by Alice Ross
Kate switched her countenance to rueful. ‘It’s by invitation only,’ she said. Even though it wasn’t. The club was so accommodating they’d welcome anyone. But she didn’t feel the need to share that information with the snooty pair.
Within one hour, every item – apart from the banana loaf she’d squirrelled away – had been snapped up from Kate’s stall. While Frances stood with a face like thunder, manning the tombola.
‘That was fun, wasn’t it?’ gushed Kate, gathering up her empty plates. ‘I’ve made over two hundred pounds.’
She cast a look at the handful of coins in Frances’s bowl. ‘Maybe think about something a bit more original next time,’ she said, before whisking away with her plates, and a very smug smile.
‘This is even better than I remember,’ exclaimed Gregg in the practice office that afternoon.
For reasons she couldn’t fathom, the banana bread Kate had hidden away at nursery had been to share with him. Just like in the old days. And for all she knew that was weird, she hadn’t been able to help herself.
‘And that sounds hysterical at the nursery,’ he added.
Kate gave an ironic snort. ‘I’m normally the hysterical one at nursery. And not funny hysterical. Honestly, every time I drop Jemima off, I have my wrists slapped for something or other. Which makes me feel like the worst mother on the planet.’
He shook his head, beaming at her. ‘Well, I haven’t met your kids, but if you’re as good a mother as you are a vet, you’ll be brilliant.’
‘Thanks. But I’m not sure I’d be a great vet any more. I’ve lost all my confidence.’
‘Perfectly normal when you’ve been out the game for a while. A couple of weeks back in the driving seat and it would all come back.’
‘I’m not sure I want it to.’
He quirked a brow. ‘But you used to love it.’
Kate sighed. ‘I know. But I’ve changed. I feel ready for something different. A complete change.’
‘Like?’
‘I have no idea.’
He smiled. ‘Well, given how good this banana bread is, maybe you should think about becoming a baker.’
This evening was definitely the evening, Kate decided. She’d spent a lovely hour in the practice with Gregg that afternoon, but the fact that he’d played such a significant role in her past, and that she hadn’t yet informed her husband of his reappearance, was making her feel increasingly like an adulteress.
She caught Andrew in the bedroom, as he was drying off after his shower that evening.
‘Everything all right?’ he asked, wrapping a towel around his waist.
Kate noticed the beginnings of a spare tyre and tried desperately not to compare it to Gregg’s very flat abdomen, the muscular definition of which she hadn’t been able to help noticing through his shirt the other day.
‘Everything’s fine,’ she replied, doing her utmost to sound relaxed; like this development was no big deal. ‘I just wanted to tell you that…’
Milo burst into the room. ‘Mia in toilet,’ he announced.
‘Bloody hell,’ muttered Andrew, charging out of the room.
Chapter Eleven
The phone pressed to one ear, Kate waggled a finger in the other.
‘Sorry. Would you mind repeating that?’
‘Not at all. I can imagine it’s come as quite a shock,’ chuckled the solicitor on the other end of the line. ‘But it clearly states in Mrs Dunlop’s will that her house is to go to you.’
In the living room, Kate sank down onto the sofa behind her. ‘But I don’t deserve it. I haven’t done anything to warrant such a generous gesture.’
‘I only know what she told me,’ said the man. ‘She thought you were a wonderful vet. And, were it not for your skills, she’d have lost her beloved cat years ago.’
‘I was just doing my job.’
‘And doing it extremely well in her opinion. It must be nice to know your efforts are appreciated. One rarely receives such gestures in the legal profession.’
He laughed.
Kate didn’t. Mrs Dunlop’s cottage was beautiful, situated on the edge of the village, next to the veterinary practice. She’d been in it several times over the years. As well as four bedrooms, it had a large kitchen and a huge dining/living room. With much of the original stone exposed inside, it was packed with charm and character. As was the rear garden – a lovely space fringed with fruit trees and rhododendron bushes.
‘I’ll leave it with you,’ said the solicitor. ‘You need some time for the news to sink in. Needless to say, there are several legalities to go through before the property is officially yours. But, in the meantime, if you want to have a look around, I believe her neighbour has a key. I’ll be in touch in due course.’
