The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (27 page)

BOOK: The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan
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‘I’ll need a washing-soda crystal,’ Wes told the nurse.

Both he and the nurse left the room and Julie was briefly left alone with Boris.

‘Please don’t die,’ she whispered to the shivering puppy on the table. ‘I can’t lose anyone else this year. Please don’t die.’

The
nurse returned with the treatment, closely followed by Wes. Julie hugged her arms around herself as she watched the vet force the washing-soda crystal into Boris’ mouth.

‘Hopefully this will make him vomit up the rest of it,’ Wes told her. ‘Do you want to wait in reception?’

Julie shook her head. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she told him in a tremulous voice.

She watched as the poor dog was sick
and then sick again. It was all her fault, she kept thinking. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid.

Once they were sure that his stomach was empty, Boris was given a form of charcoal to ease his intestines. He was also attached to an intravenous drip, to steady his heart rate and give him much-needed fluids.

All the time that she could, without getting in the vet’s way, Julie stroked
Boris’ front paw.

‘You’ll be okay,’ she told him softly, over and over again.

Eventually, once the dog was settled, Wes found her a seat so she could sit next to the dog, and the nurse produced a cup of tea. Julie found the mug shook in her hand as she took a sip.

Wes crouched down in front of her.

‘Will he live?’ she asked, the tears beginning to run down her cheeks.

‘It’s possible,’ he
told her in a gentle tone. ‘There wasn’t much time between him eating the chocolate and you finding him. That gives him a better chance.’

‘What kind of chance are we talking about?’ asked Julie. ‘Tell me the odds.’

He rested one large hand over hers. ‘It’s a fifty-fifty survival rate in most cases of chocolate poisoning. Especially if he’s eaten a lot.’

Julie suppressed a sob.

‘It’s a waiting
game now,’ Wes told her, squeezing her hand. ‘There’s not much you can do. We’ll get him transferred to the recovery room for now.’

Left alone for a brief minute, Julie leant forward in her chair, stroking Boris’ soft silky head.

‘I’m sorry,’ she told him, the tears spilling from her eyes once more. ‘I don’t mean to snap at you all the time. You’re not a bad dog. I’m just not used to you, that’s
all. Just get well and I’ll be better, I promise. Please don’t leave me.’

She brought her lips down on to his head and gave him a soft kiss.

‘I love you,’ she whispered, just before the door opened.

‘Julie?’ said Wes. ‘We’ve got to move him now.’

She nodded, unable to speak.

‘I’ll ring you tonight, okay?’ he told her, briefly putting one arm around her shoulder. ‘If there’s any change, I’ll
ring you as soon as possible.’

Julie picked up her handbag before giving Boris one last look. Then she left in tears.

Chapter Fifty-eight

SAMANTHA WAS VERY
unimpressed when Charley rang to cancel the double date for the following night.

‘Why the hell can’t you come?’ she snapped.

‘Julie needs me,’ Charley told her. ‘She’s distraught.’

‘It’s only a dog, for God’s sake,’ said Samantha.

‘Well, he means a lot to Julie,’ said Charley sharply in reply.

Samantha put the phone down in a huff.

She needed to go out
with Richard, had to. They had just about recovered from their argument before his holiday but it was important to keep going, to start pushing for him to get rid of the old ball and chain.

The fun relationship, the brief flirtation she had envisaged, had long since disappeared. Now it was love. Wretched, awful, undeniable love.

But there was hope.

The previous week, Richard had promised he
would leave his wife.

‘When the time is right,’ he had quickly added.

‘Of course,’ said Samantha, nodding.

It was going to happen. Of that she was certain.

‘Poor Boris,’ said Caroline, near to tears on hearing the news after Charley called her.

‘He’ll be okay,’ replied her friend, not sounding at all positive.

‘Of course he will,’ sniffed Caroline.

Poor Julie, she thought as she put down
the phone.

Flora would be distraught as well if anything happened to the puppy. It had even made Caroline think about getting a dog but she had decided to wait. There was too much else going on. Flora had to concentrate on her schoolwork, and Jeff was hardly ever around to help out with a young puppy. Let alone the cost of the pedigree breed that Caroline wanted.

Money was becoming a pressing
issue. She would have to see to the invoice for the next school term, especially as a charming but more insistent reminder letter had appeared the previous day in the post.

