The Village Vet (2 page)

‘I’m kind of nervous and excited at the same time. I’ll be fine when it’s all over.’ I correct myself quickly. ‘I mean, when today’s over.’

‘You only get married once. Well, that’s what your mum and I did.’

‘Did you ever have any doubts?’ I ask him.

‘About whether I was doing the right thing?’ He shakes his head. ‘None whatsoever, because I knew from the day I met her, just as you did with Nathan,
that
she was the one I was going to spend the rest of my life with, through thick and thin …’ He pauses to pat his paunch, before continuing, ‘Through fat and even fatter.’

I smile at him fondly. He would be more comfortable in drag. He was an actor, more often than not a pantomime dame, before the regional theatres closed through lack of funding. Now, in retirement, he writes stage plays and runs Talyton St George’s Amateur Dramatic Group.

Comforted by my dad’s ability to make a joke out of everything and by his conviction, as always, that everything will turn out right in the end, I turn my attention to getting myself and the dress out of the Rolls at the church, ably assisted by Katie, my chief bridesmaid and best girlfriend, along with two of Nathan’s much younger nieces.

‘Hi, Tessa.’ Katie is about five foot five, the same height as me. She has green eyes and strawberry-blonde hair, and she looks utterly stunning in a pale pink, figure-hugging silk dress with buttons down the back. She kisses my cheek. ‘Where have you been?’

Taking a deep breath of fresh Devon air that’s laced with the scent of manure, I start to tell her about the dog.

‘Tessa, I know you’re mad about animals, but this isn’t the time for a shaggy dog story, so to speak,’ she interrupts. ‘Apart from the mud on your shoes, you look fabulous, the perfect blushing bride.’

‘I do feel a bit flushed,’ I say. ‘Have you got any concealer handy?’

‘Trust me. You don’t need touching up.’ Katie moves closer and adds in a whisper, ‘You have Nathan to do that later. That man is so hench.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Hench – enormously fit in this context. Keep up.’ She gives me a gentle shove. ‘You lucky thing. I’m so envious. You must be soooo excited.’

I touch my chest as we make our way up the path between the gravestones and memorials dedicated to the residents of Talyton St George who have gone before, feeling my heart racing beneath my fingers. The erratic rhythm has more to do with an imminent panic attack than excitement, however.

‘Are you ready, Tessa?’ Dad cuts in, offering me his arm.

I nod and hang on to him for dear life as we enter the church and begin the long walk up the aisle to the strains of the Wedding March, the music slurred and discordant, as though Nobby Warwick, the organist, has been down at the Dog and Duck to lubricate his pipes beforehand, something else I hadn’t anticipated.

Dad walks stiffly past friends and family, and complete strangers from Nathan’s side, in his morning suit and bow tie, the buttons of his coat looking as if they are about to pop and a red rash on his neck where he’s been fiddling with his collar out of nerves. In fact, by the time we reach the end of the aisle where Nathan and his best man are waiting with the vicar, my father is clinging on to
my
arm, a tear glistening on his cheek. I stop and wipe it away with trembling fingertips, a small gesture that makes me smile because it reminds me of how I used to paint his beauty spot in the very same place before every performance during the panto season.

Reluctantly, Dad releases me and Katie takes the bouquet, stepping back as Nathan approaches.

‘Tessa, darling, you’re late.’ Gazing at me with his
cool
grey eyes, he takes my hand and plants a single damp kiss on my lips. ‘But you’re worth waiting for. You look beautiful.’

‘So do you,’ I say gently. He appears pale underneath the deep tan he’s been working on in preparation for the honeymoon, as if he hasn’t eaten or slept for a week, yet Katie is right. Compact and muscular from regular, almost obsessive sessions in the gym, Nathan is enormously fit in more ways than one. Any woman would be proud to be marrying him.

‘I can’t believe how many people have turned up especially for us,’ I say, looking around at the congregation, and spotting Nathan’s parents who have travelled all the way from Spain and my great-aunt Marion who’s made it here from her farm in North Wales in spite of being partway through a course of hospital treatment.

