Summer with the Country Village Vet

by Zara Stoneley

  ‘Great. Tomorrow?’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ That was quick.

  ‘Only if you…’

  ‘No tomorrow sounds great. Great. Lovely.’

  He looked down at his feet, probably wondering why lovely and great were suddenly the only words in a teachers vocabulary.

  ‘Good.’ He nodded, clasped his hands awkwardly together then glanced at her again. Their eyes met, and a boyish grin suddenly lit up his features. ‘I’ve not asked anybody for a date since I was a student.’

  Lucy grinned back, she couldn’t help it. When he looked at her like that he was irresistible. Even if he’d be leaving soon, and the first date could be the last. But it was stupid to think like that. Since coming here she’d started to realise that it was time to take things as they came, let go a bit and enjoy things for what they were. Instead of interrogating them to death.

  ‘Timothy looked serious.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s got,’ she wasn’t quite sure if this was supposed to be confidential or not, ‘trouble at school.’ She could at least tell Charlie she’d been asked to stay though. ‘He’s asked me to—’ She never got to finish the sentence.

  ‘So this is where you’re hiding.’

  They both swivelled round on the bench, and came face to face with a woman who’d walked across the grass behind the bench soundlessly, and was close enough to touch. A woman who was looking straight at Charlie with folded arms and a look of grim satisfaction.

  ‘Run back to Mummy and Daddy, and little village life?’ She snorted a laugh. ‘All very quaint, isn’t it? Even after the way you described it, I didn’t expect anywhere quite so,’ she wrinkled her nose, ‘rural.’

  Lucy looked from the woman to Charlie and back again, totally confused. Charlie looked like a bomb had been dropped on him, all the colour had been wiped from his face and his jaw was set, his lips a thin line.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ The words were rough-edged.

  ‘Well you wouldn’t answer my calls so what was I supposed to do?’

  ‘Leave a message?’

  She ignored him. ‘We,’ Lucy was sure he flinched, ‘would have got here earlier if we’d known about the dancing round the maypole.’

  ‘We?’ There was a note of panic in the single syllable. The woman gave a tight smile and looked straight at Lucy, then back to Charlie.

  ‘You’ve not told your girlfriend…’

  Lucy opened her mouth, not sure if she was about to deny being his girlfriend, or ask what he’d not told her.

  ‘…that you’ve got a wife and daughter?’

  ‘You’re not my wife, Josie.’

  ‘Well technically I think you’ll find I still am, but anyway,’ she waved a careless hand as Lucy tried to take the information in. This woman was his wife, he had a daughter? He was scared of kids, but he’d got a daughter? No, he wasn’t scared of kids, he was… what was he? ‘Oh, whatever. Your daughter wants to see you.’

  Charlie glanced around wildly.

  ‘Oh don’t be ridiculous. You don’t think I’d drag her round here while I tried to track you down, do you?’ She shook her head in disbelief at what she considered his stupidity, shot a glare at Lucy then spinning on her heel shot a comment over her shoulder. ‘I’ll bring her down to your surgery in half an hour, if you can spare the time.’ Her tone had a sarcastic edge that penetrated even the fuzz of Lucy’s brain as she tried to compute this revelation. ‘Don’t keep her waiting, she’s over excited and tired.’

  Mischief was not in his field shelter when Lucy got back, feeling like she’d been run over by a herd of stampeding cattle. She groaned. This was all she needed.

  He didn’t take much finding though.

  He was in the garden, his mouth full of apple blossom which was spilling out and looked like a slipped halo against his jet black coat. As he’d pulled at the twigs, more of the blossom had fallen, the pretty pink petals scattering across his broad back.

  She sank down beside him, wrapped her arms round his neck and wanted to cry, but instead she laughed. Slightly hysterically. Charlie had a child. He had a wife. No wonder he’d said life was complicated. But why the hell hadn’t he told her? Not that it was any of her business, and they weren’t even going out or anything. But a child. How did you not mention a child?

  He’d not wanted to come to school, he’d not wanted to get involved in village life, and she was pretty damned sure nobody here knew anything about his daughter. His secret. But why the hell did anybody want to keep that kind of secret? Her head hurt, and it wasn’t from beer.

