Page 35 of A New Family at Puddleduck Farm (Puddleduck Farm #6)

At Puddleduck Vets, Phoebe was about to take a call regarding a rabbit. Marcus was covering reception.

‘The woman isn’t a client, but she said you came highly recommended. Her name’s Mrs Samuels. It sounds like it might be a call-out. Although I’m not sure whether it’s a wild rabbit or a domestic one. Would you like to speak to her or shall I ask her to call back another time?’

‘No, it’s fine. I’ll talk to her now. Thanks.’ Phoebe frowned as Marcus unmuted the phone and handed it to her. She hoped she wasn’t about to deal with another owl in the shed situation.

‘Hello, Phoebe Dashwood speaking, can I help you?’

‘I really do hope so. I’ve got a question about a rabbit that I’ve – er – befriended…’

‘What’s the question?’

‘There’s a lot of myxomatosis around here and I was wondering if he could be vaccinated against getting it. Your receptionist said it might be possible.’

‘Yes, it’s definitely possible although we don’t usually vaccinate wild rabbits. Is this your rabbit? Or a wild rabbit?’

‘He’s not mine exactly. But he comes into my garden a lot, and I’m worried about his safety.’

‘OK.’ Phoebe took a breath. ‘The main difficulty I can foresee is catching him.’

‘I can catch him, no problem. Don’t worry about that.’

‘I see. So – er – do you want to bring him in to us?’

‘Truthfully… I’d much rather you came out here. I think it would be less stressful for him. I’m happy to pay for a call-out…’

‘Are you sure?’ Phoebe quoted her the cost.

There was a pause before she said, ‘Yes, that’s fine. Could you possibly come this afternoon? I’m in Totton.’

Phoebe put the phone back on mute, aware that Marcus was listening to this one-sided conversation. ‘She’d like me to go out this afternoon. She’s about half an hour away. Do I have any other calls?’

Marcus shook his head. So Phoebe arranged for Mrs Samuels to be her first client after lunch, letting out a sigh as she disconnected.

‘I hope it doesn’t turn out to be a wild goose chase, or should I say wild rabbit chase?’ Marcus raised his eyebrows. ‘Did she say she’d trapped him already?’

‘No. But she said it wouldn’t be a problem. That will be interesting to see.’

‘Yeah.’ Marcus drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘I don’t suppose I could tag along, could I? I’m not on shift this afternoon.’

‘Of course you can. If you want to. But surely you’ve got better things to do than chase around after wild rabbits in your time off.’

‘That sounds intriguing.’ Max appeared in reception behind them. ‘What are you two up to?’

Phoebe told him.

‘Are we supposed to treat wild rabbits? There’s definitely legislation around that.’

‘I’m not entirely sure whether this one is wild or domestic. She was a little bit cagey about it. I’m also not sure if we’re going to be able to catch it anyway. So this whole thing might be a waste of time.’

‘Take some gloves,’ Max advised. ‘Gauntlets would be good.’

‘Gauntlets! Why?’

‘Because if he’s been near any wild rabbits he’ll be covered in fleas. Wild rabbits are a bit like hedgehogs. That’s one of the ways myxy is carried. It’s a horrible disease. It’s nice of her to want to vaccinate him.’

‘It is,’ Marcus said. ‘Presuming she hasn’t got him locked up in some hutch in a shed. It’s back to the whole keeping wildlife in captivity because you can’t afford a pet thing, isn’t it?’

‘Is that why you want to come?’ Phoebe glanced at him. ‘We’re not going out to lecture her, Marcus. That’s not our job.’

He put up his hands, palms forward. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. But we can give her some friendly advice about the dangers of keeping wild animals as pets. Can’t we?’

‘If you mean in a very gentle, non-judgemental manner, then yes. But nothing heavy, Marcus. Promise me. Or you’re not coming.’

‘Sure thing, boss. No lecturing.’

Phoebe decided he meant it. ‘OK. And if this rabbit is hopping around in the garden, I might well need a hand to catch it.’

‘I’ll get two pairs of gauntlets then,’ Marcus said. ‘As well as the myxy jab.’

The address Mrs Samuels had given them turned out to be on a run-down housing estate just on the edge of Southampton.

‘I’d have thought this place would be closer to the Marchwood Practice than us,’ Phoebe said to Marcus as she followed her satnav’s instructions around several horseshoe-shaped roads that wound around the estate.

‘Yeah, it probably is. But Marchwood’s prices have gone up a lot since Seth sold the practice. Have you noticed? We’re about a third cheaper.’

‘Are you saying we’re too cheap?’

‘No, I think it’s more they’re too dear. Although you could go up a bit, boss. I’m sure no one would complain.’

‘Mmm. We’ll see. I don’t want to rip anyone off.’

