17 Mar 2026
Mark Turner BVSc, MRCVS shares the eighth part of this story, in which Margaret softens and Lou helps diffuse Ali’s work worries.
Mark Turner
Job Title
Image: ATRPhoto / Adobe Stock
Margaret passed Alison the basket. “There you go, and thanks for staying on tonight, I really appreciate it,” she said.
“Oh, no problem.”
Margaret paused and then added: “You’re doing well, Ali. The clients love you and you’re a hit with the nurses, too.”
“Am I really?”
“Yes, really. Well done, I mean it.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“Ali, I’ve been meaning to say for a while that I’m sorry if I was a little… unhelpful to begin with. That business with the diabetic cat.”
“Do you mean Socks?”
Margaret paused. “Yes, Socks. I could have been a little less, er, hostile.”
“Oh, that’s okay.”
“Did I seem a bit rude? Hostile?”
“Maybe a bit,” Ali bowed her head. “Yeah.”
They looked at one another. For a moment, Ali thought she could see a tear gathering in the corner of Margaret’s eye before it disappeared again, over a horizon.
“I appreciate your honesty, I really do.”
“Oh, sorry, Sooty, we’re forgetting about you.” Alison glanced down. “I, er, better take this little one out.”
In reception, Alison quickly found Mrs Lennon. “There you are. We’ll see you for a check up next week?”
A man stepped through the front door and held it open as Mrs Lennon left, closing it carefully afterwards. His hair was black and fell in waves; he looked nervous, poised, like one of Mr Lee’s German shepherds.
“Hello, do you have an appointment?” asked Alison.
“Oh no, it’s fine. I”m just waiting for Louise.” He smiled briefly, efficiently.
Sharon appeared at the desk and said: “Oh hi, James.”
Is that James, Louise’s boyfriend? Ali thought. Really? She glanced at him again. He was pale with deep-set eyes, slim and fit-looking.
Ali wanted to enjoy the end of evening surgery, the slap of the closed sign hitting the window, but James had changed all that. Deflated, she walked back into her room and started throwing biros into a drawer, half-listening to Sharon: “How’s your mum doing, J?”
“Yeah, good thanks. She’s back home now, so, yeah…”
“I bet her dogs are happy to see her.”
“Yes,” he said, trying to chuckle.
Then, Louise’s voice: “Hi, babe.”
“Hi, sugar.”
Alison froze, gripping a ruler. She could feel blood rushing to her face. God, at least no one can see me.
Lou burst in. “Ali, come and meet James.”
“Oh, yeah, just give me a minute. Bloody table cleaner.” She ripped some paper towel from the dispenser and followed Louise out.
“Nice to, er, meet you, officially,” she said quietly.
“Hi, Alison, likewise. Louise has told me so much about you… all nice things, of course.” The same smile.
A mixture of feelings rushed through her, like a strong cocktail. Jealousy, anger, loneliness. “Erm, oh, thanks.”
“Anyway, I’m going to have to go in a minute. Just wanted to drop by on my way.”
He turned round as they left and said: “Good to put a name to a face, Alison. Have a good night tomorrow.”
The thought of spending a whole evening with Louise was a consolation as Ali watched them link arms in the car park. Another chance to talk about work and have a few drinks, maybe even a film back at her flat, too. Something dark like Joker; Ali definitely wasn’t in the mood for a rom-com anymore.
***
“What do you think of him?” Lou asked as they stood at the bar. The man was looking down at his phone, the white light catching on his forehead.
Ali curled a lip. “Too young.”
“You all right? You seem a bit, you know…”
“Oh, sorry, still thinking about work. That cat with the foreign body, I hope he’s doing okay.”
“He”ll be fine. I thought he looked comfortable when you discharged him.”
“Yeah, that’s true. Sometimes I just can’t stop worrying. My head just goes round and round, did I place enough stitches? Did I do this, did I do that? Do you know what I mean?”
“Of course. But all you can do is your best, and if something happens, well, we’ll get through it. I’m always here for you.”
Something jumped in Ali’s stomach. She was getting used to it now. In the background, a new song started. A familiar guitar that built, louder and louder – they looked at one another.
“Oh my God.” Louise raised her hands high into the air. “I love this tune.”
As a group of people moved on to the dance floor, slowly Ali could feel her worries dissolving. Oh, why not? And she joined Louise. Everything was okay, she was okay. The job was hard, stressful, but Lou was right: I’m simply doing my best.
They sang the lyrics together, “I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away. Ricochet, you take your aim, fire away, fire away.”
The disco lights were like shooting stars in the night sky, and Lou’s face was the moon, shining bright, and pulling Ali slowly towards her. She thought about her job: in the early days, there had been times when it felt like a big dark hole, all meaning gone. Now that Margaret was more friendly and really trying to help her, Ali’s optimism was slowly returning – with every conversation they had, she was getting stronger, less afraid.
“You shoot me down, but I won’t fall, I am titanium.” And then almost screaming: “You shoot me down, but I won’t fall, I am ti…tan…iiuumm.”
At the end, they hugged; a proper hug, not like on their first night out. “Thank you,” said Ali.
“Don’t be stupid. I haven’t felt like this in, well, forever.” Their heads were together.
Out of breath and giggling, they swayed back to their drinks.
“God, I need to get down the gym; can’t hack the pace anymore.” Louise looked down into her glass. Ali watched as her friend walked to the edge of something.
“Hey, snap out of it.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m sure Abi would be happy to know that you’re enjoying yourself, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Yeah.” Louise pulled on her vodka. “It’s getting better.” She smiled warmly, her mascara the tidemark of a painful memory. “So, what’s the plan when this place closes?”
“Back to mine for a coffee and a crappy film? Am I selling it to you?” Ali screwed up her face.
“Sounds perfect. Nothing I’d rather do, and nowhere I’d rather be.”
“Great. What do you fancy watching? Bridesmaids?”
More from this series
Mark Turner graduated as a vet from the University of Liverpool in 1996 and has a master’s degree from the RVC in patient safety culture. He has interests in quality improvement, team dynamics and workplace well-being.