‘Right. Yes. Thank you,’ muttered Kate.
‘Something is wrong?’ enquired Domenique, discovering Kate on the sofa fifteen minutes later, tears streaming down her cheeks.
‘Someone’s left me a house in their will,’ Kate sniffed. ‘I can’t believe how kind that is.’
‘A house?’ echoed the Frenchwoman. ‘But that is good news. Why are you crying? You English are… what is the word? Bonkers. You English are the bonkers.’
To Kate’s amazement, Mrs Dunlop’s neighbour, Hilda, knew all about the inheritance.
‘I’ve known for years,’ she said, as she and Kate sipped tea in the old lady’s kitchen. ‘But I can tell by your face that you had no idea.’
‘None. And I feel completely unworthy. I thought she’d have left all her worldly goods to animal charities.’
‘She did. Apart from the house. She knew you’d make good use of it.’
Kate drew in a flabbergasted breath. ‘Well, that shows remarkable faith, because I have no idea what to do with it.’
‘Inspiration will strike when you least expect. Just you wait and see,’ chuckled Hilda.
‘Let’s hope so,’ uttered Kate. Thinking there was more chance of the twins eating all their vegetables at dinner.
Ten minutes later Kate was standing outside Mrs Dunlop’s cottage, unable to believe it would soon be hers, when Gregg loped out of the veterinary practice door.
‘You okay?’ he asked on spotting her.
She shook her head. ‘Not really. I’ve had a huge shock.’
His face dropped.
‘Oh. Not a bad shock. A good one,’ she explained. ‘A brilliant one, in fact. But it’s knocked me for six.’
‘Well, I was just popping out for a sandwich. We could nip to the pub if you want. You look like you could do with a drink.’
‘That,’ puffed Kate, ‘sounds like a wonderful idea.’
‘She’s left you the house,’ echoed Gregg, over a glass of orange juice and a toasted sandwich in the village pub. ‘Blimey. That’s awesome.’
‘I know,’ agreed Kate. ‘Or it would be if I had any idea what to do with it.’
‘Sell it?’
‘I couldn’t. I’d feel like I was letting her down. According to her neighbour, Mrs D knew I would – and I quote – “put it to good use”.’
‘You could rent it out.’
‘No. Still wouldn’t feel right.’
He puffed out his cheeks. ‘In that case, I’m all out of suggestions. The old lady obviously had a lot of faith in you, though. And so have I. I know you’ll come up with the perfect use for it.’
Kate laughed. ‘I forgot you always said the right thing.’
‘Comes with years of practice,’ he chuckled, with yet another twinkle in his lovely blue eyes.
As if the house news wasn’t enough to deal with, Gregg’s twinkling blue eyes had added another load of confusion to Kate’s spinning head. She attempted to push all twinkling thoughts away as she informed Andrew of the inheritance.
‘That’s fantastic,’ he exclaimed. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
For what felt like the fifty-sixth time that day, Kate heard he
rself saying, ‘I have no idea.’
When Kate pushed the twins, safely strapped into their buggy, down to the newsagent’s the following day, she found Connie already aware of the house development, the news having apparently spread round the village like wildfire.
‘I still can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘And please don’t ask me what I’m going to do with it, because I have no clue whatsoever.’
‘Nice problem to have, though,’ remarked Connie, handing the twins a jelly dummy each. Milo promptly shoved his up his nose. ‘I could do with a stroke of luck like that. As much as I love running the shop, it’s not exactly a career. And if Eleanor decides to sell, then I’m up the creek without a paddle. Have you heard from her and your dad recently?’
‘I have. They’re fine. Apart from Eleanor being eaten alive by mosquitoes. They’re coming over soon.’
‘Good. Maybe she’ll let me know her plans then.’
‘I’m sure she will. And while we’re talking about plans, how’s it going with you and Max?’
Connie smiled. ‘Really well. He’s away flying a lot, so we’re taking things slowly, which suits me fine. After the way my ex treated me, I don’t want to rush into anything.’
