Welcome to Rosie Hopkins' Sweet Shop of Dreams
Page 17
‘Oh’ she said, her face falling. After the adrenalin of their dash to the surgery, Rosie finally realised just how many illegal things she’d done in the last forty minutes.
‘Oh,’ she said again. ‘Oh dear. Oh dear. I’m so sorry … it was just …’
Hye looked from the dog to Rosie to Moray to the dog again.
‘You … you brought a dog in here?’
‘Nothing else to be done, sir,’ said Moray respectfully. ‘Jim Hodds is over the other side of the mountain in the middle of a tricky foaling. Perforated abdomen. The dog would have died, sir. And, fortunately, this young lady happened to be passing and proved the most excellent nurse.’
‘That is absolutely and categorically not allowed,’ Hye spluttered.
Rosie moved back towards the table and tentatively rested her hand on the dog’s head. To her astonishment, Bran lifted his head a tiny amount, and gently licked her hand. Despite the amount of trouble she was in, she couldn’t help it. She was delighted.
‘Hey, boy,’ she said softly, her voice trembling.
Moray’s face broke into a smile. ‘Hey, old fellow!’ he said. ‘Look at that, Hye.’
‘Well, I can’t … I can’t believe this,’ said Hye. ‘Do I need to call the police?’
‘Do you need to call the what?’ came a loud, imperious voice, and the dog’s owner strode into the room.
‘He’s stirring,’ said Rosie. The woman rushed over and put her hand to the dog’s muzzle, and he tried another tentative lick.
‘Bran,’ said the woman. ‘Oh, Bran.’
She briefly buried her face in the animal’s neck. Dr Evans watched in disbelief.
Then she turned to him. ‘Hye Evans,’ she said. ‘Your young doctor and this strange girl just saved my dog’s life. They were magnificent.’
There was a long pause.
‘Lady … Lady Lipton,’ stammered Dr Evans. Rosie’s eyes opened wide with shock.
A lady! Well, that was a stupid reaction, obviously. But even so. Maybe that’s why she had kept insisting that it was ‘her’ road. Because it was.
‘Amazing. You are so lucky to have this young man at your practice. I shall tell everyone so.’
‘Uhm, but …’ stammered Dr Evans.
Lady Lipton nodded. ‘I’ll pay you for the medicines, of course. Without these young people around it would have been a very different night indeed. You know, it’s not the first time I’ve been to this surgery and found nobody here.’
Moray and Rosie looked at each other and grimaced.
‘You’ll still need to get him X-rayed,’ warned Moray.
‘I certainly will,’ said Lady Lipton. ‘Well done, Hye. Nice to see you take on somebody competent for a change.’
Hye spluttered.
‘I’ll send Mrs Flynn down to clean up. Now, please, Moray, could you help me lift my darling boy back into the car?’
Moray snuck off after helping Lady Lipton with her big woofer. He wanted to find the girl – what was her name again? – and thank her. He had no idea if she was just passing through or not. It had taken him a while to realise what was peculiar about her, then it finally struck him that she had been soaking wet.
Chapter Five
‘In 1932 the Milky Way appeared in the US, followed by Mr Mars junior’s invention, the Mars Bar, in the UK in 1933. 1935, the Aero, 1936 Maltesers, and in 1937 the Kit Kat, Rolos and Smarties. In music the equivalent would be the golden age of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven. In painting it was the equivalent of the Italian Renaissance and the advent of Impressionism at the end of the nineteenth century; in literature, Tolstoy, Balzac and Dickens …
‘Never mind about 1066 William the Conqueror, 1087 William the Second. Such things are not going to affect one’s life … but 1933 the Mars Bar and 1936 Maltesers and 1937 the Kit Kat – these dates are milestones in history and should be seared into the memory of every child in the country.’
So said none other than Roald Dahl, and he should know and in fact gets the last word on just about every single sweet-related issue out there.
