by Lucy Daniels
‘Still awful though.’ His voice was intense. ‘Have you been to the police?’
Mandy admitted that she had.
‘You will make sure they’re following it up?’ James urged her. ‘Keep in contact with Ellen Armstrong. It sounds like some kind of hate crime.’
Mandy winced. Put like that, it seemed as if she had got off lightly. So far.
James seemed to read her mind. ‘It sounds as if things are escalating. You have to find out who’s behind it before some real damage is done.’ He stopped at the entrance to a bridge and looked at her, his brown eyes serious behind his glasses. ‘No wonder you’re not in the mood for Christmas.’
Halfway across, they leaned over the wall to look down at the dark, swirling water. James reached down to rub Seamus’s head. ‘About Jimmy and his ex,’ he said. ‘Is there any chance it could be a misunderstanding?’
Mandy shook her head. ‘I did wonder about that,’ she admitted. ‘I knew they were still friends. I’d seen them out together once before, back when I was still going out with Simon. But they were holding hands across the table. She even kissed him as she went up to the bar.’ She clenched her teeth to stop herself talking.
‘I’m sorry you had to find out that way.’ James reached out a hand to give her shoulder a squeeze. ‘Whatever happens, it’s better to know the truth, don’t you think? If Jimmy’s not the one, you’ll be free to find someone else.’
‘What about you?’ They were still leaning on the wall. The water slid beneath them, flowing steadily south to the North Sea. ‘Do you ever think about finding someone else?’
Beside her, Mandy felt a deep shudder run through her friend. The muscles in his jaw bunched. ‘Sorry,’ she said, cursing her insensitivity. ‘One day I’ll learn to keep my big mouth shut.’
James managed a pained smile. ‘Please don’t,’ he said. ‘So many people don’t know what to say that they don’t say anything at all. There’s nothing you could say that will offend me.’
They wandered on. ‘How are your mum and dad?’ James called as he waited for Seamus to finish sniffing a lamp post.
Mandy felt the colour drain from her face. She had been hoping James wouldn’t ask. It didn’t seem fair to spring the massive question mark over Emily’s health on him so soon after Paul. James loved Emily like a favourite aunt. Mandy knew she could try to lie, but he would see straight through her.
Their steps suddenly seemed very loud on the path. Beside them a boat chugged upstream, struggling against the current.
‘Mum’s not well,’ Mandy admitted, when the silence had stretched so thin that the air felt like glass. ‘She collapsed on Tuesday.’ James kept walking. His face was white, but he glanced expectantly at Mandy, waiting for more information. ‘She’s at home,’ Mandy went on. ‘Getting lots of rest. We’re waiting for blood results.’ She stopped, holding her breath. How would James react?
‘I’m so sorry.’ It sounded as if James was finding it hard to speak. ‘I do know …’ He trailed off, his jaw set.
He knew better than most. There were tears in his eyes, and Mandy felt her face starting to crumple. Her relationship with her parents was unusually strong. She had been adopted as a baby, but both Mum and Dad had loved her so unquestioningly, with such steadiness, that she had never felt like anything other than their precious daughter. Dad was Dad, the best father in the world, hardworking, teasing and full of fun. The easiest person in the world to be with, a source of everything that was positive in life.
Mandy’s relationship with Emily had been more subtle: harder to define. Mum had trusted Mandy. Shown faith in her judgement, given her space to be ruled by her own conscience. She was, on some level, the person who had influenced Mandy most. Without her, Mandy would have been a very different person.
‘There’s nothing I can say that will help.’ James’s voice broke through her thoughts, steadier than Mandy expected. ‘I hope you get some answers soon. Try not to worry.’
Good advice. Almost impossible to apply. James reached for Mandy’s hand and gripped it so hard, it was almost painful. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions,’ he urged, then, ‘you will let me know, won’t you?’
Mandy swallowed. ‘Of course I will.’
For several long moments, they walked onwards. In front of them, the dogs trotted side by side, fur brushing together. Mandy envied them their innocence, their trust in the humans closest to them to keep everything safe and as it should be.
James picked up the pace. ‘We should go back via the bookshop,’ he suggested. ‘I’ve got something to show you.’
