Springtime at Wildacre: the gorgeously uplifting, feel-good romance (Animal Ark Revisited Book 3)

by Lucy Daniels

  ‘Miss Hope. I was hoping it would be you.’ Mr Thomas looked dashing as ever in his Harris Tweed as he rushed up the front path to meet her.

  He’s anxious, Mandy thought.

  She opened the boot and pulled on her waterproof trousers and the short green calving overall that would keep her dry and clean. Last, she pulled out a pair of long waterproof gloves, a pair of lambing ropes and some lubricant.

  ‘Daffodil’s in the shed,’ he told her. ‘She’s in a pen this time,’ he added. The last time Mandy had visited Daffodil, she and Mr Thomas had spent over an hour trying to catch the wily ewe. He trotted ahead, round the side of the house and into the small yard. He slid open the door to the old-fashioned byre that Mandy remembered so well from her previous visit. ‘The others are all outside,’ Mr Thomas told her as he waved her through. ‘It’s just Daffodil today.’ He followed her inside. ‘Her waters broke an hour ago,’ Mr Thomas said. ‘I’ve been waiting for something to happen, but every time I come out, she just looks at me.’

  Despite her nerves, the sight of Daffodil standing in the deep straw of the low barn steadied Mandy. The little ewe needed her help. She walked across to the smaller penned area and climbed over the wooden fence. Daffodil stamped a foot as she approached, but it was the work of a moment to capture the neat head.

  Mr Thomas climbed into the pen behind Mandy.

  ‘Can you help me lay her down?’ Mandy asked. Between them, they lay the small body down on the clean straw. Mandy picked up the bottle of lubricant and squeezed some out onto her right hand. She knelt down. This was the moment of truth, she thought.

  Lifting Daffodil’s short tail, she inserted her fingers into the birth canal. She had half hoped to find at least a foot there, but there was nothing. She pushed her hand a little further inside. There was still nothing. Had Mr Thomas been mistaken about the waters breaking? she wondered. She edged her fingers in right to the cervix, and there it was, a tiny twitching nose. She breathed in, then let her breath out slowly.

  The lamb was alive at least. Her fingers explored further. Around the nose, instead of being wide open, the cervix was still half closed. She felt around some more. The band was tight and thick. There was no way the lamb would come through.

  She thought back to a conversation she’d had with Adam, back at the beginning when she was just starting out. ‘If the cervix isn’t open, we used to try and stretch it,’ he’d said. ‘But there’s a high risk of damage. If the owner’s willing, it’s better to operate.’ She felt round the obstruction again. She couldn’t even get her fingers past to explore the size of the lamb. The little nose twitched again.

  Mandy pulled her hand out and straightened up. Mr Thomas was gazing at her. His eyes were brimming with confidence. Mandy wished she shared his certainty. ‘How’s she getting on?’ he asked.

  Mandy squared her shoulders. ‘I’m afraid Daffodil’s cervix hasn’t opened properly,’ she began. ‘The lamb’s alive, but it won’t come out.’

  ‘So what do you recommend?’ Mr Thomas was watching her carefully, waiting for her to tell him what she was going to do. Mandy met his gaze. She had to keep her fears under control or she would be no good to anyone.

  ‘We could wait,’ she said. She shuffled her knees. She seemed to be kneeling on something hard under the straw. ‘The cervix might open more, or it might not.’

  ‘I see.’ He nodded. ‘And if not, the lamb might die.’ Mr Thomas caught on fast, Mandy thought.

  ‘That’s right,’ she confirmed. She took a deep breath. ‘The other possibility is a caesarean,’ she said. She ignored the tremor in her stomach. The words were out there now. If Mr Thomas wanted to go ahead, she would have to do the operation.

  ‘Well then,’ Mr Thomas was smiling, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. ‘If that’s what she needs, then please do go ahead. What will you need?’

  ‘Daffodil can stand up for the moment,’ Mandy told him. She got up from her knees and helped Mr Thomas to his feet. ‘I could do with some kind of table for my kit, and two or three buckets of warm water,’ Mandy told him.

  She climbed back over the railings and made her way back to her car. Opening the boot, she picked out her surgical kit, clippers, antiseptic scrub and suture material. What else might she need? Her hands were shaking. She gripped her fingers, then loosened them again. Local anaesthetic. Antibiotic injection. Gloves.