So take that, you smarty-pants ‘one square of 90% cocoa dark chocolate with chilli taken with a glass of Chateau Petrus 1978’ brigade, and naff right off. Here are the facts: the more rarefied and bitter you take your chocolate, the less you TRULY like and appreciate the stuff. The chocolate you grew up with, mass-produced, high in fat and sugar, low in cocoa, is one of the many, many things that made Britain great. Along with, of course, Roald Dahl.
If you truly are a chocolate snob, then the great mass-market bars cater for you too, with the most exquisite, perfectly balanced fusion of chocolate-based mint flavouring: the Fry’s Chocolate Cream (plain, in the navy blue wrapper). If this peak of delicate, sweet and ever so slightly sharp, mouth-melting infusion of happiness, class and flavour does not assuage your snobbish tastebuds, then you’re doing it wrong. May I therefore commend to you an alternative volume entitled Being Pointlessly Snotty and Showing Off: A User’s Manual.
It took the adrenalin wearing off for Rosie to realise just how wet she was. That, and stepping out into an afternoon as clear and blue as the morning she’d left Lipton. What on earth had the weather done? Had it been an entirely topical downpour? As she dripped up the road towards Lilian’s house it seemed unfair that so many faces turned towards her to stare. Didn’t they know they lived in a mad climate?
Lilian was pottering about in the house looking worried when she arrived, but desperately trying not to show it too much.
‘What happened to you?’ she said. ‘I thought you’d turned around and gone home. Which you can do whenever you like.’
Lilian wondered if she’d been too hard on the girl before. Although she did look absolutely atrocious.
Rosie didn’t mention how close she’d come, alone on the hilltop, to pledging to go home.
‘There was a storm! I got drenched!’
‘Well, this is Derbyshire, darling, not the Balearics. Run yourself a bath and get a proper coat.’
Rosie put the kettle on and ran her fingers through her hair. Without wanting to drop anyone in it about treating a dog in a doctor’s surgery, she mentioned in passing that she’d met the local doctor.
‘Hye Evans? That fat old fool,’ said Lilian. ‘That man couldn’t diagnose a nail sticking out of your leg if you turned up with a nail sticking out of your leg, saying, “Doctor, I just accidentally hammered a nail into my leg.” And trust me, I should know.’
‘Oh,’ she said again. ‘Oh dear. Oh dear. I’m so sorry … it was just …’
Hye looked from the dog to Rosie to Moray to the dog again.
‘You … you brought a dog in here?’
‘Nothing else to be done, sir,’ said Moray respectfully. ‘Jim Hodds is over the other side of the mountain in the middle of a tricky foaling. Perforated abdomen. The dog would have died, sir. And, fortunately, this young lady happened to be passing and proved the most excellent nurse.’
‘That is absolutely and categorically not allowed,’ Hye spluttered.
Rosie moved back towards the table and tentatively rested her hand on the dog’s head. To her astonishment, Bran lifted his head a tiny amount, and gently licked her hand. Despite the amount of trouble she was in, she couldn’t help it. She was delighted.
‘Hey, boy,’ she said softly, her voice trembling.
Moray’s face broke into a smile. ‘Hey, old fellow!’ he said. ‘Look at that, Hye.’
‘Well, I can’t … I can’t believe this,’ said Hye. ‘Do I need to call the police?’
‘Do you need to call the what?’ came a loud, imperious voice, and the dog’s owner strode into the room.
‘He’s stirring,’ said Rosie. The woman rushed over and put her hand to the dog’s muzzle, and he tried another tentative lick.
‘Bran,’ said the woman. ‘Oh, Bran.’
She briefly buried her face in the animal’s neck. Dr Evans watched in disbelief.
Then she turned to him. ‘Hye Evans,’ she said. ‘Your young doctor and this strange girl just saved my dog’s life. They were magnificent.’
There was a long pause.
‘Lady … Lady Lipton,’ stammered Dr Evans. Rosie’s eyes opened wide with shock.
A lady! Well, that was a stupid reaction, obviously. But even so. Maybe that’s why she had kept insisting that it was ‘her’ road. Because it was.
‘Amazing. You are so lucky to have this young man at your practice. I shall tell everyone so.’
