by Lucy Daniels
They returned home, just as the sun was beginning to sink behind the distant curve of the moor that lay across the valley from Mistletoe Cottage. To Mandy’s delight, Jimmy carried a table and chairs out into the garden and they ate veggie curry and warm garlic naan breads. In the distance, a nightjar began his churring song. From the hedge came the answering chirrup of a robin. The dogs were asleep on the grass. Sky’s paws twitched as if she was dreaming.
Once the meal was finished and cleared away, they moved onto a bench in the lea of the hedge and Jimmy put an arm around her. Down in the village, the church clock began to strike eight. With a sigh, Mandy cuddled closer to Jimmy’s side. ‘This really feels a bit like the final scene in a movie,’ she said, ‘where everything has come right.’
Jimmy laughed softly, looking up at the sky, a deep blue speckled with one or two early stars. ‘I hope it isn’t our final scene,’ he said. ‘Isn’t the next part where they live happily ever after?’
Mandy shook her head. ‘They never show that part,’ she said.
He was smiling. He looked as contented as she felt. ‘Shall we head upstairs?’ she asked, pulling herself upright. She wished the evening could last forever, but whatever time she went to bed, the morning feeds at Hope Meadows would wait for no woman.
She awoke beside him at seven. Jimmy looked so peaceful when he was asleep. She wished she could prolong the moment, but Sky was awake and pacing the floor by the foot of the bed. Climbing out of bed, Mandy made her way downstairs and let the dogs out, following them into the garden. There was still dew on the grass. A bumblebee wove its way across the lawn. Mandy stretched her arms up to the sky, enjoying the cool air on her skin.
When she went back into the kitchen, Jimmy was there, making toast.
‘Morning.’ He gave her a kiss, then turned back to the kettle. ‘Coffee?’ he asked.
‘Yes, please.’
They sat down at the table. The back door was open. Outside, she could see the dogs exploring the early morning scents. It was going to be a lovely day.
A thought came into her head. ‘Will you be about for the Spring Show?’ she asked. ‘I’m going to be the official vet this year.’ Every year in May, there was an agricultural show and fair in the centre of Welford. Animal Ark had provided veterinary care for the animals for years, but this was the first time Mandy had been asked.
Jimmy wrinkled his nose, his face apologetic. ‘I think I’m working that day,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry. I meant to organise it so I made sure I had that day off, but then I forgot.’
‘It’s fine,’ Mandy said. It couldn’t be helped and usually it was she who had to cry off for work at the weekends.
‘What about this weekend coming up?’ he asked. ‘Would it be all right if I brought Abi and Max over to see Holly and Robin? They’d love to come and visit.’
The twins. Mandy’s good mood faded just a little. Not that she had forgotten them, but last night had been so wonderful with just her and Jimmy. She paused with her mug halfway to her mouth.
‘I’m actually really busy,’ she said. ‘James is coming over. And there’s someone coming to visit the donkeys …’ she trailed off. Outside, a cloud passed over the sun.
Jimmy was looking at her. Could he read what was inside her head? ‘You’re going to have to get used to spending time with the children,’ he said. His voice was still friendly, but the magic of the past few hours fled.
Mandy put down her mug. Her toast suddenly seemed far less appetising. ‘It’s not that,’ she objected. ‘I really am busy.’ He was looking at her. Her conscience prickling, she added, ‘It wasn’t exactly a roaring success the other night, was it?’ Across the table, Jimmy set his cup down. Trying to keep her voice steady, she rushed on. ‘Obviously they want you to themselves at the moment. It’s completely natural with Belle’s new baby …’
But there never was going to be a good time, she thought, even if they waited. The baby was on the way and everything was going to change.
‘I’m sure you’re right.’ Jimmy looked across at her, his mouth lifting at one side, as if he was trying to smile but couldn’t quite manage. ‘They probably do feel that way, but life doesn’t always work out like that. It isn’t neat and tidy.’ He paused, took a small bite of toast, chewed it thoughtfully and swallowed. ‘You’re a part of my life now,’ he said. ‘We need to find a way for you to be part of their lives too.’ He picked up his coffee cup and leaned back in his chair, cradling the drink between his hands as if warming them.
