Page 74 of Waiting for Ru
When Jasim pulled him into his arms, Ru struggled for a moment, but not for long.
“Don’t cry,” Jasim whispered.
“I don’t cry. Not much. Now you’ve made me cry so you have to stop me crying. And if you’re worried about being seen, there’s probably some astronaut from the International Space Station staring down at us through his binoculars thinking how hot we look and how mean you are.”
Jasim gave a short laugh. “You do know—”
“Yes, I know. I made that up to make you smile.”
Jasim held his head and kissed his forehead. “One week to think for both of us. Don’t tell me you don’t need a week. Think about what I’ve told you. The risks to both of us. How long will you be content to be a secret?”
“I’m not going to say forever. We hardly know one another. But you are the first man I’ve ever touched. And I want to do more touching.”
Jasim sighed.
Ru pulled him back down to the blanket. “Stop talking. Things are banjaxed when you talk. I want a kiss. That makes everything better. Let’s give the astronauts something to look at.”
Jasim kissed him. Ru was right. It made everything better.
Ru let Jasim drive him to the vet’s. After Jasim had said he wanted him to think for a week, his impulse had been to tell him he already knew what he wanted, but he could wait a week. Plus, Jasim had to practise for the match next Saturday and Ru knew how crucial it was. He didn’t let Jasim take him into the vet’s practice, but lifted his backpack from the boot and went into the building without looking back. If he had, he might have cried again.
There was a woman on the reception desk and she gave him a broad smile. “You must be Ru.”
“Yes. Hello.”
“I’m Megan. Welcome. You can leave your backpack with me and I’ll lock it up. Leigh’s in the barn. I’ll take you over there.”
“That’ll be grand. Thank you.”
Over the next few hours, Ru felt as if he’d been caught up in a whirlwind. Merriweather Equine Services was huge, with eighteen vets and twenty-five nurses, stable and office staff. Leigh was one of the two senior partners and he’d almost immediately passed Ru over to Debs, an equine nurse who’d showed him round and introduced him to people. There was zero chance Ru would remember everyone’s name. Debs had rattled through the services they offered: routine healthcare, passports, microchipping, dental treatment, castration, reproductive care and geriatric medicine along with emergency services, and Ru wasn’t sure he’d remember all that either. But…
Oh God.He loved it. He loved everything about it and when he showed he was willing to get his hands dirty and help, he seemed to fit right in. He didn’t get any sense of not being welcome. Everyone was friendly and cheerful, and when at six, Leigh came to tell Ru he’d be taking him home with him to stay in his spare room, Ru was shocked.
“Are you sure, Dr Mitchell?” Ru asked as he collected his backpack.
“Call me Leigh and yes. We have the space, and you can travel to and from work with me. I’m not on call this week so my hours are more regular.”
Ru put his backpack into the Land Rover and climbed in the front.
“Have you enjoyed yourself?” Leigh glanced at him as he started the engine.
“It’s been fantastic.”
“So, vet or nurse?”
Ru hesitated. His heart was urging him to say vet, but his head told him to say nurse.
“I know your situation,” Leigh said. “Jasim told me. Don’t be pissed off with him.”
“Right.” Maybe it was better that people knew because it saved Ru having to explain why he had no qualifications.
“Vet school is very competitive. Although, much as you might not like to hear it, what happened to you would mean you’d perhaps have a better chance of being accepted. As long as you were academically sound.”
“You mean the admissions people might feel sorry for me?” Ru couldn’t help bristling.
“Don’t be touchy about it. You have to write a statement with your application stating why you want to be a vet and what relevant experience you have. You’d need to say how long you were looking after horses in Ireland. I’m not saying you need to tell everyone you were kidnapped and kept away from your parents for twelve years, but some people do need to know.”
“I’d be lucky if I was a fully qualified vet by the time I was thirty.”
