Summer with the Country Village Vet

by Zara Stoneley

  ‘Ted Wright come over here and let me tuck that shirt in, you look more like Ron Weasley than Harry Potter.’ Ted backed off towards Jill, his mouth wide open, never taking his eyes off Charlie.

  Lucy stared at the pony and wondered exactly how she’d got herself in this position. In Birmingham the only animal she’d had to deal with was a fox that had trapped itself in the school wheelie bin, leaving the children convinced that there was a poltergeist, until the caretaker had opened the lid and it had shot out. ‘You wouldn’t mind hanging on to him, would you? It’s just…’ She waved a hand around at the children who were now getting far too hyper and jumping about excitedly in a way that did not bode well for a sedate skip around a maypole with coloured ribbons. They were also, egged on by Ted, waving imaginary wands at each other and shouting out random spells like ‘expeli-pyjamas’, and ‘you’re riddiklus’. Jill was stifling giggles and Charlie was looking totally bemused.

  She frowned at him. ‘This is partly your fault you know, so there is a price to pay.’

  She suddenly realised that Timothy had wandered back and was swaying gently in a very un-headmasterly fashion. The beer fumes hit her as he collided gently against her then bounced back. She stared in shock at Jill who grinned, then put her hands on his shoulders, slowly spun him round and gave him a gentle push in the direction of the bench at the side of the square.

  ‘It’s…’

  ‘Tradition?’ Lucy knew she was rolling her eyes.

  ‘Exactly. He just hates the chaos and lack of control. In school he’s fine, but once the kids are let loose anything can happen. He’s the first to the beer tent then pretends it is out of his hands.’ Jill looked at Charlie who was still holding the pony. ‘She’s right, there is a price to pay.’ She winked at Lucy. ‘As our dear headmaster obviously can’t take care of Mischief, and Annie isn’t here, then I’m giving you responsibility for leading the way with that animal.’

  She’d got her I’m-not-standing-any-nonsense voice on, which always worked with the children, but Lucy was shocked to see Charlie nod dumbly. The traces of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

  ‘We’re going to be walking just in front of the float with the May Queen, behind the brass band. You lead the way with Mischief and the children follow on. Come on, I think it’s time to line up. Billy stop trying to tie Poppy’s plaits together.’

  ‘Joe if you push that finger up your nose any further you’ll make a hole in your brain and you’ll be as daft as a brush like your father.’ Lucy cringed as Liz’s voice rang out clearly. She watched dumbfounded as the other woman walked over. ‘Now we don’t want that, do we?’ Joe shrugged his shoulder, and examined the end of his finger.

  ‘Er, Mrs Potts, I’m not sure you should say…’

  Liz Potts studied her with beady eyes. ‘Nonsense.’ She turned her attentions back to the child. ‘Good heavens, Joseph, get that finger wiped before your parents see you.’ And she bustled off to check nobody else had fingers in orifices.

  Lucy felt herself blush, and covered it with a grin and wave as Charlie looked over his shoulder at her and winked. He actually winked. And smiled. In a crinkle-your-eyes at the corner way. And his normal serious face and frown melted away so that she felt pleased in an almost childlike way. Which was ridiculous. She covered it up by moving the children into a tidier line, and backing Sam up from his position inches away from Mischief’s tail. She wasn’t worried about the pony kicking out, but she was worried about the effects the spring grass might have had on his tummy. Explosive diarrhoea was something she had absolutely no desire to experience.

  At the far end of the square she could see Jim limbering up, clicking his heels together, jangling his bells and waving his sticks in the air. Behind the Morris dancers a horse drawn float, decked out in spring flowers rocked as the horse stamped with impatience.

  Sally waved, then pointed at Charlie with an expression of mock shock on her face, then gave the thumbs up as the procession shifted and set off in fits and starts lurching its way through the village.

