A Country Affair (24 page)

“You.”

“Me?”

Duncan nodded. “You. Didn’t you know?”

The shock of Duncan’s revelation silenced Mungo. When he did eventually answer, his voice was harsh and belligerent. “Is this you having one of your plain-speaking moments—you know, when you vent your spleen for the hell of it?”

“No, it’s the truth. I’m surprised you’ve never realized, all these years. She loved you when she married me and still does. It’s not easy for a husband to live with.”

“I’ve done nothing to . . .”

“I know you haven’t.”

“I’m stunned.” Mungo’s first thought was for Miriam. Slowly and deliberately, because he didn’t want to know the answer but knew he must, he asked, “Does Miriam know?”

“Of course not.”

“Joy speaks to you of it, then?”

“I’ve known for a long, long time, but we’ve never said it out loud to each other until a few nights ago.”

“I’m very fond of her, always have been, we’ve known each other a lot of years, worked together, you know, right from the early days. God, man, I’d no idea. You must hurt.”

Duncan agreed he did. “Like hell. I thought you should know.”

“Why? I don’t see what I can do about it.”

“Neither do I. Just thought you ought to know.” Duncan pointed a finger at Mungo. “If ever you do anything about it . . .”

“Don’t be a bloody fool. There’s too much at stake, in any case . . . If you’re bandying threats about, you remember to keep your mouth shut tight and don’t, whatever you do, tell Miriam. She is so very fond of Joy and it would ruin their relationship. I won’t allow it.”

“No.”

The complex emotions that had surfaced between them hung in the air. They heard sounds of footsteps and both tried to appear amicable together.

Miriam was standing in the doorway looking at them. “What’s the matter?” She looked from one to the other, awaiting their reply.

Duncan stood up. “Here’s your drink. Come and sit down.”

Mungo pulled an easy chair closer to the fire. “Sit here, look, next to me.”

“Men’s talk, then?” She squeezed Duncan’s fingers as he handed her her gin. “Joy won’t be a moment; Tiger’s been paddling in her water bowl so she’s mopping up. She’s turning into a lovely cat, isn’t she?”

Duncan nodded. “There’s something you don’t know.”

Mungo half rose out of his chair believing that Duncan was still in his mood to shock.

Miriam asked Mungo, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He sat back down again but not before he’d shot a warning glare at Duncan.

Duncan continued speaking: “I never thought I would live to see the day when I loved an animal, but I have to confess I bloody love that cat.”

Remembering his scathing attitude to Mungo over Perkins, Miriam laughed until she was almost helpless. “Wait till I tell Joy. Oh, dear! There’s a crack appearing in your armor, then?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, why not. It makes you more human.”

Mungo, sitting morosely staring into his whiskey, looked up and said snappily, “Where’s Joy? Is she coming?”

Joy answered his question by appearing in the sitting room. “I’m here at your service. Where’s my drink?”

They talked business, deciding that the temporary could stay till they found someone else, but there was no question of his being permanent.

Mungo expressed his feelings in no uncertain terms. “I didn’t take to the chap, not one bit. He’s too businesslike. It’s a job, not a vocation, to him and I don’t like that. With Valentine and Cohn and Rhodri and Graham and Zoe, and for that matter Scott, they all
like
animals and put their welfare first. This chap seemed to talk too much about making money.”

“Excuse me, but we do need to make money. We’ve got wages to pay,” Joy said.

Mungo nodded. “Of course, but there’s a limit. We’ll put up with him until we find the person we want. Right?”

Joy added, “Colin
is
your partner. Do we know what he thinks? Shouldn’t he have a say?”

“Oh, Colin! He’ll go along with our decision. You know what he’s like: anything for an easy life. And Zoe’s too preoccupied with the imminent arrival of the baby to be bothered.”

Finally they talked of this and that, of Scott leaving, of Kate and her hopes, and it was midnight before Miriam and Mungo were saying their good-byes.

“Good night! Good night!”

“Thank you.”

“Thanks for coming.”

Miriam called out from the car, “The pleasure’s all ours. Did you know that Duncan’s confessed to loving Tiger? Isn’t it a laugh? I’ll speak to you Monday about lunch next week. There’s something about my future I need to discuss. OK?”

Joy waited to wave to them as they turned into the road because Miriam always gave a big wave out of the window just before they disappeared and Joy didn’t want to disappoint her. She followed Duncan in, locked the front door and went to find him in the kitchen washing glasses.

