my thoughts, pushing the unnecessary ones away.
‘I see. So, what is it that you’re saying, exactly?’
‘I’m saying that I think both of us can spend our time more productively. So, it’s probably best if you left and attended to those other clients you mentioned before, all vying for your attention.’ Michael caught my eye and for once, couldn’t hold my gaze. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think there was a flash of remorse there. ‘I’m sorry for wasting your time,’ he mumbled.
I smoothed my skirt down. ‘No problem. I have to say though, I never had you down as a quitter. Plenty of other things, definitely. But a quitter wasn’t one of them.’
Michael turned and glared at me. ‘I am not a quitter. I’m a realist.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes. It’s so. And the realistic assessment of this…situation,’ he flapped his arm to encompass the mess that currently surrounded us, ‘is that however good you think you are, there is no way this place is going to be ready for Christmas. It’s a joke to even think that I was ever going to be able to have my family here.’
I watched him for a moment, his fists clenched, the muscles in his forearm taut as steel cables, a flicker at his jaw as he tried to contain whatever it was that had kicked off inside him. And I recognised it. The anger that hid something far more vulnerable. I’d also had a lot of practice at dealing with it.
‘Michael I’m sorry if you thought that I presumed to know more about your family than you. Obviously that’s not the case and it wasn’t what I meant. What I do know is that it’s important to them for all this to happen.’ I repeated his action of encompassing the mess around us, albeit in a calmer manner. ‘Not because they don’t want to host Christmas this year but because they care about you and this is the best way of getting it done. Being given a deadline is something you’re familiar with in your work. It’s how you work best. You even said something similar yourself the first time we met. I know it looks bad now, but it always does at this stage. And believe me, this really is nothing compared to some places.’ I leant and touched his knotted forearm, and he turned, his green eyes cool and shuttered. ‘Michael I know you want to be able to have your family here this Christmas – ’
‘Seems like you know an awful lot.’
I took a breath and ignored the jibe. Again, something else I’d had experience of.
‘I’m really good at my job and I have faith in you. Both of which mean that I’m confident we can achieve what we need to.’
He gave me a look under his lashes that hinted he still wasn’t entirely convinced.
OK, one more push.
‘Assuming, of course, you really aren’t a quitter.’
His head snapped up and I got a glare for my trouble. Which was fine. Because I knew I had him. I plopped back down on the floor.
‘Right. Now that’s sorted, you can get your backside down here and help me see what we’ve got.’
***
‘Morning Kate! Cold enough to freeze the brass ones off a monkey out there today!’ Head vet, Mark held the door for me as I attempted to struggle in with my load.
‘It certainly is. The snow’s just started again too.’
‘What have you got there? More goodies?’
‘Yes. Couple more blankets that I thought might be of use.’
‘Great! Another client or have you been treating these pooches out of your own pocket again?’
I grinned. ‘No. These were surplus to requirements at a client’s so I asked if I could take them to donate myself.’
We’d found piles of blankets in a cupboard at Michael’s house. Even with all those bedrooms, it was unlikely he’d ever need so many. Apparently the ex had really liked to shop.
‘The tags are still on these blankets! And they’re not cheap ones.’
‘I know. I suggested selling them but the client wasn’t interested. He just said to make sure they went to a good home, whatever I wanted. I couldn’t think of anywhere better than here.’
‘They’re much appreciated, as always. Thanks Kate.’
Mark took the items off me and headed off to put them in the supply store. I, meanwhile, set off to the kennels, grabbing a cleaning trolley on the way.
‘Hi Kate!’ Sara, another volunteer, smiled as I approached the kennel block. ‘How are you?’
‘Good thanks. Busy week?’
Sara was a day trader in the city and in her working life wore designer suits and traded in numbers with so many zeros it made my head spin. Not that you’d know it looking at her now. But the smile she wore said it all. She volunteered here to escape the stress and even though that included undesirable jobs like washing out kennels and other chores that few people would put high on their list of ‘things I like to do in my free time’, it was all part of it.
The other part of it was the animals. The centre mostly catered for dogs but they also took in the odd cat to help out other local shelters and had recently acquired two horses, a donkey and a Vietnamese Pot-bellied pig. These latest additions had been found in a barn after the owners moved, leaving no forwarding address. When John, the owner of the rescue centre, heard that there was the possibility of the horses being put down due to a lack of someone prepared to take them, he’d cleared an outbuilding and two days later had a comfy stable suitable for the animals to stay in. The pig also lived in there at the moment as it had delusions of grandeur and hadn’t quite yet figured out that it wasn’t actually a horse. But we were working on that.
‘How’s Bruno today?’ I came up to the kennel she was working on. It smelled clean and fresh from her efforts. A large Labrador was lounging on the dog bed with his head resting on the leg of her ripped jeans. His eyes were closing as she rhythmically stroked his ears.
‘Much better, thank goodness. He really seems to be settling. He’s eating quite well now too so John is hoping to be able to put him on the website in the next couple of days.’
‘Oh that’s great! It won’t be long before he finds a good home. Look at that face. How could anyone resist?’ Bruno was now making satisfied groany noises as Sara found a sweet spot under his chin.
‘I wish I could take him.’
I smiled, sadly. ‘That’s the worst bit, isn’t it? Falling in love.’
‘Depends on the circumstances.’ She looked up at me from under her lashes.
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Is there something I should know?’
Sara’s smile widened and she pulled her other hand out from under Bruno’s head, an action which he made no effort to facilitate. One eye opened as she stopped caressing his ears to pull her glove off. On her third finger was a stunning, not to mention enormous, diamond.
I grabbed her hand. ‘Oh my God! He asked? You said he’d never ask!’
