Because of a Rotten Fish

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Prue finds love through a dog and a rotten fish.
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Moondrift
Moondrift
2,277 Followers

Chapter 1. The Emptiness Inside

Sally the receptionist/nurse stuck her head round the door and said, "That was the last, Prue." Prudence cleaned down the examination table then washed her hands. A dog with "The Itch," a cat with an aching tooth, a snake that wouldn't eat and a budgerigar in its cage but already dead; that had been the evening's work.

She went out to the reception area where Sally was doing the last of the clearing up.

"You go and get something to eat, Prue," Sally said, "I'll finish up here."

Prue smiled her thanks and envied Sally that she would go home to the vineyard block and to husband Stan and a couple of kids. She went into the kitchen and not feeling like eating she made herself a cup of tea and sat brooding.

It had been a hard day, not because of the work load, but because it was the anniversary. It had been on this day four years ago that Jerry her husband had been killed in a glider accident. Another vet who was a glider enthusiast had taken Jerry up with him; "It's as safe as houses…safer than an international airliner," Jerry had assured her. Some houses were obviously safer than others because a clump of trees, a sudden change in wind direction and pilot misjudgement had ended Jerry's life.

Just two years of marriage to her beloved Jerry and it was all over. That hadn't been the only thing that was over. She had been carrying their child and the shock of Jerry's death had caused her to abort it.

With that double loss Prue's life seemed to come crashing down. The plans they had for their family, the veterinary practice they were going to open together, the deep love they had shared, all gone.

When she came out of hospital Prue had returned to working in Joe's practice. He and his wife had been very compassionate, but Prue's heart wasn't in the work. Had it not been for her neighbours Elise and her husband Frank, Prue thought she might have gone mad.

Those two listened to her repeating the same story again and again as she relived the moment when they had come to tell her of Jerry's death until even she could not speak the words one more time.

After a year of grieving Prue knew she had to make a change in her life - make a new start, but what, where? All around her were reminders of Jerry and the life they had planned. She knew she must get way to some new place, and it was almost pure chance that she decided it was to be Queens Bend on the banks of The Great River.

As a first step in her new life Prue had taken a holiday and had stopped off at the Queens Bend pub for lunch. There she had met Sally and family celebrating her husband's birthday together with friends. Somehow she got drawn into the festivities, but as she was to discover, Queens Bend people were like that. They drew you to them and made you a part of their lives.

It was in discussion with Sally that Prue mentioned she was a vet that led Sally to say. "I trained as a veterinary nurse and I wish we had a vet in Queens Bend. The nearest one is forty kilometres away and he's getting near retirement."

Instead of driving on as she had intended Prue booked into the pub for a couple of nights and in that time looked the little town over.

Queens Bend, as its name implies, is situated on a wide sweeping bend of the river – perhaps one of the most beautiful spots in the whole hundreds of kilometres of the river. The population of the town itself is less than a thousand people, but beyond the town were the vineyard blocks, a couple of wineries, and a bit farther out cereal growing and some mixed farming.

"This is the place," Prue had decided, and had hunted around for a suitable property to establish her practice. She looked at several places and finally settled on a house that was more expensive than she had planned for, but it was close to the river with only a bitumen road and an expanse of tree strewn reserve land between it and the river bank. From the front windows of the house the broad sandbar on the other side of the river could be seen, and often in the evenings kangaroos and wallabies would come down there to drink at the waters edge.

The house served both as residence and the place of her practice and after nearly three years Prue had established herself as "The Vet." Prior to her arrival, and because of the inconvenience of getting to the only other vet, the locals had tended to treat their animals with home remedies that often did more harm than good; now they looked with pride on "Our Vet Prue."

Finishing her tea Prue sighed and rose. She still didn't feel like eating so she wandered out of the house, across the road and stretch of park to stand on the river bank. It was late summer and in the deepening twilight the moon was rising.

She sat on a wooden bench looking out over the river. It was running slowly now, the melted snow from the mountains far upstream having long ceased its influence. She heard the plops of fish leaping to feed on hapless insects, and the screeching of corellas settling down for the night in the cliffs beyond the town.