  The whole village it seemed had turned out to watch as they made their way from the square down past the cricket ground and Taverner’s Arms (where there was a particularly good, and noisy, turnout), around the green where a crowd were already assembled and the scary maypole loomed large, before passing the school and finally stepping onto the soft, green carpet of grass. The sun shone as the Morris Dancers entertained, and the children did her proud as they plaited the colourful ribbons. They skipped in and out, grins of pride and pleasure on their faces as their parents cheered them on – and the only hiccup was when Sophie stopped short and turned round to berate Joe, saying ‘my mam says if you shove me in the back again, she’ll give you a right sorting’, before turning round and continuing with an angelic smile on her face. In her last school, letting the kids loose with long ribbons would have been inviting a manslaughter charge. But here it was different. Here it worked. In a fashion.

  The crown bearer did burst into tears and rush off with the crown after being overcome by the pressure to perform, the ducks with their brood of ducklings timed their stroll from pond to pole perfectly just as the procession made its way to the makeshift throne next to the bandstand – causing a minor pile up and necessitating a re-start of the music. And there was a false start when the crown wobbled and had to be held in place by the village postmistress who crouched behind the May Queen while the photos were being taken. Lucy could swear you’d be able to see her fingers on the photographs. But it didn’t matter. The imperfections were what made it all so perfect.

  Lucy had loved the procession, but now that the children had been released and scampered with squeals towards their parents, she felt at a bit of a loss. She was surrounded by happy, smiling families. Friends. People who knew each other, belonged.

  Jill and other staff from the school were in the centre of the green, cooing over the baby that Becky (the teacher she was covering for) was rocking in her arms. She felt a pang as she watched them, not because she wanted a baby, but because Becky belonged here. Her baby was already part of this large community that was wrapped over the countryside like a protective blanket. It felt like nothing bad could happen here. Nothing that they wouldn’t pull together over and cope with.

  ‘Can’t beat village life on a beautiful day like this, can you?’ Lucy looked up in surprise to see Charlie at her shoulder. He held out a plastic cup of lager. ‘Hope you don’t mind, I thought you looked like you needed a drink.’

  ‘Thank you!’ She did, but was surprised at the gesture. After last night she’d half expected him to retreat back into his taciturn vet persona, and only speak to her when she was clutching a poorly animal to her chest.

  ‘I thought us outsiders should stick together.’ Charlie raised his drink and it was as though he’d read her thoughts. It was strange though, as each day passed she was feeling more a part of the community, whereas he seemed intent on keeping a distance. It was almost as though he was determined to resist the pull of a village he’d obviously once loved.

  ‘Whatever happened to…?’ She suddenly realised that Mischief wasn’t with him, and looked round wildly.

  He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her back and making her feel awkward. ‘I took him home for you. Safely locked up in his field shelter with some hay. I’ll come and help you fence a starvation patch off one day next week if you like?’

  ‘Starvation?’ It didn’t sound very vet-appropriate advice.

  ‘It’s for his own good. A small patch of grass he can eat down.’ My God that smile was cute, and his dark eyes were practically dancing. ‘Talking of food, do you fancy risking a Taverner’s burger? They’ve got a barbeque set up over there,’ he pointed, ‘on the edge of the green. Beef fresh from Wright’s farm I’m told.’

  ‘Not too fresh I hope.’ She always said hello to Ed Wright’s cows as she passed their field on the way to school each day, and the thought of them sliced up, fried and sandwich
ed between two slices of bread made her cringe slightly inside. They were so cute with their big brown eyes, and eyelashes to die for.

  ‘Not ones you’ve petted.’ He was grinning over his pint. ‘These were long gone before you arrived in Langtry Meadows.’

  She blushed. What was worse, talking to cows or being caught doing it? ‘The kids seemed to like you.’ She looked under her eyelashes at him. He’d seemed a bit twitchy when Jill had pressed him into service on pony-leading duties, but it had melted away during the afternoon. It wasn’t that he’d been exactly awkward, like a lot of childless men were, more that he wanted to keep a distance despite himself. But when little Poppy had slipped her hand into his as they’d been watching the crowning ceremony he’d looked, as her mother would say, chuffed.

  ‘You could just admit defeat gracefully and say you’ll come and talk to them. I don’t give up easily you know.’

  ‘I noticed.’ He chuckled, and took a swig of his drink.

