‘I thought the deer could go in the shed on the far side of the barn,’ Jack suggests more seriously. ‘That’s out of the way.’
‘I’m not sure what state it’s in.’ Diane and the other volunteers cleared it out for the hedgehogs. It’s a good idea though: the less contact the deer has with humans, the better. ‘I’ll have a look.’
Jack stops and turns off the engine. I jump out and open up the shed, sliding the bar that keeps the door shut so that it swings, or rather scrapes, open.
‘It’s a bit rickety,’ I say.
‘It’s what?’ Jack calls from the back of the van.
‘I’ll get some straw, a flake of hay and a bucket of water, and drape a sheet across the window. It will have to do.’
‘You’ll have to suggest Talyton Animal Rescue pay for some state-of-the-art deer accommodation,’ Jack says. ‘I’ve visited a wildlife rescue centre where they had stables with air-conditioning, dimmer switches and deer-cams. The animals lived in luxury.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be happening here anytime soon. Although the committee’s agreed in principle to release the funds, there’s a legal process to go through and it’s taking some time.’ I set up the shed for the deer before Jack and I carry the crate inside. I close the door behind us and Jack opens the side of the crate. Immediately, the patient rolls out, struggles to his feet and staggers blindly towards the wall, slamming his antlers against the timber. Jack and I make a rapid retreat, almost falling over each other on the way. We stop outside and, together, slide the bar back across the door.
Jack peers through a gap in the timbers.
‘What’s he doing? Is he okay?’ I ask, resting my hand on Jack’s shoulder as I stand behind him.
‘He’s up.’ Jack pauses, his muscles tensing under my fingers, before he turns to look at me, face to face and disarmingly near with a wicked glint in his eye. ‘What do you think we should do now?’
‘We should come back in an hour or so to check on him,’ I say quickly.
‘And in the meantime?’ Jack raises one eyebrow, and it’s here, my senses heightened with anticipation and desire, that I should and could have tilted my head just a fraction closer and pressed my lips to his, except the deer appears to have other ideas, thwarting any imminent passion by battering his way through the shed wall, his antlers and one cloven hoof emerging from the hole he’s made.
With a sigh of resignation, Jack tugs his polo-shirt over his head and drops it onto the deer’s head in an attempt to subdue it before wrestling it down as it emerges completely from the hole in the wall, when he hangs on to it by its antlers, the muscles in his arms taut and bulging as he waits for it to settle. He glances towards me.
‘I’m sorry, Tess. I usually wait to kiss a girl before I start taking my clothes off.’
‘I should hope so.’ I can’t help giggling at his cheek and it feels as if we’ve both managed to drop our baggage at last: the resentment and misunderstandings over the wedding, and our differences in opinion over how to tackle the welfare of animals like Dolly.
‘If you don’t want this, you must say so now and I’ll never mention it again,’ he goes on, his chest heaving with the effort of keeping the deer from escaping. ‘Actually, don’t worry about giving me an answer this minute – I can’t hang on to this guy much longer. Where are we going to put him?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say, tearing my eyes from the few curls of blond hair that adorn the lightly tanned skin between Jack’s pectorals. He doesn’t carry much spare flesh on him. ‘The dogs will scare him to death and he won’t fit in with the cats. How about one of the stables? I can turn Dolly out in the field, if you think it’ll disturb the deer having the pony right next door.’
The pony seems surprised to see me when I turn up with her head-collar, a state of mind that I take advantage of, bribing her with Polo mints to catch her before I lead her, without argument or barging, out to the field where she puts her head down to graze straight away.
‘Hurry, Tess,’ Jack calls. ‘I’m getting cramp.’
‘I’m hurrying,’ I call back. I throw down an extra flake of straw and more hay before returning to help Jack carry the deer, a struggling bundle of sinew and hoof, into the stable where we lower him down and make a run for it, closing the top and bottom doors before he can fly out after us. I can hear him leaping about, slamming himself into the walls.
‘Poor thing, I don’t think he’s going to make it,’ I say miserably. ‘I wish he had died before, or I’d asked Justin to put him to sleep. This is awful.’ As I face the stable door, my chest hollow with regret, I become aware that Jack is close beside me, his fingers sliding over my hand.
