scream, all that came into her head was a string of questions, so objective and practical that they seemed callous. 'How much of it?' He frowned, lost. 'What?' 'Her leg. How much of it are they taking off?' 'From above the—' He broke off, having to summon control. The detail seemed so shocking. 'Above the knee.'
'Which leg?'
'The right.'
'How far above the knee?'
'Jesus Christ Annie! What the hell does it matter?' He pulled away from her, freeing himself, wiping his wet face with the back of a hand.
'Well, it matters quite a lot I think.' She was astonishing even herself. He was right, of course it didn't matter. It was academic, ghoulish even, to pursue it but she wasn't going to stop now. 'Is it just above the knee or is she losing the top of her leg as well?'
'Just above the knee. I haven't got the exact measurements but why don't you just go on down and I'm sure they'll let you have a look.'
He turned away to the window and Annie stood watching as he took out a handkerchief and did a proper job on the mucus and tears, angry at himself now for having wept. There were footsteps in the corridor behind her.
'Mrs Maclean?'
Annie turned. A young nurse, all in white, darted a look at Robert and decided Annie was the one to talk to.
'There's a call for you.'
The nurse led the way, walking in small rapid steps, her white shoes making no sound on the shining tiled floor of the corridor so that she seemed to Annie to be gliding. She showed Annie to a phone near the reception desk and put the call through from the office.
It was Joan Dyer from the stables. She apologized for calling and asked nervously after Grace. Annie said she was still in a coma. She didn't mention the leg. Mrs Dyer didn't linger. The reason she had called was Pilgrim. They'd found him and Harry Logan had been on the phone asking what they should do.
'What do you mean?' Annie asked.
'The horse is in a very bad way. There are broken bones, deep flesh wounds and he's lost a lot of blood. Even if they do all they can to save him and he survives, he's never going to be the same.'
'Where's Liz? Can't we get her down there?'
Liz Hammond was the vet who looked after Pilgrim and was also a family friend. It was she who had gone down to Kentucky for them last summer to check Pilgrim out before they bought him. She'd been equally smitten.
'She's away on some conference,' Mrs Dyer said. 'She's not back until next weekend.'
'Logan wants to put him down?'
'Yes. I'm sorry Annie. Pilgrim's under sedation now and Harry says he may not even come around. He'd like your authority to put him down.'
'You mean shoot him?' She heard herself doing it again, hammering away at irrelevant detail as she had just now with Robert. What the hell did it matter how they were going to kill the horse?
'By injection, I imagine.'
'And what if I say no?'
There was a pause at the other end.
'Well, I suppose they'd have to try and get him somewhere they could operate on him. Cornell maybe.' She paused again. 'Apart from anything else Annie, it would end up costing you a lot more than he's insured for.'
It was the mention of money that clinched it for Annie, for the thought had yet to coalesce that there might be some connection between the life of this horse and the life of her daughter.
'I don't care what the hell it costs,' she snapped and she could feel the older woman flinch. 'You tell Logan if he kills that horse, I'll sue him.'
She hung up.
'Come on. You're okay, come on.'
Koopman was walking backward down the slope, waving the truck on with both arms. It reversed slowly down after him into the trees and the chains hanging from the hoist on its rear end swung and clinked as it came. It was the truck that the mill people had standing by to unload their new turbines and Koopman had commandeered it, and them, for this new purpose. Following close behind it was a big Ford pickup hitched to an open-top trailer. Koopman looked over his shoulder to where Logan and a small
'Which leg?'
'The right.'
'How far above the knee?'
'Jesus Christ Annie! What the hell does it matter?' He pulled away from her, freeing himself, wiping his wet face with the back of a hand.
'Well, it matters quite a lot I think.' She was astonishing even herself. He was right, of course it didn't matter. It was academic, ghoulish even, to pursue it but she wasn't going to stop now. 'Is it just above the knee or is she losing the top of her leg as well?'
'Just above the knee. I haven't got the exact measurements but why don't you just go on down and I'm sure they'll let you have a look.'
He turned away to the window and Annie stood watching as he took out a handkerchief and did a proper job on the mucus and tears, angry at himself now for having wept. There were footsteps in the corridor behind her.
'Mrs Maclean?'
Annie turned. A young nurse, all in white, darted a look at Robert and decided Annie was the one to talk to.
'There's a call for you.'
The nurse led the way, walking in small rapid steps, her white shoes making no sound on the shining tiled floor of the corridor so that she seemed to Annie to be gliding. She showed Annie to a phone near the reception desk and put the call through from the office.
It was Joan Dyer from the stables. She apologized for calling and asked nervously after Grace. Annie said she was still in a coma. She didn't mention the leg. Mrs Dyer didn't linger. The reason she had called was Pilgrim. They'd found him and Harry Logan had been on the phone asking what they should do.
'What do you mean?' Annie asked.
'The horse is in a very bad way. There are broken bones, deep flesh wounds and he's lost a lot of blood. Even if they do all they can to save him and he survives, he's never going to be the same.'
'Where's Liz? Can't we get her down there?'
Liz Hammond was the vet who looked after Pilgrim and was also a family friend. It was she who had gone down to Kentucky for them last summer to check Pilgrim out before they bought him. She'd been equally smitten.
'She's away on some conference,' Mrs Dyer said. 'She's not back until next weekend.'
'Logan wants to put him down?'
'Yes. I'm sorry Annie. Pilgrim's under sedation now and Harry says he may not even come around. He'd like your authority to put him down.'
'You mean shoot him?' She heard herself doing it again, hammering away at irrelevant detail as she had just now with Robert. What the hell did it matter how they were going to kill the horse?
'By injection, I imagine.'
'And what if I say no?'
There was a pause at the other end.
'Well, I suppose they'd have to try and get him somewhere they could operate on him. Cornell maybe.' She paused again. 'Apart from anything else Annie, it would end up costing you a lot more than he's insured for.'
It was the mention of money that clinched it for Annie, for the thought had yet to coalesce that there might be some connection between the life of this horse and the life of her daughter.
'I don't care what the hell it costs,' she snapped and she could feel the older woman flinch. 'You tell Logan if he kills that horse, I'll sue him.'
She hung up.
'Come on. You're okay, come on.'
Koopman was walking backward down the slope, waving the truck on with both arms. It reversed slowly down after him into the trees and the chains hanging from the hoist on its rear end swung and clinked as it came. It was the truck that the mill people had standing by to unload their new turbines and Koopman had commandeered it, and them, for this new purpose. Following close behind it was a big Ford pickup hitched to an open-top trailer. Koopman looked over his shoulder to where Logan and a small
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