Then there was Flora’s birthday at the end of the month. Her presents wouldn’t be cheap and there was the added stress of the birthday party to arrange. Children’s parties had gone stratospheric in cost, especially at the
private schools. It was one-upmanship gone mad.

Caroline rubbed her forehead. Yet another headache was beginning.

Julie had told Charley she was fine and didn’t need any company. But upon finding Charley’s clapped out Mini in the driveway once she was home, she rushed inside the house.

‘It’s all my fault,’ she sobbed, falling into Charley’s hug.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Charley, squeezing her
tight. ‘It was an accident.’

‘I shouldn’t have left the door open. He must have seen the chocolate and grabbed it.’

‘He’s a dog!’ Charley told her. ‘He’ll take any food that’s going! It wasn’t your fault.’

‘What if he dies?’ whispered Julie. ‘What will I do?’

‘He won’t,’ replied Charley in a firm tone. ‘Now, let’s get the kettle on. Or have you got something stronger?’

In the end, Charley
made Irish coffee for them both. And then they waited.

‘Did I tell you I’ve shut the shop for good?’ she said. ‘Not much business about now we’re into autumn. Remind me to give you the key back.’

Julie didn’t reply, merely hugging her coffee closer.

And so Charley went prattling on about this and that. Anything to fill the void as they waited for news.

Finally, after what seemed like the longest
two hours in history, Julie’s mobile rang.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s Wes,’ said the vet. ‘The recovery is going well. I’ll keep a close eye on Boris overnight but I think he’s going to be fine.’

Julie was near to tears again as relief swept over her. ‘Thank you,’ were the only words she was able to muster.

‘I’ll ring you first thing in the morning. Try and get a good night’s sleep.’

She put down the
phone and broke into a watery smile as she told Charley, ‘The vet thinks he’s going to be okay.’

‘Thank God,’ said Charley. ‘Do you want me to stay the night?’

Julie shook her head. ‘I should be fine.’

But she wasn’t. The house seemed very empty without Boris. Everywhere she looked there were his toys, his bed, his bowls, and the odd half-chewed shoe. The house seemed too quiet without his
snuffling, scratching and constant movement. Julie’s house wasn’t a home without her dog.

Her phone rang again that evening. She had a sudden moment of fright, thinking it was Wes to say Boris had taken a turn for the worse.

But it was a man replying to the advert, wanting to arrange a viewing time the following evening.

‘I’m sorry,’ replied Julie, her voice still a little shaky. ‘The dog is
no longer for sale.’

Chapter Fifty-nine

TWO DAYS LATER,
Julie went to the vet’s after work to pick up Boris. The nurse brought him through from the recovery room and he was straining at the lead to get to Julie. He sat on her feet, tail thumping in excitement to see her. Julie couldn’t stop herself from bending down to give him a hug before roughing up his fur.

‘You soppy thing,’ she told him. ‘Shall we go home?’

She paid the bill with the last of her savings and thanked the staff. She was told Wes was on an emergency call out, but the receptionist said she would pass on Julie’s thanks.

Under strict instructions to keep Boris quiet over the next few days, Julie wandered around the house with him that evening whilst he explored the place. He had a lost a little weight and was very clingy. Eventually he
sat on her feet, staring up at her.

‘Come on then,’ she said softly, lifting him up on to the sofa next to her. The puppy snuggled into her side; one soft ear flopped onto her leg.

Finally, she fell asleep with Boris beside her.

On Saturday morning, Charley and Caroline popped in to see how the puppy was.

‘He’s great, aren’t you, Gorgeous?’ cooed Julie, stroking Boris’ head.

The other women
exchanged looks.

‘I’m worried that she’s changed into a completely different person,’ whispered Caroline.

‘Yeah,’ replied Charley. ‘A doggy person.’

They watched Julie fuss over Boris, and exchanged smiles.

‘So,’ said Charley. ‘Are you all set for Flora’s birthday?’

‘No,’ replied Caroline, sounding stressed. ‘It’s bad enough she was born on the thirty-first of October. Now she wants a Hallowe’en-themed
party.’

‘Well, the stuff’s cheap enough in the shops,’ Charley told her.

Caroline took a sip of water.

‘You okay?’ asked Julie, who had been watching her.

