Vets in Love

by Cathy Woodman

  ‘Come on, Sage. Make me a cup of tea and I’ll tell you all about how I fell off Dark Star.’ I throw myself down on the sofa in my filthy jodhpurs. On the outside, I’m calm, normal Nicci, as I am when there’s a crisis at work. On the inside, I’m in turmoil as I regale Sage with my horsey tale, embellishing it with gory details before wondering if I’ve gone too far. ‘I hope I haven’t put you off.’

  ‘Oh no,’ she says.

  ‘Sage, can you think about having a bath or shower before we eat, please,’ Cheska says, interrupting. ‘Dinner’s in the oven.’

  ‘Mummy, do I have to?’ she moans.

  ‘Yes, you do. Give Gabriel a hand to tidy up the toys in the bedroom too.’ She waits, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded until Sage leaves the room, when she takes her place on the sofa.

  ‘Have you been doing something you shouldn’t?’ she asks. ‘I thought you weren’t allowed to ride for another week.’

  ‘What’s a week?’ I shrug. ‘What difference will seven days make?’

  ‘How do I know? I’m not a doctor,’ Cheska says dryly as I bury my face in my hands.

  ‘I’ve been so bloody stupid.’

  ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that, you being the perfect sister. Come on.’ She puts her arm around me. ‘Matt will come round.’

  ‘I don’t think he will,’ I sob. Not this time. Not when I’ve kept on at him about how much I value honesty and trust … ‘I lied to him. I promised I wouldn’t ride again until I got the all-clear.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Cheska says. ‘He’s over-reacting.’

  ‘He can just about deal with me riding when I’m fit, the schooling and hacking side of it, but he hates me competing.’

  ‘It’s ridiculous, though, when he works with horses and his clients ride.’

  ‘He has good reason,’ I say. ‘He lost someone important to him, a girl he was at vet school with. She came off her horse when she was eventing. The horse hit a fence, took a rotational fall – that’s how he described it – she took the weight of the horse full on …’ My voice trails off.

  ‘Poor Matt. Was he in love with her?’

  ‘He loved her but she didn’t feel the same way about him.’

  ‘And he loves you?’

  I nod.

  ‘And you love him, so you mustn’t let something like this come between you.’ Cheska smiles. ‘Like me and Alan, you two need your heads knocking together.’

  ‘What’s this about Alan? You haven’t mentioned him for ages.’

  ‘I’ve been texting him.’

  ‘You aren’t planning to go back?’

  ‘We’re settled here now. I’m really grateful that you sat me down for that talk. You were right about my state of mind, Nicci. I’ve registered with Dr Mackie, who’s prescribed some medication and organised some support for me, and Sage is happy at school. I’m not going to uproot the children again, but Alan might come and visit us sometime.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ I make to stand up, but Cheska pulls me back down.

  ‘Don’t go after him now. Leave it until tomorrow when you’ve both had time to calm down.’

  ‘Since when have you become an agony aunt?’

  ‘I didn’t know I had it in me. Perhaps I can make a career out of it.’ She pats my knee, reminding me of our mother. ‘Come on. Cheer up.’

  ‘I need to grab my bag out of the car,’ I say, remembering I’ve left it there. When I leave the house, I notice a pot of sprinkles on the doorstep with a note scribbled on a Post-it advertising horse worming products. I read it through a sudden blur of tears.

  ‘To Sage and Gabriel. I’m sorry I had to rush off. Hope these will do. Matt.’

  I pop it indoors before returning for my bag, when I notice Matt’s car is still parked down the road in exactly the same place. Has he been waiting for me all this time? My heart lifts slightly. Does he want to talk? Is he prepared to forgive me? It was only a minor fall after all, nothing serious.

  In spite of the driving rain and the dark, and the sense of foreboding I always feel in the presence of the shadowy headstones lurking behind the railings of the churchyard, I jog along to Matt’s car and bang on the window. He looks up, his face pale beneath the light from the streetlamp.

  ‘Open up,’ I mouth and he opens the passenger door. I go around the other side and clamber in. We both sit facing the windscreen watching the rain pour down the glass. ‘Thanks for the sprinkles,’ I say eventually.

