Country Lovers (5 page)

“I'm not a poultry man and certainly not qualified to make decisions about such a large-scale operation as yours. You need an expert. But it's my opinion it could be Newcastle disease; it certainly can't be ruled out. However, you're probably more able to assess the problem than I am. You do realize it's a notifiable disease? If I'm proved right, it would mean every bird would have to be slaughtered in this shed and the other two. Are they following the same pattern?”

Dan thought the manager looked sly. “No, no, no. They're all right.”

“They soon won't be if you're not careful. When will these be ready for dispatching?”

“Another six days.”

“Exactly?”

The manager nodded. “It's all fine-tuned, this business. One day's feed too many and the profit margin starts on the slippery slope.” His right forefinger made a downward plunge. “So you can't help me?”

“I'm afraid not. Wish I could.” Dan dug in his pocket and brought out a card with names and telephone numbers on it written in his flamboyant handwriting. “This chap here, look, ask for him; I'll write the number down for you.”

“No need to bother; I have Mike Allport's number.”

“In that case, then why have you called us?”

The manager gave Dan an apologetic stare. “Didn't want to get officialdom involved if I could help it.”

“You must, absolutely must. I have to notify the authorities of my suspected diagnosis. I could be wrong, but I don't think I am. I'll call Mike Allport now. I can't leave until he's been to confirm.”

“There's no need.”

“There is. By tomorrow you could be in dead trouble. As chicken farms go, you're doing a damn good job here. Don't ruin it for yourself, nor for these poor birds. I have to act
today.
”

Dan went back into the second chicken shed for another look. He walked up and down the passageway examining the mechanical feeders, looking for any chickens beginning to droop and lose interest in life, but found none. “I'm ringing Mike Allport straight away.”

“Don't. Thanks all the same.”

Dan went to stand outside the shed to make his call. Bryan Buckland followed him. “I said, don't call him.”

“I am not willing to sacrifice my professional integrity for some scheme of yours to avoid an informed diagnosis. It's more than my job's worth.” Dan dialed the number.

Bryan Buckland made to snatch the phone from him, but Dan pushed him away.

“This is my livelihood. Don't do it to me.”

“I'm sorry…. Am I speaking to Mike Allport?”

Bryan Buckland strode away, bitter resignation in every step. Shoulders bowed, he headed for the office. Dan went to sit in his Land Rover to brood at the injustice of it all. But if he shut his eyes to it and took Bryan Buckland's attitude, his professional integrity would indeed be nil. He had to do it. Dan waited an hour and a half for the veterinary officer to arrive. An hour and a half he could have made good use of.

Those poor damn birds. Free to roam? It must be a nightmare living like that. Like being trapped in a concentration camp. Dan shuddered at the thought. But if they'd never known freedom in their short lives, and they'd always been well fed…He rang Bridge Farm, his next call, to let them know he would be much later than he'd thought.

As soon as the veterinary officer arrived, Dan leaped out and went to shake hands. “Dan Brown, Barleybridge Farm Veterinary Practice.”

“Graham Hookham. Newcastle disease you say?”

“I'm almost one hundred percent sure. Check for yourself. Second shed. He's kept the dead ones for you to see.”

Dan stood aside and watched Buckland and Hookham greet each other. He felt there was a camaraderie between the two, which didn't sit well with someone who had impartial decisions to make. He could be wrong, though.

When the two of them came outside again, Graham Hookham was shaking his head. “I'm not convinced. In fact, I'm sure it isn't.”

“Are you certain?”

“I have probably got more experience than you with poultry, and I'm telling you it isn't Newcastle disease.”

“I see. And that's your considered opinion, is it?”

Graham nodded and stepped back a little, suddenly aware Dan was someone to be reckoned with. “Yes. It is.”

“Well, I'm certain I'm right. What are you going to say if next week they're dying like flies?”

“They won't be. Forty-two today is a fluke.”

“What is it then?”

“Just one of the hazards of having so many birds together.”

“If I'm proved to be right…”

Graham smiled.

Dan grew angry. “What about spreading the disease? You go onto dozens of farms; you could spread it. Have you no conscience, man?”

“I've told you it isn't what you think.”

“On your head be it.”

Dan turned on his heel and went to leave. Before he did so, he poured some powerful disinfectant into his Wellington boot bowl and washed down his boots and his car tires. He made a rather ostentatious performance of it for Graham's benefit and left for Bridge Farm.

