A Country Affair

by Rebecca Shaw

  Mia noticed her reluctance to open the letter while she was there, so despite her curiosity she left Kate to herself.

  Dearest Kate,

  I’m at the airport awaiting takeoff. My mother is seriously ill with a heart problem. You will already know when you read this that I am going home to see her. I didn’t intend writing to you, but at the last minute I can’t help myself.

  No one who saw your face when we delivered the calf that last night could fail to realize that the veterinary profession is for you. You were so alive that night. I knew if I stayed I would be tempted to want you to go home with me and that you would come, and in no time at all begin bitterly to regret not qualifying. I cannot stand in the way of your fulfilling your ambition.

  I said you were different from any girl I’d kissed before and you are, so very special, to me. You will always be close to my heart. Take care, sweet one.

  They’re loading the plane. Must go.

  All my love,

  Scott

  There was a splotch of a tear at the bottom of the letter and she didn’t know if it was a tear of Scott’s or one of hers. But it was still wet, so it must be hers. Though there was another splotch near the words sweet one, which had dried, or maybe that was a splash of lager. Whatever it was, Scott had written that letter and she knew he meant every word. There was no address at the top. So he really did mean it to be final, though in his letter to Joy he had said he’d be back in a couple of weeks. But like Joy, reading between the lines, she sensed he would not come. In any case, if she read her own letter a thousand times, it would still say she wouldn’t see him again.

  She lay back on the pillow, drained of emotion. Was she glad or was she not? Kate didn’t really know. There seemed to be a great big hole somewhere in the middle of her, a hollowness that wouldn’t go away. Oh, Scott! Oh, Scott!

  He was right, though. If he’d asked her, she would have gone wherever he went and as he said would have been most likely, when it was too late, she would regret it all the rest of her life. She thought about how she felt when she saw the calf being born and tried hard to put it foremost in her mind, but Scott would keep creeping around the edges of her resolve and obliterating her determination not to think of him. Oh, Scott! To sacrifice yourself for me. You surely belong to the great and the good.

  Maybe one day she would travel to Australia and look up his name in the Veterinary Register and seek him out. She wrapped her arms around her waist to stem the tide of pain. This was acute physical agony she felt, a very real gnawing in her innards. Whatever, she wasn’t going to let anyone at the practice know just how much she missed him. She’d brace herself to speak of him without flinching and do all her grieving at home. She hid her head under the duvet and wept for him.

  Oh, Scott! Oh, Scott!

  THAT Saturday night Mungo rang Joy and asked if he and Miriam could come around for an hour. “Not for a meal, just for an emergency business meeting. If you’re not going out, that is.”

  “We’re not. Of course, come around; be glad to see you.”

  “That man from the agency—I wasn’t keen.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, come around, then. If you don’t mind Duncan being here.”

  “Course not. Colin’s covering just for the evening, so I won’t get called out.”

  “Right. See you then.”

  “About nine. Bye.”

  When they came, Miriam arrived with a gift, as she always did when she visited anyone. This time it was flowers.

  Mungo kissed Joy, and Miriam kissed her and Duncan, and eventually Miriam and Joy went into the kitchen to put the flowers in water while Duncan poured drinks for them.

  “Whiskey?”

  Mungo nodded. “You’re a man of leisure at the moment, then?”

  “I am. Till the next project comes up.”

  “I can’t understand how relaxed you are about it. I need to have daily work on a regular basis, on the go all the time. I wouldn’t know what to do with leisure like you’ve got right now. Taking a holiday’s a different matter altogether, but I find even that hard.”

  They could hear Joy and Miriam laughing together in the kitchen.

  Duncan sat down. “They get on amazingly well, those two, don’t they . . . considering?”

  Mungo looked at him in surprise. “Considering? Considering what?”

  There was a pause before Duncan replied, “Both loving the same man?”

  “The same man?” Mungo went deathly still.

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  Duncan nodded. “You. Didn’t you know?”

