Country Wives

by Rebecca Shaw

  “Problem, is it?”

  Phil nodded.

  “They’re always a problem on any farm.” Still looking at Sunny Boy, Dan continued to pursue his point: “Secret is to limit the number of places they have to hide in and not leave any animal feed available.” He eyed the sacks leaning haphazardly against the far wall.

  Phil nodded, not really listening.

  “You know—clearing up rubbish, sealing up holes. While your beasts might flourish, they’d do even better with more light and air.”

  Phil nodded again, but this time he was listening.

  “Dumpster. Large Dumpster, that’s what’s needed.”

  Phil stirred.

  “Placed outside in the yard, a couple of hours’ work would make a big difference.”

  Blossom came with three mugs on a tray. She rested the tray on top of the wall and handed out the mugs. Dan took his first sip before he remembered Kate’s warning. Too late now. Blossom joined them, squeezing in next to Dan, resting her arm on the wall. “Isn’t it lovely now he’s breathing all right?”

  Dan continued, “Then the next thing would be to sweep down every wall, every window; get rid of all the muck and cobwebs; then a bag of sand and cement, and fill all the holes, replace the stones that have fallen out. Then paint.” He gave a broad sweep with his arm and his imagination full rein. “Everywhere. Just imagine a snow-white barn, with the beams picked out in black and Sunny Boy in pride of place with the light shining in from that window above his head. A wonderful setting for a magnificent beast. What a picture! And no more than a beast of his caliber deserves.” He paused to let the picture sink into Phil’s brain. “I can see three or four wheelie bins lined up against that far wall with the feed in. Blue, I think, would look good against the white. Imagine, Blossom. Why, you could hold tea parties in here.”

  He drank down the last of the coffee, put the empty mug on the tray, said, “Thanks. Be seeing you” and left to shouts of gratitude from Blossom and Phil.

  As he drove to his next call, he thought about the charity auction Mungo had asked him to attend in his place. He was obliged to go but would have preferred someone to go with. High-profile animal charity event, lots of country people there, no doubt, so whom should he ask? It would have to be someone from the practice because he didn’t know anyone else. If only Rose were here …; but she wasn’t and wouldn’t be, and he’d better close his mind to her because wishing would achieve nothing at all. Unbidden, a picture came into his mind of her striding beside him along that magnificent beach, very early one morning, almost before the sun was up … the fine, silvery sand filtering up between his bare toes … her slender fingers entwined in his, swimming naked in the sea, the chill water rippling against his skin … breakfasting on the beach afterward. He could still smell the ripeness of the peaches she’d brought with her, and even now his forearms could feel the roughness of the sun-dried towel she lay on … pain shot through him at the thought of her. He quickly closed the door on Rose and bent his mind to solving his problem.

  Whom to ask to go with him? Not Bunty, nor Sarah One or Two, no, he’d ask Kate. Yes, Kate. He liked Kate, liked her straightforwardness and her no-nonsense manner; and he knew she liked him, which was more than could be said for any of the others.

  He pulled into the yard at Tattersall’s Cop with his mind made up. Definitely Kate. He was sure she’d say yes, if only for the chance to see the wealthy at play, and he guessed they’d derive the same kind of amusement from it too.

  THE auction was to be held in the newly named Lord Henry Askew Hall, a splendid edifice built at the height of the Arts and Crafts movement, with wonderfully ornate decoration, richly painted walls and dramatic paneling that required none of the specially installed lighting or the drapes with which someone had seen fit to embellish it. Vast flower displays burgeoned in every corner; and the general impression was of an overdressed, very rich, stately old lady. Originally it had been the town hall, and out of a kind of ingrained stubbornness the majority of the inhabitants still called it that. Lord Askew, however, was inordinately pleased to have the hall named after himself and made a point of attending every possible event ever held in it.

  Dan and Kate arrived just after seven. They each left their overcoats in the cloakroom and emerged into the hall to find a receiving line awaiting them.