There was no real answer to that. It made sense, yet she was still uneasy. ‘However much you want it, you can’t force them to like me,’ she pointed out. ‘I can’t force them to like me either.’ The whole thing felt so unnatural. How could she expect them to take it in their stride when she, an adult, was finding it so difficult?
Jimmy grinned suddenly, as if pulling himself together. ‘Come on, Mandy Hope,’ he said, ‘aren’t you the woman who can tame wild deer and crazy dogs? If you can do that, you can tame my children surely?’
If only it was that easy, Mandy thought. Animals were far easier to understand. And sedate, she added to herself, thinking of her phone conversation with James. She smothered the smile that threatened to rise to her lips. She wasn’t sure Jimmy would see the funny side.
‘You can bring them over on Sunday afternoon,’ she said. After all, James would be there. He was much better with children than she was.
Across the table, Jimmy looked pleased at her suggestion that they come over on Sunday. ‘Thank you,’ he said, reaching out a hand and squeezing hers. ‘It will get easier.’
She squeezed his hand back, hoping he was right.
Chapter Seven
It had been a difficult morning for Mandy so far: three consultations, three dogs to vaccinate. All of them had growled the moment they had seen her. It had taken all her ingenuity and quite a bit of time to get them injected safely. Then she’d spent a good hour sedating a cat to treat an infected wound. Now she was on her way to Mr Chadwick’s house.
Despite having slept on it, she still felt uneasy about his visit to Hope Meadows yesterday. He had been perfectly polite; she’d had no misgivings that he might mistreat the cats. But his lack of enthusiasm didn’t sit right. It was almost as if he’d been going through the motions, trying to say the right things, but missing the target. Not that everyone who wanted to adopt had to love animals the way she did, but looking after pets could be hard. You had to really want to do it.
Mr Chadwick lived in a hamlet that lay in a small valley off the Kimbleton road. She drove carefully, peering at the satnav and at the small signs that indicated hidden turns off the lane, until she saw the one for his house, number 52. She turned in through a large iron gate and found herself heading up a long gravel drive to an enormous house built of weathered, grey stone, standing in a neatly trimmed garden. A large horse-chestnut tree stood to the side of the house and there was ivy trained up a trellis around the front door. Mandy rang the bell. For a moment her mind fancifully imagined a traditionally dressed maid coming to answer, but when the door opened, Mr Chadwick was standing there himself, smartly dressed as he had been when he came to visit Hope Meadows.
‘Come in, please,’ he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
The house was immaculate. There were shelves full of neatly ordered books, cream walls, and pristine carpets. Even the ornaments on the drawing room mantelpiece were regimented. There was a grand piano, standing in state in the bay window. Other than what appeared to be a scattering of family photographs, it was almost like a show house, Mandy thought.
Wildacre has never been and will never be this clean, Mandy thought with a secret smile. Even though the plaster just went on this week!
Try as she might, it was hard to imagine Pixie running around burying her claws in the high-backed, crushed-velvet sofa or snoozing in front of the fire. Pulling a pen from her pocket, Mandy fixed her attention on working through the check
list she had brought. She was here to assess whether the house was an appropriate home for a cat, she reminded herself, not how inviting she found it herself.
In a theoretical sense it was perfect. The drawing room was perfectly safe and the kitchen had a door that was suitable for a cat-flap. There were no poisonous plants. When Mr Chadwick opened the door onto the back garden, there was an enormous stretch of grass that backed onto a field. There were no main roads nearby. ‘Your house is beautiful,’ Mandy told him, once they had explored the whole of the downstairs. ‘Is there somewhere we could go and have a chat, please?’
Together, they walked back through to the high-ceilinged drawing room that looked out towards the front of the house. Mandy found herself again wondering what was going on in her host’s head as he trod the blue-carpeted hallway.