  The shock of Duncan’s revelation silenced Mungo. When he did eventually answer, his voice was harsh and belligerent. “Is this you having one of your plain-speaking moments—you know, when you vent your spleen for the hell of it?”

  “No, it’s the truth. I’m surprised you’ve never realized, all these years. She loved you when she married me and still does. It’s not easy for a husband to live with.”

  “I’ve done nothing to . . .”

  “I know you haven’t.”

  “I’m stunned.” Mungo’s first thought was for Miriam. Slowly and deliberately, because he didn’t want to know the answer but knew he must, he asked, “Does Miriam know?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Joy speaks to you of it, then?”

  “I’ve known for a long, long time, but we’ve never said it out loud to each other until a few nights ago.”

  “I’m very fond of her, always have been, we’ve known each other a lot of years, worked together, you know, right from the early days. God, man, I’d no idea. You must hurt.”

  Duncan agreed he did. “Like hell. I thought you should know.”

  “Why? I don’t see what I can do about it.”

  “Neither do I. Just thought you ought to know.” Duncan pointed a finger at Mungo. “If ever you do anything about it . . .”

  “Don’t be a bloody fool. There’s too much at stake, in any case . . . If you’re bandying threats about, you remember to keep your mouth shut tight and don’t, whatever you do, tell Miriam. She is so very fond of Joy and it would ruin their relationship. I won’t allow it.”

  “No.”

  The complex emotions that had surfaced between them hung in the air. They heard sounds of footsteps and both tried to appear amicable together.

  Miriam was standing in the doorway looking at them. “What’s the matter?” She looked from one to the other, awaiting their reply.

  Duncan stood up. “Here’s your drink. Come and sit down.”

  Mungo pulled an easy chair closer to the fire. “Sit here, look, next to me.”

  “Men’s talk, then?” She squeezed Duncan’s fingers as he handed her her gin. “Joy won’t be a moment; Tiger’s been paddling in her water bowl so she’s mopping up. She’s turning into a lovely cat, isn’t she?”

  Duncan nodded. “There’s something you don’t know.”

  Mungo half rose out of his chair believing that Duncan was still in his mood to shock.

  Miriam asked Mungo, “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all.” He sat back down again but not before he’d shot a warning glare at Duncan.

  Duncan continued speaking: “I never thought I would live to see the day when I loved an animal, but I have to confess I bloody love that cat.”

  Remembering his scathing attitude to Mungo over Perkins, Miriam laughed until she was almost helpless. “Wait till I tell Joy. Oh, dear! There’s a crack appearing in your armor, then?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Well, why not. It makes you more human.”

  Mungo, sitting morosely staring into his whiskey, looked up and said snappily, “Where’s Joy? Is she coming?”

  Joy answered his question by appearing in the sitting room. “I’m here at your service. Where’s my drink?”

  They talked business, deciding that the temporary could stay till they found someone else, but there was no question of hi
s being permanent.

  Mungo expressed his feelings in no uncertain terms. “I didn’t take to the chap, not one bit. He’s too businesslike. It’s a job, not a vocation, to him and I don’t like that. With Valentine and Cohn and Rhodri and Graham and Zoe, and for that matter Scott, they all like animals and put their welfare first. This chap seemed to talk too much about making money.”

  “Excuse me, but we do need to make money. We’ve got wages to pay,” Joy said.

  Mungo nodded. “Of course, but there’s a limit. We’ll put up with him until we find the person we want. Right?”

  Joy added, “Colin is your partner. Do we know what he thinks? Shouldn’t he have a say?”

  “Oh, Colin! He’ll go along with our decision. You know what he’s like: anything for an easy life. And Zoe’s too preoccupied with the imminent arrival of the baby to be bothered.”

  Finally they talked of this and that, of Scott leaving, of Kate and her hopes, and it was midnight before Miriam and Mungo were saying their good-byes.

