Page 38 of One Hot Summer

Bing looked down at me.

“Don’t look at me,” I said to him. “You pissed him off, not me.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

With just seven days to go, Samantha had allowed me to work half a day today, or rather she was getting sick of my holiday talk and didn’t put up much of a fight when I asked to leave early, so I decided to nip home to get changed and then headed out to buy some last-minute holiday bits. There might be some bikinis in the sale. A few more couldn’t hurt.

It was a humid day today. I hated trying on clothes when I’d been this warm. I wondered if I could manage to fit in a quick shower before I set off. I would be in a better mood for shopping if I felt fresh.

Zack was finishing work early too, but had decided to go straight to his flat to do some more holiday packing and make a start on sorting out his things for the big move, so wouldn’t be with me until later on tonight. We’d decided that the official move-in date would be when we returned from Crete, so there wouldn’t be any need to rush to get all his belongings across. We could just focus on the holiday.

I’d be on my own for tea today for the first time in ages. I wanted to try to be healthy so I didn’t put on any unwanted pounds before the big holiday, but with the choice of easy, delicious fast food on offer at the shopping centre… So much temptation.

I ran through my front door and threw my keys on the stairs, not wanting to waste a moment so I could get back out as soon as possible.

“Bing!” I waved my hand for him to come inside, but he just ignored me and ran down the driveway before I could grab him. “Oh, fine. Stay out there then.” I was still a little annoyed at him for throwing up on our coats. Of all the places in the house, particularly all the places with laminate floor where things can be easily wiped up, why our coats?

I heard Bing’s cries through my open bedroom window as I dried myself after a quick shower.

“I’m coming,” I called to him, as he wailed louder than usual. There was no shade, so I bet his little paws were burning on the tarmac. He usually liked to sit under the table, protected from the sun and looking out over his territory like a king, but not today for some reason. “I’m coming, Bing.”

Within minutes, I was pulling on my comfy white pumps, grabbing my bag, and running down the stairs to let the cat back in, but something about his cry grabbed my attention.

“Here you are, you silly sod,” I said to Bing as he ran into the hallway. He let out a meow that sounded more like a moan. And another, louder one. He stopped in his tracks and shook his head from side to side. “What’s the matter?” I dropped my bag on the floor. There seemed to be something in his mouth. “Come here.” I knelt on the floor beside him, but he turned away from me and growled. Even by Bing’s grumpy standards, this was out of character. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me look. Come here,” I said again more firmly, getting worried. His mouth was wide open, drool was dripping on the floor. He seemed agitated. Had he been bitten by something? He liked chasing spiders, it would be just my luck that he found the only black widow spider in Yorkshire.

Out of his mouth dropped a wasp, desperately trying to cling to life. Its wings moved slowly as its legs tried to find some grip on the floor, which was covered in Bing’s saliva. Without hesitation, I grabbed a discarded shoe and whacked it without mercy.

I looked back to Bing whose eyes were wide. There was a pool of drool by his feet now and he was panting heavily. His little cheeks started to swell. Was it possible to go a year without this cat causing some potentially expensive drama?

Pulling out my phone, I quickly called the vets who, let’s face it, may as well have been on speed dial by now, and explained what had just happened. The receptionist put me on hold to speak to the vet, returning within a minute, telling me to bring him in straight away.

This was going to be pricey.

I left Bing in the hallway so I could retrieve the flatpack cat carrier from under the stairs. Hunched over, he didn’t move. He was too focused on breathing to worry about what I was doing.

“It’s okay, Bing, it’s okay.” I opened up the carrier, getting angry at the zips for not cooperating with my shaking fingers, until it was finally open. I effortlessly scooped Bing up and placed him gently inside, hearing him growl at being moved, but there was no attempt to put up a fight. That was an angry growl. I hoped it wasn’t Dr Stevens on duty today. Please, don’t be Dr Stevens.

Dr Stevens opened the door to his treatment room and scanned the waiting area full of people and their pets of all shapes and sizes. He did notice me sitting with Bing. However, he seemed to purposely avoid making eye contact with us. He approached the receptionist, who pointed in our direction. The colour drained from his face.

“Do you want to come this way?” he said with very little enthusiasm.

I followed him into the room and placed the growling carrier on the examination table in front of the reluctant vet.

“So, do you want to tell me what’s happened?”

I relayed the story to him. “Do you think he’s having an allergic reaction?” I asked, panicking. Bing’s breathing could be heard from inside his carrier.

“I’ll… I’ll have to examine him.” I could sense his apprehension. Vets were supposed to love and respect all animals, however, this was no normal animal. This was Bing. And Dr Stevens bore the scars to prove it. “Has he vomited at all? Diarrhoea?”

“No.” At least I couldn’t smell anything going on in his carrier. With fur as white as Bing’s I’d surely notice something. “Nothing like that.”

“Do you…” He exhaled loudly, preparing himself for what had to come next. “Do you want to get him out and I can have a look. It was in his mouth, you say?” He stroked his scarred hand, remembering the horrors of Bing’s teeth.

“Yes, definitely in his mouth. The wasp just flopped out onto the floor.”

Bing came out of the carrier very easily. He seemed disorientated, but clearly in pain, which was awful to witness. I think even the vet was feeling sorry for him. Without instruction, I held on to him so he couldn’t move, knowing Dr Stevens was going to have to look in his mouth.

Carefully, oh-so carefully, Dr Stevens opened Bing’s mouth, knowing that he had a duty of care to this savage animal. Bing allowed him to look inside with a small light, but only for a few seconds before pulling away.

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