‘It’s going to be a great party,’ Nathan says. ‘I wonder if your maiden aunt will make it through the night, or whether she’ll succumb from the excitement of it all.’

‘Nathan, will you stop it?’ I say, pretending to be appalled, but I know he’s joking – my great-aunt might not be in the best of health, but there’s a long way to go until I receive my inheritance, if she should choose to leave part or all of her estate to me. I don’t care what she does with it because I’ve already inherited something from her that’s far more valuable than money, her love of animals. ‘Can’t you be serious for once?’

‘I’ll try.’ He pauses and my heart is melting as he continues, ‘Today, I’ll do anything you ask. This is your day and I want to make it special for you.’

I know he doesn’t like me saying it, but it seems
right
, considering we’re about to commit to spending the rest of our lives together. The words come tumbling out of my mouth. ‘Nathan, I love you …’ And it’s here that he is supposed to echo the sentiment, because he has steadfastly refused to discuss it before, but all he can do is stare at the floor, shifting from one foot to the other in his squeaky new wedding shoes. ‘Nathan, tell me you love me,’ I whisper urgently. ‘I need to know. I need to be sure.’

He looks up, raising one eyebrow. ‘Of course I do, and you shouldn’t have to ask that. It’s a given.’

So he isn’t going to say it even now, at our wedding, I think as the organ stops, makes a single parping note and falls silent.

‘Thank God for that.’ Nathan rolls his eyes heavenwards. ‘That was a bloody painful rendition.’

‘Nathan.’ I give him a look. ‘No swearing in church.’

He smiles and I smile back, reassured in part that I’m doing the right thing. ‘Tessa, are you ready?’ the vicar asks from beside me.

‘I’m ready,’ I say aloud, although when I gaze at the altar in front of me I can’t help thinking of sacrificial lambs.

Having introduced the wedding service, the vicar, a friend of the family, guides the congregation through a prayer and hymn with a deafening accompaniment from the organist. I sing along to ‘Lord of All Hopefulness’, but Nathan doesn’t. He fidgets through the whole four verses, sometimes smiling, sometimes rolling his eyes, mocking the vicar, who is singing his heart out. His ability to have fun is one of the many things I love about Nathan, but I wish he wouldn’t do it at other people’s expense – and at our wedding.

We haven’t been together for long, and sometimes
I
feel as if I’ve known him for ever, other times that I don’t know him at all. Introduced by mutual friends six months ago, we met in a local pub, hitting it off immediately. He proposed on a romantic mini-break in Paris a few weeks later and I accepted. Nathan, who is the third serious boyfriend I’ve had – third time lucky, maybe – is different. I was born and grew up in this quiet country town and have never lived anywhere else but Devon, while Nathan has moved around, travelled widely and set up a successful business, importing and selling anything he believes will make him a profit and take him to his first million.

When we’re together, he makes me feel special, although we aren’t together anywhere nearly enough for me. There were a few awkward days at the beginning of our relationship when we were scratchy with each other because I thought he should be spending more time with me, while he thought I should understand that he was a busy man. I learned to let go while he carried on, on condition that he texted me regularly. It’s a girl thing and I am a girl, I pointed out, at which he took me in his arms and said he could confirm that fact completely, and did, several times over.

At the beginning Nathan only had eyes for me, but I do wonder about him now. Am I mistaken or do his eyes keep drifting towards Katie’s curvy rear? I expressed a preference for a less revealing version of the dress that she chose, but I gave in with good grace, wanting her to be happy, and she certainly seems happy, her gaze latching on to Nathan’s now and again as if they are sharing a private joke. I’ve always wanted them to get along, but not quite as well as they do, I
muse
as the last notes of the hymn fade out and the vicar begins with the declaration. He looks from me to Nathan and back, smiling.

‘First, I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry to declare it now.’

There is an interval in which I can hear my heartbeat leaping about, which is ridiculous, because there is absolutely no reason why Nathan and I may not lawfully marry, but before the vicar can continue smoothly on to the vows, there’s a shout of ‘Wait!’ from the back of the church. ‘Stop the wedding!’

