Summer with the Country Village Vet

by Zara Stoneley

  ‘Matt?’ Lucy couldn’t resist. Then wished she hadn’t when Sally’s playful punch hit her arm.

  ‘Jamie. Oh God, I’ve got to have him.’ The words were slightly slurred, but the feeling in them came straight from her core. ‘I thought the drink would help, you know, do it. But I’m not so sure now.’ She wobbled a bit, and Lucy, giggling, grabbed her elbow. ‘I’ve fancied him since we were at school. He’s my hero.’ She gave a heartfelt sigh that quivered at the end, and Lucy tried to keep a straight face. The girl really had it bad.

  ‘He seems lovely. So you, er, you and Charlie, aren’t?’

  Sally giggled. ‘Charlie!’ It came out a bit loud and she clamped her hand over her mouth. ‘Me and Charlie? Oh my God, no. He’s lovely, but he never stops working, I mean, he’s obsessed. Even worse than you!’ Lucy decided she’d take that as a compliment rather than an insult. ‘Whereas…’ She stared after Jamie like a mooning calf.

  So that put her straight on that one. ‘He likes you too.’

  ‘He just thinks I’m like an annoying kid sister that needs rescuing.’

  ‘Maybe he did when you were five, but he wouldn’t carry on doing it now if he didn’t fancy you, would he?’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Positive. He was watching your every move on quiz night.’ Which might have been a slight exaggeration, but it wasn’t far off the mark.

  ‘After you told me about everything you’ve done, moving, job, everything – I told myself I had to do it. Now. Before I’m a wrinkly.’

  ‘You’ve got plenty of time before you’re a wrinkly.’

  ‘Oh I do love you.’ Sally slipped her arm round Lucy’s waist.

  ‘It’s Jamie you should be telling that.’

  ‘I know, but if he spurns me…’

  ‘Spurns you?’ Lucy tried not to laugh. ‘Who says spurns in this day and age?’

  ‘Books, films, everybody. If he spurns me,’ she emphasised the word, ‘Matt will never let me live it down. He’ll take the piss.’

  ‘He won’t say no. But ignore Matt. I’ll distract him.’

  ‘You will? Oh I really, really do love you.’ She moved in closer. ‘I was hoping you’d say that though. But you won’t let him snog you, will you? Miss Harrington said…’

  What Miss Harrington said was lost.

  ‘Let the dog see the rabbit, fellas.’ Matt’s voice boomed out, he was clapping backs and telling people to move their arses as he went, with Jamie not far behind. Lucy suddenly wondered what she was letting herself in for. Distract him? ‘Spitting feathers here, and we’ve got a teacher who deserves a medal after getting your little buggers skipping around mostly in the right direction today.’

  Lucy studied her feet as several pairs of eyes swivelled in her direction and there was a smattering of applause, along with a thumbs up from Jim who was standing in the snug with the other Morris dancers. ‘Aye, and she even managed to persuade young Charlie to take part.’ There were a few guffaws.

  Sally had forgotten all about seduction and was staring wide-eyed. ‘I saw him holding Mischief, but I didn’t know you’d got him to do the procession.’ She nudged her none too gently in the ribs. ‘You are good girl. High five. Nobody had managed to get him out of that surgery to do anything. Timothy couldn’t get him to the school, the vicar’s wife hasn’t managed to get him to agree to do the village show, and he won’t even agree to be on the cricket team. So,’ she lowered her voice which was a godsend, ‘what’s the secret, have you promised some private lessons?’ Lucy felt herself go bright red.

  ‘No! I didn’t do anything so stop looking at me like that, it was Jill. Jill told him he had to help.’

  ‘He’s never done what anybody has told him before.’

  ‘Stop it. He was just being helpful. You said yourself that he’s nice.’ She made a grab for the drink that Jamie was holding out to her, and buried her face in the glass hoping that the inquisition would stop. It wasn’t that she’d done anything, so she had absolutely nothing to feel embarrassed about. He was just being supportive. He knew how it felt to be the odd one out. But thank God Sally hadn’t arrived a few minutes earlier and caught her staring into the eyes of the man in question like some lovelorn teenager.

