The Village Vet (40 page)

‘I haven’t had that many exes,’ Jack says, defending himself. He wipes his palms on his trousers. ‘If you ever change your mind, I’ll be ready and waiting.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ I say, forcing brightness. ‘You won’t hang around for ever.’

‘I’ve told you, I’m not going anywhere.’

Whereas I might be, I think to myself. Jack’s declaration, the size of my debts and my near brush with death have made me realise I should move on. If I stay here, I’ll end up mired in insurmountable financial commitments with Jack as a constant reminder of what could have been. Life really is too short. If I’m going to regain my independence and set myself up with a house and a pension, I have to do it now, not leave it until it’s too late. It’s time I took steps to escape, to get out of Talyton St George altogether and start anew.

Jack remains in the armchair, head bowed and shoulders hunched, and I’m torn between asking him to leave, and telling him to come over and hold me, and never let me go.

‘Do you remember when you said at the Fun Day that you don’t choose a cat, a cat chooses you?’ he says. ‘Buster must have picked up some feline traits, because it seems he’s chosen you. He isn’t going anywhere, is he?’

‘You’re right,’ I say, relieved that we’re on to another subject. Where Buster’s concerned, I’m going to listen to my heart not my head this time. ‘He’s staying with me and Tia. I can’t risk putting him through the trauma of another failed adoption. It wouldn’t be fair on
anyone
.’ I know I said I wouldn’t take any animals on, but if I’m moving anyway, I won’t be tempted again, unless I come across the odd stray with a good sob story when I’m back in practice.

‘Buster’s one very lucky chap, curled up with you like that,’ Jack says, his face etched with regret. ‘Remember what I said. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.’

‘Jack,’ I say gently, because I can see he’s genuinely upset that I will never agree to get back with him, in spite of the fact that I’m aching to fall into his arms and forget everything for tonight at least. ‘Can we talk about something else now?’

‘Such as?’ he says.

‘How we’re going to go about releasing Bambi if and when he gets the all-clear? The committee’s latest plans for the Sanctuary? They’ve suggested creating a dedicated room for the baby birds that will inevitably arrive next spring.’ I smile, and Jack gives me a small smile back as I go on, ‘Where would you like to start?’

It takes a while for the conversation to flow, but it does, and Jack and I talk until dawn – as friends, and only as friends.

Chapter Eighteen

King of the Forest

A WEEK LATER
, my mind is unchanged, although I’m pretty certain Jack has been doing his utmost to challenge my decision, spending many hours of his spare time at the Sanctuary, repairing the fire damage in the kitchen in the kennel block and repainting, generally putting himself in my way. He buys presents for Buster and Tia, metal tags with my name and mobile number on them to go on their collars now I’ve adopted them officially.

I send off several job applications and wait for responses, but my concerns regarding my debts are solved by a visit from my dad, who turns up one evening with a bottle of bubbly to celebrate my change in fortune, created not by the fairy godmother but by the kindness of Great-Auntie Marion. She has left me a significant amount of money in her will, enough to pay off my current obligations with a little left over.

I have good friends, I have Buster and Tia with me, Frank Maddocks has been charged with attempted theft and assault, and Justin has confirmed that Bambi
is
almost ready for release. On balance, all is well, apart from the uncertainty between me and Jack.

We choose to release Bambi on a misty morning in early October when the weather is forecast to remain calm for a few days. The injury to his leg has healed, and although he’s left with a significant scar, the vets have passed him fit for release. He can feed, move around normally and is in good condition; and, just as importantly, he’s still wary of humans and domestic pets like Buster and Tia. We talked about carrying out a soft release, letting him out from the Sanctuary so he could take his time to leave us, perhaps moving into the copse and establishing his position with the deer already there, but in the end decided on a hard release in a quiet area of woodland on the Fox-Giffords’ estate.

With Libby’s help, Jack and I have managed to secure Bambi in the padded deer crate in the back of Jack’s Land Rover, ready to go.

