Vets in Love

by Cathy Woodman

  Sage clutches the bag to her chest. ‘No, little brother, they’ll make you go hyper.’

  ‘He’s hyper already,’ Matt says, joining in.

  ‘You should see him after he’s had a few Skittles,’ Sage says.

  ‘I’d rather not,’ I say, smiling wryly as I check our tickets. We have seats in the front row so close to the stage that, as Matt points out, we’ll be able to see right up the ugly sisters’ skirts. Before I can sit down though, Fifi joins us.

  ‘Nicci and Matt, how wonderful. You’re so good with those children. Soon, you’ll have a lovely family of your own.’

  ‘Fifi, hold your horses on that one.’ My awkwardness turns to horror when I find her sitting down in the seat next to mine.

  ‘The front row is always reserved for the guests of honour,’ she says. ‘Aren’t we lucky?’

  ‘Indeed,’ I say. ‘Is Mr Green with you?’

  ‘No, I’m here to support my niece – she’s playing Cinderella.’ Fifi places her handbag on her lap and clasps her hands across the top. ‘Dr Chieveley, could you tell me if the cold might be affecting my arthritis, only since the weather turned it’s been very much worse. My husband suggested some winter sunshine might help.’

  I don’t really want to get involved in a full-scale consultation, but it seems like a sensible question.

  ‘I think it would be a great idea if you and your husband could afford a holiday in the sun.’

  ‘Oh no, he wasn’t saying we’d both go,’ Fifi says. ‘He meant for me to go alone.’

  ‘You sound like you have a very considerate husband,’ I say brightly.

  ‘I suspect he was considering himself, not my precarious state of health. Anyway, if you think it’s a good idea, I’ll book some time away with my sister, that’s if everyone can manage without me.’

  Sage gives me a nudge. ‘The Eternally Frazzled Mum is here with those naughty boys.’

  ‘Are they?’ I look around, worried that Ally might have overheard our nickname for her. ‘Where?’

  ‘They’re behind yooou,’ Sage sings out. ‘Get it!’

  ‘You are very funny,’ I say, relieved to see that although they are indeed behind us they’re a few rows further back, as are Claire and Kevin, who appear to have eyes only for each other. ‘You should be a stand-up comic.’

  ‘It’s starting,’ Sage says, as music comes blaring out of the speaker to our left and the curtains part, revealing a magnificent set of a pastoral scene with a distant castle, and at the front of the stage, Cinderella, in tattered clothing, sweeping the path up to the door of a cottage, made to look as though it’s built from cob and thatch.

  I look at Sage’s face. She’s entranced by the magic of the tale of rags to riches, which could also be described as the story of the rise of a nonentity to a celebrity because the group have given the panto a modern twist. The ugly sisters, one of whom is Steve, come tottering onto the stage in skimpy gowns and ultra-high heels. Their blonde wigs, enormous cleavages, false lashes and fake tan make them look like exiles from TOWIE.

  The prince, wearing a cloak, crown and hose and holding a bow and arrow, comes skipping out from the wings. He takes a potshot and a soft toy – a toucan – drops down to the floor with an arrow stuck through it.

  ‘What did he do that for?’ says Sage, on the edge of her seat. ‘I wouldn’t want to marry a prince who kills birds.’

  ‘It’s just to show that he enjoys princely pursuits like hunting,’ Matt says, letting Gabriel scramble onto his knee.

  ‘He’s wearing tights.’ Sage maintains an expression of disapproval. ‘What does Cinderella see in him?’

  I can’t help laughing. ‘I think he’s supposed to be very handsome.’

  ‘And have a good sense of humour,’ Matt adds.

  ‘Sh,’ says Fifi.

  ‘The prince is a girl,’ Gabriel announces. ‘Nicci, that man is a lady.’

  ‘Be quiet,’ says Sage, embarrassed by her brother.

  ‘You’re allowed to shout. Nicci said so,’ Gabriel says fiercely.

  ‘The prince is a boy,’ Sage says, her tone definitive.

  ‘He isn’t.’

  ‘Yes, he is.’

  ‘Oh no, he isn’t.’ Gabriel leans forward with Matt catching him by the arms to stop him tipping off his lap.

  ‘Hey, that’s enough,’ I hiss. ‘You’re confusing the issue.’