  ‘He is nice.’ Sally paused. ‘In the surgery. He just never comes out.’ She cocked her head to one side, ‘I told you he’s got a soft spot, he likes you!’

  ‘Who likes who?’ Matt squeezed his way in between the two girls.

  ‘Charlie likes Lucy.’

  ‘Oh, he does, does he? I don’t blame him at all!’

  ‘He helped her with Mischief, and,’ Sally paused mischievously, ‘they were in a huddle on the green.’

  ‘No we weren’t!’ Hell, Sally had seen them. ‘He was giving me advice about the pony, that’s all.’ She stared indignantly as all three of them grinned at her, and hoped she hadn’t gone the colour she thought she had. Rosy red cheeks were so uncool. ‘He said I need a starvation paddock, sounds cruel to me.’

  ‘Oh no, it isn’t cruel at all.’ For a moment Sally slipped back into her professional mode. ‘You don’t want laminitis, do you?’

  ‘Don’t I?’

  ‘No you don’t.’ Sally giggled. ‘Well Mischief doesn’t.’ She slipped her hand through Matt’s arm. ‘You could go over and fence a bit off for Lucy, couldn’t you?’

  ‘Well,’ Lucy paused doubtfully, ‘Charlie did say he’d come and help do it.’

  ‘Oh, he won’t mind, and Matt’s used to putting up electric fencing, aren’t you? I mean, I’m not saying Charlie can’t, but it’ll only take Matt five minutes.’

  ‘Yeah, won’t take me long at all. I’ll pop over first thing.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to bother…’ She’d quite been looking forward to a chat with Charlie. But he was probably only offering because he didn’t want to see the pony suffer.

  ‘No bother, babe.’ Matt grinned at her.

  ‘Babe?’ She grinned back.

  ‘He watches too many films, thinks he’s cool.’ Sally punched him on the arm playfully. ‘Well, that’s settled then. Anybody ready for another drink? Because I am!’ She leaned in towards Lucy. ‘One more then I can do it, I can tell him, I know I can. Just one more.’

  Two drinks later Lucy had stopped trying to be invisible. Sally had more or less got Jamie cornered, not that he seemed to mind, and chatting to Matt was easy. He was good company.

  It was rowdy in the pub and she soon found herself shouting to be heard, grinning in response to the flirty comments that he kept throwing her way. ‘I wish my teachers at school had been like you.’ He tapped the tip of her nose with a broad finger. ‘There’d have been no running up the field to hide.’

  She grinned up at him, feeling the blush that was spreading red-hot over her cheekbones. Then over his shoulder saw a disapproving glare.

  Charlie. A look of fury on his face, until her gaze met his and the shutters came down.

  It was like a black cloud had blocked out the sun.

  What was it with the man? He was back to the grumpy vet who’d told her off in the car park, no trace of the guy who’d joked on the green such a short while ago.

  Her and Charlie seemed to be playing some kind of weird ping-pong game of emotions and she didn’t know the rules.

  She’d thought they’d sorted out any differences. More than sorted them. He’d actually looked like he’d enjoyed the day, and that he was as disappointed as her that Serena had butted in.

  And he’d even said he’d consider coming into school. Or was that just some throwaway comment that he now regretted? Why else would he be giving her that look again?

  She must have really, totally imagined that weird moment on the green. Now, he was looking at her in much the same way he’d studied her hen, frowning. Which was a bit disconcerting.

  ‘Charlie?’ She edged her way over, past Matt who had been diverted by a barmaid who was fighting a losing battle to collect empties. ‘Was Twinkle okay?’
>
  ‘Fine.’ Dry was the only way to describe the way he’d said that. ‘Just a sprain. That woman is a pain in the arse at times.’

  She knew her jaw had dropped at the unexpected words. Charlie was always professionalism itself. She’d never heard him criticise a client, and never heard him say anything at all unpleasant, or verging on an expletive.

  ‘Sorry.’ He swept his hair back with his hand. ‘I need a drink. Looks like I’m lagging way behind eh? Sorry to intrude on your fun.’

  ‘You’re not …’ But he’d turned away. She reached out, wanting to say something, to explain why she was with Matt. To ask what the matter was. Then there was a tap on her shoulder.