‘You shouldn’t be so pessimistic when he’s got this far. You should never give up … I did once,’ he goes on softly. ‘I gave up on something, someone who was the centre of my universe.’ He clears his throat, and I’m afraid to ask him to explain in case he’s talking about someone other than me, because all I can focus on at this moment is being the warm sun in the centre of Jack’s existence. Tessa and Jack, Jack and Tessa: my heart begins to beat a chaotic rhythm as his fingers tighten around mine.
‘You can’t predict the future,’ he says, keeping hold of my hand all the way back to the bungalow, and I can’t stop glancing down at his hand and my hand joined together, and my spirit is soaring high like a buzzard above the fields, and I can’t stop believing that Jack, the boy of my dreams and man of my reality, and I are on the verge of something wonderful, because, in spite of all that’s happened, I’m still a romantic at heart.
I’m dizzy and breathless with joy, but I’m not going to rush things this time, so I’m not disappointed when he relinquishes my hand to let me unlock the door where Tia and Buster let loose barking and scratching on the other side.
‘Jack, you don’t have to stay,’ I say, hesitating on the doorstep. ‘I can keep an eye on the deer.’
He frowns. ‘I want to stay, if it’s all right with you.’
‘Of course it’s all right.’ I smile wryly. There’s nothing I want more.
I push the door open, at which Buster greets me as if I’ve been away for four weeks, not four hours, huffing and puffing, wagging his tail and wiggling his whole body. Once he’s turned his attention to Jack, with whom he’s only marginally less overenthusiastic, Tia wanders across to sniff at my knees and lick my hand in welcome.
‘I wonder if Libby’s fed them.’ There are empty bowls on the floor in the kitchen, so I assume she has. I don’t think Tia would let her forget. ‘Would you like a drink, Jack?’
‘If it wasn’t for the deer, I’d take you out for dinner,’ he says. ‘We could go later.’
‘I can do eggs on toast.’ While I’m hunting for the frying pan, Jack gazes out through the kitchen window where the sun is beginning to set behind the hills.
‘I can’t believe you never feel lonely up here,’ he says, and I nod towards the dogs who are sitting beside the cupboard where I store their food, making out they’ve never been fed in their lives.
‘I’m hardly alone, am I? I never have a moment’s peace.’ I pause. ‘It is a bit creepy here sometimes though.’
‘What do you mean? Ghostly? It’s probably the spirit of Gloria Brambles haunting the place, checking up on you,’ Jack says brightly, but for me, it isn’t something to joke about.
‘I don’t believe in ghosts. It’s more of a feeling of being watched.’ I shrug off the anxiety that causes a temporary quickening of my pulse. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, just my overactive imagination, and anyway, if there was somebody out there, I have Buster and Tia to watch over me.’
‘A runaway and a blind dog,’ Jack chuckles before growing serious once more. ‘Tess, if you’re ever in the slightest bit worried, you can call me any time. I mean it.’
‘Thanks.’ I pull a loaf of bread out of the fridge. ‘How many eggs would you like?’
After eggs on toast with butter and black pepper, Jack and I sit down on the sofa to
gether. Romantic or what! Actually, not, because Tia and Buster are perched between us, Buster leaning in to me, nudging me each time I stop stroking his tummy, and Tia panting like mad, emitting heat like an oven. She’s far too hot, but she refuses to give up her place.
‘How is your aunt?’ says Jack, over Tia’s head. ‘I haven’t seen her for a while. Are there still problems between her and the committee? What’s your position?’
Position? I shift on my seat, my brain mulling over the possibility of a double entendre. I can’t help it. I am getting totally carried away by the idea that, by the end of the night, Jack is going to kiss me.
‘Are you safe here?’ he goes on.
‘I don’t know. I mean, I’m not getting paid.’
‘You aren’t? How are you managing?’
‘Eggs on toast every night,’ I say, smiling. ‘It’s all right. I have a very healthy diet now. My dad gives me eggs, and Fifi drops by with bread from the garden centre.’
Eventually Tia relinquishes her place on the sofa. Jack, I notice, slides his arm along the back towards me. Buster notices too. He cocks one ear, rolls one eye back and growls a long low warning: she’s mine, don’t touch.