  ‘Oh Mischief, what kind of idiot am I?’

  He was being friendly, giving her an ally, and she’d kissed him. Been stupidly pleased when he’d chatted to her.

  The pony nudged her hand, then blew gently out of his nostrils. She gulped down the blockage in her throat. ‘He asked me on a date, but he’s got a family Mischief.’ She’d have never had him down as somebody who ran away. As a man who couldn’t even love his own daughter.

  But what did she know? She was the stupid idiot who’d gazed into his eyes, who’d thought they’d shared some kind of intimate moment. Who’d been ridiculously happy when he’d asked her out for a drink.

  She ran her fingers through the pony’s forelock then wearily got to her feet.

  It was as she was securing the catch, that she spotted a pullover that had been slung over the gate. It had to be Charlie’s. She picked it up, and without thinking held it close to her face. Oh God, she was turning into a loony, sniffing people’s clothes. She dropped it. Oh pull yourself together, Lucy. It’s a jumper. The poor man brought your pony back and you’re throwing his clothes on the ground.

  He’d asked her out.

  He’d abandoned a child.

  He’d never told her.

  She shook her head, annoyed at herself. This was her over thinking things and being daft. There was bound to be a good explanation. And she liked him. Even if she’d misread all the signs. Even if he’d called it a date, but hadn’t meant it.

  She picked the jumper up again, ran her hand over the soft wool. What would Charlie say about the school? She’d wanted to tell him, chat about it. She’d thought he was an outsider, like she was. But now, all of a sudden, she felt like she didn’t know him at all. She’d thought he wasn’t exactly a hundred percent comfortable, or thinking about settling here forever because there were other more exciting places to go, not because he was running away from a family.

  Chapter 10

  Lucy stretched, then threaded her fingers through her hair and yawned. She didn’t feel like she’d had a refreshing night’s sleep. She felt like she’d spent the night chasing the children round the flaming maypole. That was something that would stay in her memory for quite some time.

  She blinked in an attempt to clear her head, then snapped the kettle on and leaned against the sink, staring out of the window. It was another beautiful morning, the type that was hard to ignore. Whether she decided to stay until the end of the summer term, or go now, she really only had such a short time left in Langtry Meadows that she couldn’t ignore a day like this. It deserved to be savoured. Even if the sensible side of her was saying she had school work to do, and her head was saying another nap would be nice.

  Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the bag of stale bread crusts that she’d been saving for the ducks. Even after they’d gorged on the leftovers yesterday she was pretty sure bread would still be appreciated, and it gave her a reason for going out. A purpose.

  The kettle clicked off, filling the kitchen with steam and she scooped a generous spoonful of coffee into a mug and filled it with hot water. That was what had always been important in life, having a purpose. She’d always been certain of where she was heading, and now all of a sudden she wasn’t. Which was why she hadn’t slept.

  Timothy wasn’t asking for much, just a commitment for one more half term. So what was stopping her? She was fairly sure that Annie would be delighted to have her
stay and look after the cottage. She could even put her house on the market for short-term let and stay here over the summer if she wanted. Have a holiday. It was years since she’d had a proper break and this could be the ideal opportunity.

  Well, real life was stopping her for one thing. Keeping her career on track. Paying her mortgage. If she agreed to this, she was derailing her plan, and she’d never even thought for one moment about changing her goals. Not since the day she’d waved goodbye to high school and walked into university.

  She’d been certain then of what she had to do, where she was heading – and it involved marching forwards, never looking back. Her future didn’t lie in a quiet backwater, it lay in the places that weren’t pretty. In the places where one wrong turn, one wrong friendship could change your life for the worse forever. It was in places where she could give kids confidence, help stop the bullying and the singling out of kids who were slightly different, it was about being in a place where she could make a difference. It was about making children feel wanted in a way she knew they needed to be.