Farther along the bank from where she sat a couple of houseboats had pulled in and there was laughter and music coming from them. Looking back at the town she saw the lights in the house windows and thought of the families behind those windows, and no doubt there were people in the pub having an evening drink or eating a meal.

The town had embraced her, but for all the friendship she received, there was a dull ache, an emptiness inside her that even in the midst of good company and conviviality would suddenly make itself felt. For even when surrounded with people, it seemed that everyone had someone; a husband, a wife, children; it was almost as if in the town of Queens Bend she was the only one who had no one to go home with, to tuck into bed with, to make love with.

Certainly she had received offers, but in that respect Queens Bend differed little from the rest of humankind. There were predatory males – husbands looking for "a bit on the side." The main difference was, that unlike living in one of the large metropolitan centres, everyone in Queens Bend would know almost before the deed who was climbing into whose bed. In any case Prue did not want that sort of relationship; but what sort of relationship did she want? She did not know the answer to that question, for having loved fully once and lost, she hesitated to risk love again.

It had grown dark and the moon was well up, its light reflecting on the river streaking the water with silver. There was a burst of laughter from one of the houseboats. A vision of her and Jerry making love and then falling asleep in each others arms came to her. A tear ran down her cheek.

She rose and made her way back to the house trying not to think of what had been and what might have been. In the house she went to the kitchen and despite the fact that she still didn't feel particularly hungry she made a sandwich and pouring herself a glass of red wine sat down to consume and meditate. This always seemed to be worst part of the day. It was okay during the working part of the day, people coming and going, animals to be seen and put right; it was the nights that were so often lonely.

She decided on an early night and a read in bed. The house had two stories; the only house in Queens Bend that boasted such lavishness. She made her way upstairs and after a shower clambered naked into her lonely bed.

She was reading for about the third time "Wuthering Heights" by Emily Bronte, with its wild landscape and brooding if often veiled sexual hunger. It was possibly not the best read on this particular day. Heathcliff's cry of desolation, "Cathy…Cathy…" dragged an echo from Prue, "Jerry….Jerry."

She let the book fall and reached into the drawer beside the bed, and taking out her vibrator she plugged it into the wall socket and placing the vibrator head against her clitoris she switched it on. She had it on its lowest setting and she lay relishing its gentle buzzing and soothing massage, so like Jerry's tender touch.

Her hand began to stroke her breast and little thrills of excitation began in her vagina. She knew this presaged her coming orgasm and she pushed the button on the vibrator to speed up its action. She started to shake as the vibrator drew her orgasm closer and she began to squeeze her nipple.

Another press on the button and the vibrator was operating at full speed. Her fingers pinched more firmly on her long pink nipple and the gasps that she had been emitting became whimpering cries, and as the full force of her orgasm struck she screamed out, "Jerry…oh Jerry…my love."

The climax passed, and with tears coursing down her cheeks she slowed the action of the vibrator and gradually the tremors diminished. She thrust the vibrator away and turning on her side she laid in a foetal position, a finger inserted into her vaginal tunnel and a hand still resting on her breast she slept, the bed light still on.

Chapter 2. A Dog, Canoeist and a Rotten Fish

She woke before dawn and lay watching the growing light slowly silver the tops of the gum trees she could see through the window. The leaves seemed to shimmer in the sunlight and she felt a hard lump pressing against a buttock. She had moved during the night and the vibrator was under her.

She rose and taking the vibrator with her she showered to remove any possible residual odour of her lubricant discharge of the previous evening and cleaned the head of the vibrator.

While dressing she reviewed the day ahead. There were computer records to be checked and if necessary to be updated. Sally would be in at nine to make sure the reception area and surgery were ready for use.

There was a Dalmatian that had swallowed a fish hook while scavenging along the river bank to be operated on. People would sometimes catch a fish they did not want and if when getting it onto the bank the line broke they would leave the hook in the fish. Scrounging dogs scenting the forbidden fruit, or rather fish, would hastily assault the prize and swallow the hook.

