Summer with the Country Village Vet Page 6

  ‘That’s the trouble with these modern plain carpets, you need a pattern dear, hides a multitude of sins.’

  Maybe that’s what her busy job had done, hidden the cracks in her life, but she didn’t want to ponder on that one. What was the point? ‘I like plain.’ Keep it simple. ‘Anyway, this job will be different, I don’t need to commute.’

  ‘And I hope you won’t need to be working those long hours any more. When I was your age…’

  Lucy gritted her teeth, but some part of the retort she was biting back must have escaped and travelled over the airwaves. Her mum might not have worked long hours at her age, but she’d made up for it later on in life. Surely it was better to put all the effort in now? To be independent and secure.

  ‘Well yes I suppose times have changed.’ She could imagine her mother’s pursed lips. ‘But you work too hard, being a teacher used to be a nice job for a girl and now it’s all rushing round and paperwork. I always wanted an easier life for you, love.’

  ‘All jobs are like that, it’s about accountability.’ And Ofsted.

  ‘Well that is nice anyway dear,’ she could tell her mother was about to brush over that. ‘It’ll be nice for you to get out of the city for a bit. You did have fun when you were little in Stoneyvale, do you remember?’

  ‘It was horrible. I hated it.’ The words were out before she could stop them.

  ‘Oh, Lucy.’ Lucy felt a pang of guilt at the regret in her mother’s voice. ‘You didn’t hate it. There were some good times, I used to love our time feeding the ducks, and picking you up from school. It was a pretty place, even if life wasn’t quite as perfect as I’d hoped.’ She sighed. ‘You were such a happy toddler.’

  ‘Yeah, and then I grew up.’ And life had been turned upside down, and all her friends turned out to be nasty, small-minded people who only cared about themselves.

  ‘It wasn’t all bad, Lucy.’

  ‘Mum, I didn’t belong there, I didn’t have any friends.’

  ‘Oh you did, darling. It was just, after your party when your father got a bit cross I think some of their parents thought it better if they didn’t come round to play. He just didn’t like…’

  ‘The mess, yeah I know.’ She’d blocked that party out of her mind. Dad had been so cross to come home and find sticky finger marks on the table, and cake crumbs on the sofa. He hadn’t shouted like some of the other dads did, he’d just laid the law down very softly. Even as a child she’d sensed the slight menace, the uncomfortable air as her mother had wiped her tears and shooed her up to her room. She hadn’t thought about it before, but that was probably when it had all started to go wrong. When children stopped coming round to play in their garden. When all the party invites started to dry up.

  ‘He never really wanted me to have people round, did he?’

  ‘Well no,’ there was a crackle and silence, and she wasn’t sure if it was a bad line. She hated silence, silence at home had always meant bad things, so she’d grown up wanting what some people would think of as chaos.

  ‘Mum, are you still there?’

  ‘I am. But you still had friends, didn’t you dear?’ There was a hopeful note to her mother’s tone which she didn’t want to kill. So she didn’t say anything. ‘You saw the others at school. There was lovely little Amy, and…’

  ‘Exactly.’ She sighed. ‘Just lovely little Amy, and even that was an act.’

  ‘Lucy, it wasn’t you, your dad…’

  ‘Forget it, Mum. I have. Langtry Meadows isn’t Stoneyvale, and I’m only there for a few weeks, I like working in the city.’ She did. It was less claustrophobic, more impersonal. Where people came and went, where nobody was an outsider.

  ‘Anyway,’ her mother’s voice regained its normal no-nonsense brisk edge, the ‘let’s make the most of life’ tone. ‘A bit of country air will do you good, you’ve been looking a bit peaky lately. A change is as good as a rest, as they say.’

  Lucy chatted to her mum for a bit longer then pressed the end call button and stared at her phone, suddenly wishing that she hadn’t told her mum to forget it.

  She hadn’t, she couldn’t.

  There were questions that had peeked their heads over the self-protective barrier she’d built around herself as she’d driven home. Questions about her dad she’d never dared ask. Questions that the absolute peace and quiet of Langtry Meadows had poked out of their slumber at the back of her mind. Questions about the almost obsessive tidiness that her father had insisted on.

