Summer with the Country Village Vet

by Zara Stoneley

  ‘So you really don’t want to stay? Oh God, what a shame, you and Charlie are the most exciting thing that’s happened here in ages.’

  ‘It is lovely here, and you are, but I have got my house and this is just temporary.’ She frowned. ‘Except everybody just seems to assume I’ll be round for a while.’

  ‘You’re not wrong on that one.’ It was certainly what Miss Harrington seemed to think. ‘So why not stay, sell your house? If you like it here.’

  ‘It’s just, well I thought I’d left village life behind, I er,’ she seemed to be struggling for the right thing to say. ‘I love the challenge of city kids, it’s different here, they don’t need me the same.’ She glanced at Sally, then back at her glass of wine. ‘I don’t belong here.’

  ‘Oh that’s rubbish, you’re already the talk of the place,’ she grinned at the look Lucy threw her, ‘and for all the right reasons. And it’s not such a bad place.’ Sally was pretty sure she’d only wanted to escape to prove she could, not because she wanted to. ‘And what about all that lonely in the city stuff?’

  ‘I felt lonelier in a village to be honest.’ Lucy swirled the wine in her glass. ‘I suppose it’s fine if you feel you belong, but being surrounded by a crowd who don’t want you is worse than being on your own. The city primary school I went to was pretty rubbish as well, I actually found it easier once I got thrown into a big secondary school, I wasn’t the odd one out any more. Then I loved it at Uni. There were no prying eyes, it was a fresh start. I wasn’t the only one with a broken family.’ She shrugged. ‘Nobody judges in a city school, we’re all struggling, all pulling together to make things better, and I guess I feel like I understand those kids, how they feel, I can make a real difference.’

  ‘Oh.’ Sally frowned. ‘You can make a real difference here you know. This place needs new people, new ideas, and the kids need somebody who’s got a different, well, vision of stuff.’ She shrugged self-consciously. ‘They need to be shown the world, the opportunities, all the stuff I was never told.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And maybe times have changed a bit since you were a kid. Not that I’m saying you’re old.’ She laughed, trying to lighten Lucy’s mood. ‘But stuff is accepted more, villages aren’t as close knit as they used to be, and probably not as judgemental. People like me need people like you, Luce.’

  She glanced at her watch. She would have loved to suggest opening another bottle of wine, to have found out more about Lucy and why she wasn’t that keen on country living. But it would have to wait for another time. ‘Oh hell, is that the time? I’ve got to go and check up on a couple of cats that are in overnight. It’s been great to chat, and if you’re only staying a few weeks we’ve got to make sure you get a good night out in the Taverner’s before you go. Quiz night in there is as competitive as it gets.’ She put a hand on Lucy’s arm. ‘How about the four of us make a team up? You, me, Matt and Jamie?’ She grinned. ‘I know Matt would jump at the chance, although you have to promise me you won’t kiss him.’

  ‘Kiss him? Why would I…’

  ‘That man has got so many notches on his bedpost it’s fancier than a totem pole.’

  Lucy laughed. ‘Well I’ve nothing against a nice totem pole.’

  ‘Lucy!’

  ‘He’s not exactly going to get the chance to break down my defences and my heart in just five weeks, is he?’

  Chapter 7

  The feet still hadn’t moved. Lucy had noticed them the moment she sat down on the toilet seat and her mobile phone had buzzed.

  She’d sworn she’d never, ever, text on the loo again – after the time her mobile had dived between her legs on a suicide mission and she’d had a choice of donning rubber gloves, or risking flushing it away. But she couldn’t help it, she had to look. Once the quiz started she’d have to switch it off or risk being labelled a cheat.

  She was glad she’d checked. It was a text from Sarah at Starbaston.

  Twat face made me cover class 6. Jason relabelled Uranus on the wall chart as rectum and I never noticed, and Britney wanted to know why all the vampires aren’t dead if moonlight is reflected sunlight. Send gin, I am broken. Sarah x

  She tried not to giggle, as the feet outside shifted impatiently, and tapped a reply.

