‘I did, but you forget that some of us work for a living, and I have a horse to ride. I can’t drop everything to babysit for three whole days.’
‘Where are the children?’ She turns abruptly to face me.
‘With Mum,’ I say simply.
‘How could you? They’re my children.’
‘Why don’t you treat them properly then? I love them too, Cheska, which is why I made that call. You left me with no choice. It was Mum or Social Services. You’re completely irresponsible.’ I take a step towards her. ‘Sage and Gabriel have loved every minute they’ve spent with their grandmother. Whether you like it or not, they should continue to have a relationship with her.’
‘What about me? What about what I want?’
‘Right at this moment, I really don’t care. You’re so bloody selfish.’
‘At least I’m happy,’ she sobs, despite the fact that clearly she isn’t
I fall silent, I’m out of my depth and unable to deal with her. She is a slave to her emotions, taking life’s highs and lows to extremes. She knows better than I do how to have fun and perhaps if I’d been able to let myself go in the same way as Cheska, I would have had more fun too. Or maybe my life would have ended up in a similar mess.
Not only does she exhibit extreme emotions, she inspires them in others – I am both livid and supremely sorry for her. My heart goes out to my confused and lost little sister.
‘Cheska, come here.’ I hold out my arms and she lets me give her a hug. ‘I’ll take you to Mum’s to collect Sage and Gabriel. I bet they can’t wait to see you.’
‘They’re at Mum’s house?’
‘Don’t start again, Cheska,’ I say, upset at her attitude after I’ve done my best to cope. I pick up my bag and keys and drive to Talymouth.
‘I’ll wait in the car,’ she says when I park outside our old family home, a three-storey terrace painted the palest cornflower blue and facing out to sea.
‘You’re coming in with me,’ I say, getting out and tapping on the roof of the car. ‘Move!’
‘What are you trying to do, Nicci? Make me play happy families?’
‘I’m not forcing you to do anything. You’re going to go in there and give your children the biggest hug ever. I’ll look after Mum,’ I add because I know she’s going to be devastated.
As I anticipated, Sage and Gabriel almost fall out of the front door into Cheska’s arms when we ring on the bell. Gabriel looks as if he’s been making mud pies, while Sage clutches a pink trowel.
‘Mummy!’ Gabriel squeals. Cheska squats down and holds him tight. ‘Mummy, Mummy, where have you been?’
‘Mummy went on a little holiday. I’m sorry, darlings—’ Cheska looks up at Sage ‘—I should have kept in touch.’
‘We had a holiday too, in a way,’ Sage says, giving her mother a kiss. ‘Matt and Nicci took us to the beach and Gabriel was scared of a crab.’
‘I was not,’ Gabriel says.
‘You were. You cried. You’re always crying.’
‘What else did you do?’ Cheska asks quickly.
‘We’ve been shopping and gardening with Granma.’ Sage glances behind her where Mum is standing in the shadows of the hall beyond, her arms folded and her lips pressed together.
‘Let’s go.’ Cheska gets up and takes the children by the hand.
‘We haven’t finished planting the new rose bushes yet,’ Sage protests. ‘We can’t go yet, can we, Granma?’
‘Let them stay, Cheska.’ Mum takes a step towards my sister.
‘Please, Mummy,’ Sage says.
‘Nicci needs to get back to work.’
‘I can bring them back to Nicci’s later.’
‘No,’ Cheska says. ‘I’m here now. They’re my kids.’ She glares at Mum. ‘You can stop playing the doting granny now.’
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ I say as I hang back for a moment, watching Cheska helping Sage and Gabriel into the car.
‘Although I’ve been worried sick about Cheska, I’ve loved having Sage and Gabriel, but I always knew it wasn’t going to last.’ Mum shakes her head sadly. ‘At least I have you and Robert, and a wedding to organise.’
I look out to sea where the sailing boats are racing from one end of the bay to the other. A seagull perching on the chimney pots cries mournfully. I wish I knew how to bring two of the people I love the most together and make everything right between them.