‘Please do sit down,’ Mr Chadwick urged, ushering her towards the wing-backed chair that stood near the window. Despite its upright appearance, it was unexpectedly comfortable. Mandy looked down at questions that made up the final page of her checklist. She had carried out so many house inspections now, that she barely needed to read them. One by one, she worked her way down the list. It was designed to find out how much the potential owner understood about their new pet, and to ensure they knew how to integrate him or her into their home. There were no searching questions about whether they really wanted a pet at all. Mr Chadwick answered them all perfectly.
‘Do any of your neighbours have cats?’ Mandy asked. It was the last question. Not that there were any close neighbours, she thought, remembering the road where she had driven in. The houses on either side had equally generous gardens.
‘Mr and Mrs Chambers on the far side of the road have a cat,’ Mr Chadwick told her, ‘but it’s mostly kept inside, I believe.’
There was sunlight slanting in through the window. Mandy could see motes of dust floating. Her checklist was complete. She searched for something more to say. Mr Chadwick hadn’t asked any questions at all. Despite finding no specific obstacle to the match, she still had the unsettling sense that there was something she was missing.
Looking up, she was struck again by one of the photographs that hung on the wall beside her. The picture was of an attractive older woman, standing arm in arm with a girl who had a striking similarity to Mr Chadwick. Mandy had seen other pictures of them both, a laughing younger version of the mature lady in the kitchen, another with both of them, hanging in an alcove in the dining room.
Her eyes moved back down. Mr Chadwick met her gaze. For the first time, she caught a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. ‘That’s a lovely photograph,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ said Mr Chadwick. ‘The younger one on the right is my daughter, Sophie. The other is … was, my wife Clara.’ He pressed his mouth into a tight line and the muscles in his jaw clenched. Mandy wished she could say something to help, but had no idea what would be appropriate. ‘I lost Clara two months ago,’ Mr Chadwick said, when he could speak again. He took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. ‘Sophie thinks a cat would be company for me. She says it will give me something else to think about.’
So that’s what this is about!
‘And … what about you?’ Mandy’s eyes searched his face, though her instincts were already telling her the answer. ‘Do you feel as if a cat would give you company?’
His mouth quivered as a shudder passed through his slim frame, then he smiled, though his face remained sad. ‘I was a lucky man,’ he said, his eyes on the photograph. ‘We had thirty-two wonderful years together. She was beautiful … a beautiful person.’ The bland politeness was gone, replaced with a melancholy certainty. He sighed. ‘I know Sophie means well,’ he said, ‘but I don’t want something else to think about. Not yet.’
For a moment, Mandy couldn’t think of anything to say. James swum into her head. She had seen the same pain, the same bravery in his eyes. Platitudes were useless. She couldn’t say that she knew how Mr Chadwick was feeling; she knew she didn’t. ‘She looks kind,’ she said finally. It was inadequate, but what else was there? ‘And your daughter is beautiful.’
Mr Chadwick’s face softened as he looked at Sophie’s picture. ‘She’s a very strong character,’ he said. ‘I was the same when I was younger.’ He stood up and lifted another photograph down from the mantelpiece and handed it to Mandy. It showed a younger version of Sophie on her graduation day. ‘Clara and I were so proud of her that day,’ he told her, his voice warm with the memory. ‘I know she’s trying to do the right thing,’ he said, ‘but Clara and I never had any pets. We both loved the garden, and we loved to travel. A pet would have complicated things too much.’
Although she was sorry for him, Mandy was relieved that she understood the uneasiness she had felt earlier. She handed the photograph back and stood up. For a moment, she felt the urge to hug Mr Chadwick, but something in his expression stopped her. ‘Thanks very much for your honesty,’ she said with a nod. ‘I’ll cancel the application for now.’
He smiled as he led her out into the hallway. ‘Well, thank you for yours,’ he replied. ‘It’s unusual for someone so young to see things so clearly. And I’m sorry about Pixie,’ he said, pulling open the front door. ‘She really did seem like a lovely cat.’
Impulsively, Mandy reached out and put her arms around him, and after a moment of stiffness, he hugged her back. ‘Don’t worry about Pixie,’ she said. ‘I’m sure she’ll find a good home with someone else.’
He stood with the door open as she walked down the path. He was still standing there as she closed the car door and drove away.
