Soon Tefo and I are comfortable in our new locum life.
I sit in the reception office, at the desk, with my study books open. But I’m also answering the phone, booking appointments, writing invoices and receipts, greeting pet-owners as they bring their pets in.
Often it’s Miss Whittle and her dumb parrot. Dr Dreyer was right about her. She sits, with Captain Silver in his small travelling cage on her lap, talking non-stop.
“Who’s a pretty boy? Who’s my handsome man? Talk to me, sweetheart. Come on, just say ‘hello’!”
It’s really hard to concentrate on my latest assignment with this going on, but I do my best.
Then Tefo opens the Surgery door, looking so sexy in his white coat. And he starts talking to the idiot bird as well!
“What’s the problem, Captain Silver? Come, my little one, I’ll take care of you.”
“Oh Dr Nkoni, I’m so worried …” Miss Whittle is saying as the Surgery door closes and peace reigns once more. And I can get on with my assignment. Yay!
Except then the phone rings. Boo!
Next thing, Mrs Gabathuse plus her three kids plus their new kitten (with an eye infection) arrive. The kitten scratches Mrs Gabathuse’s toddler who howls and howls. Triple boo!
To be fair, though, I manage to get plenty of work done between times.
Tuesdays and Thursday, Poppy September, the vet nurse, comes to assist with any operations. She tells Tefo, “Pet owners are raving about you, Dr Nkoni. They say that you are wonderful with animals, that you have a real gift.”
Tefo’s eyes shine – and I am happy for him.
* * * * *
Every evening, Tefo goes across to the Surgery to feed any patients being kept overnight while they recuperate. Feeding takes a long time – no doubt he is having long conversations with each dog and cat and bird. Dr Dolittle to the max!
Meanwhile I go for my evening walk, trying a different route each time. I walk while the sun sets in a glory of red and gold, while the first evening stars appear. I wish Tefo would walk with me. Perhaps then he would understand how beautiful and peaceful country life can be. But he hates walking on sand.
“It gets in my shoes,” he says. “And never mind the thorn trees that always catch on my shirt. Give me concrete pavements every time.”
Come evening, we cuddle up on Dr Dreyer’s sofa and watch Dr Dreyer’s mega-big TV screen.
At the moment, I’m letting Tefo have the remote. So we watch endless idiot cricketers in their white uniforms wandering endlessly around the cricket field. Once in a while, they throw the red ball or hit the red ball or catch the red ball. The spectators yell for a moment – and then go back to sleep. I can hardly cope with the mega-excitement of it all. Not!
But don’t worry, Tefo knows that come Halloween, that remote is not leaving my hand for a second! He’d better enjoy his sport while he can.
So that’s the normal routine of our days. Well, except for the Thursday just six days before Halloween. That Thursday afternoon becomes something else.
***
Tell us: Do you think Melissa is happy and content with Tefo for her partner?