  Britney has a point. Gin on way – if don’t drink it all myself. Pub quiz! Catch you later. Loo x

  Dropping the phone in her bag, she pulled the old fashioned chain which gave a very satisfying clunk before whooshing a volume of water that definitely wasn’t eco-friendly into the toilet bowl. At least out here they still knew how to flush their problems effectively away.

  She flung the door open to find the owner of the shoes stood between her and the washbasins. A portly figure with her arms folded, looking like she meant business. The other cubicle was empty. She’d been ambushed.

  She smiled and eased her way round the woman, racking her brains trying to remember who she was.

  ‘Now then, dear. I know you mean well,’ it had to be a parent, ‘but you have to understand how things are done round here. If it’s not broke then don’t mend it is what I say, if you know what I mean?’

  Lucy fought the urge to roll her eyes, and concentrated on washing her hands. One absolutely brilliant thing about teaching in a city was that the chances of bumping into a parent outside of school was practically zero. Life in a village was slightly different.

  Much as she loved the children, she didn’t really want to bump into them when she was loading her basket with wine in the post-office-cum-general-store (which had happened more than once), and she really, really didn’t want to get ambushed by angry parents in the washroom at the pub.

  ‘My Sophie,’ oh God this was Sophie’s mum, she’d heard my mam says enough times from the little girl – now she was going to get it from the woman herself. ‘My Sophie says I’m supposed to help her do her sums, now don’t get me wrong I’ve no objection to that, not that I’ve not got enough on my hands, but you’ve told her it all wrong.’ Lucy added more soap, carried on scrubbing her spotless hands, sensing it was futile trying to get a word in when the woman was in full flow anyway. ‘You’re doing sums with them differently. Now I’m sure you’re a very good teacher and all that, but there’s a time and place for these new-fangled ways, and the way I learned worked fine—’

  The woman wasn’t going to stop for breath. ‘Mrs Smith.’

  ‘Oh call me Jane, duck. Everybody does.’ Her arms were still folded, making her bulk practically impassable in the tiny room.

  ‘Jane, er, do you mind if we chat about this at school, it’s just Sally will be waiting…’ Lucy squeezed past her towards the hand dryer.

  ‘Oh I can come out and sit with you.’

  She flung the door open. If she moved quickly enough, surely she could disappear into the crowd? The pub was packed, and noisy.

  ‘Am I pleased to see you.’ Lucy had only taken a couple of steps when her arm was grabbed. ‘I’ve been looking all over, thought you’d done a runner as well.’

  Lucy threw an apologetic look in Jane’s direction, then frowned at Sally. ‘What do you mean as well?’

  ‘We’ve got a problem.’ Sally hissed in her ear and dragged her off to one side. ‘Sorry Jane, team tactics.’ She gave a thumbs up to Jane, who scowled like a cat that had been deprived of its mouse, before marching off to her own team who were sat in a huddle by the bar.

  ‘Tactics?’

  ‘Team tactics, as in how the hell will we win without one.’

  ‘You’ve lost me.’ Lucy had been pretty pleased about being rescued from Jane Smith, but was now wondering whether she’d have been better hiding out in the loos.

  ‘We’ve not lost you, we’ve lost Matt! The bugger has defected, look.’ Sally pointed at the small table under the darts board, where Matt had one hand on his pint, and the other on Jill’s shoulder. ‘Jill said she’d lost two of her team, which meant they only had two left. She’d been hoping to rope you in, but Matt offered. He s
aid them having three and us having three was fair.’

  ‘Well, it is isn’t it?’

  ‘No it bloody isn’t. He might look and play the dumb blond at times, but he can answer all the sports questions and a shit load of the music ones.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And we’re starting in five minutes, we’re going to be annihilated.’

  ‘So you’ve heard how bad I am?’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean that. But,’ Sally paused, ‘do you know anything about rugby?’

  ‘Zilch.’

  ‘Punk music?’

  ‘Not a lot.’

  ‘Hang on, I’ve just had an idea.’ She spun Lucy round and steered her away from the bar, and she found herself thrust against a tall, sturdy man. She cricked her neck trying to look up. He looked bemused and vaguely familiar.

