The Village Vet (3 page)

Katie touches my hand.

‘We’ll take one each,’ she says brightly. ‘That’s enough, boys.’

When Jack moves to thump Nathan for a second time, I block him, telling him he’ll have to hit me first, while Katie grabs Nathan’s arm and drags him aside.

‘You’ve broken my nose, you wa—’ Nathan yells.

‘It’s nothing less than you deserve, you two-timing bastard!’ Jack cuts in, touching the red mark that’s appearing on his chin. ‘I don’t understand what they all see in you – you have all the charisma of a dead sheep.’

‘Jack, will you please leave it,’ Katie snaps. ‘Leave it! None of this has anything to do with you. If you have any respect—’

A ray of light slants through a stained-glass window and onto the altar. I’m getting it now, but there has to have been a terrible misunderstanding. How can Nathan possibly be messing around with another woman when he’s here right now, about to marry me?

‘Jack, stop this,’ I beg. ‘Please don’t go on embarrassing yourself in front of everyone. You’ve made a mistake in coming here.’

‘Tess, it’s you who’s making a mistake, and it could be the biggest one of your life.’

‘How can you say that to me? I thought you were my friend.’

‘Somebody get him out of here,’ Katie says. ‘Get him booked into the funny farm asap. He needs to see a psychiatrist.’

‘I’m sorry, one and all, this is a most unusual interruption,’ says the vicar, making light of it in front of the congregation. ‘We’ll resume shortly. Come on,
Jack
, let’s have a chat about this man to man.’ He waves towards the organist. ‘Some uplifting music of your choice, please, Nobby – take it away.’

As the vicar and my dad escort Jack off to the vestry, and the church fills with the trembling chords of ‘Jerusalem’, my knees grow weak and I fall sobbing into Nathan’s one-armed embrace.

‘Mind the suit,’ he says, his words muffled by the handful of tissues he’s pressing to his bloodied nose. ‘We don’t want to ruin the photos, do we?’

‘You can have any blemishes airbrushed out,’ Katie interrupts. ‘I’m more worried about getting blood on the dress.’

I step aside, as my mum, dressed in an ice-blue suit and matching hat, joins us and gives me a hug. Usually, she’s like sunshine – warm, bright and cheering – but on this occasion her expression is downcast and her lips are pursed with concern.

‘What a to-do, darling,’ she says as the guests are singing about England’s dark, satanic mills.

‘Did you know he was back?’ I ask her, and when she nods sheepishly, I say, ‘When?’

‘I don’t know exactly.’ She shrugs. ‘He came round to the house last night, asking to see you.’

‘I was there,’ I say, annoyed that I missed my chance to head this situation off, not that I expected it in the slightest. ‘Why didn’t you let him in?’

‘It was very late, you were in the shower and the way he was, I thought it best that—’

‘Mum, you should have told me.’

‘And what good would that have done? You’re marrying Nathan, so there’s no point encouraging Jack in his hopeless pursuit. He’s always liked you, Tessa, and I was afraid something like this would happen,
that
he’d come rushing in, trying to spoil things for you.’ She lowers her voice, aware perhaps that everyone is listening. ‘What was that all about anyway? Has Jack gone completely mad?’

‘I don’t know,’ I wail. Nathan bought me a brand-new car only a few weeks ago – why would he go to all that expense if he has someone on the side? On the other hand, why would Jack make something like that up? Surely he can see that he’s hardly likely to endear himself to me by attacking Nathan.

‘Don’t worry about it, love. We’ll look back and laugh at this one day.’ Mum pats my shoulder. ‘I must get back to Great-Auntie Marion – she’s been on the brandy already.’ She hesitates. ‘Shall I ask her if—’

‘No thanks,’ I say hurriedly. I don’t need any more to drink; I need to keep a clear head. I pick up my bouquet from where Katie has left it on the steps up to the altar, and as my mum returns to the pews, Katie and Nathan move in to comfort me.

‘Jack’s jealous,’ Katie says as Nathan slips his arm around my back, resting his hand on the curve of my waist. ‘That’s why he’s doing this. It’s one last, desperate attempt to stop you and Nathan getting married.’