‘Very sensible. He’s a great guy.’
‘I know. And on the subject of great guys, do you realise that every female in the village is drooling over the dishy new vet? I have a feeling Little Biddington’s animal population is going to suffer all kinds of undiagnosable illnesses over the next few weeks.’
Kate laughed, before turning serious. ‘Actually, between me and you, there’s a bit of a story there.’
Connie widened her eyes. ‘That sounds intriguing. Tell me more.’
Kate grimaced. ‘I really shouldn’t, but it’s killing me keeping it to myself.’
Connie leaned in further.
‘The thing is… Gregg was my first ever boyfriend.’
Connie’s mouth dropped open. ‘No!’
‘Uh huh,’ replied Kate, nodding. ‘We met when we were students. And it was pretty serious for a few years. To be honest, I thought he was The One.’
‘Kate Ellis. You dark horse. So what happened?’
Kate related the tale about Australia.
‘And you haven’t seen him since?’
‘No. Hadn’t given him a thought in years, until his CV popped up on my computer.’
‘And what’s it like having him around again?’
‘Weird.’
‘Good weird or bad weird?’
‘Good. But don’t you dare tell anyone I said that.’
‘My lips are sealed. What does Andrew think about it?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t told him.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m not. I started to tell him the other night, but then there was a crisis with one of the kids.’
‘This is seriously better than any soap opera,’ tittered Connie. ‘And what about him and Domenique?’
‘Nothing else to report.’
‘Well, there you go then. You’re far too clever not to notice if something was going on.’
‘You think?’
‘Absolutely.’
Connie was right, Kate assured herself, watching Domenique smile at another of her texts at lunchtime. For all her once razor-sharp brain had turned to mush since having the children, surely she would know if anything was going on between her husband and the Frenchwoman under her own roof.
‘I can take Jemima swimming after nursery, if you like,’ Domenique offered.
‘Yes. I’m sure she’d like that,’ replied Kate.
Kate took the twins to the park that afternoon. They arrived home shortly before Domenique and Jemima.
‘Why is Milo drinking out of a bowl on the floor?’ asked Jemima.
‘He’s pretending he’s the poodle we saw when we were out, darling,’ replied Kate. ‘Did you enjoy swimming?’
‘Uh huh. Cecilia was there with her daddy. We had a race.’
‘That was nice,’ said Kate, pleased to see her daughter smiling. ‘We’re having pizzas for tea.’
‘Cool,’ said the child.
The success of the nursery cake stall, which had raised sufficient funds to feed the Angolan orphans for at least three months – according to Mrs Allen – appeared to have greatly elevated Kate in the woman’s estimation.
‘Good morning,’ she gushed, as Kate and the children made their way up the path towards the huge clog. ‘Oh. And how lovely you’ve brought the little ones,’ she added, attempting a smile which made her look like she suffered from intestinal problems.
‘They’re so looking forward to starting here next year,’ said Kate.
‘And we’re so looking forward to having them,’ replied Mrs A, through slightly clenched teeth as she watched Milo clambering over the clog. ‘Actually,’ she continued. ‘I’m… um… glad I caught you. I wanted to have a word about that cookery club of yours. I’ve read the blog and it sounds very interesting.’
Kate blinked, suspecting she might not like what was about to follow.
‘I wondered, when you said about membership being by invitation only, who issues the invitations.’
Kate drew in a deep breath, silently uttering a little prayer that she might walk away from the nursery without having Mrs A as the latest club member. ‘Well,’ she began, crossing her fingers behind her back, ‘any existing member could issue an invitation, but we’d have to be confident the person would fit in.’
‘Oh. Absolutely,’ agreed Mrs A, nodding effusively. ‘And what… criteria would you be focusing on?’
‘Erm…’ blustered Kate, mentally conjuring up a list that incorporated none of Mrs A’s attributes. Before she could reel any off, however, Frances appeared – whose attitude towards Kate also seemed to have miraculously altered since the fundraising day.
‘Sorry to interrupt, but I wondered if Jemima would like to come over after nursery?’ she said.