On his way he tried to remember if they kept poultry. He had a suspicion they did, and so instead of driving into the farmyard, which he normally would have done, he left his Land Rover out in the lane as a precaution. He put on his disinfected boots and walked into the yard where there was some furious clucking and squawking going on from some Welsummer chickens. Fine, upstanding pedigree birds they were, and Dan was glad he'd taken precautions.

By two o'clock he was back at the practice ready for lunch. The staff had known right from the day Dan began working there that, for some reason, he and Rhodri Hughes didn't hit it off. Nothing specific, but there was always that sense of touchiness between them and for why, no one could make out. They were both first-rate vets, versatile, agreeable, pleasant with clients, skillful, but somehow they…and this lunchtime was no exception.

“Hey boyo! That's my mug.”

Dan examined the mug he was drinking from. “I thought this was mine.”

“Yours is like that, but the printing's red on yours. That's green so it's mine.”

“Does it matter? Here, you have this—I've only taken a sip.” He handed the mug across the table.

Rhodri shook his head. “No, thanks, not when you've been drinking from it. But remember in future.”

Dan looked up at Rhodri, his face humorless. “Trouble is with bachelors, they get set in their ways.”

Rhodri's swarthy skin flushed and he remained silent. Dan wasn't to know that last night he'd proposed another wedding date to Megan and been refused. To save himself from being taunted, Rhodri walked out of the staff room, taking his lunch with him and leaving Dan to eat alone.

He decided to eat his lunch outside on the old bench by the back door. Damn that blasted man. Why did he let him get under his skin? Why couldn't he just ignore him? Rhodri sank his teeth into a smoked salmon sandwich Kate had been out to buy for him, and brooded on his bachelor state, beginning by damning the domineering old man who'd kept such a tight rein on his unmarried daughter and ruined her life. Twice they'd named the day and twice her father had had a bad asthmatic attack, been rushed to hospital, and hovered at death's door for days. Rhodri had convinced himself that the old man brought on the attacks himself. Could you do that with asthma? In his mind he trawled through friends and relatives for a doctor in the know, but realized he knew none.

Rhodri had suggested that they marry secretly and tell her father afterward, when the deed was done, but Megan, being a straightforward, honest character, refused. She wanted her father to give her away. When she'd said this, Rhodri had replied, “But that's archaic. You've been your own person for years; you don't need anyone to give you away.” But Megan had stuck to her guns. “I want him to do just that, please; I know it's only right. I'm sorry.”

Maybe she didn't want to marry him. Could it be her way of escaping life's challenges? Rhodri kicked some loose gravel away from under his feet, opened the plastic casing of his slice of apple pie and began to eat it, but couldn't taste it. He looked up at the hills beyond the practice car park and deep in his heart longed for the bleakness of the Welsh mountains. It was all too mild hereabouts, even the air he breathed wasn't bracing enough, nor the landscape, nor the people.

The back door opened and out came Kate. “Your extraction's arrived, Rhodri. Sorry.”

“OK. Just finishing my coffee. Ask Sarah One to get him ready.” Teeth extraction. Diseased teeth—all because the owner didn't take enough care. Six out. No wonder the poor dog's breath smelled. He crumpled up the sandwich wrapping, placed it neatly in the plastic casing that had held his apple pie, gulped down the last drop of coffee, examined his mug and questioned why he had made such a fuss of Dan's using it. He'd have to apologize; no, he damn well wouldn't. He wouldn't give it another thought. Instead, he'd think about Megan and going out with her for a meal tonight.

Six extractions, four spays, and a castration later, Rhodri left for home. He'd take Harry Ferret out for a walk first, then have his shower, then call early for Megan.

The moment he heard Rhodri's voice, Harry unrolled himself from a deep sleep, and came to the front of his cage, stretching luxuriously. “Oh yes! Here I am slaving away earning money to support you and what are you doing? Sleeping the day away. What a life! Time you went out to work and earned your keep.” Harry appreciated the nuzzling he got from Rhodri when he lifted him out of his cage. He slipped inside Rhodri's jacket and snuggled down while his red harness was found and the front doormat was checked for mail. Then, holding the lead, Rhodri set off for a walk, out of the garden down the footpath that ran alongside their fence and out into the field behind the house.