  “Good night! Good night!”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thanks for coming.”

  Miriam called out from the car, “The pleasure’s all ours. Did you know that Duncan’s confessed to loving Tiger? Isn’t it a laugh? I’ll speak to you Monday about lunch next week. There’s something about my future I need to discuss. OK?”

  Joy waited to wave to them as they turned into the road because Miriam always gave a big wave out of the window just before they disappeared and Joy didn’t want to disappoint her. She followed Duncan in, locked the front door and went to find him in the kitchen washing glasses.

  “I’m so lucky to have Miriam for a friend. I don’t deserve her.”

  Duncan didn’t answer.

  “She’s so kind to me, isn’t she? She must never know what we talked about the other evening. I couldn’t look her in the eye if she did. You won’t ever tell her, will you?”

  “Never.”

  Chapter

  15

  Back at work on Monday, Kate hoped she was getting away with her pretense of finding Scott’s sudden disappearance no problem at all. As she’d promised herself, she was keeping her grieving for home. At work she intended to be as she always was—pleasant, efficient and happy. Meeting the clients was no problem, but working with Stephie and Lynne needed more willpower than she had ever imagined. All weekend the pain of Scott’s leaving kept surfacing and real life became a nightmare. She longed to put back the clock and pretend that she’d never let on to Scott how she felt about him, that he was still here and she could look forward to his coming into the practice for his list, or halfway through the day with an armful of samples for the lab, or ringing up and saying he’d be another half hour before he’d finished and should they go out somewhere? But he wouldn’t, not ever.

  This was the day Miss Chillingsworth was going to be able to take new Cherub home. It had been a fight to keep new Cherub alive, but with intensive nursing and Rhodri’s brilliant piece of surgery, she had survived. None of the kittens had been alive when Rhodri operated and Cherub had been close to death too, but the two Sarahs and Bunty had given her forty-eight hours of round-the-clock nursing and she was now fit to go home. Kate had fully expected Miss Chillingsworth to be there before the morning clinic opened, but it was almost lunchtime when she came in, beaming from ear to ear, carrying her old cat basket.

  “Kate, dear. Is she ready?”

  “She is. Give me your basket and I’ll get her for you. There’s tablets for her to take too. Don’t go without them.”

  Miss Chillingsworth leaned her elbows on the reception desk, wondering if she should divulge the reason for being so late collecting her dear new Cherub. She decided not. They would only think her a foolish old lady, which perhaps she was, and they wouldn’t be interested. She wouldn’t tell them how she’d spent the morning crying. How it had struck her that bringing her new Cherub home to her big house, with its echoing, shabby rooms, had filled her with dread. Of how she had wept for the lost companionship of old Cherub, for her teenage boyfriend drowned at Dunkirk, for the years spent in shackles nursing her tyrannical father, for the paintings she’d had to sell to keep going, and that she’d wondered what use she had ever been to anyone at all, and where was it all going to end?

  Weeping was a new experience for her, for despite all the vicissitudes of her life, she’d never before weakened and found relief in crying. But the tears she’d shed today had swept away the debris of that past life and when finally she could cry no more, she’d dried her eyes and decided that old memories didn’t keep you warm, or put food on the table, or enrich your life, or provide companionship. Old memories were old memories and nothing more, and at this moment she’d had enough of them.

  She’d recollected that an estate agent had pushed a leaflet through her door weeks before, saying that properties like hers were in great demand and why not take advantage of the boom in property prices in the area? Why not? Why shouldn’t she have a slice of the good life? Sell, buy a garden flat and provide a real home for new Cherub. For she deserved something better than this old, cold, comfortless house. She would. And for once in her life, she’d have spare money to spend on luxuries for herself and for new Cherub.

  But she’d have to get rid of lots of things. There wouldn’t be room in a flat for all this big furniture, or for all the things she’d kept in case they might be useful some time. She could begin today and collecting Cherub would be the start of her new life. Consequently, she’d been delayed by making arrangements at the estate agent’s. But now she was here and she couldn’t wait to tell Cherub all about her plans.

