‘So I can’t ride him because he’s got a sore foot,’ says Lucie. ‘You haven’t tried your cake yet, Maz,’ she adds.
‘I’m sure it’s very nice,’ I say.
‘Lucie, will you run along and lock up the hens,’ Sophia says. ‘Maz and I are going to have a grown-up chat.’ Lucie hesitates. ‘Go on, before the fox gets them.’
Lucie disappears, leaving me face to face with Sophia.
‘I’ve had time to reflect,’ Sophia begins, ‘and I’ve realised that the difficulty between us arises from the fact we’re from different generations. I find it hard to accept a baby born out of wedlock, but I know I have to change with the times. Maz, I’m deeply sorry for what I’ve said in the past. Naturally, I can’t speak for my husband, but I’d like – I’d very much like – to get to know him, or her, as well as I know Lucie and Sebastian.’
‘This isn’t only about me and the baby. What about Alex? You and Old Fox-Gifford, you’re his parents, he’s your only child and yet you’re prepared to disown him because he chose me. I’m not ashamed of where I came from and I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. I don’t need your approval. The baby and I’ – I’m not sure I can speak for Alex as well – ‘we don’t need you in our lives.’
‘Every now and then I have to remind my husband of what Alexander has done for him. Without him, there’d be no practice. There’s no way he’ll cut our son out of his inheritance. No, Alexander will receive what he’s due.’ Sophia pauses. ‘This isn’t about money, though. This is about grandparents having access to their grandchild. The generations can learn so much from each other, don’t you agree?’
‘I don’t know about that,’ I say, and I begin to wonder what I missed as a child. I have vague recollections of my grandparents. There was my grandfather on my mother’s side who sat in his chair glued to the TV all day, and my grandmother on my father’s side – Nan, I called her – who visited once a week, slipping me a pound each time, until she fell out with my mother, blaming her for my father’s disappearance. She accused her of hiring a hit man to ‘do him in’. She’d never believe her precious son would walk out on his family.
‘I’d like to teach it to ride. The Pony Club’s always in need of new blood.’
‘Well, I’m not sure,’ I begin.
‘A baby should be with its family, not a nanny,’ Sophia says, in desperation. ‘Please. It’s very important to me … To all of us. I’ve said things I shouldn’t …’ Sophia stares into her teacup. When she looks up again, her eyes are glistening with tears. ‘I’d love and care for your baby as much as I do Lucie and Sebastian, if you’ll let me. I promise.’
Her speech is enough to melt the polar ice caps, and I find my resolve weakening.
‘All right, Sophia,’ I say.
‘I’ll be the perfect grandparent. I won’t take over, or tell you what to do,’ she goes on.
‘Sophia, I said, “All right.” Yes, you can see the baby.’
‘Really? Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you.’
For a moment I’m afraid she’s going to leap up and kiss me, but Lucie returns, cantering back into the room as if she’s riding a pony.
‘I’ve shut them in, Humpy,’ she says, whinnying as she comes to a halt in the centre of the Axminster. ‘The chickens have gone to bed.’ Her eyes settle on the cake >in my hand. I peel off the case and take a bite. It’s sweet, crumbly and delicious. I nod my approval and Lucie utters a happy snort.
‘I was just telling Maz how we can’t wait to welcome this new half-brother or -sister into the family,’ Sophia says.
‘I don’t want half a baby,’ Lucie says, alarmed. ‘I wanna whole one. Why isn’t it a whole one?’
‘I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding,’ I say, trying not to smile. ‘Lucie, I’m having a whole baby.’
‘Can it be a sister?’ Lucie says, cheering up. ‘I don’t want another brother.’
‘Madge – I mean, Maz – can’t choose. It’s pot luck.’ Sophia turns back to me. ‘I wondered why Lucie wasn’t keen on the idea of this baby. Now, I can babysit most days during the week, whatever suits you best.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Sophia,’ I say, but I don’t make any definite arrangements, determined to impose strict terms and conditions. It already feels as if Sophia is trying to hijack the baby.