Harry scurried along, keeping pace. No time for dawdling until Rhodri had worked the tensions of the day from his stocky frame and was able to wander carefree. Well, almost carefree, apart from the long, nagging loneliness of not being able to be with Megan all the time. Rhodri shaded his eyes and watched a kestrel hovering, but it didn't dive and he lost interest. He'd known for certain that Megan was his kind of person when she'd taken so readily to Harry. Seemed a daft criterion for a life partner, but it mattered and she knew it did. She also loved Welsh male voice choirs and adored hearing his wonderful tenor voice singing the old Welsh songs. Megan swore he could have been a soloist on the concert stage had he not wanted to be a vet. He'd give her six more months and then…and then? What? Her dad couldn't be left to live on his own. Megan wouldn't do that, anyway. No, whichever way he looked at it, he'd have to live with them on the farm, but the thought of eating every meal with the old man made his spirits drop even lower.

Without warning, a huge cloud covered the sun and a chill wind began to blow. Rhodri decided to head for home. Lengthening his stride, Rhodri turned back, still with no solution to his love life. He just wished Dan had no reason to say that he was set in his bachelor ways. Dan had everything Rhodri wanted: a home with a beautiful wife in it and a newborn son.

Chapter
• 4 •

R
ose took Jonathan to see everyone at the practice when he was just two weeks old. She went in during their lunch hour and immediately found herself surrounded by admiring faces.

“Why, he's beautiful, Rose, absolutely beautiful. Can I hold him?” This was Joy, eager to join Jonathan's admiration society. “Well, there's no doubting who his father is. He's just like Dan, isn't he? So like him it's almost comical.”

“I guess he is. There's no mistaking, is there? Danny's as proud as punch.”

“Of course he is. He's a changed man since you came back, you know.”

“Is he?”

“Oh yes. He was very difficult to get on with, but he's soft as butter now.”

Everyone wanted a turn at holding the baby, including Letty, Colin's wife, who had come in especially to see him. “Here, give him to me.” She sat herself down on Joy's chair and held out her arms. Joy handed him over and Letty rather awkwardly took him from her. “Am I getting it right?”

Rose laughed. “Yes, of course you are. Actually, you're not looking quite well, Letty.”

“No, just some bug I've picked up.”

“Are you actually sick?”

“Not really, no. You're very lucky. Maybe I'd better give him back to you or I'll be tempted to take him home.”

Before they knew it, Sarah One and Sarah Two with Bunty came in to join Jonathan's admiration society, followed by Stephie and Kate.

“He's gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.” Kate gave Jonathan her finger to clutch, and he did with a surprising strength. “He's so strong and he's got his father's looks.”

Rose had to laugh. “Everyone says that. I feel quite jealous.”

“Don't worry. Have a girl next and she'll be like you.” This from Letty, who was still captivated by him.

“Have a heart, Letty.”

“No, it's best. Close together and then they all grow up at the same time. No good having too big an age gap.”

Stephie muttered to Kate, “Little she knows about it; anyone would think she'd had a whole tribe of children.”

“Shh! She'll hear you.”

“Can't quite see Colin…” Stephie nudged Kate and winked. “You know.”

“Are you going to have some more children?” Letty asked Rose.

“Hopefully, but not for a while.”

“You should. People like you should have babies.” Without warning, Letty burst into tears and left Joy's office.

She left behind an embarrassed silence. To fill it, Rose said, “I'll just go show him to the clients.”

“You do that.” Joy stood to one side to let Rose out. “They'll love him—they've been asking when they'd see him. Back to work all of you. I'll just go find Letty; see she's all right.”

Joy found Letty sitting in her car, crying as if her heart were breaking. She opened the driver's door and said, “Letty! Please don't cry.”

But Letty couldn't stop.

She fumbled in her handbag for a tissue and dabbed her cheeks, but still the tears rolled down. “It's this blessed sickness; I never feel quite right. What a fool you must think me.”

“Not at all. Babies get you like that. Well, they get me like that.” She went around to the front passenger door, opened it, and got in beside Letty. “Shall I get Colin?”

“No, no. He has enough on. I'm just being a fool.”

“No, you're not. It just goes to demonstrate that you're human. Come back in; have a cup of tea or something.”

Letty stopped crying and turned her blotchy wet face to Joy. “No, I won't. I don't want to see the baby again.” She stared straight ahead and after a moment commented, “I've not been very kind, have I? In the past?”

“Well…”

“No, be honest. No beating about the bush.”

“It's not for me to say.”