  Out of the corner of his mouth, Dan murmured, “I bet Mungo never thought Lord Askew might be here.”

  “Oh no! I’ve never met him. Where is he?”

  “The last in the receiving line.”

  “That’s him? He doesn’t look much like I imagine a lord should.”

  “But he is. Here goes.”

  They shook hands and introduced themselves as they went down the line, meeting the chairman of the charity and his wife and various other officials. Then finally came the moment for Dan to face Lord Askew. He took the bull by the horns saying, “Dan Brown, my lord, Barleybridge Veterinary Hospital. May I introduce my friend Kate Howard.”

  Kate shook his hand saying, “Good evening, my lord.”

  But he wasn’t taking any notice of her; he was bristling with indignation at Dan. His great voice boomed out, “Still here, then? Thought you’d have been gone long since.”

  “Indeed not. Hopefully, I’m here to stay.”

  “Mungo Price has written to me as well as you, but it’s not enough, no, not enough. I shan’t come back to you, not after your behavior. Damned insolent. Damned insolent.”

  His face flushed redly but with a hint of blue about his nose and lips.

  Dan played his humility card. “It was a most unfortunate occurrence, my lord, one which I very much regret, but I cannot have my professional decisions overridden.”

  “Can you not! I pay the piper so I call the tune, don’t you know.”

  Dan couldn’t resist taunting him. “And the roan. How is he?”

  “Fine, fine …” He opened his mouth to add something else but changed his mind.

  “If you will excuse us, my lord, we’re holding up the line. Perhaps there will be an opportunity to speak later.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  As they moved away, Dan said, “I think he’s having doubts about that horse. See his hesitation? You watch, before the night is out he’ll have found a reason to speak to me about it.”

  “He’s not going to ask your advice, though, is he; do you think?”

  “No, I expect not. His trouble is he’s gone too far down the line to find it easy. Let’s get a drink. What would you like?”

  “Orange juice, please.”

  He made no comment about Kate wanting a soft drink, took a gin and tonic for himself and found them a corner where they could stand, watching the elite of Barleybridge enjoying themselves. On a huge balcony built out over the entrance hall an orchestra was playing tunes from well-known musicals, and the whole room buzzed with pleasurable excitement.

  “So, Kate Howard, this is how Barleybridge enjoys itself.”

  “Only from time to time and most especially because Lord Askew is footing a large part of the bill. He’s terribly keen on hunting and can’t abide this new legislation, you see.”

  “So the profits go to the campaign, do they?”

  Kate nodded.

  “The sad part is having to put down all the hounds.”

  “They can’t be rehomed, I expect.”

  Dan shook his head. “Absolutely not. They haven’t a cat in hell’s chance of being domesticated. They’re a savage lot underneath, having been brought up as pack animals. If you watch them for a while, you see which are the leaders and which are the lowest of the low, and the consequences of stepping out of line can be terminal.”

  Kate felt sad and it showed in her face. Dan glanced at her, taking in her almost classical profile, and he wondered where she had got that from. “What does your father do?”

  “He’s sales manager for the biscuit factory the other side of town.”

  “And your mother?”
<
br />   Kate corrected him. “My stepmother, Mia, she’s a miniaturist.”

  “Wonderful talent.”

  “It is. She’s becoming quite well known. Never without work.”

  “That’s good. How long has she been your stepmother?”

  “Since I was eighteen months old, or thereabouts.”

  “Your mother? Where is she?”

  Kate looked up at him. “I’ve no idea. She walked out on us.”

  Dan replied, “I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “How could I be hurt when I’ve never set eyes on her and don’t even know her name. My dad finds it all too hard to talk about. Thinks it doesn’t concern me, that only he has the right to suffer; but everyone needs to know their origins, don’t they? I know I wish I did.”

  Kate was appalled by the change which came over Dan. Whatever had she said to have brought such an anguished look to his face? She’d always thought of him as having emotion tightly under control, if indeed he had any at all; but here, surprisingly, there appeared to be a totally unsuspected secret, which obviously lay painfully deep.