“I’m so lucky to have Miriam for a friend. I don’t deserve her.”

Duncan didn’t answer.

“She’s so kind to me, isn’t she? She must never know what we talked about the other evening. I couldn’t look her in the eye if she did. You won’t ever tell her, will you?”

“Never.”

Chapter
15

B
ack at work on Monday, Kate hoped she was getting away with her pretense of finding Scott’s sudden disappearance no problem at all. As she’d promised herself, she was keeping her grieving for home. At work she intended to be as she always was—pleasant, efficient and happy. Meeting the clients was no problem, but working with Stephie and Lynne needed more willpower than she had ever imagined. All weekend the pain of Scott’s leaving kept surfacing and real life became a nightmare. She longed to put back the clock and pretend that she’d never let on to Scott how she felt about him, that he was still here and she could look forward to his coming into the practice for his list, or halfway through the day with an armful of samples for the lab, or ringing up and saying he’d be another half hour before he’d finished and should they go out somewhere? But he wouldn’t, not ever.

This was the day Miss Chillingsworth was going to be able to take new Cherub home. It had been a fight to keep new Cherub alive, but with intensive nursing and Rhodri’s brilliant piece of surgery, she had survived. None of the kittens had been alive when Rhodri operated and Cherub had been close to death too, but the two Sarahs and Bunty had given her forty-eight hours of round-the-clock nursing and she was now fit to go home. Kate had fully expected Miss Chillingsworth to be there before the morning clinic opened, but it was almost lunchtime when she came in, beaming from ear to ear, carrying her old cat basket.

“Kate, dear. Is she ready?”

“She is. Give me your basket and I’ll get her for you. There’s tablets for her to take too. Don’t go without them.”

Miss Chillingsworth leaned her elbows on the reception desk, wondering if she should divulge the reason for being so late collecting her dear new Cherub. She decided not. They would only think her a foolish old lady, which perhaps she was, and they wouldn’t be interested. She wouldn’t tell them how she’d spent the morning crying. How it had struck her that bringing her new Cherub home to her big house, with its echoing, shabby rooms, had filled her with dread. Of how she had wept for the lost companionship of old Cherub, for her teenage boyfriend drowned at Dunkirk, for the years spent in shackles nursing her tyrannical father, for the paintings she’d had to sell to keep going, and that she’d wondered what use she had ever been to anyone at all, and where was it all going to end?

Weeping was a new experience for her, for despite all the vicissitudes of her life, she’d never before weakened and found relief in crying. But the tears she’d shed today had swept away the debris of that past life and when finally she could cry no more, she’d dried her eyes and decided that old memories didn’t keep you warm, or put food on the table, or enrich your life, or provide companionship. Old memories were old memories and nothing more, and at this moment she’d had enough of them.

She’d recollected that an estate agent had pushed a leaflet through her door weeks before, saying that properties like hers were in great demand and why not take advantage of the boom in property prices in the area? Why not? Why shouldn’t she have a slice of the good life? Sell, buy a garden flat and provide a
real
home for new Cherub. For she deserved something better than this old, cold, comfortless house. She
would.
And for once in her life, she’d have spare money to spend on luxuries for herself and for new Cherub.

But she’d have to get rid of lots of things. There wouldn’t be room in a flat for all this big furniture, or for all the things she’d kept in case they might be useful some time. She could begin today and collecting Cherub would be the start of her new life. Consequently, she’d been delayed by making arrangements at the estate agent’s. But now she was here and she couldn’t wait to tell Cherub all about her plans.

Kate came through from the back with Cherub safely stowed in the old basket. Miss Chillingsworth poked a finger through the wire door. “Hello, Cherub dear. We’re going home. I’ve got some lovely chicken ready for your dinner tonight. Now, Kate, what do I owe?”

“We haven’t finished doing the bill yet. We’ll mail it.”

“I’ll give you a hundred pounds on account, shall I? I have it with me.”

Memories of the last one hundred pounds she’d left in her care made Kate blush. “No, thank you. You hang on to it until you get the bill, Miss Chillingsworth.” Kate diverted her from talking about money by remembering the tablets. “Now you see, we almost forgot the tablets. One each day. There’s sufficient until Sunday and she should be fine by then. Bring her back a week from today for her checkup. What she needs now is some loving care.”

“She’ll get that; don’t worry. Come along, then, Cherub, off we go home. Bye-bye, dear. See you next week, Kate. Take care, dear. Send me the bill as soon as you can.”