‘That sounds good,’ Mandy said, trying to pull herself together. She adored James’s little bookshop-café, with its nooks and crannies and tumbling heaps of utterly readable books.
They made their way back along the riverbank, through Rowntree Park. A few barges were moored close to the narrow road that ran along the riverside, though there was little life to be seen. Mandy began to feel calmer as they walked through the city centre. They threaded their way past tourists and shoppers until they reached James’s shop. Mandy stopped outside to admire the decorations in the window. The space behind the glass had been transformed into an animal-themed snow scene, complete with sledging kittens as well as a tasteful miniature tree, hung with little animals and white lights that shone warm in the softly lit interior.
‘Sherrie’s done a fantastic job,’ James said as she peered in. ‘Come on in.’ He opened the door. ‘We can put the dogs in the staffroom,’ he added, leading Lily and Seamus through and taking off their leads. Mandy and Sky followed.
‘What did you want to show me?’ Mandy asked. ‘Was it the window?’
‘It was not.’ For the first time since Paul had died, James’s eyes were properly twinkling. He led her round into one of the cosy alcoves further back in the shop. ‘Look.’ He held out his arms.
A table stood in the recess holding an array of animal books, non-fiction as well as classic stories, beautifully arranged. Above the display, straight in front of Mandy, there was a poster on the wall. Mandy glanced at it, then stared. It was a picture of two young donkeys who looked very familiar. Behind them, she recognised the unmistakeable lines of her rescue centre. It was Holly and Robin, she realised. On her left, she saw a photo of Sky that she had taken back in the summer on top of Norland Fell. When she turned to her right, she felt herself turn red. She was looking at a photograph of herself, beaming with a newborn lamb in her arms. She hoped that wasn’t a smear of poop on her cheek.
A notice was pinned to the front edge of the table: ‘All proceeds from the sale of these books will be donated to Hope Meadows Rescue Centre.’
‘What do you think?’ Sherrie had come over and was standing beside James. Her white-blonde hair was tied back in beaded dreadlocks, and she was wearing patched turquoise dungarees over a handknitted purple sweater.
‘It was Sherrie who made the posters,’ James explained. ‘Using photos from your website.’
‘I hope you don’t mind.’ Sherrie sounded a little anxious.
‘Mind?’ There were tears in Mandy’s eyes. She shook her head in disbelief. ‘I definitely don’t mind.’ She looked at the posters again, then back down at the books. There was a small spotlight in the corner illuminating the table. The books looked appetising for every age and preference of animal lover, from picture book stories to a guide to endangered feline species in Asia. ‘It’s wonderful,’ she said. ‘Thanks so much.’ She turned and squeezed James’s hand, then Sherrie’s. ‘Thanks, both of you.’
‘We’ve been selling Hope Meadows biscuits too,’ Sherrie told her. Mandy followed her round to the counter. Glass jars ran the full length, containing different-shaped animal biscuits. There were cats and reindeer, rabbits and sheep. There was even a tortoise. All of them were cheerfully iced.
Sherrie traced her finger along the side of a jar of rabbits. ‘My niece India helped me with these. She’s only ten, but I can tell you that her icing skills are far better than mine! It was
her idea to use chocolate chips for the noses.’
‘May I buy one?’ Mandy asked. Is James telepathic, she wondered? She had been planning to ask him about fundraising ideas, and he was several leaps ahead already. The proceeds from biscuits and books wouldn’t make much of a dent in her overdraft, but they would definitely feed several animals for a while. Mandy pressed her hand against his cheek. ‘I can’t believe you’ve done all this.’
James grinned at her. ‘Isn’t this what we’ve always done?’ he said. ‘We help animals as a team. You didn’t think I’d leave you to do it all on your own, did you?’
She wanted to hug him, but the door opened and a customer came in, and then another.
‘Give us a hand?’ Sherrie suggested.
As the afternoon rush started and the café filled up, Mandy found herself feeling properly festive for the first time. The animal biscuits sold well, especially the rabbits with chocolate noses. Sherrie had made some special Christmas soup of sprout and parsnip. Despite sounding awful, it was warming and delicious. ‘It’s tastier than it sounds,’ Mandy told people as they came in. She could feel her grin grow wider each time she said it.