I shake my head. ‘It’s too way out, too extreme. Jack isn’t like that.’ He’s cool, level-headed and good in a crisis. He’s an animal protection officer and part-time retained firefighter. If he really knew Nathan was playing around, he would have come straight to tell me, not wait until the night before my wedding, or the wedding itself.

‘I’ve never liked him,’ Katie says, ‘and this only goes to show I was right to trust my instincts. I always thought he was a bit of a stalker.’ I feel my forehead
tighten
as she continues, ‘He was always following you about.’

‘I’ll get him for this,’ Nathan mumbles. ‘My nose – it won’t stop bleeding.’

‘Do you need more tissues?’ Katie fusses and frets. ‘Would you like me to call a doctor or an ambulance?’

‘That pathetic excuse of a bloke might need one when I get my hands on him,’ Nathan fumes.

‘Please calm down, darling,’ I say, but he doesn’t respond. He steps away from me, staring towards the vestry door, the muscle in his cheek tightening and relaxing with barely suppressed fury. Mike, the best man, moves around to stand between us and the vestry door.

‘He isn’t worth it, mate. He’s just some small-town nonentity. Tessa, make your groom see sense, will you?’ Mike grins. ‘Don’t hold back. Start as you mean to go on, because you’ll be nagging him to death once you get that ring on your finger.’

‘You have got it with you, haven’t you?’ Nathan says, his voice sounding stuffy and nasal.

Mike takes the tissues and puts an arm around Nathan’s shoulders. ‘Course I have. Calm down – it’s all going to be fine.’ He looks towards the vestry. ‘Here they come.’

The vicar and my father return. I don’t know where Jack is, where he will go, or whether he goes of his own accord or not, and I don’t care. All I want is to get on with the wedding before I change my mind.

‘Are you all right to continue?’ the vicar says kindly.

I pick at the petals of the roses in my bouquet: this year, next year, sometime, never.

‘Should we start again, right from the beginning?’ the vicar asks. ‘It’s your choice, Tessa.’

‘Let’s start where we broke off,’ I say, a little sharply. ‘I’m sorry. That didn’t come out as I intended.’

‘Don’t worry. You’ve had rather a shock.’

‘I know.’ If only the vicar knew that it isn’t the shock that’s bothering me; it’s the doubts, the ones I thought I’d buried, now resurfacing like the bubbles in a chocolate fountain. I recall the first time I met Nathan, the dark hair, the tan, the signet ring and black Audi. ‘I’m going to be the next Dragon in the Den,’ he bragged. ‘I’m on fire.’

‘Tessa, stop spoiling the bouquet,’ Katie says, relieving me of it for a second time. ‘I want there to be something left for me to catch later on.’ Her eyes shimmer with tears.

‘Oh, Katie, don’t be upset.’

‘I’m not,’ she gulps. ‘I’m happy for you. Hey, stop that crying.’

‘Am I doing the right thing?’ I blurt out.

‘It’s too late for that. Let’s go. Steve’ – she turns to my father – ‘come and give your daughter away. Nathan, you stand over there. Mike, check and recheck that you really have got the ring with you. We don’t want any more glitches.’

Eventually, I’m right beside Nathan, inwardly thanking my chief bridesmaid for her organisational skills, or should that be her natural bossiness? Nathan is no longer bleeding to death as he claimed, the sole evidence of Jack’s contact being a few flecks of dried blood on his upper lip. He keeps squeezing my hand and casting me glances, smirking each time, as if to say, I’ve got you now. My senses dull a little each time, the scent of fresh flowers becoming less distinct, the cross on the altar less bright, and the colours in the stained-glass windows less brilliant.

‘Nathaniel Roderick Cooper,’ says the vicar without emotion, ‘will you take Tessa Gemima Wilde to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?’

I hold my breath during the long pause. I am not sure I can endure the suspense.

‘As long as you both shall live,’ the vicar repeats to help Nathan out.

‘I do.’ Nathan’s voice is clear and cool.

It’s ‘I will’. You’re supposed to say ‘I will’, I think as I breathe out and in again, feeling as if I’m about to drown. This ceremony isn’t so much about marking the beginning of a new life, as the end.

