Free The Impossible Search for the Perfect Man by Debbie Howells/Susie Martyn Page B

elegantly dressed in a linen suit, and bearing a
large, embossed envelope, which she entrusts into the safe hands of Agnes.
    ‘We’re having a little party at the
stud,’ she tells us, ‘and I thought, in the circumstances, it might be rather
lovely if all of you could join us.’
    My ears prick up.  What, all of
us?  Even me? And Mrs Boggle?  The large
embossed envelope, addressed to ‘all the staff’, contained an equally large
embossed invitation, to a summer party at the Amberley Stud, Sylvie’s pad.
 Golly.  I bet it’s not a ‘little party’ at all.  Probably the
social occasion of the year, if not the decade.  How exciting!  I’ve
never actually been there, though I’ve heard so much about it, I feel I know
every inch of the place.
    I commit the date to memory.   Easy.  It’s the 4 th of July, American
Independence Day.  I’m not missing this one for anything.  I feel
excited already!  Agnes senses my reaction, and gives me one of her looks.
    ‘Thank you very much, Sylvie. I’ll see
to it that everyone is made aware of your kind invitation.’   The everyone is emphasised, so that Sylvie goes away
satisfied that Beamish will definitely be informed.  I’m sure he’ll be
there too.  Even he can’t wriggle out of this one.
    Agnes is so clever.   Wonderful with the clients.  I can’t wait to tell Emma,
though one of the vets will have to be on call, I suppose.  I hope it’s
not her. 
    ‘Louisa? Could you photocopy this and
make sure there’s one for everyone?’ Agnes asks me.   ‘Oh,
and could you let me have an extra copy to give to Beamish?   I
could drop it in to him on my way home.’
    That makes me sit up.  So Agnes
‘drops in’ on Beamish does she ?   Hmmm… how
interesting.  My imagination races away with me.  I’ve absolutely no
idea if there is or has ever been a ‘Mr Agnes’.  Or maybe she’s never met the
one .  Then another thought wallops me between the eyes.  Golly…perhaps
she and Beamish are secretly dating and share romantic moments when none of us
are watching…  Maybe they’ll get married and I can help her plan the
wedding…
    ‘LOUISA?’  Agnes’s stentorian voice
brings me abruptly back to the present.
    As I work the photocopier, for a
fleeting second I entertain the idea of leaving Marcus out.  Then I decide
I’d never get away with it.  Everyone will be talking about Sylvie’s
party.  Best just hope it’s him that ends up on call.
    Then there’s another bombshell.  I
call Leonie, just to see how things are, and they’re not.   She’s
having a total meltdown and on the other end of the phone, is in pieces.
    ‘ Pete saw the doctor this morning.
 Oh Lou, I just can’t believe it ,’ she wails.  ‘They say he’s
suffering from depression...  I don’t know what we’re going to do. 
People who get that never get over it, do they?  He won’t be able to work,
we won’t have any money and we’ll lose our house...’ and there she is, sobbing
her heart out.
    I try to take in what she’s telling me,
because I’m having trouble getting my head round this.  Ever since I met
Pete, without fail, he’s always jolly old Pete with a ready smile and a
joke.  He can’t have depression. 
    ‘What happens now?  What does Pete
think?  And where is he?’ All these questions come into my head at once.
    ‘He’s upstairs, lying on our bed, gazing
miserably up at the ceiling, refusing to talk to me.  He did say that he
has to see a specialist the day after tomorrow, but that’s about all.   Oh
Lou, it’s the first time in all the years we’ve been together that he’s pushing
me away.  I can’t bear it ...’  She’s sobbing again.
    I think fast.  I’m not sure what to
say to her.  I’ve never really come across depression.
    ‘Why don’t you ask if you can see the
specialist with him?  Tell him that way you won’t need to badger him with
questions...’ I suggest hopefully.  It might work, who