Having thanked both Lucie and Sophia for their hospitality, I check to see if Alex is around, but he isn’t at the surgery or at home at the Barn yet, so I return to Otter House, where Drew is still consulting with Shannon on Reception duties. I leave them to it, escaping to Kennels to spend time with Ginge. When I open the door to his cage, he butts his head against my arm, trying to get out. I take him through to the consulting room to let him have a wander, but all he does is stand facing the darkest corner, howling at the shadows.
I call him, but he either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t recognise my voice. I lean against the table, watching him, as I call Alex on my mobile.
‘Hi, darling,’ he says. ‘How are you?’
‘Pretty rough. I’ve had a bad day. How about you?’
‘I had Astra turn up on my doorstep with Lucie and Seb at seven this morning.’
‘Yes, poor Lucie.’
‘You know?’
‘I ran into Lucie and your mother in town today. How long are the children staying?’
Alex sighs. ‘Until Lucie’s fit to go back to school, by which time Seb will have caught it …’
I don’t know why Astra doesn’t keep the children with her if she’s such a good mum.
‘They’ll be better off here with Mother,’ Alex goes on. ‘It means they’ll be around this weekend. I’m sorry. I know they’re a bit of a pain.’
‘I don’t mind,’ I say, surprising myself. ‘You should have seen the smile on Lucie’s face when I convinced her I was having a whole baby, not half of one.’
‘I wondered why she was so quiet – I thought she was jealous,’ Alex says. ‘I hope my mother was civil to you.’
‘She was positively ingratiating. She’s changed her mind. I’ve been up to the Manor this afternoon for tea and cake. She wants contact with the baby.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said yes. She looked so unhappy.’
‘Thanks, Maz.’
‘I won’t let her look after it up at the Manor, though.’ I picture Old Fox-Gifford with his smoking gun and the rats lined up on the bale of straw. ‘Your father might shoot it.’
Alex chuckles.
‘Can we meet up?’ he asks.
‘I’m going to have an early night, if that’s all right with you. I’m planning to curl up with Clive’s chocolates and a good book.’
‘Nothing too exciting, I hope.’
‘Pregnancy for Dummies. Emma gave it to me. I’d better read it – I expect she’ll grill me on the contents tomorrow.’ It’s funny how everyone’s becoming proprietorial over my unborn child. There’s Sophia, Emma and Alex, of course. And what about me? I think. Will I ever feel the same way?
It’s the end of April, two weeks after her op, and I’m expecting Saba in for her final check-up. I take a peek at the waiting list over Frances’s shoulder.
‘I thought Aurora had booked in to see me,’ I say, scanning Drew’s list of appointments.
‘Oh, Aurora? She wanted to see Drew,’ says Frances. ‘She’s in with him now.’
‘Did she say why?’
‘Something about Saba preferring a male vet.’
‘Oh?’ I feel quite put out that I’m not wanted. There seems to be a peculiarly high proportion of misogynist animals in Talyton all of a sudden. I go into the corridor to fetch a couple of pens from the stationery cupboard – since Drew’s been here, pens have become as rare as hens’ teeth. I hesitate at the sound of a giggle, which draws my attention to the fact that the door into the consulting room is ajar. Dismissing what I’ve told Frances about listening in to private consultations, and salving my conscience with the thought that
I’m the boss and I really should have my finger on the pulse when it comes to my staff behaving badly, I sidle closer.
‘Come closer – you’ll never see it from over there.’ Unfastening the buttons on her blouse, Aurora beckons Drew towards her. He moves swiftly round the table and starts examining Aurora’s chest while Saba looks on, rather bored.
‘That isn’t much of a rash.’ Drew pauses. ‘Would you mind if I had a feel?’
‘If it helps you with your diagnosis.’ Aurora giggles again, and to my horror, Drew starts palpating Aurora’s breasts.
‘You know, you wouldn’t believe they weren’t real,’ Drew says, and I hear Aurora’s sharp intake of breath, see her raise her hand as if to slap him, and now he’s examining her ear with his mouth, and she’s got her hand on his belt.
‘Is that a syringe in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?’
Worried she’s about to reveal the answer to her question, I step in, clearing my throat.
Aurora looks up, blushing and rearranging her décolletage. Drew grabs Saba and lifts her onto the table.
‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything,’ I say with irony. ‘I’d like a word with you, Drew. In the office. Ten minutes.’
As it turns out, we don’t meet in the office, because Frances immediately calls me into Reception, where a woman in a dark suit is bawling her eyes out over a hamster in a tissue box. It’s Ally Jackson, one of our clients and the roving reporter for the Chronicle, the one who wrote the sensationalistic article about the Captain. I’m not inclined to feel overly sorry for her.
‘I’ve told him, if Harry dies, I’m going straight for a divorce,’ she sobs.
I look into the box and see the hamster lying flat out with blood coming out of his mouth, and change my mind. Poor little thing.
‘What happened?’ I pick him up and lay him out on the desk.
‘Mind you don’t get blood on my daybook,’ Frances says.
‘My husband trod on him.’ Ally presses a ball of tissue against her mouth.
‘Let me take him through to Kennels and I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything …’ I nod towards Frances as I pick Harry up again. ‘Can you fill out a consent form, please?’
‘C-c-c-can I say goodbye?’ Ally stammers, and before I know what she’s doing, she’s holding my hand – the one holding the hamster – and smothering it with wet kisses. ‘Goodbye, mummy’s bestest boy.’
‘I’ll be in touch,’ I say, backing hurriedly out through the double doors and into the corridor. In Kennels, I give Harry warm fluids and a shot of steroid, and pop him into the incubator.
‘Frances said you were out here.’ Drew turns up with a couple of Saba’s nylon sutures on his scrub top. He flicks them off onto the floor as he steps up and looks over my shoulder. ‘That looks like a bit of a waste of time, if you ask me. Why don’t they go out and buy a new one?’
‘Because they care about this one’ – I assess Harry’s shallow breaths, dull pinhead eyes and the intermittent twitch of his paws – ‘and I care about him too.’
‘You don’t care all that much for me, or Aurora,’ Drew says, a cheeky twinkle in his eye. ‘She wanted me to take a look at her rash. I went along with it out of the goodness of my heart.’
‘Sure,’ I say, as I write up Harry’s inpatient card.
‘I was afraid it might be mange. Well, it could have been. She could have caught it from the dog.’
‘You should have sent her off to see a doctor.’
‘What, and let someone else have all the fun?’ Drew tips his head to one side, making me smile. ‘She was flirting with me, that’s all. It was completely harmless.’
‘She has a boyfriend – what about him?’
‘She didn’t mention that. Come on, Maz. What’s wrong with you? We’re both consenting adults. Me and Aurora, I mean. Not me and you …’
‘It could be interpreted as sexual harassment.’ Maintaining the moral high ground in the face of his teasing is difficult. It’s hard not to forgive him.
‘On her part, not mine. She started it.’ Drew sighs. ‘I can’t help it if women like taking their clothes off in front of me.’
‘You’re lucky it was me who caught you together, not Shannon.’ Drew frowns as I go on, ‘I think she’s under the impression that you two are an item.’
I’m fond of Shannon. She’s part of the team at Otter House now and I’m not going to stand by while Drew makes a fool of her, which is why I go quiet as she walks into Kennels, carrying Seven in a white wire basket.
He sits up on a white blanket with a ball that’s almost as big as he is by his side. He’s still tiny, but his eyes are open now – they’re a grey-blue colour, like his wavy coat – and I think it’s a pity Shannon’s eyes haven’t been opened to Drew yet.
‘It’s puppy love, Maz, that’s all,’ Drew says, having the last word.
I don’t believe him. Shannon is going through the throes of her first grown-up love affair with a man who isn’t taking it seriously. I enlist Frances to help me catch Drew out.
‘Delighted to be of assistance,’ she says later, her face glowing at the thought, I suspect, of having permission to have a good old dig. I imagine her sitting Drew down with tea and biscuits and giving him a grilling. He might resist at first, but Frances has a knack for extracting information you don’t want to give up. She leans towards me across the desk. ‘Maz, I’m sorry I inadvertently put my foot in it with the Fox-Giffords. I wanted to say something before, but –’
‘Oh, that,’ I interrupt. ‘Don’t worry about it, Frances.’