Kate watched her trot away, glad that her new cat had put the spring back in her step. Poor Miss Chillingsworth with nothing to look forward to but enjoying her new cat. She thought about growing old and having achieved nothing at all. That was definitely not going to happen to Kate Howard. Definitely not. Had Miss Chillingsworth known that the sight of her had strengthened Kate’s resolve to qualify and make a challenging life for herself, she would have been very gratified to have been proved to be of some use after all.

Kate went to fill the fire bucket because it was the first Monday of the month and Adolf was due. Though she hated dogs to fight, she had to confess to enjoying the thrill of Perkins and Adolf squaring up to each other. They truly meant nothing by it; it was simply something they both felt a need to do.

She placed the heavy bucket under the reception desk and checked through the small-animal appointments for the afternoon clinic at four. It was so quiet today for a Monday morning. Coffee. She’d make coffee for Lynne and Joy.

Joy liked it not too hot, two sugars and plenty of milk. Lynne liked it hot, no sugar with hot milk. As she waited for the milk to heat up in the microwave, she thought of Scott and how he’d grown to love her making his coffee for him. Black with two sugars. She remembered how he cupped his hands around the mug, not using the handle when he drank. She indulged herself by thinking about those long, strong fingers, the brown hair streaked with blond, the broad shoulders, the clean smell of him, and then she saw in her mind’s eye how he’d looked the day he’d fallen into Phil Parsons’s slurry pit and she laughed.

“What are you laughing at?”

It was Lynne.

“Life, I suppose.”

“Mm. Glad you find it a joke. I don’t.”

Kate turned to look at her. “Why?”

“Sick of everything. Time I moved on. Did something different.”

“Why don’t you, then?”

Lynne shrugged her shoulders. “Such as?”

“I don’t know. Whatever takes your fancy, I suppose.”

“You’re lucky.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you’ve got an aim in life. What will you do if you don’t get your chemistry, though?”

Kate groaned. “Don’t mention it. I honestly don’t know.”

“You will, you wait and see. You’ll make a good vet. It must be hard doing a day’s work and then studying.”

“It is, but I enjoy it.”

“Worth it?”

“Of course.”

“I might give it a go. Not veterinary but something else.”

“You should.”

“I might do that very thing. Why not?” Lynne went to sit outside on the bench by the back door and think about her options. Kate went back to the reception desk.

To stop herself from thinking about Scott, Kate worked all afternoon instead of taking her three hours off.

Joy put her head around the door halfway through the afternoon. “You really shouldn’t, you know, you should go out or go home or something.”

“I know.” She pondered whether or not to tell Joy her reasons. “Better keeping busy at the moment.”

“I see. He shouldn’t have done what he did.”

“He explained.”

“You’ve heard, then?”

“A letter from the airport.”

“I see. All part of life’s rich tapestry, if that’s any comfort.”

“It is. I suppose. A little.” Kate gave her a rueful smile.

“Brave heart, that’s what’s needed.”

Kate nodded.

I
T
must have been just after six when an enormous bouquet of flowers appeared to be making its own way into the reception area. Lynne said, “What on earth . . . ?”

Finally it emerged through the glass door with a pair of very long legs below it and made its way to the desk.

To Kate there was something very familiar about those legs.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

All the fear she’d felt when he’d threatened her that time and when he’d stalked her came rushing into her heart and she instinctively stepped back from the desk, unable to stop herself from trembling. She sensed beads of sweat between her shoulder blades and her scalp prickling.

The flowers were laid down in front of her and there was Adam.

“Kate!”

“Adam.”

They both stood staring down at the bouquet, not speaking.

Stephie, embarrassed by the silence between them, tried hard to fill it. “Aren’t they lovely! You are lucky! I love the roses.”

“Thank you.” Kate made herself look at Adam. Disappointed, she saw he was still the same Adam: his cheeks were as thin as always, his Adam’s apple as large, his skin as sallow, his hair as nondescript, his hands as large and bony as ever. What had she seen in him? Poor Adam.

Adam saw the lovely girl he’d loved. And lost. “I started my new job today; it’s just up my street. I’ve come straight from work to bring you these. To say . . .” He glanced at Stephie and disliked her avid interest. Leaning toward Kate, he whispered, “Is there anywhere we could talk, you know, all these clients listening.”

