Summer with the Country Village Vet

by Zara Stoneley

  ‘Aww, bless her she needed a little tinkle, didn’t you Twinkle?’ How Jill kept her voice even, Lucy didn’t know. But it was too much.

  Lucy could feel Charlie’s body vibrating against hers as he fought the laughter, his fingers clenching spasmodically on her shoulder. And she knew without looking that Jill would be fighting a losing battle against the giggles.

  ‘I’ll get that drink.’ She shot off the bench.

  ‘So will I.’ Jill shot off the other side, and together they made a dive for the doorway of the village pub, leaving Charlie to his fate.

  ‘Oh my, she never usually does that much. Do you think it’s the exercise, or,’ they heard her pause theatrically, ‘she’s expecting?’ Her voice drifted after them.

  ‘I think she was just desperate Miss Stevens. We all get caught short at some time, don’t we? Now if you’ll just excuse me I need to see what Lucy… splendid that she’s recovered so well, great news, wonderful.’

  Jill and Lucy swapped a look as they heard him struggling to get off the bench.

  ‘Should we help him?’

  ‘In.’ His voice had a hint of desperation as he put a strong hand in the centre of Lucy’s back and propelled her in through the door.

  Matt, who was propping the bar up, grinned with delight as first Lucy, then Jill tumbled into the pub, giggling their heads off. He’d been getting a bit fed up with playing gooseberry to Jamie and Sally, he was used to being the main attraction.

  ‘Well if it isn’t my favourite teachers.’ He beckoned them over. ‘Sal said you wanted to inspect Jamie’s whippets?’

  ‘She did?’ Jill looked over Lucy’s shoulder.

  ‘She did.’

  ‘Well I…’ She frowned at Sally, who smiled back and looked very comfortable in the corner with Jamie.

  ‘I’ve been over and put that electric fence up for you, while you and wonder boy here were entertaining the kids. Reckon I deserve a kiss, don’t you?’ Matt winked and puckered up, his eyes half-closed, his arms open invitingly.

  ‘You have?’ Charlie and Lucy spoke in unison, and she felt a pang of guilt as his deep voice echoed in her ear.

  ‘I have, popped in to see Sal and she persuaded me to do something useful.’

  Sally laughed. ‘Hope you didn’t mind Lucy, but he was driving me nuts, it was the only way to get rid of him. I know you said there was no rush, but…’

  ‘Well there wasn’t, but thanks.’ Lucy, with Jim’s help, had unearthed the electric fencing, but she’d been reluctant to ask Charlie to do it. He had offered, but she already owed him for agreeing to talk to the school, and he’d given her advice about Mischief, and it was all beginning to feel like she was starting to rely on him. And she fancied him, more than she should. And she really did need to keep a distance (which she’d just failed miserably on – since when was thigh to thigh considered a distance?) before he realised and she looked a complete idiot. And he was busy, with lots on his mind. And, as Sal had pointed out, there were lots of people in the village who’d be more than happy to help out – so she’d not mentioned it again. So that was lots of ‘ands’. But she hadn’t thought Matt would turn up and do it.

  And it just felt too personal with Charlie. Even more personal now he’d had his arm draped round her, and been so lovely chatting to the kids.

  ‘I thought I was doing that.’ Charlie’s voice had an edge to it. A hurt edge. ‘I did offer.’

  Oh God, she’d upset him now.

  ‘Well yes, but I thought you’d be too busy, and,’ she was sounding pretty helpless and pathetic here. ‘Sally asked Matt for me…’

  ‘Always happy to help a damsel in distress.’ He winked. She blushed.

  She wasn’t a damsel, or in distress, but it was sweet of him. And she wasn’t exactly being grateful or gracious. ‘Thanks, that’s brilliant.’ She could almost feel Charlie’s scowl burning through her back.

  ‘Brilliant.’ His tone was dry. ‘Good of you to help, Matt.’

  Did that sound a bit territorial? Lucy glanced up at Charlie who was staring straight at Matt. ‘Well, I better get off back to the surgery and check the animals over.’

  Oh bugger. ‘Thanks for today Charlie, it was fab, the kids loved it.’