‘Merry Christmas!’ she called out as the last customers, an elderly couple in matching pom-pom hats, made their way to the door.
‘You too,’ they replied.
Together, the three of them began to tidy up the last of the crockery. Mandy wiped the tables while Sherrie sorted out the till. James was washing a few glasses by hand. When they were finished, Mandy looked round the room. It had been an amazing afternoon, and her worries felt dimmed in a haze of goodwill. A couple of people, recognising her from the photo, had asked about the rescue centre. There had been nothing but positivity from everyone she had spoken to.
‘Here!’ As she pulled on her coat to leave, Sherrie held out a piece of paper. It was a cheque for £600. ‘To buy Christmas food for your animals,’ Sherrie said.
‘It’s an ongoing project,’ James told her. ‘There’ll be more to come.’
Feeling the prickle of grateful tears behind her eyes, Mandy reached out and hugged Sherrie and then James. ‘This has been the best day I’ve had in a long time,’ she said. ‘Thank you both so much for everything.’
Calling to Sky, clutching the precious donation, she set off back to the car for the long drive home.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘You know you have two wonderful fairy godmothers in York?’ Mandy addressed the dogs in the kennels. Flame looked through the bars, her long tail switching from side to side. Twiglet tilted her head. Her ears pricked as she listened to Mandy’s voice. ‘Though hopefully you’ll be having Christmas in a lovely new home,’ she said to Melon. His button eyes were bright and he gave the tiniest bark in return. Mandy sighed. If she won the lottery, she would build a dozen rescue centres and keep all the animals for herself.
Or would that bring even more hostility from Hope Meadows’ invisible enemy?
Mandy shook her head. She wasn’t going to think about that, she reminded herself. Until they knew who was behind the attacks, there was nothing she could do, other than stay vigilant for any signs of trouble. Closing the door behind her, she headed into the cottage for breakfast. Adam was in the kitchen, making toast. Emily was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her.
‘I’m due at the doctor’s this morning,’ Emily said. As if she could forget, Mandy thought. The time was imprinted on her brain.
‘You know I’ve got to be at Twyford.’ Adam’s glance was filled with worry. He hadn’t been able to put off a critical tuberculosis test so that he could take Emily to the surgery.
‘I know.’ There was no resentment in Emily’s voice. Veterinary practice had moulded their life for too long now.
‘I could come with you,’ Mandy suggested, though she suspected her mum would say no.
‘Would you?’
Mandy was taken aback. She looked closely at Emily. There was a trace of fear in her blue eyes. If this was difficult for her, how much harder must it be for Mum?
‘Of course I will.’ She made her voice as reassuring as she could. Monday mornings could be busy, but one way or another, she would get through everything in time. Squaring her shoulders, she stood up. ‘Better get on then,’ she said.
It looked as busy as she had feared, though when she studied the list closely, most of the work was routine. There was a spay she could do when she got back. Two vaccinations. One coughing dog. ‘Did you remind Mrs Jenson to stay in the car with Boysie?’ she asked Helen, who nodded. Ears. A skin follow-up for Demodex mites; Mandy hoped the treatment was working. Then one more vaccination. Unless anyone phoned with an emergency, she should be able to get through those by ten thirty.
Letting herself into the consulting room, she checked the first patient on the screen. Damocles Jamieson for a routine vaccination. Damocles? That was quite a name for a French Bulldog. Mandy grabbed a syringe from the drawer and the vaccine from the fridge. She checked the room. The stethoscope was on a hook on the wall: thermometer and covers in the drawer. There were wormers in the cupboard. Hearing the clinic door, Mandy went through to watch as Helen booked the first client in. Contrary to his warlike name, Damocles was a meek little pooch, all soft skin and soulful eyes. Mandy relaxed. She would take this as a good omen that the morning would run smoothly, she decided.
Damocles proved to be a reliable lucky mascot. The last patient left on the dot of ten thirty and Mandy changed in double-quick time to drive her mum to the surgery. It wasn’t far, and they could have walked it, but Mandy didn’t want to test her mum’s fragile reserve of energy. Mum sat beside her in the car, looking out of the window. Mandy’s fingers felt stiff as she changed gear. She rolled her shoulders back, fighting the anxiety that threatened to take over.