  ‘Lucy dear. I need to have a serious word. It’s rather urgent.’

  Oh good heavens above. Did nobody get a moment’s peace in this village? She looked at the headmaster with a frown.

  He looked completely sober, the earlier drink had been to prepare him for the trial ahead. Insulate him from the mayhem.

  ‘Oh, hi Timothy, I was just…’

  ‘I really would appreciate a couple of moments of your time, if you don’t mind?’ He put a hand under her elbow, already steering her towards the door and he looked so serious a twinge of apprehension knotted deep down inside her. So much for her feeling that nothing bad would ever happen here. ‘It’s important, or I wouldn’t disturb you. It’s just,’ he took a deep breath as he pushed the door of the pub open and daylight flooded in, momentarily dazzling her. ‘I think they’re going to close us down.’

  ***

  ‘You will stay and help us save the school, won’t you dear?’ Timothy Parry looked completely sober, and very serious. He looked different without his normal tweed jacket, with leather elbow patches on, but still quite headmasterly as though being in school was his home, his whole life. ‘I’m not asking for a lifetime commitment.’ He patted her gently on the shoulder. ‘Just a small slice of your life.’

  It sounded simple when he said it like that. Undemanding. Which she was sure was exactly what he’d intended.

  He led the way over the grass towards the duck pond, and they sat down on the wooden bench, the remnants of the May Day celebrations scattered around them. The mallard she’d met on her first day here, well he looked like the same one, was rooting around their feet looking for scraps of bread for his family.

  The late afternoon rays of sunshine sparkled on the surface of the pond. Across the way was the row of higgledy-piggledy cottages that she looked out on each day from her classroom window. The flowers were blossoming, rambling roses hesitated on the verge of showering the brick walls with a splurge of colour. She’d only been here for three weeks, but already there was so much that felt familiar. So much she’d miss.

  The first tentative stirrings of summer were unfurling in the village, it was coming to life and as it changed so was something inside her. She might have felt the outsider as the Langtry Meadows villagers had celebrated earlier, but now, on this quiet bench she realised that the place was growing on her. People like Charlie were growing on her, the wonderful Sally, the welcoming Matt and his gentler brother Jamie.

  A tiny bit of her was shouting out the truth – she was more at home here after such a short time than she’d ever felt in the place she’d been calling home for the last few years. At the end of the school day she didn’t just walk away. In Langtry Meadows you became a part of the place whether you wanted to or not.

  If she left at the end of the half term, she’d only get a glimpse of what Langtry Meadows looked like in the summer, a hint of the beauty that faded in the winter.

  She slipped her shoes off, felt the cool grass beneath her toes and tried to work out how she felt. She had come here out of necessity, not through any desire to return to the type of place she’d been brought up in. There was no nostalgia attached to that. It had been a short term solution, to tide her over until a job closer to home came up. And she knew one would come up eventually. There was a high turnover at schools in the centre of a city, frazzled teachers who found they spent all their time dealing with difficult parents rather than their offspring. The constant battle to pull a school up from a slump with few resources and low morale.

  It was impossible to imagine life any other way than the way she’d planned it.

  It was impossible to imagine Langtry Meadows without its primary school though.

  ‘We need fresh blood here Lucy, I’m getting old.’

  She went to object, but he held a hand up.

  ‘Now don’t get me wrong. I’m in no hurry to retire, but youngsters like you bring in fresh ideas, a different way of looking at things. If we are going to be able to fight this, I need to demonstrate that we have a committed work force. That we’re progressive, not some old-fashioned stuck-in-the-past relic.’ He put a hand over her own which were clasped in her lap. ‘You could really make a difference Lucy.’

  She’d never made a difference to anything. She’d tried to make a difference to the way they lived when she was a teenager, tidy up after school when her mother was out. Send notes to her father telling him she’d be the perfect daughter if he came home. That she’d wash his car, help mow the lawn and never, ever complain. But he’d never replied. Life had gone on in the same way it always had.

  The first time she’d ever felt valued was at Starbaston Primary School when she’d been praised by the Ofsted inspector, when she’d been promoted. And then those small achievements had been shot out of the water. She was back to nothing. Being nothing. Worthless. But determined to keep going.