  He gave a tight smile. Banged his empty glass down on the bar and headed for the door.

  So what had happened to sunshine Charlie? All of a sudden he was even grumpier than before. Maybe chatting to the kids had affected him more than he realised, and it was a delayed reaction. He obviously missed his daughter, and it sounded like there was a lot more hurt heading his way. She was trying so hard not to put more pressure on, add to his workload and worries, but it seemed she’d failed on that score.

  ‘You don’t need to check them Charlie, I’ve already …’ Sally’s words hung in the air. He’d gone.

  ‘Well what’s got into him?’ Jill looked after him in surprise.

  Sally raised an eyebrow, then nodded at Lucy. ‘Lucy has.’

  ‘What?’ Lucy stared at her. ‘I didn’t do anything!’ No way could Sally know about Josie, could she? Hell, if she did, that could mean everybody did, which had to be Charlie’s worst nightmare.

  ‘It’s not you he’s cross at, it’s Matt.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s jealous.’

  ‘Oh don’t be ridiculous, we’re just friends,’ he’d made it quite clear before that he didn’t want more, and with the complications of a child she could understand. ‘We haven’t even…’ they hadn’t even kissed. Well not properly. Which was good. A lucky escape.

  ‘Oh, the silly sod’ll get over it.’ Matt held his glass up. ‘Anybody for another drink?’

  ‘I better pass. School tomorrow.’ Normally she’d have started on her books as soon as the children had left. She sighed inwardly. So much for being friends. Maybe it was better if she just steered well clear of Charlie, better for both of them. Except it was pretty impossible to avoid anybody in this village.

  ‘Me too.’ Jill put her empty glass on the bar. ‘I’ll tell you what though, having you around certainly livens things up.’ She grinned good-naturedly.

  Lucy didn’t know if that was good or bad. She’d never, ever been accused of livening anything up. She’d have to think about that one.

  She leaned forward impulsively and kissed Matt on the cheek. Maybe not quite what he’d been after, but it would have to do. ‘Thanks for sorting the fence for me.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ He grinned. ‘I can always take it down so Sir Galahad can put it back up for you?’

  ‘Don’t you dare! He’s probably got work on his mind, or something, I’m sure he wasn’t bothered at all about doing my fence. It wasn’t that at all.’ It couldn’t have been. Why on earth would Charlie be annoyed that Matt had saved him a job?

  Chapter 14

  Lucy couldn’t believe how fast the weeks had whizzed by. If she hadn’t agreed to extend her contract for another six weeks, and stay until the summer break, she’d already be thinking about saying goodbye to Langtry Meadows and the lovely children. Instead, it was the final week of the half term and she was getting ready for a week off and some serious gardening.

  ‘Now then my dear,’ the classroom door creaked open and all the children looked up at Liz Potts, who was looking more Mrs Tiggy-Winkle than ever in a pink and white summer dress with a full skirt, ‘this is Miss Jacobs, hasn’t she got a pretty classroom?’

  She held out her chubby arms to encompass the room then looked down at the little girl who was doing her best to hide behind the secretary’s generous hips. ‘Miss Jacobs, this is Maisie who is here for a trial day.’ Maisie peeped round, one hand clutching Liz’s skirt, her big, brown eyes wide with trepidation, gorgeous auburn curls cascading round her face. ‘Her mummy is in chatting to Mr Parry, but if you need her just shout.’

  Lucy had seen Liz escorting a parent round the school earlier at her normal breakneck speed. There’d been a flash of glossy red hair, pale skin and floaty silk
blouse before they’d disappeared.

  Timothy had told her she’d be having a visitor for a couple of hours. It was a normal occurrence, although she was sure much more common in the city schools she was used to than in this village.

  At her last school they’d had children coming and going all the time, traveller’s children who stayed a few weeks then disappeared. They were used to change, to adapting, and hid any nerves with bravado. Then there were the ones who were used to their mother’s, or father’s, frequent change of partners. And kids who just seemed to have been born cocky and streetwise.

  But for little Maisie she could see it was different. And she knew that feeling.

