As Donnie and Maisie wandered back into the surgery, Donnie had another surprise.
“Henry?” It was a bit of a shock to see his friend—his perfectly groomed, fastidious friend who treated animals as if they were small, dangerous grenades about to go off in a flurry of noise and mess at any moment—in a vet’s practice. “Did you need me for something?”
Another shock: Henry blushed. Donnie hadn’t known embarrassment was an option in Henry’s emotional repertoire. He was far more likely in the face of challenge to whip out his scorching wit, as he called it. Maisie called it rude shit.
“No,” Henry said hurriedly. “Definitely not. I mean, that’s not to say you haven’t been the most giving and helpful friend I’ve got. Even when I’ve been…”
Words seemed to fail him, another first-time event. Donnie didn’t think he could take much more shock.
“Sit down,” he said gently. There was no sign of Will, so maybe he was in his consulting room. There was a ten minute break before the first appointment of the afternoon. “If you have time to catch up.”
“Of course I do. Abi’s running the bar for me, he’s a marvel, and everyone loves him. He’s not remotely like me.”
Donnie tried to hide his smile, he really did. Abi was also a friend, but when he’d taken a temporary job at the bar, Donnie had never for the wildest moment expected him to get together with Henry. Abi was a kind, gentle, very plain-speaking soul. Henry hadn’t been that since the cradle, though Donnie hadn’t known him then, so even that may be suspect.
Henry gestured limply around the waiting area. “So, this is your new fiefdom?”
“Hardly that. It’s just a job. Reception, admin, general dogsbody.”
Henry shifted restlessly on the seat: the plastic cushion gave a soft squelching noise. Donnie made a mental note to investigate cloth covers for the chairs.
“I heard you lost the factory job, and I thought I’d drop in and see… well, if you needed some help.”
Donnie blinked hard. He wondered if he’d breathed in some stray anaesthetic and was having hallucinations. Henry didn’t offer help. Henry scorned the incompetent way everyone else coped with life, and let them rise or fall by their own efforts. Usually fall, of course, because Henry’s standards were so much higher than the rest of the world. At least, that’s what he was usually like.
“Hm. Thanks. I think. I was going to ask for some sessions at the bar—”
“Anything you need!”
“Yes. Okay. Thanks again. But then Will offered me this job. I’m just trying it out.”
“And it looks a perfect fit for you,” Henry rushed on. “He’s a good man, Will. I’ve spoken to him a few times.”
“When?” God that sounded blunt, but Donnie was now sure he’d slipped through the space time continuum and was on an alternate universe. Henry knew everyone’s business on the parade—most people stopped in the bar at some time or another—but he didn’t often put himself out to chat with them outside of work.
“Here. At the practice.” Henry was even redder now. It clashed horribly with his purple neck scarf, even judged by Donnie’s exotic style chart. “Abi… I brought Abi’s dog in for a check up.”
“Abi has a dog? You brought it here? You?” Henry had once said that dogs were the con artists of the earth, hiding all their demonic plans to eat you out of house and home—and turn you out of your own bed—under a soppy grin, and owners were sad sacks if they fell for it. He would never, ever pet one. Donnie had seen the sneer on Henry’s face when one even came near.
There wasn’t a sneer on Henry’s face now. His expression could almost be called… fond.
Donnie wasn’t going to hold back the laugh any longer. Henry could be an arrogant and intolerant friend at his worst, but it was good to discover he had a softer side. “So, things are going well with Abi?”
“He’s… we’re… I’m very content.” Henry managed to make the simple statement sound like he was teasing out a 15 tog duvet through a narrow plastic straw. But there was a smile on his face at the same time.
“Really? I’m pleased to hear it. He certainly seems to have had an effect on you.”
“What do you mean by that? Are there dog hairs on my jacket?”
Yes, the cranky old Henry wasn’t completely lost, then. Donnie felt absurdly pleased, even though he’d suffered more than his fair share of Henry’s passive bullying over the years.