She breakfasted and then went for her customary brisk walk along the river bank. One of the houseboats looked closed up, the curtains drawn. "They must have made a night of it and are sleeping in late," Prue thought.

As she drew near to the other boat a man and two children were casting off the mooring ropes, the engine throbbing as it warmed up. There was a woman at the wheel who looked up at Prue, smiled and waved. The man and the children climbed aboard, the engine revved and the boat backed out into the river, turned upstream, and churned away on its journey to somewhere.

Returning to the house Sally was already there and doing something to the accounts on the computer.

It was strange, but Prue always felt as if she knew when Sally had been making love with her husband Stan the night before. She had a dreamy, relaxed look, and was more than usually pleasant to be with. She had that dreamy look now.

"Ready to started the operation?" asked Sally, "I've got it all set up."

"Good, let's get to work then."

The operation completed and their patient recovering, the morning as usual was given over to people with appointments, unless some dire emergency arose. The first in line that morning was a flatulent peke followed by a tortoise that, according to its owner was, "Off his tucker." A goldfish, that the mother of the four year old who accompanied her announced, "Hasn't been too well the last couple of days," was floating belly up in a bowl of water. It had to be pronounced dead and this drew wails of anguish from the four year old. The promise of another goldfish stemmed the lusty howls.

A dog with a grass seed stuck in its eye, a cat to have its teeth cleaned, and another cat, an emergency, that had escaped death under a car but had sustained a broken leg, brought the morning to a close. Sally tore off home because, "I like to have lunch with Stan," and Prue settled for a bowl of soup.

The Dalmatian was returning to the land of the living and was giving out little snorting whimpers. Prue was in the process of checking her work on the dog when Sally came in and said, "There's a guy just come in with his dog; he says he thinks its swallowed some poison, probably a fox bait."

"All right, send them in to the examination room," Prue said, and headed there herself.

A young man came in with a Border Collie. The animal would normally have looked very attractive but now it simply drooped, its tail between it legs and its eyes expressive of discomfort if not outright pain. It seemed barely able to stand.

"She keeps vomiting," said the young man.

Between them they lifted the dog onto the examination table and Prue began to question where the dog had been lately.

"We're travelling down the river in a canoe," the young man told her.

This was not unusual since occasionally bolder spirits began as far up river as possible and over several weeks paddled their way down to the river mouth. The young man was in complete contrast to his dog, tanned and obviously very fit, and despite her professional stance Prue felt a twinge of desire, the response of the female to an attractive male.

Prue proceeded with her questioning and finally deduced that like the hook swallowing Dalmatian this dog had also found a fish left lying on the bank, but this time no hook was involved, but decay was. The dog was suffering from food poisoning brought on by consuming a rotten fish.

An injection, some tablets, and an instruction to bring the dog back in a couple of days, drew a protest from the young man that they needed to keep moving. Prue countered by telling the young man that the dog really should be rested comfortably for a few days and ought to be seen again to ensure all was well.

Reluctantly the young man agreed that they would camp for "a few nights" near the town and Prue informed him where the town camping ground was. Prue typed details of the visit into the computer, ascertaining that the young man's name was David Baxter and the dog was Pat. He gave an address that caused Prue's eyebrows to be raised; it was one of the most affluent suburbs of the state capital.

Her surprise was partly because the worn jeans and T-shirt that David wore did not seem to accord with an affluent background, but of course, one would hardly wear a tailored suit to paddle a canoe for weeks down river.

Chapter 3. Man with Atmosphere

Prue had been mainly concerned with the dog that now seemed to be asleep on the examination table, but she now took a closer look at David. He was of middle height and build, perhaps five feet nine or ten with auburn hair, and now having been relieved of some of his anxiety about Pat, had a cheerful aspect.

Prue tried to make up her mind whether or not he was good looking and finally decided that perhaps he was, but her decision was based not so much on his physical features as an aura of seemingly unselfconscious sensuality he seemed to radiate. She found this slightly disturbing especially since David had not by word or glance implied a sexual interest in her, and that was not always the case with some of the men she met, since she was definitely very sexually attractive.