‘Jump in, Libby,’ Jack says, climbing in the driver’s side.

‘I’m not coming,’ she says.

‘But you said you were. You made such a fuss.’

‘I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll be too upset,’ she says, ‘and anyway, three’s a crowd.’ She glances up at her brother with a smile playing on her lips. ‘You and Tessa rescued him, so you should be the ones to let him go.’

‘No, you must come along too,’ I say quickly. There was a time not so long ago when all I wanted was the opportunity to be alone with Jack. Now I’m not sure that I trust myself with him. There’s so much I want to say to him that is better unsaid, and besides, Libby shouldn’t be left here at the Sanctuary on her own. She scared me when she had that fit, and I can understand why Jack feels so torn between letting her have her
independence
and wanting to watch over her.

‘Libby?’ Jack says.

‘Don’t worry. Diane and Wendy will be here in ten minutes or so. I’m going to get Apache to practise being led around the copse. He needs a proper education so he doesn’t end up like his mum.’

‘You’re going to be one of those crazy horse owners,’ Jack says with a mock sigh, ‘unable to hold a conversation about anything apart from the price of hay and horseshoes.’

‘I can’t wait,’ Libby says, grinning. Since the arrest of Mr Maddocks and his son, she’s been in negotiation to buy Dolly and her foal, and next spring she’s planning to move them to Farley’s End, where Ash’s mum rents a field for her elderly pony. Eventually, she’s going to break Apache to drive.

‘I expect Ash will drop in with the post too,’ I say, realising why she is so keen to stay.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Libby confirms, blushing a furious pink. ‘Go on, and don’t hurry back.’

‘Come on, Tess,’ Jack says, making his mind up. ‘Let’s go.’

I jump in, dressed in new boots and a waxed coat that I bought in Overdown Farmers.

‘I’ve brought along some emergency rations – I’m not sure how long this will take,’ he says, nodding towards the flask and bar of chocolate that lie on the seat between us as he turns the key in the ignition.

Travelling the short distance to the release site, I can smell Jack’s scent of fresh aftershave and clean washing. Sick with longing and annoyed with myself for not being able to get over him, I gaze at Jack as he keeps his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road, driving past the entrance to the Manor where we released the ducklings a few weeks ago, on the Fox-
Giffords
’ pond, and continuing on up the hill with green fields on either side.

‘This is it,’ Jack says, turning left past the next hedge-line where the bushes are laced with silvery spiders’ webs, and drawing to a stop in front of a log that has been left across the entrance to the wood beyond, where the trees are swathed in their fiery autumnal colours of red, gold and bronze. ‘We’ll have to shift it between us. Do you mind?’

I try to open the door, but it’s stuck. I give it a shove and it still won’t budge.

‘Well, this is embarrassing,’ I begin as Jack leans across me to pull on the handle, his arm brushing against me, the contact making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my heart beat faster, as I recall his touch that night when we made love. For the briefest moment, he freezes as if the memories have come flooding back for him too, but the click of the door, like a hypnotist’s fingers, snaps us back to the present.

‘There you go,’ says Jack. ‘Simples.’

‘When you know how,’ I say dryly.

‘There’s a knack to it,’ he says, holding the door open for me so I can jump out and move round to meet him over the log, where the air smells of bruised grass, wet rot and leaf mould. It’s sodden and studded with orange and grey fungi, and it’s soon clear that we can’t shift it between us. Jack reverses – with my assistance, of course – turns the Land Rover around so it’s facing the other way, and ties a rope between the tow-bar and the single branch that remains attached to the log, before dragging it aside into the undergrowth so we can pass, driving on through between the trees until the track we’re on divides into three.

Jack stops and frowns.

‘Do you know where you’re going?’ I ask.

‘According to the map, there should be a clearing up here somewhere.’

‘I thought you’d been up here before to choose the release site.’

‘I have. It’s just that now … Unfortunately, one tree looks very much like another.’ Jack drums his fingers on the wheel, and drops of rain begin to patter onto the windscreen. ‘This isn’t looking too promising.’