  ‘I promised the kids—’ He breaks off and runs his fingers roughly through his hair. ‘I’m sorry, Nicci. You were right about all that honesty stuff being important. It’s essential.’ He grips the steering wheel and turns to face me. ‘I don’t feel I can trust you any more.’

  ‘Only about the riding,’ I say.

  ‘It’s the thin end of the wedge,’ he cuts in.

  ‘Can’t you see, I wouldn’t have felt I had to keep it quiet if you hadn’t gone on about it? I knew you’d be upset and angry with me if you found out, and if I’d told you beforehand that I was going to ride Dark Star you would have tried to persuade me not to.’

  ‘And quite right too as it turns out. You weren’t ready to get back into the saddle.’

  ‘I was in the school with Shane. It was a soft landing. For goodness sake, Matt, I wasn’t at full gallop out on a cross-country course.’

  ‘Why can’t you see it from my perspective? You’re so consumed with the idea of getting Willow to Badminton you can’t see the dangers.’ He pauses. ‘You’re like a horse in blinkers.’

  ‘This girl,’ I begin. ‘The vet student … it’s eight or nine years since it happened?’ I’m hazarding a guess.

  He nods.

  ‘So why do you still let it get to you?’

  Matt leans closer to me and rests one hand lightly on my shoulder.

  ‘She was like you, Nicci. Clever, fun to be with and a talented horsewoman. And I was in love with her, as I am completely in love with you. Can’t you see? Each and every time you set out on a cross-country round, I’m tortured by the thought you might not come back.’ He bites his lip to control his voice before continuing, ‘I know it sounds over the top and you’ll probably suggest I get some counselling, but I really can’t stand it. The thought of losing you in such a way is too much to bear.’

  A single bell tolls – the bell-ringers are practising for a funeral.

  ‘I can’t take the risk of losing someone again. I’m sorry, Nic—’ he chokes. ‘It’s over.’ He almost pushes me out of the car. ‘Goodbye.’

  I stand in the cold and wet, watching him drive away and I feel as if he’s ripped my heart out and taken it with him. The rain seeps through my clothes. I don’t care. I close my eyes and open my arms to its icy assault, but within seconds I hear the clunk of a window-catch and Frances’s voice.

  ‘Nicci, get yourself indoors and into a hot bath this minute, or you’ll catch your death and they’ll be tolling the bells for you. I’m bringing round the bath salts.’

  What can I say? I want to die. Matt has dumped me and I think it might well be final.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Star Quality

  WHEN I ARRIVE at the yard on my way to work, Delphi has left Willow tied to the ring outside her stable while she’s mucking out. When Willow sees me parking the car she pricks her ears, and as I approach she whickers to greet me. I give her a mint from my pocket, offering it to her in the palm of my outstretched hand, and she takes it very gently, her breath warm against my skin and her whiskers tickling.

  ‘How is she, Delphi?’

  ‘She’s well. But it was so cold I had to put an extra layer on her overnight – it might be worth investing in a new fleece. We’ve just had a batch of new arrivals in the shop. There’s a mint-green combo that would suit her down to the ground.’

  ‘Are you spending my money again?’ I grumble lightly. ‘I can’t afford to keep buying presents for you, Willow, when all you do is stand around.’


  She nudges me with her muzzle, asking for another mint.

  ‘You spoil her,’ Delphi says.

  ‘I know, but she’s worth it.’ I rub Willow’s ears before moving on to give Dark Star a mint too because he’s looking out of his stable at me with his ears pricked. ‘I’ll drop into the shop later. I’m in the mood for a bit of retail therapy, but in the meantime, I’ve got to get to work.’

  ‘Think of us freezing our fingers to the bone while you’re sitting in a nice warm surgery.’

  ‘You’d hate it,’ I smile.

  ‘I would indeed.’

  Later, I sit at my desk at the surgery, reaching past a giant poinsettia Fifi insisted on giving me as a gift from the garden centre, and switch the computer on. I wait for it to load, and for my mind to fill with thoughts of the day ahead, reviewing the patients I’ve asked to see again. There’s Ruby, Frances’s eight-year-old granddaughter, who has eczema and asthma, Ed Pike, who is due back to see me to discuss the results of his latest blood tests, and Mrs Brown who is booked in for one of her regular check-ups.