  ‘I suppose it was inevitable.’ Timothy sighed. ‘It is the nature of working in a village school these days my dear. Lots of small schools like ours are getting shut down, the numbers are just too low and the expenses too high, but if this school goes, then who knows what impact it will have on Langtry Meadows. We’re in danger of being rationalised my dear. It’s the thin end of the wedge, this is the first battle and there will be more. The multi-academy trust looms on the horizon. But,’ he rubbed his hands together, ‘that is in the future, my dear. Right now we have to concentrate on the immediate threat. Becky might well come back to school in due course, but I must admit I do have my doubts.’

  Lucy knew what he meant. The children had crowded around to say hello to Becky, and she’d smiled a happy, welcoming smile, but the full, heartfelt look emerged only when she’d looked at her own child. You could almost feel the emotion pouring out of her. That look had briefly filled Lucy with an emptiness she’d never felt before. And then Charlie had appeared out of nowhere, bearing pints of lager. A man who had at least some understanding of how it felt to be on the edge of things.

  ‘Now I wouldn’t expect you to take on her position as deputy head my dear, but if you could commit until the summer holidays, I do feel it would make an enormous difference. It would help the other staff, give them hope. Not that they’re not always tremendous and so supportive. But this will shake them.’ He paused for a moment. ‘This school has been here for a long time you know, I was a pupil myself many years ago.’ He glanced over towards the old building. ‘After I’d qualified I worked in London for a while, I had such grand ideas about changing the world.’ His voice had drifted as his mind slipped back to the past. Then with an effort he returned to the present and fixed Lucy with the type of gaze she was sure always worked on difficult children. He was sincere. He was asking her to make the right decision. ‘I left the city and came back here to nurse my ill mother, and I never left. Now,’ a brisk no-nonsense edge crept in, ‘you must do what is right for you, but please do consider staying. You have made a wonderful contribution already, but if you were on our “save the school” committee,’ he raised his eyebrows, a flash of humour in his eyes, ‘I do rather think you could make a lasting one. Now is that the time?’ He stood up. ‘Splendid performance today dear. See you on Tuesday morning.’ And he ambled off as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  She was being watched. She glanced over towa
rds the pub, the unmistakable tall figure of Charlie was making his way over towards her.

  ‘Room for one more?’

  Lucy smiled and shuffled up. ‘Seeing as it’s you.’ She’d hoped it would lighten the mood, but his smile was strained. ‘You should have come over and chatted to us, in the pub.’

  He shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to barge in, you looked …’ His gaze caught hers for a second, then he glanced away, stared into the distance. ‘He’s a nice guy.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Matt.’

  Lucy laughed self-consciously. ‘He’s a great guy.’

  There was a strange hurumph sound.

  ‘He’s Sally’s friend, not mine, but he was just trying to be helpful.’

  ‘Sure.’ He shrugged. ‘Up close and very helpful.’ It came out as a low mutter, but she heard every word.

  ‘Very helpful.’ She tried not to smile at the way Charlie’s mouth tightened, then gave him a nudge with her elbow and leaned in a little closer. ‘He’s like that with everybody, you know he is.’ Unlike some vet she could name, who was intent on keeping a polite distance from everybody. Including her. But that brush of his fingers, the way he’d held her gaze, looked at her as though he knew her inside and out had stirred her up more than any amount of flirtation with Matt could ever do.

  ‘I do.’ Charlie’s mouth twisted ruefully, the rough edge to his voice making her want to hug him. Then he sighed, and his whole body relaxed a fraction. ‘Sorry, I’m being grumpy. I’m a few pints behind everybody else.’ He paused, then looked directly at her.

  ‘Maybe we should go out for a drink some time?’

  Her stomach flipped. ‘Maybe we should.’ She mustn’t get ahead of herself. He was offering a friendly drink. The man who’d told her he’d be leaving soon, that he hadn’t any choice, was just offering a glass of wine. That was all.

  ‘If you’d like?’

  ‘Oh yes, I’d like, I mean,’ she took a steadying breath and looked him in the eye, ‘that would be lovely.’