“Please, Joy, be honest with me, even if it's going to hurt. We've known each other long enough for you to be totally frank.”

Joy was completely thrown by this touchy-feely Letty. It was a Letty she had never known. “If you want the truth, I'll give it to you, but it won't be nice. So I've warned you, right?” She thought for a moment. “You've been a miserable, unkind, edgy, frosty, nit-picking person and very difficult to like. Thought yourself right about everything, you know, and you weren't always. And as for the way you've treated Colin in the past! Though you have changed for the better of late, I must admit.”

Letty flinched as though she'd been hit. “I see.” She stared through the windscreen. “I see. Not just Colin though. What about Dan?”

“Especially about Dan. He's a thoroughly decent chap, you know. He speaks his mind, I'll give you that. But…he is rock-strong, fair-minded, and straightforward, and he's done this practice a lot of good, hasn't he? And I've grown to like him.” Joy half turned to smile at Letty. But Letty ignored her. Instead she started up the car and put it into gear. “Hold on, Letty, let me get out.” Joy struggled to open the door and Letty reached across to open it for her. Joy got out, but before she closed the door, she said, “Letty! I don't like the idea of your driving when you're like this. Come in, just to talk, eh?”

Letty shrugged her shoulders and the car began to move, so Joy had no alternative but to shut the door and let her drive away. She watched Letty disappear into the main road, thinking that she hadn't seen her so emotional since she'd known her. Actually asking for people's impressions of her! Unheard of. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so blunt. All that emotion right there at the surface. There was something definitely wrong with Letty.

As Joy passed the accounts office, Kate called out, “Oh, there you are. We've been looking for you. Rose is just going.”

“Oh, right.”

Rose asked Joy if she'd done something wrong. “Did I say something I shouldn't? It's not like Letty, is it? Is she still here?”

“She's gone. For some reason she's very upset, and she won't tell me what it is. So don't worry. I'm going to catch up with Colin and have a quiet word. Lovely to see you, Rose; pop in any time. You'll be most welcome.”

“Should I go see her? Would she mind? Apologize or something?”

“Well, I expect she'd prefer to be alone right now because she asked me what people thought about her, and I told her. I wish I hadn't, but she insisted.” Not for the world would she tell Rose it was the baby who had upset Letty.

“Perhaps I'll send her a card. Yes, I'll send her a card.” At this point Jonathan began to cry, a pitiful, heartfelt cry that couldn't be ignored. “That's his I-am-hungry cry, so I'd better go.” Rose left in a flurry of good-byes and good wishes.

Joy saw her to the car. “You've got a lovely baby there, Rose; you must be very happy.”

“Oh, we are, Danny and I, very happy.”

“I'm glad, so glad. Be seeing you.”

After Rose left, Joy rang Colin and told him of the afternoon's episode and how worried she was. Colin didn't reply for a moment and then said, “I'm worried too. She's not a bit like herself. I've only one more call; I'll go straight home from there.”

“Good, she might need a large dose of TLC.”

“Of what?”

“TLC. Tender Loving Care.”

“Ah! Right. I'll see she gets it.”

So Joy went home that afternoon feeling uneasy about Letty. Duncan had started another contract, and with his being withdrawn, his mind on solving his computer problems, she guessed
she
wouldn't be on the receiving end of some TLC. In fact, she'd be lucky to get a word from him all evening.

But the moment she opened the front door she could smell…what was it? Beef casserole? Chicken? So she was to get some loving care after all.

She found him in the kitchen putting a dessert in the fridge. “Duncan! How wonderful you've started the meal. What's in the oven?”

“That rooster who kept waking you up and driving you mad.”

“Not the Duke of Wellington?”

Duncan laughed. “The very same. The dish is called Joy's Revenge.”

Joy put down her bag on the table and pulled out a chair. “I don't know if I can eat him. I got very fond of him lately.”

“Well, you'd better; there's nothing else. We need to stock up.” Duncan kissed her and asked, “How's it been?”

“Rose brought the baby in. He is gorgeous—very fair skin like Rose, but dark haired and so like Dan it's laughable. And Rose, of course, as slender as ever, looking perfectly lovely. I do envy her. She's one of those people who, if you called at the house on the off chance, and she was wearing torn jeans and an old sweater and her hair was all over the place and she was painting the ceiling, would still look beautiful. It simply isn't fair.” She smiled ruefully at Duncan.