Chapter Fourteen
Horse Whisperer
CHESKA IS BACK, reunited with Sage and Gabriel, and Matt and I are rebuilding our relationship, and it’s a relief when life settles down to something approaching normal, for a couple of weeks at least.
At work, I refresh the waiting list. There are three for me. I smile wryly. There is a visitor to the area with an ear infection and one of Eternally Frazzled Mum’s boys with a suspected appendicitis – not just a tummy ache, but a suggested diagnosis. Ally has been on the internet and when I call her in, she brings what looks like a ream of notes printed from Wikipedia and various other websites where you can check your symptoms, but I soon set her straight.
Fifi comes in for a check-up next.
‘I wonder if you can help me,’ I begin. ‘I was wondering if you had any jobs going at your garden centre.’
‘Any vacancies?’ Her brow forms papery crinkles. Although well preserved, she’s beginning to show her age. ‘Are you thinking of throwing in the towel already, Dr Chieveley? Are you going to give up medicine after all that training?’ She raises her hands. ‘Who will look after us? You are such a wonderful doctor. Irreplaceable.’
‘It’s very kind of you to say so and I’m flattered, but it isn’t for me. It’s for my sister.’
‘Oh?’ Fifi leans closer, as if to exact a confidence.
‘Her visit’s turning out to be a bit more than a holiday.’
‘There is a temporary position, filling shelves and manning the tills. Would that appeal to her?’
‘Is there an application form or anything?’
‘Oh, tell her to come in for a chat at midday on Friday.’ Fifi taps her nose. ‘Keep it under your hat though – I don’t want to be accused of favouritism.’
‘Thank you. That’s really good of you.’
‘It’s a pleasure,’ she says, her cheeks growing pink. ‘So, is she staying permanently?’
‘You’ll be able to ask her that question. Fifi, I’m very busy.’
‘Of course you are, Dr Chieveley. Ed Pike is waiting to see you. It’s such a terrible to-do for his family. We don’t usually have those sort of goings-on around here.’
‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘The sex change,’ Fifi says in a hushed whisper. ‘Haven’t you heard the rumours?’
‘I don’t normally listen to gossip,’ I say, amused at my attempt at self-delusion. Of course I do. ‘I prefer to get my information straight from the horse’s mouth.’
‘It’s been said that Ed has been taking extracts of wild yam for its feminising properties.’
‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I cut
in.
‘You must do. It’s to help him through his transition from Ed to Edwina.’
I shake my head. ‘You really mustn’t believe everything you hear. Surely you know that by now. Go on. Off you go.’
When I get home, Cheska and I take the children down to the green by the river for a walk. We stop just beyond the stile and sit down in the long grass. Gabriel toddles around, his red curls coppery in the sunlight, as he plays with a ball I bought from the newsagents to allay his distress at having to return a football that came over the fence from next door the other day. I say ‘plays’, but I don’t think he’s going to be the next David Beckham because he misses the ball more often than he makes contact with it. In the meantime, Sage is reading, sitting down cross-legged with her hair falling over her eyes.
‘Would Sage like her hair cut when the hairdresser comes?’ I ask my sister.
<
br /> ‘What’s wrong with her hair?’ Cheska says defensively.
‘Nothing. I just thought Maria’s coming next week and I’d ask her to do Sage and Gabriel as well, if you’re happy.’ I don’t want my sister to think I’m taking over, but I do like to get things done.
‘I thought you’d go to some top salon.’
‘I like to keep local people employed. It’s called being part of a community.’
‘I still don’t understand why you came back. You could have gone anywhere.’
‘I came back because this is home. I love this area, I have friends here, and most importantly, it’s close to Mum.’ I smile. ‘Going back to the hairdresser—’
‘If you want to keep her busy, then go ahead. Let her cut the kids’ hair.’
‘It isn’t that exactly. As I said, it’s more about keeping local people employed …’
My sister closes her eyes.
I give her a nudge. ‘You can’t keep dodging the issue. You said you were going to look for work and I’ve found a vacancy up at the garden centre.’
My sister wrinkles her nose.