‘Buster, I don’t need you protecting my honour.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ says Jack. ‘You don’t know what designs I have upon it, Tess.’
‘You think you’re so funny,’ I say dryly.
‘I’m not joking this time.’
‘You aren’t?’ I gaze past Buster and look Jack straight in the eye. His expression is gentle yet I can feel my body responding to the hunger that lies behind it.
‘I’ll just let Buster out for a wee.’ How to ruin the moment, I think as soon as the words come out of my mouth. ‘I could have put that better, couldn’t I?’
‘Go on then,’ Jack laughs. ‘Perhaps I should come with you, in case there are any baddies out there.’
‘I’ll be fine, but you could go and check on the deer.’
‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ Smiling, because he already knows the answer, he jumps up and disappears off outside while I let Buster and Tia out in the garden. I wait for them, musing on the theory that the amount of time it takes for a dog to go for a wee is directly proportional to the outdoor temperature and the amount of clothing being worn. It’s turned quite chilly. I call them back after a few minutes, giving Buster a lecture on the way back to the living room.
‘You can’t go telling me who I can or can’t see. Living with you is like living with my dad.’
‘I can’t blame him for wanting you all to himself,’ Jack says, joining us once more, sitting down close beside me so I can smell his animal scent of musk and fresh air. This time, when he takes my hand, Buster remains silent, and Jack goes on, in a low voice, ‘It’s what I’ve wanted for a very long time.’ He leans in and presses his lips to my cheek. ‘It’s what I’ve always wanted,’ he whispers before kissing me again, this time on the lips. I slide my hands up around the back of his neck and lean into his embrace, my heart pounding and heat surging through my body.
‘Me too,’ I murmur, as my doubts and fears for the future fragment and disappear, being replaced by an overwhelming happiness, the like of which I’ve never experienced before, convincing me that this is the beginning of something really special.
Chapter Fourteen
The Morning After the Night Before
I WAKE WITH a jolt, lying under the duvet with Jack’s arms around me, the morning light painfully bright and memories of the night before burning into my consciousness. Oh-mi-god, this is so bad – I gaze at Jack’s beautiful face, at the golden stubble that adorns his cheeks and chin, at the curve of his lips as he sleeps – and yet it’s so good.
I pinch myself because I can’t believe it. I don’t do this kind of thing, fall into bed with a guy on the first date. I correct myself. It wasn’t even a date … I know how I should feel about waking up with Jack, but it’s too late to be overwhelmed by a wave of virtue, and I salve my conscience, assuming that it won’t be long before I can safely say that Jack and I are an item, that we are boyfriend and girlfriend, and then it won’t matter.
As I lie there, revelling in the contact of his body against mine, I become aware of the sound of a vehicle turning into the car park.
‘Jack.’ I shake him by the shoulder. ‘Someone’s here.’
He mumbles an incoherent response, and I try again. ‘Jack, we have to get you out of here.’
‘Why, Tess? What for?’ He props himself up on his elbow and frowns. ‘Are you ashamed of me?’
I’m ashamed of myself, but I don’t tell him that.
‘I’d rather people didn’t find out that you stayed the night. Not yet.’
‘I don’t understand.’ He reaches over and plants a kiss on my lips. ‘I thought you liked me. Tess, I’m very fond of you, and I don’t care who in the world knows it, but if it makes you happy, I’ll get up and make out I’ve just arrived … Or,’ he adds with a wicked smile, ‘we could pretend we aren’t here, and make love all over again.’
It’s too late for that. There’s a knocking at the door that sets the dogs off barking, and a call of ‘Yoo hoo, it’s me, Tessa’ through the letterbox.
Groaning, I rest my hand across my forehead. ‘It’s my aunt.’ The thought of having to explain to Fifi is too much. I get out of bed, throw on a dressing gown and open the window wide. ‘You go that way,’ I whisper. ‘I’ll keep Fifi occupied for a couple of minutes – I’ll tell her you turned up early to check on the deer.’ I smile at his look of consternation. ‘Go on.’ I take as long as I reasonably can to walk along the hall to the front door, so Jack has time to retrieve his clothes.