  Growing up in Stoneyvale, she’d never questioned that life could be anything but good, and that friends wouldn’t be there forever – until a year or so before they’d moved. In that last year she’d become the little girl that nobody wanted to be friends with. The one they barged past in the playground. If Amy was there it was okay, on the days she wasn’t she stood alone. Watching. Flickering tentative smiles that were ignored. Hoping somebody would talk to her. Making daisy chain bracelets on her own.

  It was just the same in her new school. Everybody hated her, she didn’t belong. That was how it had felt back then. But an eight year old girl probably wasn’t the most objective person in the world. She knew that now. Langtry Meadows wasn’t Stoneyvale. She wasn’t that frightened little girl any more.

  When they’d moved everything had changed overnight. Even her mother. But when she’d moved up to high school one person, one teacher, had listened to her when her mother had been too busy with her own problems, with the upheaval of building a new home. One teacher had steered her away from the bullies, had given her the confidence to concentrate on her work, had understood teenage angst and how to explain that it wouldn’t last for the rest of her life – even if it felt like that then. It had taken a while, but soon she had a plan, a future mapped out and then the horrible things didn’t seem to matter quite so much. Corny as it had been, she’d decided she’d be that teacher. The one who listened. The one who made a difference.

  But now she seemed to be on rocky ground, or more like sand that shifted underneath her feet. Nothing was how she’d thought it was. Yes, she did still want to be the teacher that made a difference – but even places like Langtry Meadows needed teachers like that. She was doubting her memories though, wondering if she’d got it all wrong. Wondering if the sour taste in her mouth about Stoneyvale, had been something she’d held on to for all the wrong reasons. Nothing was how she’d thought it was, not even Charlie.

  She groaned. For the first time in years she wasn’t sure what she really wanted.

  With a sigh Lucy sat down at the kitchen table and opened up her laptop. Logging on she opened the email that had arrived on Friday (gosh was that only a couple of days ago?). It was from the recruitment agency. They were aware that her cover position would soon be at an end and were pleased to be able to inform her of a teaching vacancy closer to home. A cover position, with the possibility of it leading to a permanent post in a senior position in September. Did she want them to forward her details?

  The perfect job. So why was she hesitating? She couldn’t quite believe that she hadn’t instantly banged off a reply shouting ‘Yes!’ But she hadn’t.

  So now she had a choice. All hers, and agonising. She could stay here, try and help rescue the school. Help not just one child, one class, but make a difference to the whole village. And risk losing the opportunity of a permanent position close to home.

  Or she could go home. Take on a cover position that she was fairly confident would lead to a job in September. And she’d be back on track. Secure. Able to pay the mortgage. She could leave the whole nightmare of her redundancy behind and work towards a position on the school leadership team.

  A no-brainer.

  Lucy groaned and buried her head in her hands. She wasn’t getting anywhere, just going round in circles. It was Sunday, so not a good day to progress anything, then tomorrow was a Bank Holiday but come Tuesday she would do something positive. Make a decision.

  She picked up the bag of stale crusts and her keys. A walk and some fresh air would do her good. Then she’d come back and treat herself to a bacon sandwich.

  ‘Good morning, my dear. Do you mind if I walk with you?’

  Lucy smiled at the elderly, immaculately dressed woman who was standing by the garden gate outside the large house next to the church. She’d seen the woman a few times, walking a dog, watching the children as they played out during the school day. She’d been at her gate watching the start of the May Day procession, a pair of large sunglasses, flamboyant hat and colourful silk scarf had made it impossible to miss her.

  Her silver-grey hair was scraped back into a neat bun, with one or two tiny tendrils that had escaped giving her an almost winsome look that was at odds with the rest of her appearance.

  ‘Of course I don’t.’ Lucy had actually thought an early morning stroll, on her own with only the ducks to talk to, would have helped get her thoughts straight. But there again she’d spent the best part of the evening on her own and it hadn’t helped. Although it was no wonder after the number of drinks she’d had. ‘No dog with you this morning? She’s not ill is she?’

  ‘Oh no, not ill. Well only with a severe case of mummy-brain.’ She tutted and shook her head as she pulled the gate firmly shut behind her. ‘A darling dog, but since she’s had the pups her hormones seem to have sent her doolally.’

