‘When can we move in?’ I ask, looking back at the house as he drives us away.
‘Within the week,’ he replies, and I wish he didn’t look quite so smug at the prospect of him and Mum having Petals to themselves. ‘We’ll deal with the paperwork and then go out and celebrate.’
We have a quick coffee at the Dog and Duck before Ross returns to the manor to go out for a ride on his bike.
Later the same day, Taylor tries to persuade me to change my mind. I meet her at the Talymill Inn, taking up her offer of staying over at her place for the night. I’d thought the prospect of a house party would be uppermost in her mind, but she isn’t happy about my plans.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Taylor says over a large glass of Prosecco. ‘You tried to stay friends with Mitch after you broke up and look what’s happened.’
‘Where is he? I did text him.’
‘I’m afraid he’s feeling neglected since you let him down at the show. Don’t worry about it. He’ll come round.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I stare into my wine glass, where a single bubble rises slowly to the top. ‘He’s always been cool about it, about us.’
‘Not that cool, as it turns out, not since the new vet rode into your life on that sexy motorbike. The trouble is that it’s true that you always want what you can’t have and, now he knows for sure that he’s lost you, he wishes he’d gone about things differently.’
‘It has nothing to do with Ross.’
‘Are you sure about that? Come on, Shannon. It seems a bit of a coincidence that you spoke to Mitch not long after Ross appeared on the scene.’ She smiles. ‘You can squirm as much as you like, but I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘Some people can deal with continuing to sleep with their exes, but I realised I wasn’t one of them, that’s all.’ I run my fingers up and down the stem of my wineglass. ‘It’s hard to explain. It didn’t feel right any more.’
Taylor arches one eyebrow as she plays with a beer mat, flicking it over and over on the table.
I fetch two more glasses of Prosecco.
‘You might think you’re capable of being just friends with Ross, but romance and lust could be bubbling up under the surface, ready to burst out at any opportunity – and there will be an awful lot of opportunities when you’re living together. Are you sure he doesn’t want more out of this? If anything does happen, it could make life very awkward. How will you feel if you do fancy him, and he brings a girl back? Have you talked about that?’ She interprets my silence correctly as a ‘no’. ‘What about you? Will you feel comfortable taking a guy back for coffee?’
‘Keep going,’ I say mutinously. ‘Give me the complete reality check.’
‘Oh, I’m going to,’ she says with a smile. ‘You’ve said he’s untidy at work. What will it be like living with him?’
‘We’ll share the cleaning and cooking.’
‘Dating while sharing a house could get very messy. It should be a slow reveal. I mean, you don’t want your date to know how much time it’s taken you to make yourself look amazing, do you? When you live with someone, they know from day one how long you spend on your hair and make-up, and ugh, gross, they see you without it. You know how you like to look good.’ Taylor warms to her theme. ‘What if you date, break up and have to continue living together? Can you imagine the stress?’
‘His ex, Heidi, is still in love with him – she lives in hope that they’ll get back together and, although he says he wouldn’t get back with her, I’m pretty sure he has feelings for her. They shared a bedroom at the manor when she stayed over for the show, so any relationship is off-limits.’
‘How can you be sure he will stick to that? Would you want to move in with a boyfriend before you even went on a first date? No, I thought not. Yet that’s what could be about to happen – and who will be left to pick up the pieces? Me.’ Her tone softens. ‘All I’m asking is that you reconsider.’
‘It’s too late. We’ve put down a deposit and we’re moving in next Saturday.’
‘I think you’re mad, but there’s always the faint possibility he wants you as a housemate so you can introduce him to lots of hot girls.’
It hadn’t occurred to me.’
‘I’m not interested. I’m not looking any more.’ Taylor giggles.
‘Have I missed something? I say, frowning.
‘His name is Dave.’ She leans towards me with a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. ‘He’s the new chef at the garden centre. Invite me to your housewarming and I’ll introduce you.’
‘Has he asked you out?’