  Kate came through from the back with Cherub safely stowed in the old basket. Miss Chillingsworth poked a finger through the wire door. “Hello, Cherub dear. We’re going home. I’ve got some lovely chicken ready for your dinner tonight. Now, Kate, what do I owe?”

  “We haven’t finished doing the bill yet. We’ll mail it.”

  “I’ll give you a hundred pounds on account, shall I? I have it with me.”

  Memories of the last one hundred pounds she’d left in her care made Kate blush. “No, thank you. You hang on to it until you get the bill, Miss Chillingsworth.” Kate diverted her from talking about money by remembering the tablets. “Now you see, we almost forgot the tablets. One each day. There’s sufficient until Sunday and she should be fine by then. Bring her back a week from today for her checkup. What she needs now is some loving care.”

  “She’ll get that; don’t worry. Come along, then, Cherub, off we go home. Bye-bye, dear. See you next week, Kate. Take care, dear. Send me the bill as soon as you can.”

  Kate watched her trot away, glad that her new cat had put the spring back in her step. Poor Miss Chillingsworth with nothing to look forward to but enjoying her new cat. She thought about growing old and having achieved nothing at all. That was definitely not going to happen to Kate Howard. Definitely not. Had Miss Chillingsworth known that the sight of her had strengthened Kate’s resolve to qualify and make a challenging life for herself, she would have been very gratified to have been proved to be of some use after all.

  Kate went to fill the fire bucket because it was the first Monday of the month and Adolf was due. Though she hated dogs to fight, she had to confess to enjoying the thrill of Perkins and Adolf squaring up to each other. They truly meant nothing by it; it was simply something they both felt a need to do.

  She placed the heavy bucket under the reception desk and checked through the small-animal appointments for the afternoon clinic at four. It was so quiet today for a Monday morning. Coffee. She’d make coffee for Lynne and Joy.

  Joy liked it not too hot, two sugars and plenty of milk. Lynne liked it hot, no sugar with hot milk. As she waited for the milk to heat up in the microwave, she thought of Scott and how he’d grown to love her making his coffee for him. Black with two sugars. She remembered how he cupped his hands around the mug, not using the handle when he drank. She indulge
d herself by thinking about those long, strong fingers, the brown hair streaked with blond, the broad shoulders, the clean smell of him, and then she saw in her mind’s eye how he’d looked the day he’d fallen into Phil Parsons’s slurry pit and she laughed.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  It was Lynne.

  “Life, I suppose.”

  “Mm. Glad you find it a joke. I don’t.”

  Kate turned to look at her. “Why?”

  “Sick of everything. Time I moved on. Did something different.”

  “Why don’t you, then?”

  Lynne shrugged her shoulders. “Such as?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever takes your fancy, I suppose.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, you’ve got an aim in life. What will you do if you don’t get your chemistry, though?”

  Kate groaned. “Don’t mention it. I honestly don’t know.”

  “You will, you wait and see. You’ll make a good vet. It must be hard doing a day’s work and then studying.”

  “It is, but I enjoy it.”

  “Worth it?”

  “Of course.”

  “I might give it a go. Not veterinary but something else.”

  “You should.”

  “I might do that very thing. Why not?” Lynne went to sit outside on the bench by the back door and think about her options. Kate went back to the reception desk.

  To stop herself from thinking about Scott, Kate worked all afternoon instead of taking her three hours off.

  Joy put her head around the door halfway through the afternoon. “You really shouldn’t, you know, you should go out or go home or something.”

  “I know.” She pondered whether or not to tell Joy her reasons. “Better keeping busy at the moment.”

  “I see. He shouldn’t have done what he did.”

  “He explained.”

  “You’ve heard, then?”

  “A letter from the airport.”

  “I see. All part of life’s rich tapestry, if that’s any comfort.”