Medical Emergency

Just our luck. A few days after Monica was savaged by a rampaging donkey, her hand turned septic. Overnight it blew up like a football. I must say, I had not been that sympathetic, but the sight of her hand looking like a rubber glove inflated to an enormous size with fingers like sausages, all bright red and throbbing was not pretty. I called Jeff, my source of all local information, and he said take her along to Dr Ciseau, the village quack. Apparently you have to grab him between gauloise and it is true that his surgery smells like a pub after a heavy Saturday night. But he’s meant to be “sympa” and doesn’t chuck you out after five minutes. Anyway, we trotted along and after a lot of sniffing and squeezing – Monica yelped a few times – he gave her a shot of something in her behind and handed over a prescription. All for 23 Euros which seems pretty cheap. You’d have to take out a hefty mortgage in the UK. Then it was along to the pharmacy. It’s the most modern building in the village, all neon and plate glass. Monica ended up with about fifteen items to swallow, dab on and bind up. M. Marteau, the chemist, speaks some rather comical English and was very keen that we understood precisely what to do with all the medications her handed over. Quite amazing.

This business has certainly got me a bit annoyed and I shot off an email to Nora and Harold to the effect that their wretched donkeys are dangerous. I mean, all poor Monica did was offer one of the things a carrot and now look at her. The tone of my email obviously got under Nora’s skin because she shot one almost straight back – she must spend a lot of time crouching over her computer – accusing us of “annoying and upsetting” her precious donkeys. To top it all, she said it was us who owed her an apology, not the other way round. Clearly the woman is a potential menace and we need to keep out of her way, though, according to Jeff, that won’t be easy as she has a finger in many a pie. The village, it seems, can be a nest of vipers, what with her, Reggie the embezzler and M. Coq, the mayor. No doubt there will be others. Tant pis, as they say here.