  A face that was too like Matt’s, the one with the peculiar dog, for them to be anything but brothers. ‘Oh, er, hi, you must be James?’

  He looked down at her and grinned. ‘I love you already!’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Anybody who doesn’t call me Matt’s brother has to be alright.’

  Sally giggled and let go of her, which meant she could separate herself from his broad chest and take a step back to a civilised distance.

  ‘Call me Jamie though, only my mum calls me James. I’d shake hands but it seems a bit over the top after we’ve been pressed together like that.’

  ‘Right.’ Sally looked relieved that the two of them seemed to approve of each other. ‘You two sit down and get to know each other. I’ll be back in a second.’

  The idea was Charlie, who Sally towed over to the table a couple of minutes later.

  ‘Success!’ She pushed him onto the bench next to Lucy with a triumphant smile. ‘Shove up, we don’t want the next table to be able to overhear all our answers.’ She gave Charlie a pointed look, ‘I’m expecting you to know everything.’

  He shoved up. Until they were tightly sandwiched together. So tightly she could feel the ripple of thigh muscle as he leant forward to put his pint on the table.

  ‘Team talk.’ Sally motioned them inwards, and Lucy was pretty sure it was an excuse so she could get closer to Jamie. The girl had it bad.

  The only trouble was it meant she was closer to all of them, including Charlie. Embarrassingly close. The last time she’d been this close to him was when she’d kissed him. She tried not to sneak a sideways look, but she couldn’t help it. The brown gaze met her head on, he’d caught her out. Embarrassing. The only way was to brazen it out. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t do it again.’

  Sally glared, and Lucy felt like she’d been caught whispering in class.

  ‘Can you two chat later? This is serious.’ Then she paused and frowned. ‘You won’t do what again?’

  Charlie tapped on the sheet of paper that had been provided for them to write their answers on. ‘I thought you wanted a team talk?’

  He, at least didn’t seem too bothered, not like her. Maybe she’d imagined it, maybe she’d not actually kissed him. Or he hadn’t realised she had. She sneaked another look at him, under her eyelashes while he was occupied with Sally. He couldn’t have not realised. For a start he’d kept well away when she’d been in the surgery car park with the children, rehearsing for tomorrow, he’d not said a word to her.

  ‘Oh my God, we’re starting!’ Sally had her pencil poised, and the whole pub had fallen silent, apart from the odd thunk as glasses were placed on the table, and the scrape of chairs being shifted on the stone floor as the competitive spirit kicked in and people huddled together to avoid being overheard.

  Lucy hadn’t got a clue with most of the questions, for some reason people always assumed she’d have an excellent general knowledge being a school teacher. But she hadn’t. Unless you were talking about Ofsted regulations, or the school curriculum.

  ‘Which year did Bob the Builder have a number 1 Christmas hit?’

  All eyes swivelled in her direction, and Lucy shook her head. ‘Sorry, haven’t got a clue.’

  ‘But it’s a kid’s thing, isn’t it?’

  ‘Starbaston kids were more about Pokémon and Power Rangers.’

  Sally buried her head in her arms as Matt, over on the far table gave a whoop of delight.

  ‘Next question.’ Jim coughed and the crowd quietened again. ‘Rugby league…’

  ‘I need another drink.’ Sally put the pencil down in despair.

  ‘And this one is for all our pet lovers. How many claws does our domesticated moggy possess? Providing of course our veterinary in the corner hasn’t removed any.’ Jim chuckled.

  Charlie laughed good-naturedly and watched as Sally, cheering up a bit, scribbled the answer down.

  They just needed more animal questions, thought Lucy, and she really, really needed to be able to answer at least one question and not let her team down completely.

  ‘Now for a little culture ladies and gents.’ Jim was in his element as question master, and paused dramatically. ‘Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance March number one, is better known as?’

  ‘I know, I know!’ She knew an answer, she couldn’t believe it.

  Everybody had turned round, Matt’s chuckle rang across the bar and Jim winked. ‘The girl knows!’ There was a brief outbreak of applause and she felt herself turning pink, but she didn’t care, she couldn’t stop smiling.

  ‘I’ll give her team a bonus mark if she can play chopsticks on the piano, here.’