‘You can’t afford to be picky. It’s part-time, mainly on the tills, and you get a uniform so you won’t have to splash out on work clothes.’
‘What, a saggy green sweatshirt or a tabard?’
‘They wear polo-shirts, yellow, pink or lilac, I think, with the centre’s logo. They’re quite tasteful, considering the owner’s style of dress.’ I think of Fifi turning up at the surgery like the mother of the bride all the time. I dig around in my bag and pull out a Post-it note and drop it onto my sister’s lap. ‘You have an interview on Friday at lunchtime.’
She sits up abruptly. ‘A what?’
‘It’s at twelve-thirty.’
‘How could you?’
‘It’s a special favour from Fifi. Cheska, you need to do something. It isn’t just the money, although that would come in useful when you start looking for your own place. It will give you a chance to get out and meet people.’
‘I don’t need to meet people,’ she says, pursing her lips. ‘Anyway, what will I do with the kids when I’m at work? It’s impossible.’
‘I’ll have them. The garden centre is open for late-night shopping on Thursdays and Fridays throughout the summer, and you can do alternate Saturdays and every Sunday. It’s perfect.’
‘What about your horsey events?’
‘Ah …’ I look down and fiddle with the fastener on my bag, popping it open and shut.
‘Don’t even think about it.’
‘Cheska, it’s common sense, something of which you appear to possess very little.’ I should have bitten my tongue because I can feel this discussion flaring into a full-blown sisterly row. ‘Mum adored having them when you were away and she’d love to have them for a few hours now and then. I’d be there too and you wouldn’t have to see her. All she wants is to be part of their lives, and yours, if you’d only give her a chance.’ I am cut to the core by my sister’s attitude. ‘I’m trying to help you out here.’
‘Oh yes, my perfect sister. Well, I don’t want you to put yourself out on my behalf. I can look after myself. I’m not a bloody charity.’
‘Prove it then,’ I say, standing my ground. ‘Go to the interview and give it your best shot.’
*
‘Show me,’ I say, when Mum turns up to take me to the yard the following evening after work, Robert sitting in the lorry waiting.
She tips her head to one side, pretending to be embarrassed, before holding up her left hand to reveal a beautiful antique diamond ring. At first I’m afraid she’s going to tell me it belonged to the dead wife.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I say. ‘I’m jealous.’
‘We went to an antiques market to choose it. And no, it isn’t that he’s a tightwad, or whatever you now call people who are prudent with their money. It was my choice. This is my second time round and I wanted something with history.’
‘You’ve got that in Robert, haven’t you?’ I giggle.
‘You can mock, Nicci. It’s good to have a partner who has plenty of life experience to talk about and interests you can share. I have great hopes for you and Matt. There was a time when I thought you were going to beat us down the aisle.’
‘Mum, it isn’t a race.’
‘I know. I’m so glad you’re back together.’
‘I’m surprised you’ve rushed in like you have.’
‘The first time I met Robert face to face, I knew he was more than “just a friend”. It’s all right, I know that’s what you called them,’ she adds, smiling. ‘Come on. Let’s go and fetch this pony.’
‘This is a day I didn’t think we would see,’ Mum says when we head out of Talyton in the lorry. ‘I won’t forget the look in Beauty’s eyes when we found her in the field. She was begging us to help her.’
‘Which I did, against my better judgement, dearest Kathryn,’ Robert says gruffly. ‘I did it for you, not the pony. You would never have agreed to marry me if I hadn’t.’
‘It’s very appealing when a man is fond of children and animals,’ says Mum, stroking his thigh. We both know Robert’s bluffing. He loves that pony.
‘You’re making me feel like a gooseberry here,’ I say.
I’m driving with Robert sitting beside me and Mum next to him, but I really wish they’d chosen to sit with Robert beside the passenger door, because I am finding it hard to cope with him stinking of cows and pressed up against me, taking up a lot of space in his enormous sheepskin coat.
At the hospital I reverse the lorry into the parking area. ‘Do you need travel boots and a tail guard?’ I ask. ‘The boots might be a bit big, but you can borrow Willow’s.’