  Mandy walked back from the car on knees that didn’t feel quite steady. This would be her first caesarean since Zoe, her first ever on a sheep. Her dad’s voice echoed in her head. ‘You’re a great vet.’

  Mum and Dad had been so wonderful. She remembered Mum’s story about Jean’s dog Trixie. It must have been awful, but Mum was a brilliant vet. Her fantastic mum, who could no longer do the work she loved. She had to do this. Mum and Dad had never needed her more.

  Mr Thomas greeted her at the barn door. ‘I’ve brought you a bale of straw as a table, will that do?’ He seemed so calm and confident in her ability.

  And I have to live up to that.

  ‘That’s great,’ she answered. A bale would be perfect. Not too big in the tiny pen, not too tall when she would be operating on her knees. They climbed back into the pen together and Mr Thomas steadied Daffodil as Mandy set out her kit. Drape first to cover the hay. Sterile pack and scalpel blade. Surgical gloves. She checked and double-checked in her mind. Did she have everything?

  She turned to Daffodil. The little ewe had finally lain down. As Mandy watched, she lifted her tail and her flank bulged. As she strained, she let out an anguished bleat of pain.

  Mr Thomas held her still and Mandy put a hand on the woolly rump. ‘We’ll have it out of there in a few minutes. It’ll all be fine,’ she murmured, hardly knowing if she was speaking to Daffodil or herself.

  With efficient movements, she clipped away the thick wool, then washed the skin clean. Lastly, she put in the local anaesthetic and gave one final scrub.

  This was it. There was no going back.

  ‘Hold her tight for me,’ Mandy said to Mr Thomas. He shuffled closer on his knees and redoubled his grip.

  She lifted up the scalpel handle and slid the blade into place. The scrubbed skin of Daffodil’s flank was soft and rounded. Mandy’s hand was steady as she cut. Through the skin, through the muscle and she was into the abdomen. She could see the shiny pink surface of the uterus. Inside, there was movement. The lamb was still alive.

  Mandy reached her hand inside the sheep’s belly. Through the uterine wall, she could feel the lamb. She grasped the hind leg and wielded her scalpel again, running the blade across the surface of the womb with featherlight fingers. She had to get this right. If she cut too deep, the lamb would be injured. If she didn’t cut far enough, the uterus would tear. The incision needed to be as long as the hind leg, from hock to hoof.

  A moment later she was through. Keeping the uterus clear of the abdomen, Mandy took hold of the tiny leg. Reaching in, she felt the second back leg. Holding them together, she lifted the lamb and it slid into view: hips, chest, shoulders and finally, the head.

  She cleared the airway, then laid the lamb down on the clean straw and began to rub its back. Then the little chest jerked as it took its first breath and then another. Lifting its head, the newborn lamb shook its head, ears flapping noisily. Eyes wide, it gazed around then shook its head again.

  Mandy could have watched all day, but she had to return to the task in hand. She turned back to the ewe. There was a second lamb. She had felt another foot. Reaching inside, she found the foot again. She found a second and then a blunt little nose. This lamb was coming out headfirst. She gripped both forelimbs in her right hand and the head in her left. Holding her breath, she pulled steadily.

  Mr Thomas gasped. ‘Another one?’

  A moment later, the second lamb had been born. She laid the second small frame gently onto the straw and heaved a sigh of relief. This lamb was alive as well. Lamb number one was already starting to make wobbly efforts to
rise. Both were healthy.

  Mandy washed her hands, then checked the uterus again, but there were no more lambs. It was time to close up. She sutured the uterine wall, then the muscle and skin. Long before the last stitch was in place, both lambs were on their feet. Lamb number two seemed particularly fascinated with what was going on.

  ‘I think he’s trying to climb back in,’ Mr Thomas said with a grin.

  ‘I don’t blame him,’ Mandy replied. ‘I’m sure it was warmer in there.’

  She finished the final layer and straightened. It was hard work bending forwards and the muscles round her abdomen were aching. Putting her hands on her hips, she stretched, then pulled herself slowly to her feet. ‘She can get up now,’ she told Mr Thomas and he released the ewe.

