Dr Blake's Angel

‘I went exploring and caught Bob and Henry before they left the hospital.’

He thought that one through. Bob and Henry. He only knew the one Bob and Henry pair. ‘The ambulance drivers?’

‘I know them both from way back,’ she told him. ‘They weren’t ambulance drivers in my day. In fact, I went to school with Bob, and when I showed him the conditions we were expected to live in he was shocked. Both of them were.’

‘He’s given you this stuff?’ Blake’s voice was unbelieving, and Nell giggled.

‘No, silly. It’s from my house.’

‘Your house.’

‘I told you,’ she said patiently. ‘I own a house out on the bluff. It’s ancient, it hasn’t been used for years but it’s full of extremely good stuff. Like this.’ She patted her sofa fondly. ‘I knew it’d be comfortable. I was never allowed to sit on it when I was a kid but, oh, how I wanted to.’

He was distracted—almost—but there were burning questions. ‘How the hell did you get this stuff back here?’

‘The ambulance, of course,’ she said blithely. ‘How else?’

‘You used the ambulance to transport furniture?’ He was gearing himself up to explode.

‘If I hadn’t then I’d have needed the ambulance tomorrow to cart me away for major back repair.’ Her tone was innocence personified. ‘It was a case of preventative medicine, and I’m really good at that. I was determined to get it here, and my little sedan only has a very tiny roof-rack. Anyway, once I explained the situation to Henry and Bob they were only too pleased to help.’ She smiled up at Blake. ‘So we took the stretchers out of the ambulance and went for it. It took us five trips and we’ve only just finished.’

‘And if there’d been an urgent call?’

‘Then they’d have heaved the furniture out and got on with it,’ she told him. ‘Honestly—do you think we’re negligent or something?’

He thought no such thing. He didn’t know what to think. He walked over and sank down into one of the chairs—and promptly stood up again.

One of the cushions had moved! Now it rose, shoving itself to four feet, and it glared at him. What the…?

But Nell was smiling. ‘Um…meet Ernest. Dr Sutherland, Ernest. Ernest, meet Dr Sutherland.’

‘Ernest.’

Who was Ernest? He’d just found out. Blake found himself looking at the most mournful, pathetic bag of bones he’d ever come across in the doggy kingdom. The ancient cocker spaniel, his black and white coat faded with age into indiscriminate grey, was all jowls and floppy ears and huge mournful eyes. He looked up at Blake as if he’d just wounded him to the core.

‘Hey, I didn’t sit on you,’ Blake said before he could help himself. ‘I nearly did but I didn’t.’

The eyes still reproached him.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’

‘Take no notice of him,’ Nell said blithely. ‘Ernest’s greatest skill in life is making people feel guilty, whether they deserve it or not.’

‘He does a great job.’

‘He does.’ Nell grinned. ‘I adopted him because he looked so pathetic. It’s his principal talent and he’s really very good.’ She rose and crossed to give her dog a hug. ‘I’ve had him for five months now. It’s been a guilt trip all the way, yet still I love him.’

Blake was still taking things on board. ‘This is the Ernest that’s going to take up the third bedroom?’

‘Well, I’m not going to sleep with him,’ Nell said, horrified. ‘He snores.’

Blake looked down at the ancient Ernest and he grinned.

‘He looks like the sort of dog who’d snore.’

He got a really, really reproachful canine glare for his pains.

‘Ernest’s very sensitive,’ Nell warned. ‘You might find you have to pay for that remark.’

‘He doesn’t bite?’

‘Bite?’ Nell shook her head in disbelief. She crossed to the little kitchenette and opened the oven door. ‘That requires energy. No, Ernest’s principal way of punishing people is by ignoring them.’

‘I can live with that.’

‘You’ll find you can’t,’ she warned him. ‘It’s very effective. He sort of embellishes his ignoring routine in all sorts of fancy ways. You’ll see. Now… Dinner?’

Ernest was promptly forgotten. ‘Dinner!’

‘You haven’t eaten?’ She turned back to face him. ‘I didn’t see how you could have.’

‘No, but—’

‘Then there’s dinner,’ she told him as if he were stupid. ‘I ate hours ago but I saved half the casserole for you. It’s apricot chicken. Very basic but it is my first night. We stopped off at the all-nighter on our first furniture run so I could throw this together while the boys heaved sofas.’ And then she grinned. ‘I imagine it’s set the town talking. An ambulance parked outside the minimart with a sofa sticking out the back.’

He imagined it might have. He should be angry. But there was apricot chicken casserole. His nose was giving him all sorts of messages, and every one of them was urgent.

And it was sort of funny…

‘I don’t approve,’ he managed, and Nell nodded.

‘Of course you don’t. You’re a very responsible doctor. I can see that. So you don’t approve of ambulances filled with sofas, buying chicken drumsticks and cans of apricots. But you will still eat my casserole?’

He was trying hard not to laugh. For heaven’s sake, she was ridiculous. ‘I might.’

‘Ernest will if you don’t,’ she said cheerfully, and Blake turned and glowered at the dog. Ernest glowered back.

But this was a dog after all. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ Blake told him. ‘Not even the scraps.’

‘He’s already eaten,’ Nell said.

‘Chicken casserole?’

‘Dog food. The ambulance and sofa brought that, too. But he’s not fussy and he’s always up for second helpings.’

‘I imagine he might be. That’s quite some paunch.’

‘Now you really are getting personal.’ She scooped the casserole onto a plate and set it down on her gorgeous table. The whole room came together. The aroma of the delicious casserole. The furniture. The dog. The brilliantly dressed woman, heavily pregnant, ladling out food…