Normally Prue could ignore the hot glances and risqué comments, but now, even in the absence of such glances and comments, she felt a stirring in the region of her inguen. She became flustered by her response to David's presence and made great play of putting more details into the computer, making a number of errors as she did so.

She accompanied him to reception and he seemed to have a similar effect on Sally, who flushed as she dealt with the bill.

Prue could have understood her own reaction since she had been, as it were, a veterinary nun since Jerry's death, but the happily married and apparently well serviced Sally?

David thanked them politely, smiled, picked up Pat who had gone to sleep on the floor, and carrying her in his arms, made his way out. Prue, Sally and an elderly lady waiting with her dog stared after him seemingly spellbound.

Sally was the first to recover and said, "Phew, he's got something. I don't know what it is, but definitely something."

Prue who had recovered her professional stance said nothing, but the elderly lady laughed and said, "You don't meet many of them, but when you do you get trembles up your spine."

Prue excused herself, saying to the elderly lady, "Just go into the examination room and I'll be with you in a minute." Then she fled upstairs to change her panties as the crotch of those she was wearing were uncomfortably wet.

While examining the dog's rather ancient teeth Prue was regaled by the elderly lady with advice regarding men like David.

"They're the ones you've got to watch out for, love. The noisy macho ones who come on strong are easy to handle, but quiet ones like that young fellow can be dangerous for a girl." She giggled a trifle girlishly and went on, "I've known a couple in my lifetime like him, thank God, and both of them had the same thing in common."

"What?" asked Prue, trying to sound casual.

"Ah, well," said the elderly lady who was giggling again, "I don't like to say, but get too close to that fellow and you'll find out. The funny thing is it gets to you even when you don't know what it is. It's like it gives them a sort of atmosphere, but don't ask me how or why."

Dignity combined with concentration on scraping the dog's teeth free of tarter deterred Prue from pursuing this mysterious subject further, but David kept popping into her mind throughout the rest of the afternoon.

Chapter 4. Getting to Know You

After the evening clinic and a quick meal Prue decided on a twilight stroll along the river bank. Somehow her feet seemed to turn in the direction of the town camping area, "Just to see if he found the place all right and that he's got everything he needs," she told herself.

Still being summer and for many the holiday season, there were a number of caravans and tents on the site. Prue thought that unless she made an obvious search it would be difficult to find David, but in fact she came upon him quickly.

He had a small tent right near the river's edge and his canoe was pulled up beside it. He was sitting on the grass and, to her professional satisfaction, an obviously much recovered Pat sat beside him.

"Good evening," Prue said.

"Hello, didn't expect to see you again so soon," he smiled.

"How's Pat? She looks a lot better."

"Yes, thanks to you. She had something to eat and didn't bring is straight up again."

Prue brushed her hand over the dog's head and was rewarded by a tail wag and a lick on the hand.

Since Pat seemed recovered it was on the tip of Prue's tongue to say, "Unless she shows the symptoms again, you needn't bring her back," but instead she said, "I'd still like to see her, just to check her."

"Sure; I think the break will be good for both of us. I'm afraid I got a bit obsessive about getting down the river as fast as I could, heaven knows why...I mean, we are on holiday. Sorry I can't offer you a seat." She saw the flash of white teeth in the half light as he smiled at her."

It was happening again; the strange aura, or "atmosphere" as the elderly lady had called it, seemed to emanate from him and draw her in, causing throbbing sensations to course through her body, but focusing mainly in the region of her pudendum. Again it was nothing he had said or done, it was just…what had the elderly lady said? "The funny thing is it gets to you even when you don't know what it is."

She intended to say "goodnight" and pass on, but instead she sat down near him on the grass. Pat moved to lie near her, gazing up at her. "Have you got everything you need?" she asked.

"Oh yes, we're fine," David replied.

Moondrift
Moondrift
2,277 Followers