‘All right then, but I hope you don’t mind me saying that you don’t seem to take much notice of that neat little bump of yours. I’ve never seen you talk to it.’
I’m gobsmacked.
‘I realise you’re trying to protect Emma, but you have to think of yourself and your baby.’
‘You think I should be playing it a bit of Mozart now and then?’ I say, my voice tinny in my ears.
‘Oh, don’t worry about getting upset, dear.’ Frances reaches across and pats my arm. ‘It’s normal to be a bit teary.’
‘I’m not normal, though.’
‘Of course you are …’
‘But I-I-I don’t have any maternal feelings. I don’t wish it ill, but I don’t know what to say to it …’ I snivel into a tissue from the box on the desk. ‘I just can’t bond with it.’
‘Does Alexander know?’
‘I can’t bring myself to tell him, he’s so excited. I feel as if I’m letting him down.’
Frances smiles, and for once I’m grateful for her interference.
‘It sounds a bit silly, but have you tried sitting down quietly and starting a conversation?’
‘Of course we have. Alex and I are always talking.’
‘Not you and Alex. You and the baby.’
I shake my head.
‘It’ll happen, Maz,’ Frances says. ‘When you see the baby on the scan again, you’ll be completely smitten.’
‘I doubt it. I wasn’t the first time, was I?’
‘It’ll look quite different now,’ Frances insists. ‘Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never fallen in love before. Look at you and Alexander. No, he isn’t the best example. Look at you and Ginge. You have to admit he wasn’t the most endearing character when you first met him, but you saw through all the hissing and spitting, and loved him all the same.’
It’s true, I muse, following Frances’s gaze towards Emma, who’s walking through the entrance into Reception, as she continues, ‘You and the baby – you’ll adore him. Good afternoon, Emma.’ Frances opens up the daybook. ‘There are three messages for you.’ She dents the page with a lime-green fingernail. ‘The clinic in London called back.’
‘What’s that about?’ I say, accompanying Emma back to the staffroom, where she unpacks a lunch of salad and berries from a canvas bag.
‘It’s a fertility clinic. My clock’s ticking now, and every mont
h that goes by is another month wasted. I know it sounds a bit heartless because it hasn’t been very long since – well, you know … Ben and I want to try again, but I’m not leaving it to chance this time. We’re going private to hurry things along. We can have all the tests within a month, then we can go straight for IVF, if that’s what it takes.’ Emma removes a fork from the drawer under the sink. ‘We’ll have to make some changes to the rota, because I don’t know what I’ll be doing or where I’ll be from day to day.’ She sits down on the sofa. ‘Don’t look like that, Maz. It won’t be for ever. Thank goodness for Drew, eh?’ ‘Let me know the dates and I’ll sort it out with him.’ ‘Thanks, Maz. I knew you’d understand.’ I sit down on the other end of the sofa, as the baby gives me a kick. Looking down, I touch my bump and give it a tiny prod in return.
‘Is that the baby?’ Emma asks. ‘Can I?’ she adds, resting her fork across her pot of salad.
I nod, and as she reaches over and lays her hand across my bump, her eyes light up, and I’m pleased.
I hope her trips to the fertility clinic work out and she’s successful in her quest to have a family, although I really wish we could just be vets again, and not have all this complicated personal stuff getting in the way.
Chapter Sixteen
Love Is Blind
I scoop up Ginge from where he’s parked himself in front of the tumble dryer, having bumped his head on the door, which has been left open in spite of Izzy’s bright yellow Post-it note reading, Keep Shut! I make a mental note to have a look at Ginge’s eyes sometime. He recovered completely after his daredevil ride in the machine, but over the past couple of weeks he’s started walking into things. I put him down beside his food, lock the cat flap so he can’t wander, and head to Reception to have a word with Frances.
‘Have you seen Emma?’ I ask. It’s a very small practice compared with some, yet it’s still possible to lose people in it.
‘Emma hasn’t been in today.’
‘But I’ve got to go out. I booked the afternoon off ages ago.’
I check the daybook for the last Wednesday in May. The date is highlighted with asterisks and exclamation marks. How could she have missed it?
Must Be Love Page 23