“Henry’s on the organising committee too,” Maisie said. She was browsing through some leaflets on animal dental care, and wincing exaggeratedly. Donnie was pretty sure she should have gone back to work by now.
“Yes, I’m in charge of fundraising,” Henry said. “For refurbishing the new halfway house. We’re going to hold the usual bake sales, but also competitions and open mic nights, and… well… possibly… a pet show. In the garden at Bar de Bijou.”
“At your bar?”
“Thank you, Donnie, I think I expressed myself clearly enough without you labouring the point,” Henry said primly.
“Oh, for God’s sake. Who are you and what have you done with my pet-hating friend Henry?”
“I know.” Henry pursed his lips. “I’m sorry.”
“What for? Not being a sarcastic, rude, dismissive tosser?” Maisie piped in from over by the counter.
“I see your tongue remains a weapon of mass destruction, Mais,” Henry said smartly. “Luckily, I have developed immunity over the long, arduous years of knowing you.”
Maisie snorted and Henry—wonders would never cease!—actually smirked in return. He turned back to Donnie, his jaw set firmly.
“Basically, I realise how often I’ve been a crap friend to you. You are a good man, Donnie, an even better friend to me, and all I’ve done is run you down over the years. Just for the sake of a cheap joke or two.”
“Or ten,” Maisie muttered, but she was staring at Henry with some admiration.
“Wow. Thanks.” Donnie didn’t know what else to say. His heart felt embarrassingly full. “I know it’s your way, Henry. You’re just… you.”
“Well, yes. But that doesn’t mean I can’t improve,” Henry said a little pompously, but his eyes looked suspiciously shiny. “Anyway, the fundraising campaign is live, and I’m on the case.”
“They’re all great ideas,” Donnie said encouragingly.
“Might you ask Will if he’d offer veterinarian support at the pet show?”
“What’s that? I’ll be pleased to help.” Will had wandered out from the consulting room where he’d obviously been catching up on paperwork: he had a pen behind his ear and a sheaf of notes in his hand. He now moved closer, to stand behind Donnie.
“I’ll take those,” Donnie said helpfully, lifting the notes from Will’s rather sweaty grip. “I know where they go.”
He bent to tuck them in a desk drawer, for his end-of-day filing, his arse poking almost into Will’s lap. He gave a totally unnecessary, but mischievous wiggle, and Will sucked in a soft breath. As Donnie straightened, he could feel the warmth from Will’s palm as his hand rested only a couple of inches from the small of Donnie’s back.
“And Donnie?” Henry said. “We’ve put you down for refreshments as usual. In fact, we’re thinking of running a kind of baking contest, which you of course will be entering.”
“I will?” Donnie blinked with surprise and delight. Henry usually asked him not to bake, well, not anything too ambitious. Funny, Henry’s attitude seemed to have shifted significantly since the day of Donnie’s Easter chocolate disaster. “That would be great. I’ve got an idea for some pride cupcakes, you know, in different colours of the rainbow? And then—”
Will chuckled behind him and put a hand on Donnie’s shoulder. “First appointment just came in the door, Donnie. We have to get to work.” Will turned his smiling, welcoming vet face to Donnie’s friends and said, “Donnie’s pretty busy now. You’ll have to find someone else to help out. There are plenty of commercial bakeries who will probably donate goods. In fact, I’ll get in touch with some of them I know from the local chamber of commerce. That will be a much better and more professional source.”
The warm prickle Donnie had felt at Will’s closeness felt suddenly chill.
“Any donations are very gratefully received, of course.” Henry’s attention was all on Will, he was glowing with pleasure. “I’ll put you on the circulation list for our sponsor requests, shall I?”
“No problem,” Will said easily.
No problem, Donnie’s thoughts echoed. Right.
It was obvious to everyone that Will had more money than Donnie. Even if you allowed for the fact that most of the people Donnie knew had more money than he did, Will would be a very welcome sponsor. He presumably had a network of similar professional, well off people who could contribute to the worthy cause of Rick’s new project. And so would his family. The community was very lucky to have him.
But Donnie didn’t know how he felt about Will speaking on his behalf.