  It took only a moment for Daffodil to rise and inspect her lambs. They were still unsteady in the deep straw, but Daffodil went to first one and then the other, sniffing them. Then she started to lick. She seemed completely oblivious to Mandy as she gave the low grumbling nicker that ewes only ever made when they saw their newborn lambs. It was a wonderful sound.

  Mr Thomas was still only halfway to his feet. Mandy found she had tears on her face, but she wiped them away and he made no comment as she offered him her hand. ‘I think she’s healthier than me,’ he joked when he finally made it to his feet. He patted her on the shoulder. ‘You’ve done a wonderful job.’

  She helped Mr Thomas climb back out of the pen. Daffodil was doing amazingly well. The wound on her side was a row of neat stitches. Her attention was all on her lambs. They were already reaching under her, searching unsteadily for the source of the milk that would sustain them over the coming weeks.

  ‘Will you have a cup of tea this time?’ Mr Thomas had finally stopped stamping the feeling back into his toes and he leaned on the gate beside her. ‘You were too busy the last time you were here. Say you have time today. Please?’

  He was so earnest. Was he lonely, she wondered, up here with just his sheep for company? Her lunch with Jimmy could wait a little longer, she thought. She could stay and celebrate the arrival of Daffodil’s lambs over tea.

  Mandy smiled. ‘That would be lovely.’

  As well as tea, Mr Thomas had plied her with teacakes and cheese around the small pine table in his spotless kitchen. To top it off, he had slipped a jar of homemade jam into her hand as she stood up to leave. ‘I make it myself,’ he’d assured her. ‘It’s very good.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ she said.

  ‘It’s me that should thank you,’ he said. ‘Will you take another look at her before you go?’

  Mandy couldn’t resist. ‘I’d love to,’ she said.

  They strolled across the yard to the byre. Daffodil and her lambs were standing in the centre of the strawed area. Daffodil turned her head, glared at them as they came in and stamped her foot.

  ‘She’s always been spirited,’ Mr Thomas said, looking at Daffodil fondly.

  Mandy wanted to laugh. Despite having had an operation under an hour ago, Daffodil was no longer oblivious to their presence. She looked like she would fight Mandy to the death if she tried to get anywhere near the lambs now. The two youngsters were also doing well. They stood close to their mother’s flank, staring at Mandy from wide eyes. Their reddish-brown wool had been licked dry. Daffodil stamped her foot again.

  ‘We’d better leave her to it,’ Mandy murmured.

  ‘I think you’re right.’ He patted her shoulder again as they made their way round to the car.

  Halfway home, Mandy pulled into a layby and stopped. She felt like she needed a minute to herself before plunging back into the chaos of Animal Ark. She pushed the door open and climbed out. The cool breeze lifted her hair, sending a tiny shiver down her spine. She breathed deeply, lifted her hands into the air and stretched her shoulders. It was a beautiful day. In front of her, the road meandered across the moorland through short-cropped grass and springing heather. Clumps of cottongrass bent their heads as the wind flitted over the austere landscape. In the distance, she could see the craggy summit of Askwith Tor. In winter storms the moor was bleak, but now it was gentled by the late spring sunshine and the enormous cerulean sky. A bee buzzed across the tarmac to land on a dandelion at Mandy’s feet, then bumbled away in search of another flower.

  I did it. Everything’s going to be all right.

  Chapter Thirty

  Mandy turned into the lane that led to Animal Ark. It was almost time for dinner, she thought. Not that she was hungry; Mr Thomas had seen to that. Dad was on duty this evening, but it was too late to go to Jimmy’s. The animals in Hope Meadows needed to be fed and cleaned out.

  Nicole would be there. Mandy tried to figure out how she was going to ask her if she could work more. Not that she had much doubt that Nicole would say yes. She was so enthusiastic that it was difficult to keep her away, but Mandy couldn’t afford to pay her anything. She should have been more organised with trying to get funding. It always seemed to get put to the bottom of the list. Still, looking on the bright side, she was very lucky to have Nicole. She was so good with the animals. Even the difficult Brutus responded well to her gentle patience.

