The Village Vet (30 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The Morning After the Night Before

I WAKE WITH
a jolt, lying under the duvet with Jack’s arms around me, the morning light painfully bright and memories of the night before burning into my consciousness. Oh-mi-god, this is so bad – I gaze at Jack’s beautiful face, at the golden stubble that adorns his cheeks and chin, at the curve of his lips as he sleeps – and yet it’s so good.

I pinch myself because I can’t believe it. I don’t do this kind of thing, fall into bed with a guy on the first date. I correct myself. It wasn’t even a date … I know how I should feel about waking up with Jack, but it’s too late to be overwhelmed by a wave of virtue, and I salve my conscience, assuming that it won’t be long before I can safely say that Jack and I are an item, that we are boyfriend and girlfriend, and then it won’t matter.

As I lie there, revelling in the contact of his body against mine, I become aware of the sound of a vehicle turning into the car park.

‘Jack.’ I shake him by the shoulder. ‘Someone’s here.’

He mumbles an incoherent response, and I try again. ‘Jack, we have to get you out of here.’

‘Why, Tess? What for?’ He props himself up on his elbow and frowns. ‘Are you ashamed of me?’

I’m ashamed of myself, but I don’t tell him that.

‘I’d rather people didn’t find out that you stayed the night. Not yet.’

‘I don’t understand.’ He reaches over and plants a kiss on my lips. ‘I thought you liked me. Tess, I’m very fond of you, and I don’t care who in the world knows it, but if it makes you happy, I’ll get up and make out I’ve just arrived … Or,’ he adds with a wicked smile, ‘we could pretend we aren’t here, and make love all over again.’

It’s too late for that. There’s a knocking at the door that sets the dogs off barking, and a call of ‘Yoo hoo, it’s me, Tessa’ through the letterbox.

Groaning, I rest my hand across my forehead. ‘It’s my aunt.’ The thought of having to explain to Fifi is too much. I get out of bed, throw on a dressing gown and open the window wide. ‘You go that way,’ I whisper. ‘I’ll keep Fifi occupied for a couple of minutes – I’ll tell her you turned up early to check on the deer.’ I smile at his look of consternation. ‘Go on.’ I take as long as I reasonably can to walk along the hall to the front door, so Jack has time to retrieve his clothes.

‘You took your time,’ Fifi says sternly.

‘I was in bed – I overslept,’ I explain as my aunt, dressed in a red and white spotty summer dress and white shoes with red bows, hands me a hessian bag of provisions – bread, cheese and milk – keeping her eyes fixed on a point beyond my left ear, as if she’s expecting to see someone appear behind me.

‘I see Jack’s here early.’

‘Uh-huh?’ I’m not sure how to respond.

‘The van’s around the corner.’

‘Oh yes, that’s right. He texted me to say he was coming in to check on the deer, the one that fled into the ironmonger’s yesterday.’

‘Everyone’s talking about the Talyton stag,’ Fifi says. ‘His presence at the Sanctuary could be quite an asset. Ally Jackson can run his story in the
Chronicle
– there’ll be plenty of visitors who will want to see him.’

‘He’s a wild animal,’ I say. ‘We can’t have people looking in over the stable door.’

‘We could set up a webcam,’ Fifi says.

‘I thought’ – actually, I haven’t been thinking about stags at all, but the idea has just popped into my head – ‘that we might raise some money by having people pay a pound each to vote on a name for the deer. We could choose the best name and give a prize of chocolate, a certificate and a photo.

‘That’s a lovely idea.’

‘Why don’t you come inside?’ I say quickly, catching sight of Jack, who is skirting the edge of the car park towards the barn, his boots in one hand and socks in the other.

‘Is there something wrong?’ Fifi asks, her voice laced with suspicion. ‘You aren’t sickening for this summer flu that’s doing the rounds? You’re looking rather flushed.’

‘Am I?’ I touch my cheek.

‘Your nerves appear to be playing up.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with my nerves, I can assure you,’ I say, trying not to giggle as Jack gives me a wave before disappearing around the corner. ‘Come on in. I’ll get the kettle on, get changed and make some breakfast for everyone.’

‘Would you like me to feed the babies first?’ Fifi asks. ‘That’s what I’m here for.’

‘We’ll do them together later. We can talk about the final arrangements for the ball,’ I say. (Diane didn’t object when I told her that my aunt was going to continue to help me organise the ball, even though she was no longer chair. I think it suits Diane, who isn’t keen to put herself out.) I check the time. It’s eight o’clock and the birds usually have their first batch of mealworms or cat food at eight-thirty, or thereabouts.

I leave Fifi making tea in the kitchen while I throw on some jeans and a T-shirt, and run my fingers through my hair, thinking ruefully that I will have to do, and rushing back when I hear my aunt chatting to Jack.

‘I’m afraid the choice of breakfast is fresh bread or more toast.’ I say, handing Jack a mug of tea and hoping Fifi didn’t spot my slip of the tongue. ‘How is the patient?’

‘Didn’t you get my text?’ Jack responds.

I check my mobile that I must have left on the kitchen worktop last night. I flick it on and check the message:
Dinner 2nite? Pick u up at 7
XXJ

‘The deer’s looking good,’ Jack goes on. ‘I left him nibbling at some hay. When did Justin say he’d be out to change the dressing?’

‘In three or four days. After that, I should be able to do it myself.’

I tell Fifi about the extent of the deer’s injuries and the damage to the shed over breakfast, which we eat in the living room with Buster and Tia sitting gazing at us, drooling at the sight and sweet scent of singed toast and jam. As we sit there, I notice a blackbird sitting on the lower branch of one of the apple trees, hopping back
and
forth and chirping, teasing one of the feral cats. The cat prowls around in circles with his eyes fixed on the bird, which stays tantalisingly out of reach. I am about to ask Jack about setting the traps again to see if we can catch any more when his mobile rings.