Although she knew it was the right decision, Mandy was disappointed that she wasn’t going to be able to rehome Pixie. Not that one small cat made all that much difference, but the food bill for last month had been enormous. Still, it was better for both Pixie and Mr Chadwick to get the answer right.
She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. She needed to get back to Animal Ark before two, when afternoon surgery started. After that there were a couple of calls and she had to make up the spare room for James, who would be arriving at seven. There was just time for lunch. Despite her hurry, as she arrived back in Welford, on impulse she drove past Animal Ark and on up to Lilac Cottage where her grandparents lived.
Gran and Grandad were in the garden when she arrived.
‘Hello love. We weren’t expecting you.’ Grandad looked up from his seedlings, a smile lighting up his face.
‘I’ll put the kettle on. It’s almost lunchtime.’ Gran put down the secateurs she was using and patted Mandy on the shoulder. She, too, looked delighted. Mandy followed them into the familiar kitchen.
‘To what do we owe this honour?’ Grandad pulled out a chair for Mandy, then sat down himself, gazing at her across the table as Gran took out cups from the cupboard.
Mandy thought for a moment. She hadn’t really thought through what she wanted to say. ‘I’ve just been out on a house inspection,’ she said.
‘Successful?’ Grandad asked as Gran lifted the kettle, though it was obvious she was still listening as she poured the water onto the tea and moved everything over to the table.
‘Not in terms of getting any animals adopted,’ Mandy replied with a rueful smile as Gran sat down. ‘The house was lovely, but something felt wrong. His wife died just a couple of months ago. They’d been together over thirty years. His daughter thought he should get a cat. He told me he’s lonely, but he doesn’t really want a pet.’
‘Oh, are you talking about Oliver Chadwick? Poor man.’ Gran pushed the newly poured tea across the table towards Mandy and held out a plate of cheese scones. There was sympathy in her slightly cloudy eyes. ‘Clara was a lovely woman. He must be missing her, but he shouldn’t get a pet unless he really wants to.’
Mandy shook her head as she took a scone and cut it in half, then reached for the butter. She shouldn’t be surprised that Gran knew the Chadwicks – she’d lived in Welford so long that she seemed to know everyone who lived within a
ten-mile radius of the village. ‘That’s what I thought,’ she said, looking up. ‘I felt so sorry for him, but I didn’t really know how to help.’
Grandad reached a hand across the table, putting it over Mandy’s and squeezing gently. ‘It is sad,’ he admitted, ‘but sometimes there isn’t much you can do.’
Gran’s face was thoughtful. ‘Perhaps he just needs to keep busy for a while. What about the indoor bowls club?’ she asked. ‘If you like, we could invite him to that.’ She raised her eyebrows a little. ‘Or there’s the Pop-In Club. That’s in Walton. Like a social club for over-sixties,’ she explained when Mandy didn’t immediately respond.
Tom Hope regarded his wife. ‘We need to be careful,’ he said. ‘We don’t want to overwhelm the poor man. But it’s certainly an idea.’ He looked across the table at Mandy.
‘I think he’d be pleased,’ Mandy said after only a moment’s thought. ‘How would it be if I call him tomorrow and give him your number. That way, he can make the first move if he wants to.’
Grandad looked pleased. Gran reached over and patted her hand. ‘That’s a very good idea.’
‘Thanks, guys. By the way, these really are delicious.’ Mandy took another bite of the new-baked scone. Gran looked gratified.
‘They did turn out rather well,’ she said.
Half an hour and several scones later, Gran reached out her arms and gave Mandy a hug as Grandad opened the door. ‘You know you don’t have to take on everyone’s problems,’ she told Mandy.
Mandy hugged her tightly back. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but Mr Chadwick seemed so sad. I hoped you’d be able to come up with something.’
Gran’s eyes were twinkling. ‘I’m glad you came,’ she said.
‘Good to know we’re not too old to help,’ Grandad added, his grin mischievous.
Mandy wrapped her arms around him, then turned to hug her grandmother. ‘You’ll do a while yet,’ she said.