  She’d told the children at registration that they were expecting a special visitor, that they should make her welcome and show her what a nice place the school was, but for some reason this ethereal child with her angelic features, cloud of hair and obvious fear clutched at her heart in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling.

  The big wide eyes stared into hers and she saw a tiny bit of herself mirrored there. This little girl had the look she was sure she’d had. The uncertainty. The hope that things wouldn’t be that bad. The fear of failure, of being unwelcome.

  ‘Maisie, I am so glad to see you! You’re just the person we need to help us make a very important decision.’ She held out a hand, and Maisie, her thumb in her mouth reluctantly edged forward. Lucy crouched down so that she was on a level with the girl, she dropped her voice to a confidential tone. ‘I hear you’ve got a very special dog and we really, really need to add one into our new pet display. You couldn’t help us out could you?’

  Maisie nodded eagerly, her eyes brightening, and Lucy heaved an inward sigh of relief. The little girl’s mother had filled in all the advance information they’d asked for – which a lot of parents didn’t – and it gave her something to work with, hints on how to make the little girl relax and feel at home. Make her eager to come back the next term and see her new friends again.

  ‘Miss, Miss, can she sit next to me?’ Rosie had one hand in the air and was dragging a small chair closer to her with the other. Lucy looked at her, and opened her mouth to speak, but Rosie beat her to it. ‘I haven’t got anything in my pockets, no frogs or nothing, honest Miss.’

  ‘That’s very kind Rosie.’ Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jill grinning. ‘Is that okay with you, Maisie? Rosie loves dogs, she loves all animals, big and small.’ There was a splutter from Jill. ‘Don’t you, Rosie?’

  Mid-afternoon break came round surprisingly quickly.

  ‘They’re very adaptable at that age aren’t they?’

  Lucy joined Jill at the classroom window, and watched Maisie happily skipping around the playground next to Rosie and Sophie. ‘They are.’ She hadn’t been. But maybe it was all down to circumstance, luck, a million other things.

  ‘Her mother said she’s just got divorced, she said something about moving here so that Maisie would be near her father, he must live on that new estate. Some of the people out there don’t really use the village shop, and if they haven’t got family they don’t come to any of the events on the green, so we just don’t see them. Liz said that the move isn’t definite yet, but she wanted to be sure that the school would be the right one.’

  ‘Sounds complicated.’ Lucy sighed, it always was complicated.

  ‘At least the parents get on, it makes it so much easier for the kids if they can stay close.’

  ‘True. I didn’t see my dad after my parents split. Everything was strange and new, to be honest I felt like nobody loved me. Young children need to feel secure, wanted, and it doesn’t take much to shatter the illusion.’ And young children were so sensitive to the vibes around them, she knew that now. Happy parents made happy children, which was probably where it had all started going wrong for her at Stoneyvale. There had been a tension, something that she’d been too young to identify, but it had sown the first seeds of insecurity. Seeds that like weeds had flourished when she’d found herself in a new, strange environment. And it had taken her years to find her self-worth, find her own safe-place in the big, wide, world.

  ‘It must have been tough.’ Jill started to spread the paintings out on the window sill to dry. ‘I can’t imagine being dragged away from friends and the place you love. When I lost my husband it was the people here that saved me.’

  Lucy stopped thinking about herself, she knew her eyes had opened wide. Over the last few weeks Jill had given very little away about her private life, she’d just been a hard-working caring co-worker who always had a smile and good word for everybody.

  ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t…’

  ‘Oh don’t be sorry, I don’t tend to mention it.’ Jill smiled reassuringly. ‘It was a while ago, but working here, being involved in the village and all the bloody nosy busybodies saved me.’ She stopped shuffling the paintings around. ‘If I hadn’t felt I belonged somewhere, that people cared, I would have drowned.’

  ‘Oh Jill, I feel a complete fraud now. My problems were nothing like yours.’

  ‘They were to you.’ Jill patted her hand. ‘You were young, children need to feel secure. I lost my husband, but I’ve got some good memories, and we knew it was coming. I had time to prepare.’

  ‘You knew?’