‘You took your time,’ Fifi says sternly.
‘I was in bed – I overslept,’ I explain as my aunt, dressed in a red and white spotty summer dress and white shoes with red bows, hands me a hessian bag of provisions – bread, cheese and milk – keeping her eyes fixed on a point beyond my left ear, as if she’s expecting to see someone appear behind me.
‘I see Jack’s here early.’
‘Uh-huh?’ I’m not sure how to respond.
‘The van’s around the corner.’
‘Oh yes, that’s right. He texted me to say he was coming in to check on the deer, the one that fled into the ironmonger’s yesterday.’
‘Everyone’s talking about the Talyton stag,’ Fifi says. ‘His presence at the Sanctuary could be quite an asset. Ally Jackson can run his story in the Chronicle – there’ll be plenty of visitors who will want to see him.’
‘He’s a wild animal,’ I say. ‘We can’t have people looking in over the stable door.’
‘We could set up a webcam,’ Fifi says.
‘I thought’ – actually, I haven’t been thinking about stags at all, but the idea has just popped into my head – ‘that we might raise some money by having people pay a pound each to vote on a name for the deer. We could choose the best name and give a prize of chocolate, a certificate and a photo.
‘That’s a lovely idea.’
‘Why don’t you come inside?’ I say quickly, catching sight of Jack, who is skirting the edge of the car park towards the barn, his boots in one hand and socks in the other.
‘Is there something wrong?’ Fifi asks, her voice laced with suspicion. ‘You aren’t sickening for this summer flu that’s doing the rounds? You’re looking rather flushed.’
‘Am I?’ I touch my cheek.
‘Your nerves appear to be playing up.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my nerves, I can assure you,’ I say, trying not to giggle as Jack gives me a wave before disappearing around the corner. ‘Come on in. I’ll get the kettle on, get changed and make some breakfast for everyone.’
‘Would you like me to feed the babies first?’ Fifi asks. ‘That’s what I’m here for.’
‘We’ll do them together later. We can talk about the final arrangements for the ball,’ I say. (Diane didn’t objec
t when I told her that my aunt was going to continue to help me organise the ball, even though she was no longer chair. I think it suits Diane, who isn’t keen to put herself out.) I check the time. It’s eight o’clock and the birds usually have their first batch of mealworms or cat food at eight-thirty, or thereabouts.
I leave Fifi making tea in the kitchen while I throw on some jeans and a T-shirt, and run my fingers through my hair, thinking ruefully that I will have to do, and rushing back when I hear my aunt chatting to Jack.
‘I’m afraid the choice of breakfast is fresh bread or more toast.’ I say, handing Jack a mug of tea and hoping Fifi didn’t spot my slip of the tongue. ‘How is the patient?’
‘Didn’t you get my text?’ Jack responds.
I check my mobile that I must have left on the kitchen worktop last night. I flick it on and check the message: Dinner 2nite? Pick u up at 7 XXJ
‘The deer’s looking good,’ Jack goes on. ‘I left him nibbling at some hay. When did Justin say he’d be out to change the dressing?’
‘In three or four days. After that, I should be able to do it myself.’
I tell Fifi about the extent of the deer’s injuries and the damage to the shed over breakfast, which we eat in the living room with Buster and Tia sitting gazing at us, drooling at the sight and sweet scent of singed toast and jam. As we sit there, I notice a blackbird sitting on the lower branch of one of the apple trees, hopping back and forth and chirping, teasing one of the feral cats. The cat prowls around in circles with his eyes fixed on the bird, which stays tantalisingly out of reach. I am about to ask Jack about setting the traps again to see if we can catch any more when his mobile rings.
I notice how he frowns when he reads the number on the screen. He stands and holds up his hand to me. ‘I’ve got to go. Thanks for breakfast.’
I follow him down the hall, everything that I wish to say to him stifled by my aunt’s presence in the kitchen. ‘I’ll see you later.’
‘Yeah. Cheers, Tess,’ he says, before opening the front door and making a swift exit across the car park, driving past shortly afterwards in the van without a wave or an acknowledgement that I am there.
The Village Vet Page 22