‘Of course not.’ She grins. ‘I asked him. For once, Fifi listened to one of my suggestions for the garden centre, which was bringing in a fresh eye when it came to the food. The restaurant is stuck in a rut, serving the same old English breakfast, tea and cakes, and roast dinners as it’s always done. People want more nowadays. Their tastes have changed. They want bruschetta and ciabatta, lamb tagine and couscous.’
‘Are you sure? I’ve always been under the impression that customers go there because it’s boring and predictable, and therefore they know exactly what they’re getting.’
‘I think it’s time to shake things up. Innovation, planning and execution.’
‘You’ve been doing too many courses.’
‘Maybe, but I’m determined to make a go of it. One day, I’ll run my own business, although it won’t be a garden centre.’
‘What’s this Dave like, then?’ I’m pleased for her – Taylor ended a long-term relationship earlier this year. The guy was one of the engineers who worked on the farm machinery for her father. He was pleasant enough and reasonably good-looking, but I can only describe him as oily – and that’s in more ways than one, with his dirty nails and greasy attitude to women. He thought nothing of chatting me up at parties if Taylor wasn’t about, and on one particular occasion, when we were at Talymouth’s answer to Blissfields last summer, he tried to kiss me. Mitch saw him off and I told Taylor, but she forgave him, saying it was the drink. It wasn’t until the New Year when she found texts from another woman on his mobile that she saw him for what he was and dumped him. ‘How old is he? What does he look like?’
‘He’s lovely, and looks delicious in his chef’s whites. He’s divorced and has a three-year-old daughter who’s living with his ex-wife – he has her two nights a week. He’s funny, kind . . . and he’s Irish.’ She pauses. ‘It’s all right, I’m not letting my imagination run away with me this time.’
‘That sounds like a good plan,’ I agree. I wish I could do the same.
Chapter Twelve
Moving On Up
Maz offers us the use of the Fox-Giffords’ horsebox as a removal van. Ross takes up her offer, while I take my possessions, consisting of a few bags and boxes, a suitcase and duvet, in my car.
I’m at home – that sounds strange because in another hour or so it won’t be home any more – packing the last few bits and pieces in my room, when Mum walks in and sits on the bed. Seven jumps up beside her.
‘You don’t have to rush off, you know. It’s all been rather a whirlwind,’ she begins. ‘I’m going to miss you.’
‘I won’t be far away. I thought you wanted this place to yourselves.’
‘Shannon, darling, you have to admit it’s felt a little crowded at times, but now . . .’ She plays with a loose thread on the mattress. ‘It’s silly but it feels like the end of an era. My little girl is finally leaving home.’
My heart aches for her. I move around the bed and give her a hug. ‘I might be back, like one of those boomerang kids. Who knows?’
‘You’re always welcome, remember that. Drop in for tea anytime.’
‘Of course I will. Seven will still want his walks.’ I shove a pair of socks into a bag and suppress the sadness that wells up inside me at the thought of leaving him behind. I’d love to take him with me, but Mum needs him and I couldn’t leave him home alone all day. It wouldn’t be fair. ‘You don’t walk him through
the churchyard any more,’ I say quietly. ‘Godfrey didn’t know about Dad being there. He said you hadn’t really talked about him.’ I look towards the mantelpiece above the fireplace. There’s a photo of my father dressed in an Exeter City football shirt – he was a keen supporter who spent Saturday afternoons following his team.
Mum follows my gaze.
‘You probably won’t understand. I don’t want to go on about how wonderful your dad was in front of Godfrey – behind the bluster, he’s a sensitive soul and he might feel that he can never match him.’
‘But it feels like you’ve erased him from your memory,’ I argue, hurt on my father’s behalf.
‘I’m sorry for upsetting you, but we deal with things in different ways. I loved your dad and I love Godfrey too, and I can’t stay stuck in the past.’ She hesitates. ‘Would you like a hand with those bags?’
‘Please.’ I hand her my sports bag with my swimming kit, then grab the photo of my dad and tuck it into the pocket of my suitcase, before picking the case up and taking it outside to the car. Seven waits on the doorstep, sniffing at the air and watching Mum and me stacking my luggage in the boot.