  I sit back as Sage and Gabriel fall silent for five minutes. As Cinderella sweeps, various small children dressed as leaves roll across the stage, thwarting her attempts to clear the path. When the ugly sisters call the wicked stepmother to punish Cinderella, there are flashes of lightning and crashing of cymbals. Gabriel throws himself into Matt’s arms and covers his eyes.

  ‘You aren’t scared, are you?’ Matt says, giving me a wink.

  ‘No,’ Gabriel says, his voice trembling. ‘I’m not scared.’

  As the wicked stepmother scolds Cinderella and the ugly sisters drag her away into the cottage to chain her to the kitchen sink with only gruel to eat, Gabriel bursts into tears.

  ‘I don’t like it. I don’t like it,’ he repeats.

  Matt looks at me. ‘I’ll take him out. You stay here.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  He nods.

  ‘Don’t worry about Matt, Nicci,’ Fifi says. ‘I expect he’s glad to have an excuse to go to the bar.’

  ‘Are you all right, Sage?’ I whisper.

  She nods, her eyes fixed on Cinderella, her mind miles away in the faraway land of political incorrectness where the poor girl marries a handsome and financially secure prince. The fairy godmother is on stage, waving her wand to bring Cinderella a ball-gown, glass slippers and a carriage for the ball. In a puff of smoke, a little grey pony appears pulling a tiny carriage in the shape of a pumpkin.

  ‘It’s Harry,’ shrieks Sage. ‘I didn’t know Harry was an actor.’

  It brings a tear to my eye to see Delphi dressed in white breeches, black jacket and boots leading the much-loved Harry onto the stage with a plume of feathers in his bridle.

  ‘Cinderella,’ says the fairy godmother, ‘you will go to the ball. Let us cheer you on your way. Hip hip!’

  To cheers and applause, Cinderella puts on her glass slippers and starts to make her way to the carriage, but she trips on the hem of her dress and falls forward onto her hands. There’s a gasp from the audience followed by silence.

  ‘Nicci, I don’t think she’s acting,’ Sage says, concerned.

  If she is, she’s extraordinarily talented, I think as Steve dashes across from the wings to help Cinderella up, but she sinks back to the floor, grimacing and holding her ankle.

  ‘Is there a doctor in the house?’ Steve shouts.

  ‘Dr Chieveley’s right here,’ Fifi calls.

  I join them on stage, to applause, and have a quick word with Cinderella while Steve ad libs to the audience.

  ‘Cinderella’s journey to the ball hasn’t started out too well. That fairy godmother isn’t up to the job. She forgot to cast the “don’t trip over on the way to the carriage” spell.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say to Cinderella. ‘You aren’t going to get through the rest of the performance. We need to get you to A&E for X-rays – I’m pretty sure you’ve broken it.’

  ‘Oh no,’ she wails, touching the back of her hand to her forehead. ‘I can’t let everyone down. Can’t you strap it up for the last half an hour?’

  ‘We can try, but it’s against doctor’s orders,’ I say lightly. ‘Fairy godmother, can you magic up a first aid kit from somewhere?’

  ‘There’s one in the dressing room,’ she says.

  ‘I’m not sure that the prince will get your glass slipper to fit,’ I say once I’ve strapped Cinderella’s ankle.

  ‘We’ll improvise,’ she says. ‘The show must go on.’

  Somehow she struggles through, carried on a litter for the ball and the finale, when she marries her prince and lives happily ever after. Briefly, I wonder if
Matt and I will live happily ever after.

  Sage cries at the end. I give her a hug.

  ‘I didn’t want it to finish,’ she sobs.

  ‘It will always be in your memory. And we have Granma’s wedding to look forward to.’

  ‘Mummy says we can’t go. She says I can’t be bridesmaid.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ I give Sage a tissue, smiling to myself. Unlike panto, real life is not bad or good or black and white. ‘Let’s go and find the boys. I expect they’ll be at the bar.’

  ‘Gabriel’s too young to drink beer.’

  ‘Sage, everyone can see he’s underage,’ I chuckle.

  We join them at the bar, where they’re eating choc ices. Matt offers us the same, but we decline.

  ‘I don’t know about the children, but it’s way past my bedtime,’ I say. ‘Thanks for looking after Gabriel.’

  ‘We heard that Cinderella called on your expertise,’ Matt says.

  ‘She’s broken her ankle – Steve’s taking her to hospital.’

  ‘The staff are in for a treat if he’s still in character.’

  ‘Oh, he is. He’ll make the most of it.’ I smile. ‘He looks so well.’