‘We can’t release Bambi in this weather, can we?’

‘Let’s give it half an hour or so to see if it stops. It’ll give us time to find the release site.’ Jack reaches across the back of the seat, his hand close to my shoulder as he turns to look through the canvas window at the rear of the vehicle to reverse, the wheels spinning in the mud then finding purchase, the Land Rover shooting back at speed.

‘Be careful,’ I say, ‘the poor deer.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Jack says. ‘I think it’s this way.’ He takes the narrower turning to the right that leads us to a small clearing where the grass is lush and long, parking under the trees at the edge. The rain turns into a downpour and it’s looking increasingly unlikely that we’ll release Bambi today.

‘Should we go home?’ I ask.

‘Let’s give it another ten minutes – as long as you don’t mind waiting here with me …’ Jack’s voice trails off and I don’t know what to say. Mind? In spite of everything, the wedding and the way he behaved over Karen, I love spending time with him, just the two of us – the deer shifts in the crate in the back – and Bambi. ‘I don’t want to go back to the Sanctuary,’ Jack goes on, his voice rough like gravel. ‘I like it here.’ He glances across at me. ‘Coffee?’

‘Please,’ I say as he picks up the flask and pours me a coffee into the cup.

‘How do you take it?’

‘Don’t you remember?’ I say, disappointed that he’s forgotten when I thought we knew each other so well.

‘I’m teasing you, Tess. White, no sugar. You see, I do know.’ He pauses. ‘Would you like a biscuit with that?’

‘No, thanks. I’m not hungry.’ My lack of appetite has more to do with the man sitting alongside me than the fact I had three Weetabix for breakfast.

‘It’s our lucky day,’ Jack says eventually as the rain stops, the sun comes out and the clouds part above the trees to reveal blue sky. ‘What do you think?’

‘Let’s go for it,’ I say, keen to get out of the Land Rover to put some distance between us so I can make sense of the turmoil of emotion triggered by Jack’s proximity, as well as release Bambi from the confines of the crate as soon as possible. Jack gets out and comes striding around to the passenger side to open the door for me. I stumble as I jump to the ground, literally falling into his arms. He steadies me, holding me by the shoulders, and the world stands still. When I dare to look up, his eyes are fixed on mine.

‘Thanks,’ I say, pushing him away, unable to bear the intensity of the contact any longer. I turn my attention to the clearing itself. I can picture Snow White lying in her glass coffin in the centre, the poisoned apple with the bite taken out of it alongside her. I poisoned myself for anyone else after Jack. I wish it had never happened, yet I’m also glad that it did. ‘Let’s not keep Bambi waiting any longer.’

Together, we haul the crate out of the back and lower it to the ground. We make a good team, I think, watching the taut sinews in Jack’s arms and the
strength
in his shoulders that could sweep a princess off her feet and onto a shining steed, as he takes most of the weight. My gaze transfers to the muscular tension in his thighs, imagining them wrapped around the aforesaid steed and then around the princess as he takes her into the forest to have his wicked way with her. Oh, how I wish I believed in fairy tales.

‘There we go. Are you ready?’ Jack asks me. ‘You can do the honours.’

‘We should do it together,’ I say, taking his hand and placing it on the catch on the front of the crate, leaving my fingers on top, sensing the warmth of his skin. We unlatch it and slide the door open before retreating, hand in hand, to the other side of the clearing to give Bambi some space. I stand next to Jack, watching the crate, yet aware of the man beside me, the rate and depth of his breathing and the tension in his body, matched by my own, confirming what I already know: that I still fancy him like mad.

I force myself to concentrate on the crate.

Bambi’s shiny black nose appears, followed by his eyes and ears. Suddenly, he dashes forwards, scrambling out of the crate and regaining his composure once his feet touch the grass. He trots away towards the bracken, floating across the clearing on his impossibly slender limbs, his head held high and his ears flicking back and forth with uncertainty.