  To give him space, Kate remained silent, watching people and observing the very differing fashions the women guests had chosen to wear. She looked down at her own black number, which Mia had run up for her after she’d got Dan’s invitation. It was elegantly simple and just sufficiently detailed to bring it way up from downright ordinary without being ostentatious, and she knew she looked good in it. Hang not knowing her birth mother; Mia more than compensated.

  Dan tossed down his G&T and abruptly said, “Another orange? Then we’ll take a look at the buffet. Eh? Should be time for the auction soon.”

  “Right.”

  “You buying anything?”

  Kate had to laugh. She looked at the auction catalogue. “Well, I certainly haven’t enough money to buy anything at all and, what’s more, I don’t want corporate entertaining at Formula One in Monaco with last year’s championship winner no matter who he is, or a ghastly weekend in Scotland shooting grouse on Lord Askew’s estate, or an evening with a third-rate pop star at the Café de Paris, or a day as an extra on a film set no matter how prestigious the stars.” She paused for a moment while she thought of the worst thing possible and came up with “And I definitely do not want the cricket bat signed by the entire English team.”

  She managed to bring a smile to Dan’s face. “What do you want, then?”

  “That’s easy to answer. To be a student at the Royal Veterinary College next October, that’s all.” She checked the catalogue again. “But I don’t see that here, or have I missed something?”

  “You a vet! I’d no idea. What do you need to get in?”

  “They’ll have me if I get a grade A in chemistry. That’s all I need now.” She clenched her fist and struck the air. “I’ve got biology and physics, so it’s only one small hurdle and I’ll be there. Well, not so small, actually.”

  “That’s brilliant. I’m so pleased. It’s five years’ hard work, believe me, but you’ll never regret it.”

  Kate risked another look at his face. It had regained its normal inscrutability. “It’s worth it, isn’t it?”

  Dan nodded. “Wouldn’t be doing anything else on earth. Constant challenge, ever changing work, out in the open air in wonderful countryside. What more can a man ask? Or a woman for that matter.” He laughed and added, “And the best of it is the patients can’t argue about the treatment.”

  The orchestra played a great flourish, and the chairman made his speech and the auction began. Dan found them each a chair in the back row, and they prepared themselves to be entertained. Halfway through, Dan felt a touch on the back of his chair. He half glanced round and saw it was Lord Askew’s great hand resting there. Tactically he knew it was good sense to ignore it. But they’d just reached the exciting part where the auctioneer announced the big prize of the evening, the weekend in Monaco at the Grand Prix. The noise mounted and the auctioneer had difficulty in getting silence.

  “I say, Brown, come out. I need to talk.” Lord Askew was incapable of speaking quietly, and his request boomed out just as silence had fallen. The auctioneer gathered everyone’s eye yet again and began the bidding.

  Dan stood up and followed his lordship, who took him to a quiet corner on the balcony where the orchestra had been playing. “I say, where did you learn about horses?”

  “In Dubai.”

  Lord Askew raised his eyebrows in surprise. “With a sheikh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Price has never had a proper equine vet, you know.”

  “He told me.”

  “Plenty of experience, then?”

  “Some experience mixed with a lot of instinct.”

  “Instinct. Hm.” Lord Askew pushed his hands in his pockets. The noise from the auction couldn’t be ignored. He raised his voice a little. “That roan, my daughter’s, don’t you know. Stickler for the horse being in tip-top condition.” He raised his voice a few more decibels. “Don’t suppose you would come to take a look? Private, don’t you know. Nothing to do with the practice.”

  “I am surprised, my lord, that a man of principle like yourself would make such a request.”

  Lord Askew edged nearer and in a loud stage whisper said close to Dan’s ear, “Don’t push me. I don’t bargain. But I would pay twice the going rate for your opinion.”