  Try as I might, I can’t get Matt out of my head. I grab a tissue and blow my nose. What am I going to do about him? It sounds pathetic for the strong, independent woman that I am to spend her time inwardly – and outwardly – weeping over an ex-boyfriend, but I really don’t think I can live without him.

  I’m beginning to feel I’m being too stubborn, too intransigent over making a compromise. I gaze up at the photo of me and Willow flying over the cross-country fence. Yes, I will miss eventing if I give it up for good, but I won’t miss it in the same heart-wrenching way that I miss Matt. If he missed the girl who died half as much as I miss him, then I can understand where he’s coming from.

  I pick up my mobile and call him, leaving a message on his voicemail and hoping it isn’t too late. I check the time. I’m running behind, which isn’t the best start to a busy morning surgery, but I manage to catch up.

  Mr Brown brings his wife in her wheelchair, crashing along the corridor from reception to the consulting room.

  ‘His driving’s no better,’ Mrs Brown says with a smile.

  He looks better though, I think. He’s put on some weight and had his hair cut.

  ‘How are you both?’ I ask them.

  ‘The same as ever, Dr Chieveley,’ Mr Brown says.

  ‘Oh, don’t talk nonsense.’ His wife nudges him. ‘You’ve had a new lease of life since Tina came. She’s the carer. He didn’t want her at first, but now he says he couldn’t live without her.’

  ‘We don’t really need her help,’ Mr Brown says, ‘but she’s a very nice woman.’

  ‘I’m glad it’s working out,’ I say. At least, this way, the Browns can stay together in their own home.

  By lunchtime, I’m seeing my last patient.

  ‘Come on in.’ I show Ed Pike through to the consulting room.

  ‘Look at me. I’m a free man. No children. No dog,’ he says brightly.

  No vest either, I notice. He’s looking well, having put on some muscle, and he’s wearing a shirt, tweed tie and cord trousers.

  ‘How’s it going?’ I ask as he takes a seat.

  ‘I feel so much better. I can’t believe how bad I felt, but I didn’t realise it. I kept putting the tiredness and lack of energy down to running around after the kids. I’m on top form now.’ His expression grows serious. ‘What about the blood results though, Nicci? Are they okay?’

  ‘They’re good,’ I say. ‘Your hormone levels are within normal limits, so we’ve got the dosage right. All you have to do is carry on taking the medication and come in for regular blood tests for monitoring.’

  ‘That’s brilliant.’ Ed pauses. ‘Do you want to see my … um, chest at all? I’ve been working out.’ He’s no longer the shy, awkward patient I saw at the beginning when he could hardly bring himself to mention his problem, and I can tell I’m going to see his chest however I respond because he’s taken off his tie and is unfastening the buttons on his shirt. He stands up and slips his shirt off, revealing his pectorals. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘That’s very impressive,’ I say, before wondering if my observation could be considered inappropriate. ‘It’s a dramatic change from how you were before.’

  ‘Yep, no one makes jokes about my moobs any more, apart from one of the estate workers who asked me if I’d had a reduction and then if I’d burned my bra.’

  ‘Oh dear.’

  ‘It’s all right. I had him beating for Lord Underbrooke, one of our regular visitors, when he turned up with his shooting party. That’s a risky business if ever there was one.’ Ed smiles.

  ‘How is your job?’ I ask.

  ‘My boss has confirmed I’ll be all right there for another couple of years at least.’

  ‘That’s great.’

  ‘It’s a massive relief, and it’s thanks to you, Nicci, because I couldn’t have pulled myself back together if I’d still felt so bad about my appearance.’ He sighs. ‘That makes me sound like such a girl.’

  ‘Lots of men have problems with their body image,’ I say. ‘They just don’t like to talk about it in the same way as women.’

  ‘I’ve left something at the desk for you. It’s nothing much, just a token.’ With that, he dresses and leaves with a repeat prescription to take to the chemist’s for more medication for his thyroid, which is what caused his problems in the first place. Curious, I go and see what he’s left for me, thinking it might be chocolates or biscuits that I can share with the rest of the staff.