‘Uhm, but …’ stammered Dr Evans.
Lady Lipton nodded. ‘I’ll pay you for the medicines, of course. Without these young people around it would have been a very different night indeed. You know, it’s not the first time I’ve been to this surgery and found nobody here.’
Moray and Rosie looked at each other and grimaced.
‘You’ll still need to get him X-rayed,’ warned Moray.
‘I certainly will,’ said Lady Lipton. ‘Well done, Hye. Nice to see you take on somebody competent for a change.’
Hye spluttered.
‘I’ll send Mrs Flynn down to clean up. Now, please, Moray, could you help me lift my darling boy back into the car?’
Moray snuck off after helping Lady Lipton with her big woofer. He wanted to find the girl – what was her name again? – and thank her. He had no idea if she was just passing through or not. It had taken him a while to realise what was peculiar about her, then it finally struck him that she had been soaking wet.
Chapter Five
‘In 1932 the Milky Way appeared in the US, followed by Mr Mars junior’s invention, the Mars Bar, in the UK in 1933. 1935, the Aero, 1936 Maltesers, and in 1937 the Kit Kat, Rolos and Smarties. In music the equivalent would be the golden age of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven. In painting it was the equivalent of the Italian Renaissance and the advent of Impressionism at the end of the nineteenth century; in literature, Tolstoy, Balzac and Dickens …
‘Never mind about 1066 William the Conqueror, 1087 William the Second. Such things are not going to affect one’s life … but 1933 the Mars Bar and 1936 Maltesers and 1937 the Kit Kat – these dates are milestones in history and should be seared into the memory of every child in the country.’
So said none other than Roald Dahl, and he should know and in fact gets the last word on just about every single sweet-related issue out there.
So take that, you smarty-pants ‘one square of 90% cocoa dark chocolate with chilli taken with a glass of Chateau Petrus 1978’ brigade, and naff right off. Here are the facts: the more rarefied and bitter you take your chocolate, the less you TRULY like and appreciate the stuff. The chocolate you grew up with, mass-produced, high in fat and sugar, low in cocoa, is one of the many, many things that made Britain great. Along with, of course, Roald Dahl.
If you truly are a chocolate snob, then the great mass-market bars cater for you too, with the most exquisite, perfectly balanced fusion of chocolate-based mint flavouring: the Fry’s Chocolate Cream (plain, in the navy blue wrapper). If this peak of delicate, sweet and ever so slightly sharp, mouth-melting infusion of happiness, class and flavour does not assuage your snobbish tastebuds, then you’re doing it wrong. May I therefore commend to you an alternative volume entitled Being Pointlessly Snotty and Showing Off: A User’s Manual.
It took the adrenalin wearing off for Rosie to realise just how wet she was. That, and stepping out into an afternoon as clear and blue as the morning she’d left Lipton. What on earth had the weather done? Had it been an entirely topical downpour? As she dripped up the road towards Lilian’s house it seemed unfair that so many faces turned towards her to stare. Didn’t they know they lived in a mad climate?
Lilian was pottering about in the house looking worried when she arrived, but desperately trying not to show it too much.
‘What happened to you?’ she said. ‘I thought you’d turned around and gone home. Which you can do whenever you like.’
Lilian wondered if she’d been too hard on the girl before. Although she did look absolutely atrocious.
Rosie didn’t mention how close she’d come, alone on the hilltop, to pledging to go home.
‘There was a storm! I got drenched!’
‘Well, this is Derbyshire, darling, not the Balearics. Run yourself a bath and get a proper coat.’
Rosie put the kettle on and ran her fingers through her hair. Without wanting to drop anyone in it about treating a dog in a doctor’s surgery, she mentioned in passing that she’d met the local doctor.
‘Hye Evans? That fat old fool,’ said Lilian. ‘That man couldn’t diagnose a nail sticking out of your leg if you turned up with a nail sticking out of your leg, saying, “Doctor, I just accidentally hammered a nail into my leg.” And trust me, I should know.’