Why am I getting married anyway? Aren’t Nathan and I perfectly happy as we are, cohabiting in unmarried bliss? Well, no actually. I raise my eyes towards the vaulted ceiling at the painted bosses and fans of stone. We’ve had some terrible rows, and there was that text, a draft that I found on his phone when I just happened to pick it up to hand it back to him the other day. He said it was a joke to wind up one of his mates.

I turn back to him again. Will he love me and comfort me? He’ll make love to me. There’s a difference, and it isn’t an entirely comforting thought. Will he honour and protect me? He protects me, making sure I’m never out after dark alone, but does that have more to do with possession and control than caring? What about being faithful to me for as long as we both shall live?

‘Tessa,’ the vicar says in a hushed whisper. ‘Would you like me to repeat that?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘Yes, please. I wasn’t concentrating.’

‘It isn’t the first time a bride has been overwhelmed with nerves at her wedding,’ the vicar goes on. He clears his throat. ‘Tessa Gemima Wilde, will you take Nathaniel Roderick Cooper to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?’

I stare hard into Nathan’s eyes, searching for an answer. He cannot hold my gaze, and my heart plummets, dragging all my hopes for the future with it. How can I spend the next ten, twenty, thirty years with this man, if I can’t trust him now?

‘Tessa?’ says the vicar. ‘Tessa, Nathan needs an answer …’

Chapter Two

The Princess and the Frog

IT’S NOW OR
never. I look straight ahead between the towering stone columns beyond the altar, aware of the cool stillness inside the church, and the expectant silence from the congregation.

‘I will not,’ I say weakly, my heart barely beating.

‘I beg your pardon,’ says the vicar.

‘I will not,’ I repeat. ‘I can’t go through with this.’ Plucking up all the courage I have left, I turn to face my groom. ‘Nathan, I can’t marry you.’

‘Tessa?’ His eyes grow dark and the blood drains from his face, giving him the look of a half-starved vampire, as the implications of what I’ve just said begin to sink in.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I go on, when his shock turns to devastation, and the church fills with exclamations of surprise and disbelief.

‘Tessa, love?’ I’m not sure whether Dad steps up beside me to comfort me or try to persuade me to change my mind, but I can’t take it any more, all this love and attention, all this pressure and the
overwhelming
wave of guilt that I feel when I comprehend the magnitude of Nathan’s grief. I’ve let him down. I’ve let everyone down, but it doesn’t alter a thing. I can’t change how I feel. I’m shattered.

With hot tears streaming down my face, I gather up my skirts, preparing to flee, but my wedding shoes with their elegant heels and slippery soles now plastered in mud were never designed for running, and I have to flick them off and pick them up before I can sprint down the aisle, covering the ground faster than Usain Bolt, as people press in on me from both sides, shouting ‘Stop her!’ and ‘Let her go!’ I keep running, stumbling into the porch where I bump into the chauffeur, who’s having a sneaky puff on a cigarette.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ I gasp, as he holds one hand out to steady me.

‘That was pretty quick – hey, where are you going?’

I don’t know and I don’t care. I shake him off and keep running on through the churchyard past the dark yew trees and graves and out through the gates onto the street, where I head down the hill until a paralysing attack of cramp forces me to stop with my back to the wall at the end of the iron railings. I take a few gulping breaths of oxygen, filling my aching lungs and clearing my head. What have I done?

‘Tessa! Wait for me.’ Nathan comes jogging up. Standing in front of me with his head tipped to one side, his face contorts like one of the gargoyles on the church. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘I’m sorry, Nathan,’ I keep repeating.

‘You’re crying.’ Nathan’s voice softens. ‘Oh, come here, my darling.’ He holds his arms out to hold me, but I shrink back until I’m squashed against the wall
and
he’s treading on the front of the dress. ‘You’re all hyped up and emoshe. Why don’t you take a few minutes then we’ll go back inside? The vicar says he’ll give us five.’ His tone grows whiny and wheedling. ‘All you have to do is say “I do”, and it’ll be over—’