I notice how he frowns when he reads the number on the screen. He stands and holds up his hand to me. ‘I’ve got to go. Thanks for breakfast.’

I follow him down the hall, everything that I wish to say to him stifled by my aunt’s presence in the kitchen. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Yeah. Cheers, Tess,’ he says, before opening the front door and making a swift exit across the car park, driving past shortly afterwards in the van without a wave or an acknowledgement that I am there.

‘He’s in a hurry.’ I jump at the sound of my aunt’s voice right beside me. She must have crept up without me noticing.

‘Oh, Fifi, you made me jump.’ I stroke my throat, touching the track of Jack’s kisses from the night before.

‘That’s because you’re clearly preoccupied by something else, or someone else not so far away from here. Did Jack say where he was going?’

I shake my head.

‘I expect he’s been called out for a fire,’ my aunt continues.

‘I didn’t hear his pager.’

‘Well, he’s always in demand. I don’t know how he does it.’ Fifi pauses. ‘Shall we go and feed those babies?’

‘Yes, let’s,’ I agree, but nothing can take my mind off Jack. We woke up together and ate breakfast – okay, with my aunt as well – normal, everyday activities that
a
couple would do, but are we a couple, or are we better described as friends with benefits? I hope that in a few days’ time we’ll be able to consider ourselves as the former, and I can tell the world, my friends and family that I have a new boyfriend. I imagine the smile on my dad’s face when I drop the fact that I’m Jack’s girl into the conversation.

I text Jack when I’m out walking Buster in the copse:
Can’t wait 2 c u l8r xT
. I debate long and hard about how many kisses to add, deciding one is appropriate. I don’t think Jack will be easily frightened off, but I’ve had enough experience of men for that possibility to cross my mind, so I’m decidedly worried when I start getting ready for our date and he calls to say he can’t make it.

‘I’m really sorry, Tess, but something’s come up. I hope you’re not too disappointed.’

That would be an understatement. I’m gutted.

‘Another time,’ he says.

‘Another time,’ I echo. ‘Make it soon.’ I try not to sound desperate. ‘You could call in later, if you like. I’ll be here.’

‘Not tonight. Look, I’ll see you at the Sanctuary soon.’

What he says is perfectly reasonable. I’m afraid it’s what he doesn’t say that tells the story. He doesn’t promise to make it up to me another time. I wipe the eyeliner from my eyes and wash my face before curling up with Buster and Tia on the sofa, stroking Buster’s belly with one hand and caressing Tia’s ears with the other. I tell myself that Jack isn’t like Nathan and there’s no way he would have cancelled our date without a very good reason, whatever it is. If only men were like dogs, the world would be a better place.

I don’t see Jack for another couple of days. I text him because I can’t resist, using the excuse of updating him on the deer’s state of health, but he doesn’t reply.

‘I expect his mobile network’s down,’ Libby says when I mention it to her one morning while we’re delivering hay and breakfast to the deer, before going to clean the kennels. Libby is protective of her brother, giving me vague answers as to his whereabouts.

‘You aren’t concentrating,’ I tell her when she’s trying to put on a disposable apron with one hand while texting with the other. ‘I take it the course of true love is running smooth – you keep wandering around with a silly grin on your face.’ I fill a bucket with hot suds in the kitchen sink. Libby grabs a pair of yellow rubber gloves and pirouettes around the room on tiptoes, her feet squelching in her wellington boots.

‘Tessa, Ash has asked me to the ball. I’m soooo excited. I can’t wait.’

‘I’m pleased,’ I say, smiling. ‘I’m waiting for your brother to invite me.’

‘Jack?’ Libby says, frowning as she grabs a scrubbing brush.

‘Oops. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything,’ I go on, but I don’t mean it. I’ve been desperate to share my secret with someone who can keep it, at least until Jack and I decide to come out as a couple, so to speak. I trust Libby. She’s become a good friend, more so recently than Katie, I think with a twinge of guilt. Although we’re still in touch, there seems to have been a barrier between us since Nathan and the wedding.

I follow her into the first kennel with the bucket and a mop. Libby starts scrubbing the walls, writing the letters A-S-H across the surface in soapy water before wiping them out.

‘Jack obviously hasn’t …’ My voice trails off before I pluck up the courage to start again. ‘Jack and I have kind of got it together at last.’ I go all Facebook on her. ‘I don’t think I’m jumping the gun when I say that we’re in a relationship. Are you sure he hasn’t said anything to you?’

‘Tessa, Jack might be my brother, but he doesn’t tell me everything that’s going on his life.’

I dip the mop into the bucket, wring it out and make a start on the floor.

‘I reckon I’m going to have to take the initiative. At least, being the organiser, I can keep a couple of tickets back if he leaves it to the last minute,’ I say, thinking aloud.

Libby pauses scrubbing.

‘Um, I think I’d wait for him to ask you. It’s kind of traditional, isn’t it, for the boy to ask the girl?’ she goes on brightly.

‘I didn’t think you would be such a stickler for tradition,’ I say, surprised by her attitude. ‘Libby, you’re really quite old-fashioned.’

‘Well, it’s a convention that’s worked well for years.’ She dips the brush back into the bucket.

‘Perhaps you’d like to give your brother a nudge in the right direction for me and explain this protocol he has to follow.’

‘Since when has Jack taken any notice of me?’ she says, returning to scrubbing the wall with a vengeance. ‘Have you had any votes for names for the deer yet?’

‘There are some.’ Ally Jackson put the competition into the
Chronicle
yesterday. ‘I’ve had four suggestions by email and our recent visitors have filled in the slips and put them in the box in reception. Three people have gone for the same name. Can you guess what it is?’