Rites of Spring by Anders Motte (life books to read .txt) 📗

twenty-four-hour veterinary hospital; it’s in Helsingborg, about forty minutes away.

Emee needs help, right now.

Thea jumps in the car, floors the accelerator. The castle is in darkness; David’s car is parked by the east wing. The kitchen door is locked. She hammers on it as hard as she can, shouting his name. She quickly realises that he’s probably sleeping in one of the upstairs rooms, and can’t hear her.

She gets back in the car, drives around to the front. Keeps one hand on the horn, flashes the headlights repeatedly. No response. She calls David’s name over and over again, pointlessly.

A faint whimper from the back seat; Emee can’t wait any longer. They have to go.

Suddenly a silhouette appears from the west wing. It’s Hubert, in his dressing gown and slippers, hair standing on end.

‘What’s going on?’

Thea opens the car door. ‘Emee’s been poisoned – glycol.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know. Something she ate.’

‘Anything I can do?’

‘Have you got any vodka?’

‘Vodka?’

‘I need alcohol – as pure as possible.’

‘I’ve got a bottle of Absolut in the drinks cupboard.’

‘Go and fetch it and get dressed. You have to drive us to the veterinary hospital.’

Hubert nods and runs back the way he came.

Thea takes her medical bag out of the boot and gets into the back seat. Emee lifts her head; she’s been sick again, and the sweet smell fills the car.

Thea digs out a syringe, fits a cannula.

Hubert’s back. He’s put on trousers, his oilskin and wellingtons, but is still in his pyjama jacket. ‘Here!’ He hands her an unopened bottle of Absolut vodka.

‘The veterinary hospital is in Helsingborg, on Bergavägen,’ Thea tells him.

Hubert puts his foot down and the gravel sprays up around the tyres.

Thea opens the bottle, draws a few millilitres into the syringe. Emee weighs about thirty-five kilos; she tries to work out a suitable dose.

‘What are you doing?’ Hubert asks when they reach the main road.

‘Glycol isn’t poisonous until the body’s broken it down. Ethanol prevents that process.’

She decides on the dose and runs her thumb over one of Emee’s front legs, searching for a vein.

‘Can you stop for a second and switch on the internal light so that I can give her an injection?’

Hubert does as she asks. Thea finds a vein, injects what she hopes will be just enough. Emee’s eyelids are growing heavy.

‘OK, go. We’ll have to do this again in about ten minutes.’

Hubert speeds through the night.

‘I’m guessing you’ve done this before,’ he says over his shoulder.

‘We had a few cases in Nigeria. A couple of men who’d bought adulterated moonshine, and a little boy who’d managed to open a bottle of anti-freeze in a garage. Glycol smells and tastes sweet, which is why animals and kids like it.’

‘What happened to them?’

‘The men recovered. They came to us in time, and a grown man is more resilient.’

‘And the boy?’

She doesn’t answer. Hubert understands, and drives even faster.

71

The journey takes just over half an hour. Hubert pulls up outside the emergency entrance and helps Thea to carry Emee inside.

The dog is barely conscious. She is showing the whites of her eyes, and her breathing is laboured. Thea has phoned ahead, explained the situation and told them what she’s already done. Two nurses and a vet are waiting and immediately take over.

‘She’s in good hands,’ one of the nurses reassures them. ‘If you take a seat in the waiting room I’ll come and speak to you as soon as I can.’

*

Hubert fetches coffee from a machine while Thea sinks down on a plastic chair.

How can Emee have ingested glycol? She goes through the previous day, trying to think of an opportunity when the dog could have eaten something she shouldn’t.

Emee was only out of her sight on three occasions. The most likely scenario is that it happened when she ran off into the forest, but where would she find glycol in a forest, several kilometres from the nearest road and even further from a garage?

The other two occasions were when she locked Emee in the surgery during the information meeting, and after she fell asleep in the coach house. There is no source of glycol in either of those locations.

Could someone have deliberately poisoned Emee? She can’t shake off the thought.

She tries calling David, leaves a message when he doesn’t answer.

Hubert hands her a cup of coffee and sits down beside her.

‘I used to have an animal I loved too,’ he says after they’ve sat in silence for a while. ‘Nelson. A pure-bred Arabian. He was wild and hard to handle, but I loved riding him. He made me feel strong, invincible.’ He pauses, lost in his memories. Then he straightens up.

‘Would you like another coffee? Something to eat? I can go and look for somewhere that’s open.’

She shakes her head. ‘What happened to Nelson?’

‘Another time. It’s not the right story to tell you just now.’

She places a hand on his arm. ‘What happened?’

He sighs, gives in.

‘Father sent me away to say with relatives in England. Just after I left, Nelson injured his leg. Father . . .’ Hubert takes a deep breath, eyes shining with unshed tears. ‘He shot him. Per Nyberg was there, he told me that Father did it himself. Led Nelson behind the stable and shot him in the forehead. Had the body collected and incinerated that same afternoon.’

Hubert shakes his head slowly.

‘My father was a hard man. He had no patience with weakness.’ He gives a wry smile. ‘I warned you it wasn’t the right story for tonight.’

‘You did.’

Thea’s body feels heavy. She closes her eyes, tries not to think about Emee, fighting for her life along the corridor. About Margaux.

How about calling her Emee? She can be our own little ghost. Yours and mine, ma chère.

‘What was your father like?’ Hubert asks.

‘He was a complete bastard,’ she murmurs.

‘What did he do?’

She opens her eyes. Realises what she’s said. ‘Nothing. Forget it.’

The nurse reappears, her expression grave. An abyss opens up in Thea’s midriff. She gets to her feet, holding her breath.

‘You were right, it was