  ‘I thought he looked a little overheated.’

  ‘That was the spots of rouge on his cheeks.’

  ‘And somewhat overweight.’

  ‘That’s padding. I can’t believe he almost died of a heart attack in the summer. He seems fitter than ever now.’

  ‘Can we go home?’ Sage asks, and I’m touched that she considers my home as hers. I know it’s been hard on both sides but, on balance, I love having them around, particularly my niece with her fondness for horses. Although Matt and my sister might accuse me of indoctrination, Sage has a natural empathy with four-legged creatures, dogs included.

  ‘Are you coming back with us?’ I ask Matt.

  ‘Try and stop me,’ he says. ‘I’ll drop you off, pick up the Bobster and come back, if that’s okay.’

  However, his plans soon change when we find my mother’s car parked outside my house, which can mean only one thing, I hope – as long as they haven’t killed each other.

  ‘I won’t stop – you have company.’ Matt leans across and kisses me.

  ‘They’re kissing,’ exclaims Gabriel.

  ‘Oh, grow up,’ says Sage, but she pauses. Something’s bothering her. ‘Is Cinderella a lesbian? She kissed the prince, but if the prince is really a girl … Does Cinderella know she married a girl?’

  Matt snorts with laughter. ‘If she didn’t know before, she’ll know by now.’

  ‘Matt!’ I try to be stern with him, but I can’t help joining in, and soon we’re all rocking Matt’s car with laughter until none of us have a clue what we’re laughing about.

  ‘You sound like you’ve enjoyed yourselves,’ Mum says from the living room. She’s sitting in the chair opposite Cheska, who’s on the sofa, an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table between them.

  ‘Gabriel was a baby – he was too scared to watch.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t.’

  ‘Oh yes, you were.’

  ‘Sage, the panto’s finished,’ I say.

  ‘Oh no, it hasn’t. Auntie Nicci, you said it never ends in here.’ She points to her head. ‘Anyway, that dreadful Fifi woman—’

  ‘Sage, please don’t call her that,’ I cut in.

  ‘She asked Nicci about her arthuritis and Cinderella broke her ankle, but the best bit was that Harry the pony was there.’

  ‘That is one eventful night,’ Mum says as I look from her to my sister and back. ‘Cheska, why don’t you get the children to bed? Nicci and I will make tea.’

  ‘I’d prefer another glass of wine, if there’s one going,’ Cheska says.

  ‘I’ll see if I can squeeze another one out of the bottle,’ Mum giggles, and I realise they’ve both been drinking and Mum will be staying overnight.

  ‘So, you are speaking?’ I say when Mum and I are in the kitchen.

  ‘We aren’t there yet, but I think I can safely say that we’re on the road,’ she responds, her eyes bright with tears of joy as she tries to shake the last few drops from the wine bottle.

  ‘Oh, Mum, that’s wonderful.’ I hesitate. ‘Hang on a minute. I think I have another bottle in the cupboard.’

  ‘Cheska’s agreed to come to the wedding.’

  ‘What changed her mind?’ I ask, taking the cork out of a fresh bottle of wine.

  ‘I’ve been rather a fool.’ I turn to find Cheska leaning against the door, her arms folded.

  ‘You were very young and in love,’ Mum says protectively. ‘There’s no way you were going to listen to me. I used to wish Nicci was at home with us, not at uni – you might have taken notice of her. I’m so sorry I upset you when I offered to pay for a termination.’

  ‘I know,’ Cheska says. ‘I wish you’d told me about your jewellery going missing though.’

  ‘What was that about?’ I ask. ‘I haven’t heard that one before.’

  ‘My rings and my mother’s brooch disappeared when Cheska’s boyfriend—’ Mum shudders at the memory of him ‘—came to the house one afternoon. I knew it was him. I knew he was a thief. But after you ran off with him, Cheska, I didn’t think there was any point in pursuing it.’ Mum struggles to control the tremor in her voice as she continues, ‘I didn’t care about the jewellery. All I wanted was for you to come back, safe and sound.’

  Cheska walks across and touches Mum’s arm.

  ‘I’m back now,’ she says. ‘Thank you, Nicci,’ she adds, turning to me. ‘You’ve been the best sister anyone could have.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ I say, touched. ‘I’ve loved having you here.’

  ‘We won’t be staying for ever,’ Cheska says.