  ‘Charlie, Charles! Oh thank heavens I’ve found you.’ Serena shouldered her way between them, knocking Lucy out of the way with her enormous tote bag which for once didn’t have a dog in it. ‘I’ve been searching everywhere.’ Which Lucy thought was a bit melodramatic given the size of the village. ‘The surgery was empty. Shut! I nearly died.’

  ‘I’ve only shut it for the afternoon, I did run the normal surgery this morning, and we don’t normally…’ He was cut off, Serena waving a hand dismissively.

  ‘It’s my darling. It’s Twinkle, she’s hurt, injured. You have to come. I think she’s broken her leg! Oh my goodness, it’s so terrible,’ she wiped away a tear and Lucy watched transfixed. Her makeup was as perfect as ever, whereas if she’d done that she would have had a smear of mascara down her cheek at the very least. ‘I feel so guilty, oh it’s terrible. You’ve got to come, now, straight away. I had to leave her on her own as she screamed, positively screamed when I tried to cuddle her, so I just couldn’t put her in my bag. I was getting ready to come out, I mean look at the state of me, I’m only half-dressed.’

  Lucy looked. She was immaculate. Her long hair as neat and shiny as was possible, her nails polished, her designer jeans (sparkling with diamantes from knee to ankle) as clean as if they’d just been delivered from the boutique, and her top with its plunging neckline showcasing a perfect tan.

  ‘I sat down to put my shoes on, and she was there, on the chair. She has her own chair by the window, she never sits on this other one, but you know how her hormones have been. She probably wanted some motherly love, and what did I do? I sat on her!’ She covered her perfect cupid bow red lips with a hand and cried out. ‘My baby, oh my baby. What have I done? I sat on her!’

  Charlie covered up the sigh that she was sure was about to escape from his lips, and replaced his frustration with his normal professional demeanour.

  ‘Don’t worry, Miss Stevens, you get back home and keep an eye on her. I’ll pop back to the surgery for a few things and be over as quickly as I can.’ He shrugged apologetically at Lucy as Serena, after profusely thanking him and wrapping him in a hug, tottered off across the grass as fast as her high heels would allow. ‘Sorry, duty calls.’

  ‘You’re a man in demand.’ She tried to hide the unexpected rush of disappointment.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll be long, she always exaggerates, but better to be safe than sorry, I can’t…’ He grinned in a sheepish way that brought a smile to her own face.

  ‘It’s fine, I understand. It’s a twenty-four seven kind of job isn’t it? Even worse than being a teacher.’

  ‘Emergencies are part of it, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Do you want me to have that?’ She held a hand out for his glass and he handed it over. His fingertips brushed hers and without thinking she looked straight into his eyes. There was a weird moment when she was stuck for words, then she tore her gaze away and laughed nervously, suddenly awkward. Since when was Lucy Jacobs speechless? She glanced back up and his steady gaze was still fixed on her, and this time she didn’t want to look away. The gentle lift of his mouth was almost mesmerising, and the moment was suddenly far more intimate than any kiss, any clinch, had ever been.

  ‘I’ll catch you later?’ The words were soft, just for her.

  She nodded and gulped away the lump in her throat. ‘Er, yes sure.’ The whole May Day experience had obviously taken more out of her than she’d realised. It had left her dazed and disorientated. Or something. And she could see now exactly why all the women in the village were queueing up at the surgery with totally healthy pets.

  ‘And I’ll think about what you said, about coming in.’ Tiny lines of humour fanned out from the corners of his eyes.

  Lucy stared at him, not quite sure she understood what he was saying. ‘In?’

  ‘To talk to the kids.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

  He was studying her again, hesitating as though he was reluctant to go. She wanted him to stay, touch her fingers again and see what happened the second time.

  ‘Good.’ The word was soft, almost intimate, then he suddenly straightened up breaking the spell with a smile. ‘But for heaven’s sake don’t tell Sal, I’ll never live it down.’

  Lucy watched Charlie head towards the surgery then stared into the empty glass, suddenly feeling lost without him.

  It had been a perfect afternoon, the children had done their best, but now she had to admit, she did feel a bit like the outsider. The gooseberry. Which she was. Soon she’d be heading back to her neat and tidy house, thrown into the chaos of a busy school where she hardly had time to draw breath, let alone worry about whether she fitted in or not. Without the vet she was getting attached to in a way she knew she shouldn’t.