“I can’t ask you in the back; it’s not allowed. We’ll go outside. Won’t be a minute, Stephie.” She led the way out, hating herself for the fib she’d just told, but knowing she couldn’t bear to be shut in a small room with him. The beads of sweat turned cold and made her shudder.

“I’ve brought the flowers to say sorry.”

“Right.”

“I am, really sorry. I should never have done what I did. I was so desperate, you see. I didn’t mean to harm you. It was losing my job like I did. I couldn’t tell Mother. How could I? She’s always been so ambitious for me, driving me, you know. It was that Scott as well. He always got the better of me. Whatever I did, no matter how hard I tried.”

She opened her mouth to tell him Scott no longer posed a threat, but instinct told her not to and she closed it.

“I’m going home to tell Mother that I’ve got the chance to share a flat with two chaps from work.”

“Good.”

“I don’t know how she’ll take it, but I’m determined.”

“Good. I hope it works out OK.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “If I gave you a ring some time . . . bowling one Tuesday, perhaps . . . oh, no, not bowling, cinema, perhaps?”

“No. Best not.”

“I hoped . . .”

She got a sudden image of Adam as he hopped about clutching his bruised hand after he’d missed punching Scott the night they’d had the fight. “No, Adam, I’d rather not.”

Adam’s sloping shoulders slumped. “Good luck, then. We had some good times.”

“Good luck to you. Glad the job’s turning out well. Stand tall with your mother. Thank you very much for the flowers; they’re beautiful.”

As Kate closed the door behind her, a terrible sadness came over her and she wished she could like him. But she couldn’t. Not after Scott.

“I’ll put these in the fire bucket under here. Mr. F. mustn’t be coming.”

“No, don’t. Mr. Featherstonehough is coming. His camper thingy broke down this morning and he’s been waiting to get it mended, and he rang to say he’ll be in before we shut.”

But the waiting clients weren’t going to let her get away with it so easily and one of them called out, “My word, he must be keen!”

Another said, “I’ve gone wrong somewhere. No one’s ever come out of the gloaming and presented me with a bunch that size.”

“Nor me,” offered a client, hanging on for dear life to a particularly spiteful cat.

Stephie called out, “Nor me. Some people have all the luck without even trying.” She gave Kate a nudge and grinned, and Kate mouthed her thanks.

On impulse Kate said, “Dad and Mia are both out tonight, so I’m supposed to be getting my own meal when I get back. I don’t suppose you’d like the idea of window-shopping in the mall and a meal?”

Stephie nodded. “Thanks, I would. Bit short this month, though, so I can’t go anywhere smart.”

“So am I. We’ll go to the fish restaurant. You can get some quite cheap meals there and their chips are fantastic.”

“Right, you’re on. Let’s hope we don’t run late tonight, then.”

There was a kerfuffle at the door and in came Adolf, dragging Mr. Featherstonehough.

“Good evening, Mr. F.” Kate leaned over the desk to welcome Adolf. “Good evening, Adolf. Take a seat. Graham won’t be long; a client’s just gone in and then it’s your turn. You’ve got the car mended, then, at last.”

“I have. Three hundred and fifty-two pounds it’s cost me. It’s not worth it. If I sold it, I’d only get about five hundred for it. Good money after bad, but I can’t manage without it, so what’s the alternative?”

“Buy a new one.”

Mr. Featherstonehough’s bushy eyebrows shot up his forehead. “And pigs might fly. I’ve had that Dormobile twelve years. I can’t bear to part with it. I know all its little idiosyncrasies; take the clutch, for instance . . .” He leaned his elbow on the desk. “You just have to let it up until . . .” He let go of Adolf’s lead, dropping it on the floor and anchoring it with his foot while he demonstrated with his hands the delicate maneuver needed to let in his clutch.

Unbeknownst to him, though, Perkins had achieved his freedom and was silently racing down the stairs from the apartment to get at Adolf. Mungo was calling him, but Perkins had cast his normal obedience to the winds as he charged through to meet the challenge. Adolf seized his freedom with all four feet and met Perkins halfway down the corridor. There ensued a bitter, fearful fight, the worst they had ever had. The sight of their swirling bodies and the flashing of their fangs was terrible to see. It was impossible for Mungo, trapped on the far side of them, to interfere for fear of being bitten, so it was Kate who separated them with the well-aimed fire bucket full to the brim with water. Mungo, unprepared for this remedy, leaped back far too late and that, combined with the limited space in the corridor, meant that he as well as the dogs got drenched.