“You look beautiful always. No matter what you wear. You never give yourself enough credit.” Duncan had his back to her, so she couldn't see if he was sincere or simply teasing.

“Duncan?”

Duncan turned to face her. “I've put a bottle of your favorite wine in the fridge, so all we need to do now is sit down with a drink and wait. I've done the dessert too.”

“Duncan?”

But he'd gone into the sitting room and was at the drinks cupboard getting her a vodka and tonic.

“Duncan? Look at me.”

When Joy saw his face, she almost choked. He was looking at her as though he couldn't get enough of her, as though his immense love for her was almost too much for him to bear. His eyes were shining with love for her, for
her.

“Darling! Oh, darling! I'm never fair to you, am I? I don't know why you keep on loving me as you do.” She held her arms wide, but he shook his head. “Please.”

“No. Mungo's still there between us. You will not let him go, will you?”

“I do try, but then it all comes back again as bad as ever.”

“I could kill him, if I didn't like him as much as I do.”

“Duncan. Don't.”

“Both of us, with unrequited love. Ironic, isn't it? You know at bottom that he'll never leave Miriam. Doesn't that hurt?”

“He doesn't know how I feel. I never give him a clue. Never.” There was something in Duncan's face she couldn't interpret. “Why are you looking at me like that? What are you thinking?”

“He knows, my love, and has for a while.”

Joy shot to her feet, horrified by the thought. “I've never told him how I feel. It must be Miriam who told him. I can't believe it of her.”

It was Duncan's turn to be shocked. “
Miriam
knows?”

Joy sat down again, her legs having gone weak with shock. “She's known right from the first day she met me. She told me the other week.”

Duncan stared at her, trying to take in what she'd said, then he threw his whisky down his throat and poured himself another before he answered her. “Well, it wasn't Miriam who told her husband you loved him.”

“No one else knows.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Did they all know then? Joy felt…Well, she didn't know what she felt…Did they all whisper behind her back? She'd never noticed if they did. Never. If Miriam didn't tell Mungo, who did? An awful suspicion dawned on her.

Ice cold with anger, Joy looked Duncan full in the face. “Was it you?”

Despite her anger, she noticed Duncan didn't even have the grace to look ashamed. “Yes.”

“Yes? How could you? How could you?” This time she leaped to her feet and faced him, her fists hammering on his chest to emphasize her anger. “How could you? My deepest secret and you've told him. Why? Why?”

Duncan gripped her wrists tightly and forced them away from him. “Can you believe I'm capable of jealousy? Me? Laid-back Duncan? Self-absorbed Duncan? That Duncan who lets his life slide by year after year, patiently waiting? Doing his computer programs, salting money away for that wonderful day when his
wife
finally gets around to loving him, and they can travel the world on a gargantuan honeymoon? Imagine that! Funny, isn't it?” He released his grip, drank his whisky and walked away from her into the kitchen.

But Joy couldn't let what he'd said go without knowing exactly how long Mungo had known. She followed Duncan into the kitchen and asked him point-blank. “When did you tell him?”

He was lifting Joy's Revenge from the oven. When he'd placed the dish on the worktop, he said, “That night they came for a drink, and we'd just got Tiger and she paddled in her water bowl. Don't ask me why I did, but the demon jealousy was sitting on my shoulder that night, and that good-looking-I-own-the-world sod walked in and I couldn't resist. It gets to sound more like a Whitehall farce every day. You didn't know he knew, I didn't know Miriam knew, but you knew she knew because she told you, but you didn't tell me she knew. He didn't know you loved him; he told me never ever to tell Miriam you loved him. Now I've found out she's always known, so I needn't have bothered to keep my lip buttoned.” Duncan spooned the sauce over the chicken, tasted it, and added another spoonful of wine. “Ten minutes more and Joy's Revenge will be ready.”

Unexpectedly the thought exploded in her head that the whole situation really had become a farce, as Duncan had said. Joy felt ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. She had become a laughing stock, particularly if everyone at the practice had guessed how she felt about Mungo. She only had to think his name and the feelings she had for him surfaced, but had they become like beloved old shoes that fit beautifully, comfortingly, but now it was time to trash them? Well, she'd brace herself to eat Joy's Revenge and then see how she felt on a full stomach. Good food always helped to gear up her thought processes, and that night was no exception.

But the happy atmosphere usually engendered by fine wine and good food didn't happen. Duncan rapidly became morose and abrupt. No amount of telling him the news of the day from the practice could cheer him.