  “I’m sorry. I am going to pretend this conversation never took place. Please excuse me.” Dan walked away back to Kate and took his seat again, a grin on his face like that on the proverbial Cheshire cat.

  Chapter

  • 4 •

  Joy called out from her office, “It’s the first Monday. Have we got the fire bucket ready?” She got no answer and wondered why. It was five minutes past eight, so Kate should be on the desk. “Hello! Anyone there?”

  Getting no reply, Joy went to see why. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw that Stephie was back from New Zealand. But where had her long, lank brown hair; her sallow skin; her expressionless face gone? In their place was short, bouncy hair with blond highlights, a tanned face and a bright, bubbly expression. “Stephie! You’re back!”

  Kate said, “I’m speechless. I didn’t recognize her when she came in.”

  “I can’t believe this. My dear. Welcome back. So this is what New Zealand has done for you. I think I’ll be on the next flight. Book me a ticket, quick.”

  Kate nodded in agreement. “Me too. God! What a change. You look fabulous.”

  “You like my new look, then?”

  “Like it! We’re dead envious, aren’t we, Kate?”

  “We most certainly are.”

  Stephie explained. “It was my cousin; she persuaded me. I feel a fool, really.” She looked at Kate for reassurance.

  “You don’t look it. You look great.”

  Joy asked her if the wedding went off all right.

  “Well, apart from a massive rainstorm while we were in church—thunder, lightning, the works—it went off fine. Except the best man couldn’t find the ring, and the prawn cocktails were off so we couldn’t eat them, and the bride’s father got the worse for drink and gave a hilarious speech. Yes, it all went well.”

  Kate asked her what the best man was like.

  “He was superb! In fact…”

  Joy and Kate prompted her to continue. “Yes?”

  “He’ll be over here at Christmas.”

  “Will he indeed!” Joy wagged her finger at Stephie. “Coming to see you, is he?”

  “Well, I might see him; might, you know. But he is writing.”

  Joy gave her a hug. “I’m so glad you had such a wonderful time. Sorry to bring you back down to earth, but we must press on.” She retreated to her office, smiling to herself, thinking what an amazing effect an interesting man can have on a girl.

  Stephie filled Kate in on the details between dealing with clients and answering the phone. They had a busy morning ahead of them with a full appointment lis
t for the general clinic and a full one for Mungo’s orthopedic clinic too.

  Stephie put down the receiver after battling to fit in yet another client for the small animal clinic and said, “Don’t you think we’re busier than ever?”

  “I’m certain we are. I’ve been working whole days while you’ve been away because of Lynne.”

  “What’s the matter with her?”

  “Virus.” A man was standing at the desk, a long-haired ginger cat in his arms. “Good morning. How can I help?”

  “I’ve found this cat by the side of the road, laid in the gutter. I think it’s been run over.”

  Kate felt Stephie give her a slight kick with her foot. “I see. Where?”

  “Near the precinct, by the parking garage. It was crying; that was why I noticed it.”

  Kate leaned forward to look more closely at the cat. “Poor thing. Lucky you found it. It looks very unkempt, as if it’s a stray. Look, put it in this box and I’ll get one of our vets to attend to it. I can’t take it in unless I have a name and address. Really, the RSPCA would be the best place.”

  Quickly the man said, “Can’t get there; no car. Too far out.”

  Kate nodded. “I see.” Stephie passed her the clipboard, and Kate picked up her pen. “Right, sir. You’re Mr …. ?”

  “ … Thomas.”

  “And your address?”

  The man hesitated, then said, “This cat’s not mine, you know, not mine no, no.”

  “But surely you’d be interested to know how it gets on?”

  “Oh yes, yes. It’s … 43 Oakroyd … Gardens.”

  “And your phone number?”

  “Not on the phone.”

  “Perhaps you have a phone number at work?”

  “No, that wouldn’t do. They don’t encourage private calls.”

  Stephie asked, “Just a minute. Where did you say you found it?”