  ‘Lucy! Luce!’ There was a squeal of delight then she was nearly knocked flying as somebody cannoned into her.

  ‘Sally!’ Sally, was somehow managing to have both arms wrapped round her in a bear hug, and was jumping up and down like an excited puppy at the same time so that they were both in danger of falling over. She grinned then let go.

  ‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’ Sally was wearing an ear-to-ear grin, pigtails flopping up and down as she bounced around like Tigger on speed in front of Lucy.

  ‘Are you drunk?’

  ‘Of course I’m drunk! You don’t think I’d still be here listening to that bloody brass band if I wasn’t do you?’

  ‘Can you stop doing that,’ Lucy hoped she didn’t sound like a school teacher telling an infant off, but Sally didn’t seem to care, ‘you’re making me feel dizzy.’

  ‘Your kids were fucking amazing. You are amazing.’ Sally kissed her on the cheek in a very un-Sally way. ‘I think you should forget your sink-hole school and come and live here.’

  ‘Sink-hole school?’ Lucy tried not to laugh. ‘Just how much have you had to drink?’ She couldn’t believe this was the ultra-professional, efficient veterinary nurse and receptionist. She looked younger, happier, un-leashed. Maybe that was what she needed herself, to be let out of school, let her hair down. Sally slipped her arm through Lucy’s and span her round.

  ‘Scrumpy, and this sangria stuff, and beer. Look.’

  Lucy looked from a slightly abashed, but clearly merry Sally, over to the well-built James. He’d looked different in the dim light of the pub last night, but in daylight she could see he was a slightly softer-at-the-edges, sweeter, version of his brother. His eyes were twinkling, but were a deeper blue than Matt’s (not that she’d studied them that closely), the dirty-blond hair a shade or two closer to brown and not quite as neatly slicked back. But the washboard stomach, and muscled forearms were about the same.

  ‘What are you lot plotting without me?’ A warm hand on her shoulder cut Lucy’s appraisal short, which was probably a good thing – she was always telling the kids it was rude to stare – and she had the opportunity to see just how much alike, and how dissimilar the brothers were when she turned to find Matt behind her.

  ‘We’re persuadi
ng Lucy to come for a drink at the Taverner’s.’

  ‘Are you? It’s very kind but…’ She had lesson plans to do, a garden to weed, job applications to complete.

  The last unwelcome thought thudded into her mind. She’d already been here for nearly half of the agreed cover time, and she realised with a jolt that even if she was a bit of an outsider, she’d miss the place. But more than missing the place, she’d miss the people.

  Oh God she was a confused mess; one minute she was planning her escape, the next she was realising that it might be harder to walk away from this place than she’d ever imagined. One random act of kindness from Charlie, followed by a near-flooring from Sally and she was getting all sentimental.

  ‘It’s Saturday, and it’s a bank holiday weekend so I’m not letting you say no. And you can’t leave me to handle Bill and Ben on my own.’ Sally linked her arms through Lucy’s, her mouth close to the other girl’s ear. ‘Please?’

  Lucy saw Sally’s gaze drift over in James’ direction. She had a serious crush there, and Lucy wondered how long it had been going on. Probably from their school days.

  ‘I can’t do this without you.’

  She smiled. Sally was nice, she’d gone out of her way to be helpful, and she’d smoothed the path with Charlie. She deserved a break with the sturdy farmer who looked more than alright. ‘As long as you show me his whippets!’

  Sally laughed, and she joined in. Then she leant forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thanks. I owe you one.’

  Chapter 9

  Lucy looked through the doorway of the Taverner’s Arms in dismay. A three deep mass of burly locals stood between her and any hope of a drink. It looked like every single resident of Langtry Meadows over the legal age had the same idea.

  Matt didn’t hesitate; he eased his way into the crowd, Jamie right behind him.

  Sally leaned against Lucy, and the loud conspiratorial whisper in her ear would have reached everybody if it hadn’t been so noisy. ‘Isn’t he just so gorgeous?’ She sighed, a heartfelt sigh.