  ‘He’d been ill for a while, but he made sure I’d be okay, I’d be provided for. It takes time to heal, Lucy, but we find ways to cope. Time doesn’t stop the hurt, you won’t get over it, it doesn’t make anything better, but it teaches you how to deal with the pain, how to cope and find a new slightly different way of living. We all need to be gentle on ourselves, I’ve learned that much. And we don’t have to expect everything to be all okay again, because it will always be different. You lost your father and losing a parent as well as your home must have been terrible, it must have felt like the end of the world at times.’

  ‘It did.’ It had done. Her father had as good as died that day they moved. ‘I suppose I felt totally rootless.’ She picked up a handful of paintbrushes and took them over to the sink, watching the colour wash down the plughole. ‘I felt alienated, I guess it coloured my view of the village. Left a nasty taste.’

  ‘Even though it had been okay?’

  Lucy rubbed at the remnants of sunshine yellow paint. ‘Yep, it had been okay, once.’ She nodded. ‘I realise that now, but it had started going wrong before we moved, which is,’ she’d not said this out loud before, she hadn’t dared voice the feelings that had been gradually taking hold in her mind, ‘maybe why we did move. At that age though all I could see was that my dad had abandoned me,’ she paused, ‘I always thought that it was Mum, that she hadn’t liked it there.’ Thinking back, her mother had never talked about the village as though she’d liked it there, she talked more about where she’d been brought up herself and what a wonderful life they’d have in the future. ‘But now I’m starting to think that maybe it was more to do with my dad.’

  Jill stopped what she was doing and put a hand on her arm. ‘It’s the experiences that make you who you are, stronger. If you’d never moved, would you be here now? Would you have been so determined to be a fantastic teacher? Would you be able to empathise with these kids the way you do?’

  ‘Elsie Harrington said something like that. I wonder what her secret is? Who she lost?’

  ‘I didn’t know she’d lost anybody.’ Jill frowned. ‘She is a bit of a mystery though. Like you.’

  ‘I’m not—’

  ‘You keep things that bother you close though, don’t you? When I watch you with the children I can see you really understand their issues, it’s genuine, it makes you a special teacher Lucy. But you should let people help you, we’re a good crowd really.’

  ‘I know. You love it here, don’t you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Now,’ she took the brushes from Lucy’s hand, ‘there’s the bell, let’s get the little horrors cross-legged on the mat and do some show and tell. I don’t know about you, but after cle
aring up all that paint I’m ready for the final bell.’

  Lucy was ready for the final bell too when it rang. The sun was streaming into the school and she was dying to get home and sit out in the back garden with a glass of wine and the books she had for marking. Not that she was desperate to do the marking, but somehow sitting in the still slightly wild garden, with the sound of insects and birds, turned it into an almost pleasant activity.

  She held a hand up and they all stilled and copied her. ‘Is everybody ready to line up? Right what shall we do today?’ She tilted her head and studied the children as though she was thinking. ‘I know, hmm I know class 5 can do this, but it might be too difficult for us.’

  ‘We’re cleverer than class 5, Miss Jacobs.’ Ted frowned at her, his face solemn.

  ‘Okay, let’s do shortest to tallest.’

  At her last school getting her large class to form any kind of neat, quiet line had been a challenge in itself. More often than not, one or two would disappear under tables, some would dawdle round the display table reluctant to leave the safety of the classroom and return to parents who hadn’t got time for them, and others would do their best to seek attention by disrupting the children that were behaving.

  Here, the children were children, mischievous and at times frustrating, but just as they’d run in at the start of the day keen to be at school, they were also keen to get home as the bell rang to mark the end of the day.

  As the school had a policy of allowing the youngest children out first, her class always had a short wait until it was their turn. So Lucy varied how she asked them to line up. It kept them occupied for a few minutes so that they weren’t waiting and fidgeting for too long. Alphabetical order had caused the most chaos, with William insisting he was Billy (so that he could be near the front), Ted deciding he was Edward, and Sophie bursting into tears because she only had one name. Poppy had pointed out she could be Ophie if she wanted, which hadn’t gone down at all well.