  It hadn’t hit her until today just how different their new life had been. As though her mum had been determined to wipe every last trace of Stoneyvale out of her system.

  But maybe it was time she tried to move on. To shift the ache that had settled in the centre of her chest once and for all.

  Chapter 3

  Charlie stared at the small white van. Whoever had parked, or should that be abandoned it, at such a crazy angle, couldn’t have done a better job of blocking him out if they’d tried.

  He was knackered. All he wanted was half an hour’s peace with his feet up and a cup of coffee before his patients for the day started to arrive – and some delivery man had decided there was nothing wrong with blocking the entrance to his surgery.

  His day had started at 5 a.m, a farm dog had been run over, and despite battling with every bit of experience and knowledge he had, they’d lost it. However long he did the job, he hated that bit.

  Losing a battle to save a life that was ending far too early always left him feeling he’d failed. Owners that understood and thanked him destroyed him even more. They shouldn’t have to be thanking somebody for losing the battle, and along with the sour taste in his mouth there was always the curdling doubt in the pit of his stomach. What if he’d missed something obvious? What if he’d acted quicker?

  The farmer had offered sweet tea, and a bacon sandwich, apologising for calling him out at such an ungodly hour. He’d not wanted to churn out the same old words – for the best, not suffering now – but he had because he didn’t know what else to say.

  He clambered out of his car, feeling drained, and marched towards the van. One of the benefits of living in a village was the lack of road rage, nobody was ever in that much of a hurry. The worst that could happen was that you had to follow a herd of cows down a lane as they ambled from field to farm, which he had found slightly frustrating the first week he’d been back here, then he’d realised he just had to go with the flow. In fact, he walked now whenever he could – but most farms visits meant taking the car.

  ‘I can’t get in my car park.’ He rounded the open door, just as a girl backed out at speed, dragging a large cardboard box with her. Without thinking he grabbed her waist with one hand, and the van door with the other to stop them toppling.

  She glanced up.

  Oh shit, he’d been here before. In a tight clinch. Her soft lips were slightly parted, eyes wide staring straight into his own, his hands were only inches from her breasts. And he had an almost uncontrollable urge to kiss her.

  Again.

  It was the girl he’d nearly flattened by the village green. The teacher.

  The one who’d asked him to go into school. The one who’d irrationally sprung to mind every time he walked past the village school – wondering when she’d be back.

  Last time he’d had his hands on her he could have blamed the surge of adrenaline for the way his body had reacted, but he’d have been lying to himself because it was doing exactly the same this time round.

  The smell of her perfume, the brush of her soft skin against his cheek, and the gently quivering body pressed against his had turned him on something rotten. And she’d known. From what he remembered he’d solved the problem last time by practically throwing her back into the road. And now he was staring at her like a simpleton. Which he could, being logical, put down to lack of sleep, and emotional upset.

  She blinked, and pulled herself together before he could. ‘Oh hi, it’s you. We must stop meeting like
this.’ She looked down pointedly and he realised he still had hold of her.

  ‘Sorry, er I’m not in the habit of…’ He let go, waved his hands in the air, glanced down to save the embarrassment of looking her straight in the eye. ‘Good God, what are those?’

  Bright pink wellingtons, which were more than just bright, they were positively glowing. They were ridiculous, but they suited her, in a cute kind of way. Oh God, what was he thinking? Cute? Where had that come from? He didn’t even call day old kittens cute.

  He glanced back up and she was grinning. She lifted a foot. ‘These? Awesome aren’t they? They’re my secret weapon. If I don’t wear them I’m in trouble. Serious GBH type of trouble.’ She wrinkled her nose. How had he missed her slightly upturned nose last time they’d met?

  He swallowed, trying to ignore the way the rest of her body had jiggled, and the dancing light in her eyes. It had obviously been far too long since he’d had a soft female form pressed against his (apart from hers). Maybe his self-imposed ban was a mistake, it was turning him into a horny old man.

  ‘They’re Annie’s actually.’ For a moment he was confused, then focussed back on the wellingtons again. That figured, yep now she mentioned it he had seen Annie parading round the village in them. But on Annie they looked quite different. Unremarkable. ‘Her goose Gertie is imprinted on them, and without these I’d be mincemeat. Imprinting, you know they were the first thing…’

  ‘I do know what imprinting is.’