‘That’s it.’ I try to shut the tailgate as my belongings start to spill out again.
‘Not quite.’ She dashes back indoors as I squash everything back in.
‘You’ve done it.’ Mum returns with a massive bouquet of flowers – roses, lilies, gypsophila and blue-green foliage. ‘For you and Ross, as a moving-in present.’ She presses them into my arms and I thank her, swallowing past the lump that forms in my throat.
When I’m driving to Talyford with the radio on, my regret at leaving is replaced by a sense of excitement and anticipation of what lies ahead. Ross is waiting when I pull in alongside his motorbike in the courtyard outside the house. He emerges from the front door with a bottle of beer in one hand.
‘You’re starting early,’ I smile. ‘It isn’t even lunchtime yet.’
‘Might as well.’ He opens the boot of the car. ‘You look like you could do with some help. I’ve left my things in the hall and returned the horsebox. The groceries and booze have arrived so we’re ready to party.’
I grab the flowers from the passenger seat and hand them over to him.
‘You shouldn’t have,’ he teases.
‘They’re from my mother.’
He holds my gaze and my cheeks flood with heat.
‘That’s very sweet of her. Have you brought a vase?’
‘I didn’t think,’ I begin, ‘and me a florist’s daughter.’
‘We might find one indoors.’
The owner of the house is working on a long-term contract abroad and has left it fully furnished. I head inside, Ross following on behind me with his beer and the bouquet. In the kitchen, I look in several of the cupboards until I find a suitable receptacle in the form of a red bucket.
‘This will do for now,’ I say, filling it with water and a sachet of flower food before placing the flowers into it. ‘Where shall we put them?’
‘You choose – you’re the lady of the house.’
I leave them on the breakfast bar and survey the worktops where Ross has left the bags of groceries.
‘What are you doing?’ he says as I turn my attention to them.
‘What do you think?’ I open the fridge to put the butter, bacon and sausages away, but it’s full of wine and beer. ‘You can’t leave all that in there. What about the food?’
‘You have to get your priorities right.’
‘Very funny’. I say dryly.
‘It won’t go off – we’ll have eaten it by the morning. It’s going to be a great party.’ Ross grins. ‘Relax, Shannon. Have a drink.’
‘Not yet,’ I say, feeling a little awkward because we are no longer at work or out and about, and I realise that I don’t know him as well as I imagined – and he doesn’t really know me either.
‘There are some veggie sausages somewhere in those bags. I remembered. This is going to work,’ he says quietly. ‘I’m going to be the best housemate you’ve never had.’
I can’t help grinning. ‘You can start by helping me put everything away first.’
‘Of course. You want to show the place off.’
‘Well, yes.’ I walk across to the patio doors, push them open and look out at the view. The sun is blazing high in the sky and a buzzard circles above the black and white cows in the field beyond. I can’t resist the urge to run across the lawn to the hedge, screaming. I reach the end of the garden and turn to find Ross staring in my direction.
‘You’re mad,’ he yells.
‘Delirious,’ I shout back as I look at the house. This is our home for at least a year, and suddenly life seems like a great adventure.
‘What will the neighbours think?’
‘I didn’t think you’d care!’
He laughs as I jog back across the grass.
‘Let’s get the place exactly how we want it.’
‘All right then. I guess the sooner it’s done, the sooner we can chill. Heidi was the same when we moved in together – although it was under different circumstances,’ he adds quickly.
Heidi again, making a small hiccup in my happiness. Why, I don’t know. She’s bringing Bart with her tonight and staying for the party, but ultimately it has nothing to do with me who Ross decides to invite.
We return inside; he sets up his speakers to play music while I sort out the kitchen and carry my bags to my room. I unpack, hang my clothes in the wardrobe, and shower and change into a long skirt and green vest top, which has a school of dolphins embroidered in silver thread on the front. I do my make-up and dry my hair, leaving it loose, and return downstairs.
The party starts at seven – we keep countryside hours in Talyton St George – and our guests start to arrive. Our immediate neighbours turn up and stay for an hour for a drink and pizza. Maz and Izzy, who are on call, make an appearance. A couple of Ross’s friends and their girlfriends arrive on motorbikes. They are what Fifi would describe as ‘respectable’ people, with degrees, good jobs and haircuts.