  ‘I’ve put them in a bin bag in the fridge,’ Janet says when I ask her. ‘They’re in the drawer at the bottom, well away from the milk. It’s disgusting if you ask me.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Go and see.’ Janet wrinkles her nose. ‘You’re in for a nasty shock.’

  It’s a brace of pheasants! I feel quite the country GP now.

  ‘What do I do with them?’

  ‘Don’t ask me,’ Janet says. ‘The sight of them is enough to turn me vegetarian. Ugh. They’re foul.’

  ‘You’re right, Janet,’ I chuckle. ‘They are indeed fowl. As in F-O-W-L. Oh, never mind.’

  ‘I get it,’ she says. ‘If I were you, I’d get your boyfriend to pluck them and take their entrails out – he’ll know which bit’s which.’

  I don’t enlighten Janet, as she answers the phone, to the fact that I’m not sure where I am with Matt at the moment.

  ‘Nicci, don’t go away.’ Holding the phone to her ear, she looks in my direction, her expression one of concern. ‘It’s Steve Wilde.’

  I’m not sure what condition Steve’s heart is in at the moment, but mine stops. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘On the way here. His daughter’s bringing him. He’s having chest pains.’ She returns to the call. ‘Tessa, don’t worry about the parking. Come straight in.’

  ‘I’ll grab the trolley,’ I say as Janet puts the phone down. ‘Call an ambulance just in case, and if Ben or Claire are around, I could use reinforcements.’

  ‘Claire’s at lunch and Ben’s with a patient. I’ll fetch him.’

  I open the door to the nurse’s room, grab the wheelchair from inside and push it out to the front of the surgery where Steve is getting out of a car, his hands pressed to his chest, his eyes rolling with pain and anxiety, but he’s able to walk to the wheelchair without gasping for breath or turning blue.

  Joining him, I take hold of his wrist to check his pulse, which is fast but regular.

  ‘Sit down, Steve,’ I tell him.

  ‘I can walk,’ he says.

  ‘Sit down, Dad,’ his daughter says, her voice threaded with panic, which doesn’t help when someone’s having a heart attack. However, it works and Steve responds by sinking into the wheelchair so I can push him into the treatment room – with difficulty, because he’s still a large man in spite of his attempts at dieting.

  ‘Watch your driving, Doc,’ he mutters as I steer him into the trolley with a clash of metal
against metal.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say before asking him to lie on the couch.

  ‘I’m having another one,’ he gasps. ‘I know I am. The pain …’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you to call an ambulance last time?’ I scold as I rig up the ECG machine to get a trace of the electrical activity in his heart.

  ‘Yes,’ he says sheepishly.

  ‘Well, there’s one on its way now. Hold still,’ I say as the trace jumps. ‘Tell me what’s been going on? When did these pains start?’

  ‘I had a couple of twinges overnight.’

  ‘So you thought it would be a good idea to see how you felt in the morning? How many times do I have to tell you, Steve?’

  ‘She’s such a nag.’ He looks towards his daughter, who’s standing out of the way in the corner of the room, clutching a bag and keys. ‘She’s worse than your mother, isn’t she, Tess?’

  ‘Dad,’ she sighs. ‘We’re only trying to help you.’

  ‘I know, love.’

  I watch the trace. His pulse is slowing down, approaching a normal rate.

  ‘You know, I don’t think this is a heart attack,’ I say, calling Janet through to ask her to cancel the ambulance.

  ‘I told you so, Dad,’ says Tessa. ‘He was drinking beer and eating pickled eggs last night.’

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  ‘You were.’

  ‘Oh no, I wasn’t,’ Steve says in the manner of a panto dame.

  ‘Oh, yes you were.’

  ‘Oh no, I wasn’t.’

  ‘He was, Dr Chieveley.’

  I listen to Steve’s chest for a moment to give me a chance to collect my thoughts and make sure I’m not making a potentially fatal mistake.

  ‘So, what’s the verdict?’

  ‘Indigestion. I’m going to prescribe you antacids and a sensible diet.’

  Steve rolls his eyes in that theatrical way of his. ‘Don’t you ever have any fun, Nicci?’

  ‘I have more than enough fun, thank you,’ I say.

  ‘You know, you should come along to the panto. We’re holding it at the school this year. I’ll let you have a couple of tickets.’