  A flush tinged her cheekbones. Now what had made him shoot her down like that? He was being a patronising git now. Why couldn’t he just be friendly? But it was just, he hadn’t felt this drawn to somebody for a long, long time, not since he’d met Josie. Not since the most precious person in his life had appeared, not since he’d fallen madly, wildly, in love in a way he hadn’t thought existed… and this was his way of making sure it didn’t happen again. He blinked, and tried to concentrate on what she was saying.

  ‘Ah yes, of course, you’re a vet. Well at the moment these are a lifesaver, talking of which,’ she avoided his eye, ‘thanks for er, saving me the other week, when I came for my interview.’

  ‘No problem. Look I don’t want to be rude, but I really do need to get in, I’ve got work to do. If you could just straighten it up, move over a bit.’

  ‘Oh, right, sure. Isn’t it a bit early for work?’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’d never normally get up at this time, but I knew it would take me hours to move all my stuff into Annie’s, and I didn’t think I’d be in anybody’s way. Or do you all get up at the crack of dawn round here?’ Her eyes were twinkling, and he could have sworn she was teasing now.

  ‘I prefer a lie in to be honest, but when there’s an emergency.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Oh no. Was everything okay?’ She’d stopped smiling.

  ‘Not really.’ He sighed. ‘Look I need a coffee,’ he’d been a git, surely he could at least have some manners and be a bit welcoming, ‘fancy one?’

  ‘You’ve no idea how good that sounds, I feel like I’ve done a day’s work already. I’ll pull the van up a bit so you can get in.’

  ‘So,’ Lucy wrapped her hands round the mug of coffee and stared at him, her head on one side. ‘You’re only here temporarily, like me?’

  ‘I’m hoping so.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘The place is that bad?’

  He grinned, he couldn’t help it. ‘No, it’s not bad, but coming back here wasn’t part of my life plan.’

  She leant forward conspiratorially. ‘Don’t tell anybody, but it wasn’t on mine either. So, where are you heading next?’

  ‘Now that is the million dollar question.’ He’d already been doing what he wanted, and when he lost that, for a while he felt like he’d lost everything. ‘Well, when I sold my town centre veterinary practice I had a vague idea of taking a few months off, before setting up somewhere else, faraway. Like Australia.’

  ‘Oh.’ She looked slightly shocked. ‘Major deviation from the plan then. So, what made you come back here?’

  ‘Family pressure.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I hadn’t made any firm plans, and my dad cornered me. He told me about Eric, I thought it would be pretty selfish to refuse. Dad and Eric were big buddies.’

  ‘Ahh.’

  ‘He said he was in a real mess, could be off work for months. As Dad pointed out I do know Langtry Meadows and the people, and about running a practice of my own. It was hard to say no.’ But that had just been the beginning of the charm offensive. ‘You’d just be able to walk in and get straight down to it,’ his father had said. ‘This isn’t charity, Charles. The man needs support, and he’d much rather hand the reins over to somebody he knows, than pull in some random Tom, Dick or Harriet vet from an agency. Go and see him. He’s still in hospital.’ And even as he’d tried to object, he knew he hadn’t really got any choice.

  ‘I bet your dad was pleased, and it sounds like you’re popular in the village.’

  ‘He was, and so was my mother, she didn’t like the idea of me at a loose end, or going to Australia.’ He knew they cared. But he really hadn’t planned on this, creeping back to the village with his tail between his legs, admitting he’d failed – had lost it all. ‘I wasn’t actually at a loose end,’ they swapped an understanding look, ‘I was considering my options. But you know what mothers can be like.’ He paused, took a gulp of his coffee. ‘I think this is actually more of a trip down memory lane for Dad than me, he misses the place. Started to ramble on, asked me if I remembered the time when Ed Wright had chicken pox and was convinced he had foot and mouth. He said the little idiot was sure they were going to throw him in a pit and cover him with lime, he disappeared up the fields and hid. The whole village had to go out searching for him.’

