‘Maman thought it was a bombing raid,’ Ronnie said. ‘I must say, Rusty shook with terror every time a banger exploded.’
‘If only the owners would keep their animals in on Guy Fawkes night,’ Mr Lincoln said. He listened to Oscar’s heart, then looked up. ‘He’s gone.’
Ronnie bit down hard on her lip. She mustn’t cry. It wouldn’t bring Oscar back.
‘This war is having such bad consequences on the animal kingdom. I would have taken the little fellow home with me if I hadn’t already taken in two poor little blighters in the last three months. And I tried for a week to find a home for this one.’
‘I know you did your best,’ Ronnie said, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gazed down at the young dog, now perfectly still.
The vet gently picked him up. ‘Let me just take Oscar next door.’
He was back in moments and went to the sink to wash his hands. He turned to her, drying his hands on the nearby roller towel.
‘You have a real way with animals, Ronnie, the way you comfort the animals when they’re in distress. So I have a proposition for you. How about you coming to work for me as my full-time assistant? I’d train you with the idea of putting you forward to take an exam to obtain a proper veterinary nursing qualification.’
Ronnie startled. This was totally unexpected. A proper job with a certificate at the end. One that even Maman might approve of. And she liked and trusted Mr Lincoln. He was a pleasure to work with and she loved his wry humour. She wanted to say yes immediately. She would have jumped at the chance if they weren’t in the middle of this blasted war. But was she being weak? She always prided herself on being a strong person who didn’t turn away from something unpalatable. Then she thought of Oscar. She knew she wouldn’t be able to face the needless destruction of animals day after day as a result of the strict food rationing. But it would be even worse for the animals if there weren’t kind vets like Mr Lincoln who carried out the senseless deed with tender-hearted feeling. Thank goodness he hadn’t ever turned his back.
‘What do you think, Ronnie? Does it appeal?’
‘Yes, it does – in many ways,’ she said truthfully. ‘You know I really wanted to join the Land Army. When the war started I loved digging our vegetable plots at home and seeing everything grow. They taste wonderful. It’s something I’m good at and I don’t even mind weeding. But the Land Army won’t have me. It’s so ridiculous. You have to be seventeen and a half, and I’m not seventeen until December. So for the sake of a few months they’ve turned me down. They said to apply again in a year and I was bound to be successful, but the war will probably be over with by then and I won’t have done my bit.’
‘I doubt very much that the war will be over within the year,’ Mr Lincoln said, ‘but you’re obviously looking for more of an outdoor life.’ She nodded. ‘Well, I can see why the Land Army would have appealed but you’re going to have difficulty getting in anywhere at your young age. So why don’t you think about working here.’ He smiled. ‘There’s no need to come back to me with an answer straightaway. Take your time. It’s a big decision.’
Ronnie took in a breath. She could confide in Mr Lincoln. He would never repeat anything she said in confidence.
‘There is another possibility,’ she said. ‘I’ve got an interview next week with the Grand Union Canal Carrying Company.’
Mr Lincoln raised his brows. ‘Working on the canals? My goodness, Ronnie, that’s backbreaking work. Mind you, I think you’re physically strong and you’re a most determined young lady, so you’ll probably survive – maybe even enjoy it.’ He took his glasses off and studied her. ‘Well, I’m disappointed if that’s your decision, but if you need a reference, I’ll be more than happy to provide one.’
‘Thank you, Mr Lincoln. That’s kind of you.’ She paused. ‘There is one thing. My dog, Rusty. Do you think I’ll be able to take him with me on the canal?’
‘As far as Rusty’s concerned, he’d love it,’ Mr Lincoln smiled, ‘but you’ll have to ask permission at the interview. On second thoughts it’s probably better to wait and see how you settle in first in case it doesn’t turn out how you think it will.’ He paused. ‘I’ll be sorry to lose you, Ronnie. When the war’s over I hope you’ll consider my offer – that is, if I haven’t got someone permanent by then.’ He chuckled. ‘But I don’t suppose they’ll be queuing up. It’s not an easy option here for a young person.’
‘But I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it – except today with poor Oscar,’ Ronnie said, hoping she wasn’t making a terrible mistake by pursuing the canal work. ‘And if the canal people don’t take me on, I would love to come and work for you.’
The doorbell sounded.
‘That’ll be Mrs King with her poorly hamster. At least with his diet he’s safe enough.’ Mr Lincoln gave a rueful smile as he laid an old but spotlessly clean white pillowcase on the table. ‘Can you bring her and Hammy in, please, Ronnie?’
Ronnie mentally counted the days to her interview. Only six more. How on earth was she going to tell her mother she was going to London? Maman would forbid her to go. London is too dangerous, she’d say. You don’t know London. You’ve never been there. And most definitely I will not allow you to go on your own. And why would you want to, anyway? Her mother would insist upon accompanying her. Worse than that, it wouldn’t
