Old Age Private Eye by A. W. Blakely

Author:A. W. Blakely
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A. W. Blakely
Published: 2015-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

***

"I'm sorry, Stanley, but I can't help you," said Mrs. Patterson, peering at him through glasses so thick they magnified her eyes, making them appear huge and as disconcerting as always.

"But it's only to see if you can trace the dog by the microchip. You did give Jamie the microchip didn't you?" Stanley knew the vet well, had been seeing her for years, amazed she stayed in her job when she could see next to nothing, even with her glasses on.

"As I already said, all I can tell you is to check with the owner. That is confidential information. What I can tell you," she said in a whisper, looking around in case anyone was eavesdropping, not that she would see them if they were, "is that we got a visit from the police a year ago when the animal went missing, and we did all we could to help at the time. So if the dog has never been found then that should tell you all you need to know." She smiled, then winked, before the woman who made Stanley seem like a sprightly youth shuffled off, her tiny frame making her appear almost like a child from behind — the hunched back and bowed legs gave her away as anything but young.

"What did that mean?" asked Stanley, turning to Kate.

"No idea. Maybe just that they couldn't trace the dog, or something. Maybe we should call Maddy, or go visit her?"

"Call her, ask her about the dog, then we need to make one more stop."

"Okay, if you're sure?"

"I'm sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"Okay, Dad, no need to get all grumpy. I was just checking you were up to it. You seem tired."

"I'm fine. Come on, let's go get Roobarb, he's probably having a seizure by now."

They walked back to the car, Stanley trying his best not to moan about the ache in his hip and look alert. Truth was he was tired, wanted a lie down or a cup of sugary tea, preferably both. He wasn't used to the exertion, not now — he would take a few days to get back up to speed. He was sure that was all it was: out of practice, nothing to worry about. His hip twinged and he felt white-hot pain stab into his side. He stopped dead in his tracks, gasping. Sweat beaded under his cap.

Kate was talking to Roobarb who wagged excitedly, then sniffed her warily, clearly getting a whiff of vet. When the pain passed Stanley moved cautiously forward, hoping he'd wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Right, maybe we should go and have a cuppa? How about the cafe?"

"I wouldn't really call it a cafe," said Kate, still ruffling Roobarb's head, "but sure. You just want to go there so you can have sugar. You do know it would be quicker to go home, don't you?"

"Oh, as if. I don't want to disturb your mum, that's all. You know what she's like."

"Yeah, sure, Dad." Kate smiled. "I can call Maddy from there too, ask about the dog and let her know where we are with things.

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