  Lucy giggled, which sent a shiver down his spine. ‘And did you remember?’

  ‘Did I hell!’ He’d let his father reminisce, let the words flow over him, and wondered how on earth he’d ended up losing everything he’d worked for. One day he’d got his bright, shiny, efficient town centre practice handling referrals and money-no-object operations, and the next he had somehow agreed to bury himself back in Langtry Meadows in a tiny, old-fashioned veterinary practice.

  ‘But you’re happy you came back?’

  ‘Well I haven’t really thought about it,’ he paused, ‘but yes, yes it’s a nice place and who needs time off work anyway when you can be dragged out of bed at 4 a.m. and stick your arm up a cow’s rear?’

  She was laughing again. He didn’t know why, but he seemed to be trying to amuse her. And he seemed to be rambling on, it was far too easy to talk to her. Any second now and he’d be spilling all his sordid secrets.

  ‘True, and in Australia you’d miss the mud and frosty mornings.’

  ‘Would I?’ Langtry Meadows was perfect in many ways though, well one big way. It was miles from his old stomping ground and the practice he’d run with his ex-wife. Miles from any reminders that the cosy life he’d thought they’d built up had existed only in his imagination. Even miles from his suffocatingly concerned family who’d moved from the village to somewhere ‘more convenient’ when his father retired. ‘What about you?’ He needed to head the conversation in another direction. ‘Are you looking forward to working here?’

  ‘Oh yes, well I think so. I mean it wasn’t what I’d planned on doing, but everybody seems lovely, and it’s such a gorgeous place. To be honest, I didn’t really have any option.’ She hesitated. ‘Look, sorry for pestering about the school visit thing last time we met.’ She looked apologetic now, rather than demanding. ‘I didn’t mean to be pushy, I just had Jim prodding me in the back. It’s the first thing they’ve asked me to do, and I don’t like to fail.’

  There was a question in her voice. ‘Look, I’m sorry too if we got off on the wrong foot.’ He couldn’t help but glance down at the pink wellies again. ‘But it’s really not something I can help with.’

  She was looking at him, like a spaniel deprived of its bal
l. Can’t or won’t, said the look – she was too kind to voice it. He was doing his best to avoid eye contact, but still felt a heel. He couldn’t though, just the thought of standing in front of those hopeful, innocent faces made him come over hot, then cold. He wasn’t the only loser in this mess he’d made of his life, and that was the bit that made him feel totally useless. Helpless.

  Her gaze hadn’t wavered. ‘It’s just I’ve got my hands full with the surgery.’ To her it was just a simple request. But it was asking him to expose his heart, to lay himself open to yet more hurt and he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t do it yet – and certainly not in front of the watching eyes of the whole village. Teenagers he could have coped with, the WI, the teachers. Just not a class full of primary school kids, expectant smiling faces. Kids that were at that age when they trusted adults, thought they could solve every problem in the world. He closed his eyes for a second, and the image that snuck its way into every dream, every nightmare, was there. A giggling little girl. Auburn curls soft as clouds around her angelic face. Large brown eyes gazing straight into his. Innocent, unknowing. Trusting.

  He couldn’t do it.

  ‘They don’t bite. Not like some of your patients.’ Her lips curved into a seductive smile, but he was pretty sure she was just trying to lighten the mood, not drag him off to bed – that was wishful thinking on his side.

  ‘No.’ He swallowed down the clawing pain in his throat and hoped to God he looked more normal than he felt. ‘It’s just,’ what was he supposed to say? ‘This place can feel a bit claustrophobic.’

  ‘Villages can.’ Those two words had an unexpected depth to them, she said that as though she knew.

  ‘Everybody in each other’s pockets and I would rather like to keep a professional distance.’ And that was the truth, up to a point.

  She nodded, looking thoughtful, then sighed. ‘Yes, I can understand that.’ And there was something in her eyes that convinced him she did. She was a bit of an outsider as well, and he had a feeling that despite all the smiles she wasn’t entirely comfortable about being here. ‘It’s okay, don’t worry I’ll think of something.’ She twisted her lips to one side as though she was thinking. ‘But Jim swore blind that asking any other vet was out of bounds.’