‘Thanks for the offer,’ Robert says.
‘We should put boots on her,’ Mum says. ‘The last thing we need is for Beauty to hurt herself on the way home. I’m sorry if this is spoiling your evening,’ she goes on. ‘I expect you’d rather be out with Matt.’
‘I’m not sure what he’s up to tonight.’
‘I was hoping he might be at the hospital. I spoke to him on the phone and he said we could pick her up whenever we like, one of the benefits of him being my daughter’s boyfriend.’
I don’t enlighten her as to how close it came to us splitting up for good over Mel and the baby.
‘One of the vets will be there,’ I say, ‘but I’m not sure which.’ I’m actually hoping that it’s Mel.
It is Mel, her hair tied back, a slash of bright lippy across her mouth and her eyes ringed with black eyeliner. She’s wearing a blue sweatshirt over green scrubs and short black wellington boots, and even in that get-up she manages to look sexy. It isn’t fair.
‘Isn’t Matt here?’ Mum says, sounding disappointed.
‘He’s at a partners’ meeting,’ Mel says, looking at me superciliously as if to say, you didn’t know that, did you? And it’s true, I didn’t, but she can’t make me feel bad about it because Matt and I are secure in our relationship.
‘I’d like to pay my bill,’ Robert says. ‘I don’t like to be beholden to anyone.’
‘You can settle by card if you like, or wait until we invoice you like last time,’ Mel says.
‘I’ve got the cash here now. I’d rather give it to you than carry it around with me.’ Robert fishes around in the deep pockets of his sheepskin coat and pulls out wads of notes held together with elastic bands. ‘It’s all here,’ he says, but he insists on counting it out in front of Mel, not once, but twice. She’s fine about it, which surprises me. I thought she’d be irritated and impatient to get the pony out of here, but she’s gracious.
‘Here she is,’ Mel says when we walk through the yard. Beauty pokes her nose over the stable door and whickers. Her forelock has been twisted into a plait incorporating a yellow tag with her hospital details, name and number.
‘Hello, girl,’ Robert says gruffly. He strokes Beauty’s face and a lump catches in my throat at the sight of the man and his pon
y.
‘She’s a fiery little thing,’ Mel says. ‘She’s done well this time round.’
‘When can I drive her again?’
‘Don’t rush it,’ Mel says. ‘Give her a full six months from the surgery. We don’t want to risk another hernia because she’s overdone it. Do you need a hand to load her, or can you manage?’
‘We’ll be fine,’ Robert says. ‘It’s three against one and she walked straight into the trailer the last couple of times.’
‘She wasn’t well then,’ Mum points out. ‘She didn’t care.’
‘She always loads first time.’
‘You said you’d never loaded her before she started coming over to the hospital.’
‘Hey,’ I cut in. ‘It’s too soon to be arguing like an old married couple. Save it for a few more weeks.’
Mum and Robert smile fondly at each other.
‘I’ll get on then,’ Mel says.
It’s a really awkward situation, but I need to speak to her to make it clear where I stand as far as Matt’s baby is concerned.
‘Mel,’ I say quickly. ‘Can I have a quick word?’
‘What’s this about?’ she asks, but I’m pretty sure she knows already because she’s taking a rapid guilt trip back to reception as if she’s trying to shake me off.
‘Congratulations,’ I begin. ‘Matt’s told me about the baby.’
‘Oh?’ Under the light at the entrance to the building, I can see the flush on her cheeks and the glint of irritation in her eyes. ‘Thanks, but it has nothing to do with you. It’s between me and Matt.’
‘It is my business.’
‘I really don’t see how it can be, now that you and Matt aren’t together any more. The way he went on about you – I knew you were too good to be true. No one could possibly be that perfect.’
‘I’m flattered he thinks of me that way,’ I say icily.
‘Thought,’ Mel says. ‘It’s in the past. Matt’s promised to commit to me and the baby.’ She strokes the slight swell of her stomach.
Vets in Love Page 21
