old-fashioned veterinary practice.
‘But you’re happy you came back?’
‘Well I haven’t really thought about it,’ he paused, ‘but yes, yes it’s a nice place and who needs time off work anyway when you can be dragged out of bed at 4 a.m. and stick your arm up a cow’s rear?’
She was laughing again. He didn’t know why, but he seemed to be trying to amuse her. And he seemed to be rambling on, it was far too easy to talk to her. Any second now and he’d be spilling all his sordid secrets.
‘True, and in Australia you’d miss the mud and frosty mornings.’
‘Would I?’ Langtry Meadows was perfect in many ways though, well one big way. It was miles from his old stomping ground and the practice he’d run with his ex-wife. Miles from any reminders that the cosy life he’d thought they’d built up had existed only in his imagination. Even miles from his suffocatingly concerned family who’d moved from the village to somewhere ‘more convenient’ when his father retired. ‘What about you?’ He needed to head the conversation in another direction. ‘Are you looking forward to working here?’
‘Oh yes, well I think so. I mean it wasn’t what I’d planned on doing, but everybody seems lovely, and it’s such a gorgeous place. To be honest, I didn’t really have any option.’ She hesitated. ‘Look, sorry for pestering about the school visit thing last time we met.’ She looked apologetic now, rather than demanding. ‘I didn’t mean to be pushy, I just had Jim prodding me in the back. It’s the first thing they’ve asked me to do, and I don’t like to fail.’
There was a question in her voice. ‘Look, I’m sorry too if we got off on the wrong foot.’ He couldn’t help but glance down at the pink wellies again. ‘But it’s really not something I can help with.’
She was looking at him, like a spaniel deprived of its ball. Can’t or won’t, said the look – she was too kind to voice it. He was doing his best to avoid eye contact, but still felt a heel. He couldn’t though, just the thought of standing in front of those hopeful, innocent faces made him come over hot, then cold. He wasn’t the only loser in this mess he’d made of his life, and that was the bit that made him feel totally useless. Helpless.
Her gaze hadn’t wavered. ‘It’s just I’ve got my hands full with the surgery.’ To her it was just a simple request. But it was asking him to expose his heart, to lay himself open to yet more hurt and he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t do it yet – and certainly not in front of the watching eyes of the whole village. Teenagers he could have coped with, the WI, the teachers. Just not a class full of primary school kids, expectant smiling faces. Kids that were at that age when they trusted adults, thought they could solve every problem in the world. He closed his eyes for a second, and the image that snuck its way into every dream, every nightmare, was there. A giggling little girl. Auburn curls soft as clouds around her angelic face. Large brown eyes gazing straight into his. Innocent, unknowing. Trusting.
He couldn’t do it.
‘They don’t bite. Not like some of your patients.’ Her lips curved into a seductive smile, but he was pretty sure she was just trying to lighten the mood, not drag him off to bed – that was wishful thinking on his side.
‘No.’ He swallowed down the clawing pain in his throat and hoped to God he looked more normal than he felt. ‘It’s just,’ what was he supposed to say? ‘This place can feel a bit claustrophobic.’
‘Villages can.’ Those two words had an unexpected depth to them, she said that as though she knew.
‘Everybody in each other’s pockets and I would rather like to keep a professional distance.’ And that was the truth, up to a point.
She nodded, looking thoughtful, then sighed. ‘Yes, I can understand that.’ And there was something in her eyes that convinced him she did. She was a bit of an outsider as well, and he had a feeling that despite all the smiles she wasn’t entirely comfortable about being here. ‘It’s okay, don’t worry I’ll think of something.’ She twisted her lips to one side as though she was thinking. ‘But Jim swore blind that asking any other vet was out of bounds.’
‘It is a bit of a no-no going to the other practice, you know what village politics can be like.’ Now she was making it even more difficult. Understanding made him feel tetchy, and for some reason he couldn’t quite fathom he felt almost like he was letting her down. Christ, he had enough problems with all the other people he felt he’d let down – and now he was doing it with a complete stranger. ‘I’m sure you’ll come up with something. I’m not here for long anyway, as soon as Eric is back on his feet I’ll be off.’ He couldn’t do it, better to make that quite clear. ‘I’m sorry, I really am.’
‘No problem.’ Her tone was light, but he still felt bad.
‘It’s just…’ He hesitated, not quite wanting to leave it like that. But any discussions about how he should be involved in the village school were off the agenda. Some things he could do – being surrounded by young children he couldn’t. Not yet. The health of the village pets was his responsibility, the kids weren’t.
She was looking at him quizzically, as though she was expecting him to say more. Offer an explanation, at least finish his bloody sentence, which was perfectly reasonable. But this was why he shouldn’t have come back here. Why he should have buggered off to Australia. He wouldn’t have these bloody problems then, he didn’t need to feel irrational guilt on top of everything else. And he couldn’t explain.
The silence lengthened between them and he felt awkward.
This was getting ridiculous. He was looking ridiculous.
He was just trying to come up with something to say when she smiled, stood up. ‘I better get back to moving boxes. Thanks for the coffee and chat, lovely to meet you properly.’
‘You too.’ And he was surprised just how much he meant it.
As she left the surgery, his positive mood seemed to go with her. Talking about his return to Langtry Meadows reminded him just why he’d had to move on. Rolling his shoulders, he tried to ease the tension that had instantly grabbed hold of his body.
He wandered into the recovery room, determined to shake his mood. Being busy always helped. Stroking the little black cat that was stretched out on its side in one of the cages, he instantly felt his blood pressure drop as the faintest of purrs rumbled through its chest. Charlie smiled as it raised its head slightly, asking for more.
He loved these quiet times, with a patient that had turned the corner. This was the good bit; this was what the job was all about. It didn’t matter where in the world he was, animals were animals and moments like this made all the long hours and difficult decisions worthwhile.
‘Ready to face the wrath of the Langtry Meadows women are you, Charlie?’
Charlie gave the cat one last rub behind the ear then glanced up at Sally, his receptionist, animal nurse and general answer to all his prayers.
Two months earlier he’d arrived at the Langtry Meadows Veterinary Centre expecting to be faced with the same officious, bossy receptionist he vaguely remembered from his childhood when he’d sneaked into the surgery to see the animals, borrow his dad’s bag of tricks and pretend to be a vet – although that was pretty silly as she’d been considerably older than his father. He’d still been pleasantly surprised to meet the ever-friendly, and amazingly helpful Sally.
Her mid-length brown hair hung in straight, glossy sheets either side of her solemn face which lit up when she smiled, her large brown eyes as steady as a Labrador’s and the frown lines on her forehead evident whenever she was concentrating. Within a few days Charlie had fallen in love with her, in a totally un-romantic way. She was efficient, kind and knew everybody in the village – which smoothed the path and allowed him to concentrate on the animals. Which was just how he liked it. Perfect.
Eric had played a masterstroke the day he had persuaded Sally to join the small veterinary practice, and Charlie hoped he realised