  ‘I’ve heard it can have that effect on women.’ Lucy knew her tone was dry, but the lady laughed.

  ‘I like you. I knew I would.’ She chuckled again. ‘I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Elsie Harrington.’ The old lady held out a hand and Lucy automatically took it. The woman didn’t immediately let go. ‘And you are Lucy, our new teacher.’

  ‘I am. Well, I’m the cover teacher until Becky gets back to work.’

  ‘If you say so dear.’ She winked and released Lucy’s hand, then waved her stick. ‘Are you heading down to the green? A Sunday morning walk is good for the constitution. Not the same without Molly of course, but I’m sure you’ll be just as good company.’

  ‘Molly?’

  ‘The dog dear, golden retriever. Loathe to leave her babies, she’s being quite pathetic, just grins apologetically at me and flaps her tail as though it’s all too much effort. Not at all like my old Rosie, she was a border collie. Mad as a hatter, didn’t let motherhood get in her way at all.’ The way she said it took the bite out of the words, and Lucy was sure she was devoted to her dog. ‘Do you have a dog dear?’

  ‘No, er I used to when I was a child, but I’m just looking after Annie’s animals now.’

  ‘You should get one. Damned good company they are, and people will always talk to you if you have one. That’s why I got my Molly. Swore I wouldn’t get another after Rosie went, but life just wasn’t the same. If you have a dog you’ll never be short of somebody to talk to, and I don’t just mean talking to the animal,’ she smiled, ‘although you get more sense out of them than you get out of people sometimes. But look at young Charles’ waiting room, full of women wanting a chat.’ She chuckled, an unexpectedly dirty laugh. ‘Can’t climb trees though you know.’

  ‘Charlie?’ Lucy was startled, tree climbing was not something she’d imagined to find on Charlie’s CV.

  ‘Oh good heavens no. The dog. Molly. The collie used to climb trees, would be straight up there after the squirrels. Quick as you like. You should have seen the look on the squirrel’s face first time she did it.’ Sh
e hooked one hand through Lucy’s arm, and leant on her walking stick on the other side. Though Lucy wondered if either prop was really needed. ‘She was a feisty little thing was Rosie, kept me amused. But my Molly is far more sedate, suits me better now I’m old and doddery.’

  ‘You’re not—’

  ‘Oh believe me I am my dear, I creak when I move. Damned old age. Molly has her mad moments, but she’s much more suitable for an OAP like me. Lovely dogs they are, retrievers, had them when I was a girl. You can have one of the pups.’

  ‘But I…’

  ‘Annie won’t mind.’

  Annie might not, but how could she explain that she’d be going before they were even weaned? That her house wasn’t really in the ideal spot for dog walking. That she didn’t really want to get attached to an animal.

  Despite her logical thoughts though, a pang of longing hit her. Sometimes it felt like leaving her old home, leaving the dog, had only been yesterday. She could remember curling up on her bed, desperate to wrap her arms round his warm body and bury her face in his fur. Smell the doggy comforting smell, feel him breathing steadily, keeping her safe, secure.

  ‘You’re a village girl, aren’t you?’ The old lady didn’t wait for a response. ‘A city girl wouldn’t just slip into life here in the way you have. Take that young Serena,’ she waved her stick flamboyantly, ‘stands out a mile, and Felicity. Have you met Felicity dear?’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Desperate to fit in, but she never will until she stops trying. Not that I’m saying there is anything wrong with them. This way dear, we have to say good morning to the ducks. But you are different. Much different. Now, I have to ask, have you considered Timothy’s proposal?’

  ‘Well, I…’ Lucy had thought the discussion had been in confidence, but obviously nothing was in Langtry Meadows.

  ‘We had a stroll and a chat yesterday while the Morris Men were doing their worst. There are some traditions that I’d be quite happy to see the back of, so noisy. All that jangling bells and leaping around like court jesters.’ She tutted again. ‘I’ve known Timothy since he was in short trousers, he can’t keep a secret from me! You coming here was for a reason dear, the school needs you and I rather think you might need the school.’