I waited in vain for Janice to call, she certainly didn’t on Sunday. I wanted to know who was Jemima’s doctor. I thought she’d left me the information, but when I checked the envelope was empty. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, she’d been so busy, dashing off to see Lawrie.

I asked Stella who we should contact and she suggested it would be a paediatrician somewhere in the main hospital. I called the paediatric department first thing on Monday, well as soon as I’d got Mima sorted.

Frustration didn’t describe how I felt, people wanted to know the ins and outs of a cat’s backside and yet they wouldn’t tell me anything. All I wanted was some advice.

“Who did you say you were?”

Okay, let’s try this one, “Lady Catherine Cameron.”

“And who did you want to speak to?”

“The secretary to the paediatrician supervising Jemima Scott.”

There was a pause and I was put through to a different person, “Hello, Dr Rose’s secretary…” At last. I explained what was happening, and she listened carefully. “I’ll need to call you back after I’ve spoken to Dr Rose,” that was it. I had finally got through to them.

Half an hour later the phone rang, it was Dr Rose. “Hello, Lady Cameron, how can I help?”

I explained the situation, and my need for his advice.

“So Jemima is improving, and you’re sort of fostering her?”

“Yes, today she was trying to crawl around the floor.”

“Goodness, she is doing well, look, bring her in this afternoon at half past one and I’ll ask one of the physios to come down as well.”

“Outpatients?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, I hope this is going to be one of those miracle recoveries. See you later, goodbye.”

I liked the sound of this man, he had a kindly voice and a caring manner. I told Jemima and she giggled and kicked her legs. Stella who’d been supervising her, offered to come with us, so I set about organising an early lunch.

I’d made fresh bread on Sunday and put in another batch to cook while we were out. With Jemima, we were eating even more bread than before, or was it simply Tom and Simon, wolfing it down.

I did us a cottage pie, well I defrosted it–it was one I’d made earlier and frozen. I did some veg and we ate an hour before we were due at the hospital. Mima was now continent of both faeces and urine, Stella had removed her catheter, and she was pleased to show us what a big girl she was, even though we had to carry her to the loo. I was feeling so proud of her.

We arrived at the hospital and I gave Mima’s name to the receptionist, she phoned someone and a rather nice, tall man in a white coat came out of a room and invited us in.

I lay Mima on the couch and he examined her, checking reflexes in her feet and legs. Each time she shrieked with laughter and he laughed too. “Right little girl, it looks as if you are going to make a full recovery. Now we need to build you up and get you walking again.”

I explained that I had fibbed about my name, because my real one wasn’t getting me anywhere. He laughed, but took details of where Mima was staying at Tom’s.

“How long have you got her?”

“I don’t know, her mother hasn’t phoned so I hope nothing has gone wrong out in Saudi Arabia.”

“With the father?”

“Yes, he was supposed to be rather poorly after surgery.”

“You could always call the Saudi embassy or the Foreign Office. The F.O. should know if an ex-pat has been injured. If he croaked, his widow might be glad of some positive news.”

“Yes, I’ll see if Henry has any contacts.”

“Henry?”

“Viscount Cameron, my future father in law.”

“Ah, would save some time I expect. Anyway, see physio, they’re expecting you and bring her back in a fortnight.”

“Thanks so much,” I said and we shook hands. I picked up Mima and we went off to physiotherapy, where a lady name Donna examined Mima and began to do some work with her. She then showed me what to do, and we were to do it everyday.

“What about if she wants to walk?”

“As long as she wants to, let her try, but don’t try to hurry the process. The last time I saw this little lamb, I thought she was going to end up in the mint sauce–if you take my meaning?”

“That baaaad?” I said smiling, she laughed and nodded.

Whilst Mima and I were in with Donna, Stella was trying to get hold of her father on her mobile. I pushed the wheelchair out into the corridor and Stella waved to us, Mima kicked her legs and waved back giggling.

“I have a name and a number, let’s get back to the car and try it.”

I had no better ideas, so that’s what we did. I called a Mr Pearson, who was some sort of senior flunky in the Middle East bureau. I dialled the number and a man answered. It was him. I explained the position.

“Right, as you’ll appreciate we have rather a lot of ex pats living or working in the Kingdom or Saudi Arabia. Not all of them are known to us.”

“He’s supposed to working with their defence department.”

“In which case we should know, Lawrence Scott, you said?”

“Yes, he was supposedly shot and in hospital there.”

“Not according to the computer, when did this happen?”

“Nearly a week ago.”

“Well we should have been notified within a day at most unless it was a religious holiday, but even then our blokes out there send us the info. The hospital calls them in and they do what they can and tell us what’s what. Unless there’s something hush hush about this chap, we don’t have any notification of him even being there.”

“But, but that’s impossible, I’m looking after their daughter, I took his wife to the airport.”

“Which airline?”

“BA.”

“Which day?”
So I told him, and what time the flight was suppose to depart. “You know, if I didn’t know this enquiry was kosher, I’d be sending the police round to you.”

“Whatever for?”

“I have the passenger list for that day and the one either side, there was no Janice Scott on any of them.”

“But I’m looking after their daughter?”

“Is it their kid? Looks like they’ve done a runner, unless the information you’ve been given and passed on to me is wrong somehow.”

“Surely, someone wouldn’t just dump their child on a relative stranger, would they?”

“I have no idea, Lady Cameron, but I urgently suggest you call the police.”

“Yes, I suppose I had better do that as soon as we get home.”

Stella looked alarmed, “How come as soon as you get involved, life becomes more complicated?”

“Pass. Come on, we need to get Mima home and down for a rest, she’s had a busy day.” I looked in the rear view mirror and spotted her yawning.

An hour later, I made a cup of tea for Stella and me and the two police officers who were sitting in the dining room. It was going to be a long day, and what happens if Social Services want to take Mima into care? If there is some mistake and I got something wrong about Janice and Lawrie, this is going to get very messy and Mima will never forgive me.