‘I can’t imagine you ever doing that,’ Marcus said with such sincerity it warmed her.

The houses on the outskirts of the estate looked like newbuilds but not particularly upmarket ones, Phoebe noticed as she pulled up outside number seventeen, which was on the furthest edges of the development and backed on to fields.

‘Do you reckon these are the cheap houses they had to build in order to get planning permission to put up the rest?’ Marcus asked as Phoebe turned off the engine.

‘It does look like it.’ Phoebe surveyed their surroundings. The owner of this house didn’t look as though she had much money to spend. That was for sure. An ancient mustard-coloured Mini with a mismatching pale yellow passenger door was parked on the road in front of her.

‘It’s going to be another owl in the shed, isn’t it, boss?’

‘Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet,’ Phoebe said, even though she was pretty sure he was right.

A few minutes later they’d rung the doorbell and were let in by a woman who looked old enough to be a pensioner, albeit a very sprightly one.

She had greying hair drawn back tight in a ponytail from an age-spotted, lined face and she was wearing faded denim jeans and a tatty old rainbow-coloured patchwork jacket.

Phoebe introduced herself and Marcus.

‘I’m Connie Samuels – Connie.’ She frowned. ‘I didn’t realise there’d be two of you. I hope this isn’t going to cost me more.’

‘Not at all.’

‘Then follow me.’

The house smelled faintly of lavender, which reminded Phoebe of the afternoon tea they’d had with Rufus.

She realised, as they walked down a narrow hall that opened out into a bright and rather lovely blue and yellow kitchen, that there were little bags of what must be lavender, pinned over some of the doorways.

‘It’s something my old gran taught me,’ Connie said, noticing her looking. ‘It’s a great way to scent a room naturally. As long as you like lavender, that is.’

‘Yes.’ Phoebe smiled. ‘So do you have any other pets? Besides… er…’ She hesitated, realising she hadn’t asked her prospective patient’s name.

‘I haven’t given him a name. I thought if he had a name I might get too attached – that probably sounds daft, and as it happens, it hasn’t worked.

I am attached. But to answer your question, no, I don’t have any pets these days.

Too costly on a limited income. That’s why it was so nice when this wild one and I became so… well acquainted.’

Phoebe and Marcus exchanged glances as Connie opened the back door of her spotless kitchen and beckoned them outside.

The house had been a surprise – the pristine inside making a pleasant contrast to the rather tatty outside – but the garden was even more of a surprise.

An off-white stepping-stone-style footpath ran down the middle of a patch of green lawn towards a neat laurel hedge.

To the right of that was a semicircular weeded flower bed filled with evergreen shrubs and several blue and white pots grouped together, awaiting spring occupants.

Clusters of snowdrops encircled an apple tree at the far end.

They reminded Phoebe of family groups huddled together, their tall green stalks adorned with winter white bells pealing out music no human ear could hear.

There were also purple velvet-petalled crocuses that had braved the winter frosts, nestling in the longer grass around the edges of the garden.

Amongst the shrubs were two lavender bushes and there was a well-stocked bird table just left of the centre of the lawn.

In the left-hand corner closest to them was a small pond, covered with lilies and edged by another rockery, and when Phoebe glanced across she saw a frog leap into the water with a small splash.

Somewhere nearby a blackbird sang his heart out.

It was an idyllic little spot and looked well-tended, even in its winter bareness. Phoebe imagined it would look wonderful in spring and summer.

Connie was obviously a fan of wildlife. Her garden was a shrine to it, but there was no sign of a wild rabbit. There was no shed either, Phoebe was relieved to see.

‘I’ll call him.’ Connie’s voice interrupted the peace. ‘But if you two wouldn’t mind standing back a bit. He’s quite shy.’

They did as she said, and Connie stepped across to the low hedge, put two fingers to her mouth and gave a low whistle.

At first nothing happened, but a few seconds later there was movement in the sprawling molehill-dotted field that lay beyond the hedge. ‘Wow, do you see?’ Phoebe breathed to Marcus. ‘He’s right out there across the far side.’

Marcus nodded. He looked as astounded as Phoebe was feeling as the dot of a smoky-grey rabbit began to lollop across the field towards the little garden. He wasn’t in a hurry. Every so often he stopped by a molehill to sample a patch of grass, but slowly but surely he was heading their way.

Connie didn’t have to whistle again. Although she did crouch down a little as the rabbit got closer to the hedge. ‘Come on then, lad. Come on, little rab.’

Phoebe and Max watched as the rabbit arrived on the other side of the hedge, then ducked down and came through what must have been a gap near the ground. A few seconds later it was in the garden.

The rabbit paused a few feet away and sat back on its haunches for a second, scenting the air, nose wrinkling, as if it had sensed danger.