When they walked into the waiting room, three other patients looked up. Mandy glanced at the clock on the wall. It was five to eleven. Maybe some of them were waiting to see the nurse. She sat down with Emily just as the door to the nurse’s room opened.
‘Mr Abbot?’ The nurse was dressed in a dark blue uniform with white piping. She was gazing expectantly at the only man in the room. Mr Abbot looked about ninety, but he stood up as if he was much younger. The door closed again.
Mandy’s gaze wandered. There were blue chairs with wooden armrests, a busy notice board, two plants in large pots on the floor. There was nothing austere about the surroundings, but it was too quiet, sitting there. Mandy was glad when the door opened and the doctor called them in. Dr Grace had short brown hair in a no-nonsense cut and calm brown eyes. It was hard to read her expression. Mandy felt a tingling sensation in her fingers. She tried to slow her breathing. The last thing her mum needed was for her to start freaking out. Taking a deep breath, she sat down and concentrated on the doctor’s face.
‘Well, we’ve had the results back,’ Dr Grace said calmly, ‘and as well as being a little anaemic, you’re very low in vitamin B12. You must have been feeling poorly for a while.’ There was a steady smile now, to match the eyes. For a moment, Mandy felt as if she was weightless. Beside her, she could feel Mum shaking. She leaned towards her, pressing her shoulder against Emily’s as her mum’s fingers reached for her hand.
‘There are some further tests you should have,’ Dr Grace went on, ‘but we’ll start you off with some iron tablets and a vitamin injection.’
‘What might have caused it?’ Emily sounded as if she feared worse news.
Dr Grace was reassuring. ‘It can be dietary or there are a number of stomach problems that can trigger it. Mostly it’s nothing serious.’ The trembling slowed, though the hand that was gripping Mandy’s was still chilly. ‘I’ll just get the injections ready, then I’ll get you a prescription,’ the doctor said. ‘You should start to feel better quite soon.’
There was a lump in Mandy’s throat as they walked back out to the car a few minutes later. Her mum was going to be okay. She was going to be okay!
‘Was
it true, what the doctor said?’ she prompted. ‘That you’d been feeling bad for a while?’ There was a tiny atom of frustration behind her relief. What if it had been something awful? ‘Wouldn’t it have been better to go sooner?’
Emily sighed. ‘It has been a while,’ she admitted. ‘But it came on so gradually, I couldn’t work it out. I just felt tired.’ Mandy drove out of the car park and stared out of the windscreen, concentrating on the road. ‘Then I started to feel like I wasn’t really myself. It was hard to remember things. I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. I wondered whether this was just what it felt like to get old.’ Mandy risked a glance at her mum. Emily had closed her eyes again. A single tear escaped and ran down her pale cheek. Mandy pretended not to see as her mother lifted a hand and brushed it away.
‘You’re not old.’ Mandy reached out and squeezed her mum’s shoulder. ‘You’re not going to be old for years.’ She felt a surge of protectiveness. If it had been frightening for her, it must have been unbearable for Emily.
Back at the clinic, with Helen’s help, Mandy performed the spay that had been booked in. It was a lurcher that looked so much like Flame it was uncanny. Though the slimness of the patient made the operation easier, the anaesthetic for such a muscular dog required a cautious approach. It was a relief when the operation was over.
‘I’m going over to the rescue centre,’ she told Helen when she had finished scrubbing her hands. She knew she would be able to relax properly in her beautiful glass and stone building, among the animals that trusted her with nothing less than their lives.
It was time to do some kitten training. Mandy was in the process of teaching them to open their mouths to be tableted. Forking a small quantity of tuna into a bowl, she went through to the cat area and took the first kitten out. He was black and white like his mother, with large golden eyes. He was already used to having his head and ears examined. The little animal was interested enough in what was happening to sit still. Now Mandy set to work, getting the kitten used to having his mouth opened manually. Each time she successfully held his head, she rewarded him with a flake of tuna.