At first, I don’t understand what’s happening.

‘Jack! No, Jack!’ There’s a chorus of voices and a scuffle just inside the church door, followed by the sound of footsteps running along the aisle towards us.

I swing round, tottering on my heels, to find a tall, angry blond guy in tan chinos and a navy polo-shirt shaking off two of the ushers – one of my cousins and Nathan’s brother – as he approaches.

‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t Jack Miller, your hanger-on,’ Nathan says to me. ‘I don’t understand. You said he wasn’t coming.’

‘That’s right,’ I say, frowning. I did send Jack an invitation in recognition of the fact that he’s been a friend of mine since I can remember, and with Nathan’s assent and on the understanding that there was no way Jack would ever accept due to the disagreement he and Nathan had at the pub not long after Nathan and I first met.

There are occasions when honesty isn’t the best policy and I wish I’d never mentioned to Nathan that Jack and I had had a teenage romance – an intense and all-consuming love affair that lasted until Jack went off
to
college – because it gave Nathan a good reason to dislike him. Unfortunately, the feeling turned out to be mutual and when Nathan made some jokey put-down about my muffin top, albeit a small one, Jack took it to heart on my behalf. Embarrassed by the way the two men were arguing in front of everyone, I asked Jack to leave, which he did, but not before telling me to think very carefully about what I was doing, a warning he repeated when I contacted him to let him know that Nathan and I were engaged to be married, not wanting Jack to hear it from anyone else first.

Why did I do that, you might well ask – because I suspected that he might still harbour feelings for me and I wanted to soften the blow, or to prove to myself that I had finally moved on, or both?

The next thing I knew was that Jack had gone away, not just out of town, but out of the country, to Asia, where he’s been working with moon bears for the past four months.

‘Hey, just a minute.’ My dad tries to intercept Jack, but Jack pushes him aside with a thrust of one of his broad shoulders and confronts Nathan, who shrinks and steps back until he’s almost swallowed up by the flower arrangement to the right of the altar. As the vase holding the flowers rocks ominously, the colour drains from Nathan’s face and one of the little bridesmaids bursts into tears, I step in, pushing my way between the two men.

‘Jack, what do you think you’re doing?’ My voice quavers with anger and confusion. ‘This is my day and you’re ruining it. You’re wrecking everything!’ I continue as the vase falls crashing to the floor, fragments scattering across the medieval mosaic tiles, and the congregation gasps as one.

‘It’s my right,’ Jack growls back. ‘Tess, let me speak with you,’ he adds, the expression in his brown eyes growing soft and beseeching. ‘Two minutes in private. That’s all I’m asking for.’

There’s a pause and the congregation falls silent once more. I notice how rough Jack looks with his face unshaven, hair unkempt, and dark shadows under his eyes. Slimmer than when I last saw him, and sporting a deep tan and sun-kissed highlights, he looks decidedly well travelled. I bite my lip, tasting blood. There was a time when I would have given him a hug to welcome him home: at this minute, I could kill him.

‘Please …’ His gruff tone reveals a raw emotion that twists through my heart like a knife, for Jack has always been the strong, silent type, unable or unwilling to lay his soul bare, and for the briefest moment I’m torn, but this is my wedding and Nathan is right beside me – apparently drawing his own conclusions about the situation, because I can sense his rising fury in the deep flush that floods his face and the tightening of his fists. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you,’ Jack goes on.

‘Not now, Jack,’ I say quietly, as Katie moves up to stand at my shoulder.

‘Ask him.’ Jack’s eyes flash with anger as he nods towards Nathan. ‘Ask him about the bit about forsaking all others.’

‘I believe you’ll find that that comes later,’ says the vicar, trying and failing to defuse the situation.

‘You’re just fucking jealous, mate.’ Nathan ducks forwards and aims a punch that glances across Jack’s chin, making a hollow knocking sound. Jack lets fly with a right hook, catching Nathan on the nose, at which he creases up, clutching his face. Blood drips
through
his fingers onto the broken china at our feet.