‘Can we laminate more labels for the toy boxes?’ asked Jemima.
‘Of course,’ replied Frances, flashing a satisfied smile at Kate.
‘Great,’ gushed Kate, spotting an opportunity to finish the awkward conversation with Mrs A. ‘Well, I’ll pick her up about five, if that’s okay. Thanks so much. Bye.’
And with that, she grabbed the twins and legged it down the path to her car.
For all it wasn’t a sentiment she was overly familiar with, Kate couldn’t help feeling smug as she pulled up at Frances’s house to collect Cecilia that afternoon – even if the woman did have the cleanest windows she’d ever seen.
Jeremy answered the door. ‘Hi, Kate. How are you?’
‘Fine, thank you. You?’
‘Plodding on,’ he replied, through his Hollywood smile. ‘I hear Mrs Dunlop’s left you her house.’
‘Crikey. News does travel quickly.’
‘That’s the Cotswolds for you. No secrets here,’ he chuckled with a disconcerting wink.
That evening, after a monumental struggle, six stories and a serious reshuffling of cuddly toys, Kate eventually achieved her goal of having three children tucked up in bed and dozing soundly. Tip-toeing downstairs, she spotted Andrew and Domenique in the living room.
Side by side on the sofa.
Whispering.
So focused was she on the pair as she continued her quiet descent, she failed to notice the squeaky giraffe on the bottom step. As her foot inadvertently squeezed the air from it, it emitted a shrill whine.
Andrew leapt to his feet, whipping around to his wife, who was now striding across the hall towards him.
‘Everything all right?’ he asked, looking, Kate thought, rather guilty.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied. Because she really didn’t.
Chapter Twelve
Kate had no idea why, but when she heard Gregg’s voice over the telephone the next morning, her heart skipped a beat.
>
‘I hate to bother you,’ he began, ‘but Sarah’s rung in sick and I don’t know what to do.’
‘Blimey,’ puffed Kate. ‘That’s a first. In all the time she’s worked for me, she’s never been sick. I hope it’s nothing serious.’
‘She’s blaming last night’s takeaway. And she was so apologetic. But I honestly have no idea what to do.’
Nor did Kate. Sarah’s niece, Natalie, always covered holidays and helped out at busy times, but she was currently sunning herself in Zante.
‘I’ll come in,’ she said.
‘No. There’s no need for that. I’m sure I can cope by myself. Somehow.’
‘I’m sure you can. But I’d rather you didn’t. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.’
‘But what about the children?’
Kate looked over at Milo, who was crayoning the rocking horse’s face orange. ‘It’s fine. Domenique will look after them. And, between you and me, I’ll be glad of a break.’
And she really would be glad of the break, Kate decided, as she rummaged through her new clothes, deliberating over what to wear. Since that sighting of Andrew and the au pair the previous evening, her brain had once again been frazzled.
‘You and Domenique looked very cosy earlier,’ she’d said to her husband, when they’d been alone in the kitchen later. ‘What were you talking about?’
‘Oh. Just the kids,’ he’d uttered, swiping up the ketchup bottle from the table and marching over to a cupboard with it.
Watching him figure out which cupboard it should go in, Kate had concluded the move had been a very blatant diversion tactic.
Domenique, meanwhile, had remained her usual controlled, competent and efficient self. Providing Kate with no clue whatsoever as to what might be going on.
In an effort to drag her thoughts away from the pair, she refocused on the day ahead – namely the practice and what to wear, assuring herself that her sartorial deliberations were everything to do with presenting a professional image. And nothing to do with impressing the locum vet.
‘Wow. You look great,’ Gregg exclaimed, when she entered the practice a short while later, wearing a knee-length khaki skirt and a white linen blouse.
‘Thanks,’ she muttered, shuffling behind the desk and praying he didn’t notice the heat rushing to her cheeks. Resisting the urge to add “so do you” – because, in his navy chinos and short-sleeved blue shirt, he looked decidedly gorgeous – she pressed a few random buttons on the computer, asking instead, ‘So, what do we have on the agenda today?’