  Mandy pulled into the parking area beside the house and made her way round to the rescue centre. She paused on the flagstone path to take in the moment. The sweet trilling song of a wren sounded from the orchard. In the distance, she could hear the low drone of a tractor. The air was beginning to cool, but it carried the sweet scent of moorland flowers.

  Her eyes wandered from the soaring fellside to Hope Meadows itself. She loved the wonderful building, which blended so beautifully into the landscape with its stone walls and wooden beams. Her heart still lifted every time she walked through the door. Even if they were scaling back, it would be waiting when everything was more settled. For now, Hattie and Tablet and Brutus and Mumma still needed her help. Jimmy would be taking the kittens soon and Holly and Robin were already established in their new home.

  The door was unlocked. Nicole must already be here, she thought. She pushed it open and was hit by a wave of chatter. Jimmy was there, talking to Mum and Dad. Helen and Seb were with Rachel. Gran and Grandad too. As she walked in, silence fell and a row of beaming faces turned to greet her.

  Before she could open her mouth, Nicole rushed across the room. She stopped right in front of Mandy, red faced and grinning. ‘We got the funding,’ she cried. ‘They called earlier. I wanted to give you a nice surprise this time so I called everyone and they all came and … and …’ She trailed off, breathless. Mandy wanted to laugh. Nicole usually didn’t say much at all. Now she was almost gabbling with excitement. ‘You’ve to call them back as soon as you can,’ Nicole went on. ‘Can you do it now, please? It’s so amazing I can hardly believe it. It won’t be true until you say so.’ She thrust the phone into Mandy’s hand. ‘Do phone now. Please.’

  Mandy took the phone, hardly knowing what to think. Could it really be true? She felt as if she was floating. Had Nicole pulled it off after all, despite the awful inspection?

  Surely not … we were terrible!

  ‘Walmey Foundation, Clarissa speaking.’ The voice on the phone was as brisk as ever.

  ‘Hello.’ Mandy had to work to get the words out. ‘It’s Mandy Hope from Hope Meadows here. Nicole Woodall asked me to call you.’

  The faces of her family and friends in front of her reflected her own hope and terror. She hoped she was managing to sound casual and not like her heart was in her mouth.

  ‘Mandy! Thank you for calling back.’ Clarissa sounded as if she was smiling. ‘As Nicole probably told you, we want to offer you one of this year’s awards. You’re still within the first twelve months of opening, so Hope Meadows is eligible for the maximum payment.’

  Mandy found she was holding her breath. The figure Clarissa mentioned took her breath away altogether. She had to double-check that she’d heard.

  ‘Thank you,’ she stammered when she was finally certain she wasn’t dreaming. Nicole loo
ked like she was about to burst with tension, so Mandy gave everyone a quick thumbs up. The room exploded into silent celebration. Nicole jumped up and down, her parents and grandparents hugged and Jimmy punched the air. Mandy turned away, stifling a grin and trying to concentrate on what Clarissa had just said. The donation was more than enough to cover all her costs. She could pay Nicole. If necessary, she could even hire someone else. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said again.

  ‘Congratulations.’ Clarissa sounded pleased. Mandy wondered what it must feel like to give such life-changing news. ‘We were very impressed with you and with Hope Meadows.’

  ‘Were you really?’ The words burst from Mandy before she had time to think. She let her head fall back against the wall. ‘… I mean, I thought the visit had been a disaster,’ she stammered. ‘With the brush and all the barking and …’ Her face reddened again as she remembered falling over. Every single animal in the place had been wound up. That the inspectors had seen beyond that was a miracle.

  Clarissa sounded amused. ‘I could see you were nervous,’ she said. ‘I felt so sorry for you, but it was obvious how much you care. You’re doing a great job for the animals and for the surrounding area.’

  For the first time in ages, Mandy felt tongue-tied. Hope Meadows hadn’t even been open a year. She’d had so many setbacks. In Autumn last year, she had been attacked by Stuart Mortimore, the troubled nephew of the previous owner of Wildacre, who had believed the cottage to be rightfully his. Over the past few weeks she had angered the locals when the building of the factory had come under threat. Only this morning, she had been facing the likelihood that she might not be able to take any new rescues. It was amazing to be told that the inspectors had seen the good she was doing and were able to solve the crisis. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said finally. ‘And can you pass my thanks on to Anthony? It really does mean so much to me.’