‘Been better,’ replied Caroline. ‘It’s all so stressful, trying to think up something original for the party. Like the cake, for instance.’ She closed her eyes for a brief second before opening them wide. ‘You know what? I think Charley
should do it. In ice-cream form!’

‘I can’t,’ said Charley, aghast.

‘It’s perfect,’ said Julie, suddenly looking excited. ‘An ice-cream cake! It’s definitely original.’

‘But still perfect for kids,’ carried on Caroline.

‘And you’ll know where all the ingredients have come from,’ said Julie.

‘Great!’ said Caroline, breaking into a smile. ‘That’s sorted.’

‘Hold on,’ Charley said. ‘I haven’t
said I’ll do it yet.’

‘What about this in ice-cream?’ said Julie, who had grabbed a magazine to flick through for ideas.

‘No,’ said Caroline. ‘It’ll never survive the car journey. What about this?’

‘Hello!’ called Charley. ‘Do I get any say in this?’

The women looked at each other before looking back at her.

‘No,’ they replied in unison before continuing to ignore her.

Charley gave up and
began to stroke Boris’ back. This was a bad idea, was her first thought. Why not? was her second. She enjoyed making ice-cream. Kids plus ice-cream was always a good combination.

Julie rang her the following day. ‘I’ve thought of just the right place for inspiration,’ she said.

An hour later, Charley was in hell. The tannoy in Toys R Us blared out, fighting to be heard above the chiming, crashing
and crying hordes around them.

Charley clutched her aching head. ‘Why are you torturing me like this?’

Julie was rifling through a large bin of hats. ‘Because we’re friends and Caroline is drowning under all this party stuff.’

She lifted out a small witch’s hat with wiry green hair attached on the inside. She rammed it down over her head. The hat stayed there for a whole second before popping
off into a nearby display of Dracula teeth.

‘Hmm. Maybe not.’

She drew out a larger hat and put it on. It was so large it covered her whole face down to her chin.

‘I prefer that one,’ Charley told her.

Julie threw the hat back into the box and continued to rifle around. She pulled out two more and threw one at Charley. ‘There’s yours. All the helpers are dressing up.’

‘You’ve got to be joking?’

‘You promised.’

Charley blew out a long sigh. ‘I thought I was just making the cake, which I didn’t have any choice about.’

‘Flora will be heartbroken if you don’t come.’ Julie put on her most pitiful look. ‘It’s only one afternoon in the village hall. There are hardly any adults available. You can’t leave Caroline to cope with all that on her own.’

‘What about Samantha?’ said Charley.

‘Oh,
yeah,’ drawled Julie in reply. ‘She’s not exactly a children lover, is she? Do you know, she never even called me to see how Boris was?’

‘I think she’s still in a strop with me about cancelling that double date.’

Julie pulled a face. ‘Sorry. That was my fault.’

Charley shrugged her shoulders. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

She shoved a hat on to her head and checked her reflection in a nearby mirror.

‘Don’t hate me but that really suits you,’ said Julie, who was watching her. ‘You should hear my idea for a costume.’

‘Mine’s going to have to be black jeans, a black top and this stupid witch’s hat.’

‘That’s the spirit.’

They paid for their goods and left the air-conditioning for the October wind outside. The sun was out but the warmth had gone from its rays. Autumn was here and the heat of
the summer seemed an eternity ago.

Chapter Sixty


ALL YOU HAVE
to do is come up with something creative for Flora’s birthday cake,’ Caroline had told her.

Trouble was, thought Charley, she wasn’t feeling a creative vibe at all, especially having spent the day inhaling fumes from the limescale-remover spray that one of her customers insisted she used.

She slumped in her armchair, thinking about the Hallowe’en theme. She wondered
about buying a big pumpkin and carving a face on the front. That was all very well but what would she do with the ice-cream? Fill it to the brim and let the kids scoop it out with their hands? Not very hygienic or practical.

She glanced at her watch. It was nearly four o’clock. The market would be finishing soon. She leapt out of her chair and grabbed her jacket on the way out. Perhaps she would
find inspiration wandering around the stalls.

The leaves had already begun to turn on the trees, giving everything a golden hue in the late-afternoon sun. The wind was whistling around the car park so Charley hugged her jacket close as she mooched around the stalls. The bright colours of the summer fruits had gone, to be replaced by earthy vegetables such as carrots, parsnips and turnips.

BOOK: The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan
5.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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