe he’d caught sight of her out alone on the wild moors on a mad day and was coming to rescue her! And he’d take her back to his lovely farmhouse kitchen and his rosy-cheeked wife would have a plate of scones and … She put her hand out to wave down the car as it swept down the muddy lane. Dazzled by the lights, she couldn’t see who was at the wheel. The car, a dirty white Land Rover, failed to slow down, even as Rosie pushed herself further from the shelter of the trees to wave her hands wildly. For her trouble, the car spat out a fan of muddy water all over her jeans and down her wellies, and continued on its way. Rosie had an impression of an angry-looking face at the wheel.
‘You arse!’ she yelled after it. ‘You’ve left me here to die!!!’
At this, the brake lights of the car went on, briefly, and she thought it might be slowing down, that he’d had a rethink. But after a couple of seconds they went off again, and the car continued on its way down the hill, the opposite road to the one Rosie had been about to take.
‘Karma is going to totally bite you,’ she screamed. She was so wet now, it didn’t really matter at all. She marched out into the middle of the road.
‘I hope toads eat through your electrical wiring and a badger gets in your bed. A toe-eating badger. And that your car suddenly explodes for no reason. Without you in it because I am a good person unlike you, you monster. But with all your stuff in it, like your camera and your computer, but when you ring your insurance company they don’t believe you because you are so obviously a nobber. In a Land Rover.’
Rosie was so absorbed in bringing down curses on the head of the vanished driver, she hardly noticed when two lights appeared behind her, and another Land Rover skittered to a sudden, horrified stop.
A late-middle-aged, very tall woman alighted.
‘What the hell are you doing in the middle of my road?’ she shouted.
Rosie wiped the rain out of her eyes, and lowered the fist she suddenly realised had been angrily raised.
‘Uhm … well, I got lost.’
‘Where are your clothes?’ barked the woman, who was wearing a Barbour jacket and an enormous deerstalker hat. Her wellies were dark green and had a rubber tie at the top, Rosie noticed. No flowers at all.
‘Uhm, I got wet.’
‘You’re going to get hypothermia in about a second. Where are you going?’
‘Lipton.’
‘Well, you’re facing completely the wrong way … get out of my road!’
Rosie jumped to one side, completely intimidated.
The woman hurried back to the car, then looked up again. ‘You’re not … you’re not a vet by any chance?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘No.’
‘No, of course not, what was I thinking, look at what you’re wearing …’ The woman shook her head. Rosie finally realised she was extremely distressed.
‘Why, what’s the matter?’
‘Bloody … bloody vet’s an hour away operating on a horse in the next valley. I’ll need to get to the next town over … It’s my dog …’
Rosie peered into the back of the Land Rover, then clapped her hand to her mouth. Staring at her with wide, unblinking, terrified eyes was a large golden retriever. That wasn’t what caught her eye though. Sticking out of his abdomen – grotesquely, spreadeagling his paws away from it – was a huge coil of barbed wire.
‘Christ,’ said Rosie.
‘Quite,’ said the woman. ‘So, if you could get out of my road and out of my way—’
Rosie shook her head. ‘How far is the next town?’
‘Forty miles.’
‘That’ll take too long,’ she said.
‘I know,’ said the woman. ‘That’s why we’re following the doctor. But I don’t know if he can manage on his own.’
‘The doctor?’
‘Do you have any better ideas?’
Rosie shook her head. The idea of a doctor trying to help the poor beast in the back … It was crazy. On the other hand, she definitely, definitely needed a lift back into town.
‘Uhm, I’m a nursing auxiliary,’ she said quickly, not stressing the ‘auxiliary’ part.
‘You’re a nurse?’
‘Auxiliary,’ said Rosie, quietly. The rain showed no sign of letting up. But she had held down heavy patients before, helped with catheters, held paws … well, hands.
‘I might be able to help,’ she said.
The woman revved the engine.
‘Get in then,’ she said brusquely, and took off with a squelch of brakes in the mud before Rosie had even closed the door.
Rosie patted the dog’s head. ‘There, there. You’re going to be all right. I just need to wash my hands, then we’ll make you feel all better, yes?’
The dog whined slightly in response, his eyes glassy, which worried Rosie. She knew it was better when patients were bolshy; it meant they still had a bit of fight left in them.
‘Hurry up,’ she said, but the woman in front was already driving through the rain like a maniac.
Back in the village, which turned out to be over a completely different hill from the one Rosie would have expected, the sky was dark and the streets were empty. The practice was locked up – there obviously wasn’t a surgery every day, and it had been closed that morning when Rosie passed by – but the white Land Rover that had sprayed her earlier was parked haphazardly up alongside the building, and a side door was open. It was peculiar, the surgery had obviously at one time been a rather grand house, and still had a fully laid-out garden, including a shed.
‘Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks!’
Rivulets of rain had started to infiltrate the collar of her shirt and dribble down her back. There were droplets in her eyelashes. Her wellingtons might be keeping her feet dry, but stray raindrops were still finding their way inside and wetting her socks. Rosie wondered if it might be possible to drown. Didn’t cows drown if they looked at the sky or something?