Taylor brings Dave, the chef, with her. Ross offers them beer or wine.
‘Or both,’ he laughs, ‘depending on your preference. Let me guess. You are Taylor.’ He grasps her by the shoulders and kisses her on both cheeks, making her blush. ‘And this is?’
‘Dave,’ she says, stepping aside to allow them to shake hands and give me time to assess her new boyfriend. He’s taller than Ross, dark-haired, confident and smiling. He wears jeans and an orange T-shirt that seems to emphasise rather than disguise the fact that he has man-boobs and a paunch. Considering how particular Taylor is about appearances, I’m surprised at her choice.
‘Hello.’ He holds up two bottles and thrusts them into Ross’s hands. ‘It’s great to meet you,’ he goes on in a strong Irish accent. ‘It’s a lovely place that you have.’
Everyone has drifted out onto the patio to enjoy the evening sunshine, and we show Taylor and Dave through to the kitchen where they linger for a while as Ross fills the last empty glass and a mug with red wine.
‘What’s that burning?’ Dave asks.
I turn to the oven. ‘Oh no, who left the pizzas in?’ I move to open the door, but he beats me to it.
‘I’ll get it.’
‘No, you mustn’t,’ I say. ‘You aren’t at work now.’
‘It’s all right,’ he grins, as he opens the door, releasing a cloud of smoke, grabs a tea towel and pulls out two blackened objects that look like frisbees. He drops them in the bin.
I open a couple of fresh ones, but Dave takes over. Taylor touches my arm.
‘Leave him. He’s a workaholic.’
He smiles at her. ‘You’ll always find me in the kitchen at parties. Have you any cheese? Chili? These could do with spicing up.’
‘Yes, chef,’ I giggle.
Ross finds some extra toppings and grates cheese while Taylor and I look on.
‘Have you got any salad?’ Dave ask
s, as Bart comes running into the kitchen and jumps up at Ross, licking at his hands and face.
‘Get down,’ he says, but Bart takes no notice until Heidi strolls in behind him. She looks amazing in a low-cut floral top, jeans and heels. Taylor gives me a look as Heidi puts her bag on the worktop, kisses Ross on the cheek and picks up a bottle of wine.
‘Where are the glasses, darling?’
‘You’ll have to have it in a mug, I’m afraid,’ Ross says.
‘Oh god, you’re really slumming it. Never mind. It’ll taste the same.’ She checks the label. ‘Pretty awful, I imagine.’ She changes the subject. ‘I’d like you to have a look at Bart’s tail. I took him to see your dad, who gave me some cream to put on the scab, but it’s no better.’
‘What did you go and do that for?’ Ross says, annoyed.
‘What am I supposed to do when you’ve abandoned your only child and moved so far away?’
I glance at Taylor who rolls her eyes. Dave turns his attention to Bart.
‘What a fantastic dog,’ he says, bending down to let the dog sniff his hand, at which he snarls and lunges at him, grabbing Dave’s hand with his massive teeth. ‘Ouch!’ Dave yelps as Ross dives in to pull the dog off by the collar.
‘What the . . . ?’ I exclaim.
‘Bart, that’s enough,’ Ross scolds. He turns to Dave. ‘I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?’
As Taylor takes her boyfriend’s hand to inspect the damage, he sways. I grab a chair.
‘Sit down,’ I say, placing it behind him. ‘You’ve had a shock.’
He takes a seat, his face pale and shiny with sweat.
‘It’s all right. I’m fine. No harm done,’ he says, repeating himself several times.
‘You’ve been lucky,’ Taylor says, giving him a beer. ‘There are teeth marks, but he hasn’t broken the skin.’
‘Ross, aren’t you going to put the dog away? He can stay in my room for the duration,’ I say.
‘There’s no need for that,’ he says gruffly. ‘Dave must have reminded him of someone in his past. He wouldn’t actually hurt anyone.’
Vets of the Heart Page 18