  She didn’t want to, she hadn’t touched the keys of a piano for more years than she cared to think about, but all of a sudden she didn’t want to let her team down. And they were a team. She got up on unsteady feet, tried not to think about how it used to be, how she’d grown to love playing, how it had been snatched away.

  Her fingers trembled, and the piano was badly in need of tuning, but she did it. She played, they applauded, and she took a bow before slipping back into her seat next to Charlie.

  ‘You’ve done that a few times before.’ His voice was soft in her ear.

  ‘A long time ago.’ Another life.

  ‘You should play again, I bet you’re good.’

  ‘Flatterer!’ She tried to make a joke of it, but she had been good. As a child she’d loved the feel of the keys below her fingertips, loved the melodies that echoed through their living room. Then the piano had gone. Another little piece of the jigsaw that she’d forgotten all about, that she’d purposefully pushed away. The piano had gone before they’d left, the same as her friends had. All the little fun things that had made up the picture of her life had been discarded one by one. Long before her and Mum had moved to the city.

  ‘Hey, Lucy, do you know this one?’ Sally’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

  She needed to talk to her mum later, this place had already brought back too many memories, too many loose ends that needed tying up and making sense of.

  ‘Sorry, what was it? Oh, of course I know!’

  There was a run of questions then linked to music, and Lucy started to enjoy herself. The time whizzed by, and before she knew it answer sheets were being swapped for marking, and although they’d not won, they’d not disgraced themselves.

  The landlord rang the bell for last orders and as Sally turned her attention to Jamie, Lucy found herself alone with Charlie.

  ‘I suppose I better get home.’

  ‘I can walk you, if you’d like that is?’

  ‘Sure, thanks. If you’re sure…’

  ‘It’s on my way.’ He smiled good-naturedly, then held the door open for her, and the waft of fresh air brought in the scent of the spring flowers that overflowed from the tubs either side of the doorway.

  ‘Sorry the tour of the village didn’t go to plan the other day.’ His eyes were twinkling and he looked positively raffish – framed by the dark night sky, his hair mussed up, and dimples framing his mouth. ‘I promise not to mention alpaca balls, or drag you into the church again…’

  She stared,
straight into those deep, dark eyes, and all she could think about was the kiss, the feel of his lips under hers, the sense of him that had drawn her in.

  Still dark nights like this were made for kissing, for letting yourself get drawn towards a man with cool lips and capable hands, with only the moon (and a duck) as witness.

  ‘Lovey, hey, hang on!’ Lucy drew a sharp breath and stumbled back as Jane Smith bowled out of the pub, her hair awry, cheeks flushed. ‘I forgot to give you this, just a little something to give you strength for tomorrow when the little buggers attack the maypole. My Sophie’s had so much fun, says you’ve done a grand job teaching them to skip proper. She ’elped with these.’

  She stared wide-mouthed as the woman shoved a box into her hands and then with a cheery wave disappeared back into the pub, shouting ‘we’ll talk about them sums another time’ as she went.

  Charlie chuckled. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Well yes, but she stopped me in the loos before to complain about my teaching, and I really didn’t expect…’ Stupid tears pricked at her eyes.

  ‘Cake?’

  She peeked into the box. ‘Lots of them.’ She opened the lid wider so that they could both look at the rows of iced cakes, complete with sweeties on some, and thank-you’s on others.

  ‘They’re a friendly bunch really, they just tend to say what they think. Bit different to your old place I bet?’

  She pushed the lid down firmly, giving herself time to swallow the lump in her throat. ‘Very.’

  ‘Come on, let’s walk and talk.’ He put a hand out, and it seemed the most natural thing to slip her own into it. To fall into step with him, their arms swinging, her hand warm and secure in his much larger one. ‘There’s no escape in a place like this, you either let it draw you in and fall in love with it, or you hate it.’

  ‘Too true! But none of the parents at Starbaston ever baked me cakes.’ In the city she could escape from contact of any kind, but that was the good bits as well as the bad.

  As they walked, she glanced into the tidy gardens of the cottages that bordered the village green. ‘None of the neighbours ever checked up on my garden either.’