She turned round. She had to guess a route, and it would have to be downhill. She’d come uphill, hadn’t she? Hopefully, she’d be going down the same hill … and not, for example, the other side of a different one, that led into a crevasse or a ravine.
Rosie realised she was shivering now. She couldn’t believe it had turned so very nasty so quickly.
Suddenly, in the distance, she caught sight of a set of headlights. Her heart leapt. She’d be saved! It must be the farmer! Maybe he’d caught sight of her out alone on the wild moors on a mad day and was coming to rescue her! And he’d take her back to his lovely farmhouse kitchen and his rosy-cheeked wife would have a plate of scones and … She put her hand out to wave down the car as it swept down the muddy lane. Dazzled by the lights, she couldn’t see who was at the wheel. The car, a dirty white Land Rover, failed to slow down, even as Rosie pushed herself further from the shelter of the trees to wave her hands wildly. For her trouble, the car spat out a fan of muddy water all over her jeans and down her wellies, and continued on its way. Rosie had an impression of an angry-looking face at the wheel.
‘You arse!’ she yelled after it. ‘You’ve left me here to die!!!’
At this, the brake lights of the car went on, briefly, and she thought it might be slowing down, that he’d had a rethink. But after a couple of seconds they went off again, and the car continued on its way down the hill, the opposite road to the one Rosie had been about to take.
‘Karma is going to totally bite you,’ she screamed. She was so wet now, it didn’t really matter at all. She marched out into the middle of the road.
‘I hope toads eat through your electrical wiring and a badger gets in your bed. A toe-eating badger. And that your car suddenly explodes for no reason. Without you in it because I am a good person unlike you, you monster. But with all your stuff in it, like your camera and your computer, but when you ring your insurance company they don’t believe you because you are so obviously a nobber. In a Land Rover.’
Rosie was so absorbed in bringing down curses on the head of the vanished driver, she hardly noticed when two lights appeared behind her, and another Land Rover skittered to a sudden, horrified stop.
A late-middle-aged, very tall woman alighted.
‘What the hell are you doing in the middle of my road?’ she shouted.
Rosie wiped the rain out of her eyes, and lowered the fist she suddenly realised had been angrily raised.
‘Uhm … well, I got lost.’
‘Where are your clothes?’ barked the woman, who was wearing a Barbour jacket and an enormous deerstalker hat. Her wellies were dark green and had a rubber tie at the top, Rosie noticed. No flowers at all.
‘Uhm, I got wet.’
‘You’re going to get hypothermia in about a second. Where are you going?’
‘Lipton.’
‘Well, you’re facing completely the wrong way … get out of my road!’
Rosie jumped to one side, completely intimidated.
The woman hurried back to the car, then looked up again. ‘You’re not … you’re not a vet by any chance?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘No.’
‘No, of course not, what was I thinking, look at what you’re wearing …’ The woman shook her head. Rosie finally realised she was extremely distressed.
‘Why, what’s the matter?’
‘Bloody … bloody vet’s an hour away operating on a horse in the next valley. I’ll need to get to the next town over … It’s my dog …’
Rosie peered into the back of the Land Rover, then clapped her hand to her mouth. Staring at her with wide, unblinking, terrified eyes was a large golden retriever. That wasn’t what caught her eye though. Sticking out of his abdomen – grotesquely, spreadeagling his paws away from it – was a huge coil of barbed wire.
‘Christ,’ said Rosie.
‘Quite,’ said the woman. ‘So, if you could get out of my road and out of my way—’
Rosie shook her head. ‘How far is the next town?’
‘Forty miles.’
‘That’ll take too long,’ she said.
‘I know,’ said the woman. ‘That’s why we’re following the doctor. But I don’t know if he can manage on his own.’
‘The doctor?’
‘Do you have any better ideas?’
Rosie shook her head. The idea of a doctor trying to help the poor beast in the back … It was crazy. On the other hand, she definitely, definitely needed a lift back into town.
‘Uhm, I’m a nursing auxiliary,’ she said quickly, not stressing the ‘auxiliary’ part.
‘You’re a nurse?’
‘Auxiliary,’ said Rosie, quietly. The rain showed no sign of letting up. But she had held down heavy patients before, helped with catheters, held paws … well, hands.
‘I might be able to help,’ she said.
The woman revved the engine.
‘Get in then,’ she said brusquely, and took off with a squelch of brakes in the mud before Rosie had even closed the door.
Rosie patted the dog’s head. ‘There, there. You’re going to be all right. I just need to wash my hands, then we’ll make you feel all better, yes?’
The dog whined slightly in response, his eyes glassy, which worried Rosie. She knew it was better when patients were bolshy; it meant they still had a bit of fight left in them.
‘Hurry up,’ she said, but the woman in front was already driving through the rain like a maniac.
Back in the village, which turned out to be over a completely different hill from the one Rosie would have expected, the sky was dark and the streets were empty. The practice was locked up – there obviously wasn’t a surgery every day, and it had been closed that morning when Rosie passed by – but the white Land Rover that had sprayed her earlier was parked haphazardly up alongside the building, and a side door was open. It was peculiar, the surgery had obviously at one time been a rather grand house, and still had a fully laid-out garden, including a shed.