  ‘I’m going to look after the children so Cheska can work and find somewhere to live. You can’t all live on top of each other for ever,’ Mum says.

  ‘There’s no hurry.’

  ‘You’ve changed your tune, Nicci.’

  ‘I’ll miss you.’

  ‘You need to think about you and Matt. It can’t be easy to find time for him with all your other commitments.’ Mum pauses. ‘Don’t let him go, Nicci. He’s a diamond.’

  Chapter Twenty One

  For the Love of a Horse

  THREE DAYS BEFORE her December wedding, Mum drops a bridesmaid’s dress off at the house for Sage. She’s so keen to try it on that she strips off in the middle of the living room. She gives me, my mother and Cheska a twirl, showing off the long red dress with the locally made cream lace at the yoke. It fits perfectly, which is a bit of luck because we don’t have much time.

  ‘It’s the same as the ones Robert’s granddaughters will be wearing,’ Mum says.

  ‘How many are there?’ Sage asks.

  ‘Five.’

  ‘Sage, like Cinderella,’ I say, ‘you will go to the ball.’

  ‘You mean the wedding, Auntie Nicci. You know Mummy says marriage is an—’ she frowns ‘— outdated institution, an anti-feminist—’

  ‘Not now, Sage,’ Cheska says, and I breathe a small sigh of relief because I’m sure Mum doesn’t want to hear her daughter’s colourful views when she’s just about to marry Robert. ‘What are you wearing, Nicci?’ she goes on, changing the subject.

  ‘The blue peplum dress. I bought it the other weekend.’

  ‘Good. That means I can borrow the green maxi dress you have in your wardrobe. I’ve had my eye on it.’

  ‘Cheska!’

  ‘Please?’ she begs and eventually, after much negotiation, I give in.

  ‘Why do you two argue so much?’ Sage asks.

  ‘Because they’re sisters,’ Mum sighs fondly. ‘That’s what sisters do.’

  ‘If I move in with Matt, it will stop you going through my clothes,’ I go on.

  ‘If? Surely, it’s when you move in with Matt. You’re virtually living with him anyway.’

  ‘Where will we go when that happens?’ Sage cuts in.

/>   ‘Where will we go?’ echoes Gabriel, stumbling into the room with a glass of blackcurrant.

  ‘Let me have that,’ I say, taking it from him before it gets anywhere near the dress. ‘You can stay here until you and Mummy decide where you want to live. It’s all right, Sage. There’s no hurry.’

  ‘But where are we going to live in the end, Mummy?’ she asks. ‘I don’t want to leave my new school, or Harry and Willow, or the Bobster.’ Her lip trembles. ‘I’d miss them.’

  ‘I’d miss them too,’ Gabriel says, not to be outdone.

  ‘We’re not leaving Talyton St George,’ says Cheska. ‘I’m starting work at the garden centre next week, thanks to Mum, who’s offered to help me out once she comes back from her honeymoon.’

  ‘You’re what?’

  ‘I went to see Fifi to ask her for a second chance, since I let her down the first time, and she’s agreed to take me on part-time so I can go to college and get the qualifications I need to go on to train as a nurse. Ben says there’s no reason why I shouldn’t as long as I’m on the right medication and mentally stable.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ I say, taken aback.

  ‘I’ll prove to you that I can do it, sis,’ Cheska says. ‘I want to use my insight into the condition to help other people.’

  ‘Tell her the rest,’ Mum says, and I realise they’ve been making up for lost time in a big way.

  It isn’t until later when the children are in bed that Cheska is able to finish the conversation. Alan wants to come and see her and the children.

  I wake up at Matt’s house on the morning of the wedding. Later, we’re in the kitchen having breakfast, scrambled eggs with smoked salmon on toast, a treat in honour of my mother’s big day. When we’ve finished, Matt collects up the plates and puts them in the sink. He’s wearing his white bathrobe and his hair is damp from the shower. I smile to myself. He’s the kind of man who can make slippers look sexy, and he doesn’t seem to find my rather unconventional outfit of pyjamas, hooded top and three pairs of socks a turn-off. I’ve tried the gorgeous girlfriend look before, but I was so cold my arms and legs turned blue and I ended up resembling an ancient Briton in a skimpy silk slip.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind coming along, Matt?’ I leave the table and move beside him, looking out of the window at the sun rising through the frosted twigs of the plum trees and the tangled skeletons of the climbing roses. ‘I’m worried you’ll be bored.’