Snowflakes over Moon Cottage: the perfect cosy winter romance for 2018 (Animal Ark Revisited Book 4)

by Lucy Daniels

  The patter of raindrops on her hood had stopped. Susan pulled it back and turned to smile at Mandy, feeling a rush of gratitude towards her. ‘Sounds good,’ she said. ‘We can go to mine, if you like, seeing as it’s closer.’

  ‘Perfect!’ Mandy sounded enthusiastic. Susan was so glad she’d bumped into her. Much better than going home on her own.

  Five minutes later, clutching a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, she pushed open the door of Moon Cottage and stepped inside. To the left of the doorway, a small pair of green wellingtons with toad eyes stood neatly on a black shoe-tray. One of Jack’s paintings, a picture of a cat, hung in a cheap frame on the wall. For the briefest of moments, Susan was overtaken by a different kind of sadness. Her beloved cat Marmalade had been hit by a car back in September. He had always run to her whatever time of the day or night she had come in. There was still an instant every time she entered the house when she expected him to appear, purring loudly, wrapping himself around her legs.

  They kicked off their shoes and the moment passed. Susan collected some wine glasses from the cupboard in the kitchen and handed the corkscrew to Mandy. ‘Can you pour the wine, if I light the fire?’ she asked.

  They walked through to the living room. Susan knelt down beside the mantelpiece. Luckily, she had set the fire before she’d gone out. Within a few moments, the flames were licking up the crumpled newspapers and the kindling was beginning to crackle. When she turned round, Mandy had already sat down in one of the squashy chairs and was leaning forward to open the wine. Jack’s well-loved toy, Lamby, sat on the chair beside her, looking with serene indifference out of his one remaining eye.

  ‘Thirsty?’ she asked Susan.

  ‘You bet!’ Susan felt her spirits lifting. As well as Lamby on the chair, there was a box of toys in the corner of the room. Two rather ugly china dogs stood on the mantelpiece. Left to herself, Susan would have taken them to a charity shop, but Jack loved them. The wine glasses shared the table with several play-doh animals that he’d made earlier. He’d been so proud of them that Susan hadn’t had the heart to tell him to scrunch them up and put them away. She had done away with the big fireguard when Jack had turned three, but the house was still unmistakable as the home of a small child. Generally, Susan would have felt awkward to have a guest over when the house was in such a mess, but Mandy was such a frequent visitor that Susan didn’t mind. Her friend had seen it, and her, in almost every state imaginable.

  As soon as Susan moved away from the fire, Sky edged her way towards it. Mandy was curled in the armchair with a glass of wine in one hand and Lamby on her knee.

  Susan lifted her own wine and sat down opposite.

  Mandy grinned at her and lifted her glass. ‘Here’s to us,’ she said.

  Susan lifted hers. ‘Cheers,’ she said, sipping her wine, which had a zesty lime flavour. Now she could see her friend clearly and she realised that Mandy was looking rather tired.

  ‘How’s your mum getting on?’ she asked. Only a few months ago, Mandy’s mum Emily had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Since then, Mandy had barely had any time to herself. Mandy’s parents, Emily and Adam, had run Animal Ark veterinary practice for years. When Mandy had come to join them a year and a half ago, it had seemed things at the Welford practice would settle down. But then Emily’s illness had struck and everything had shifted again.

  ‘She’s not too bad,’ Mandy said. She shifted slightly in her chair and hugged Lamby to her. ‘She’s not so dizzy any more and the headaches have stopped. She’s going to see the ophthalmologist next week for an assessment, but so far so good.’

  Susan watched as Mandy stretched out an arm and seemed to be trying to swallow a yawn. ‘Tired?’ she asked.

  Mandy laughed. ‘It’s worth it to see Mum so much better,’ she said, ‘but yes. With only me and Dad on the rota, the on-call nights come round so fast. We’ve a new vet starting soon, though, did you know?’ She yawned again and then grinned and shook her head. ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  Susan had heard the rumours, but nobody seemed to have any details. ‘So who’s your new vet then? Is it a new graduate?’ Animal Ark would be a nice practice for someone just starting out. The Hopes were such a nurturing family.

  ‘Actually no,’ Mandy said. ‘He’s been qualified a few years. We thought it’d be better to get someone with experience. That way, he can slot right into the rota. It’s still hard to stop Mum jumping in when things get busy, even though it was her decision to stop.’

  ‘Sounds like a good idea.’ Susan nodded. ‘So will you be having any time off at Christmas?’

  Mandy shrugged with one shoulder and shook her head. ‘Not a lot,’ she said. ‘Dad and I are sharing the rota, but Hope Meadows is nearly full.’ She paused for a moment to take a sip of her wine. ‘People are usually really nice, though, on Christmas Day. If I drank all the glasses of sherry I’m offered, I wouldn’t be fit to drive home, never mind calve a cow!’

  ‘What about Jimmy?’ Susan asked. ‘Are you and he doing anything special?’ Jimmy and Mandy had been together for more than a year now. Mandy had spent last Christmas with Jimmy at his old cottage, but now he had moved into Mandy’s newly refurbished cottage, Wildacre. This would be their first Christmas there.

  Mandy rolled her eyes, though her glance was humorous. ‘The twins are coming to stay,’ she said.

  ‘Oh! That’ll be lovely,’ Susan said, then with a smidgeon of doubt, ‘… will it?’ She knew that Mandy hadn’t had an easy time getting to know Jimmy’s children. Abi and Max had resented Mandy coming into their dad’s life, but recently things had been much better.

  Mandy sent her a look which was halfway between amusement and resignation. ‘I’m glad they’re coming,’ she said. ‘It’s wonderful now, really it is … but hosting Christmas is a big deal. I’m kind of nervous.’

  Susan laughed at Mandy’s expression. ‘Just be yourself and it’ll all be fine,’ she said and was pleased when Mandy returned her smile.

  ‘So what about you?’ Mandy said. ‘Apart from tonight, how’s the dating going?’

  Susan rolled her eyes this time. ‘I’m thinking of renaming the cottage “Spinster’s Paradise”.’

  Mandy chortled. ‘Is it that bad?’

  ‘Afraid so.’ Susan took another gulp of wine. ‘I’m starting to think this dating app thing isn’t for me. They’ve all been duds. And that’s just the ones I’ve met in person! There have been dozens more I couldn’t even bear to meet.’

  ‘But every bad date is a funny story for your next date, right?’ Mandy pressed. ‘Come on, tell me the latest ones.’

  Susan mused on this for a moment. It was true, she supposed. Some of them had been ridiculous enough to be funny, in hindsight. Even Freddie’s back-door escape would probably make her laugh one day. ‘Well then, let me tell you about Prince Tarquin from last week.’ She smiled at Mandy.

  Mandy almost spat out her wine. ‘Prince Tarquin? Tell me that wasn’t his real name.’

  Susan giggled. ‘The name is real but I added the title. Tarquin seemed to think we were still living in regency times. He arrived looking like something out of Pride and Prejudice, but with added eyeliner …’ She paused to show Mandy a picture on her phone. Mandy snorted.

  ‘So, you know I don’t judge by appearances. He could turn up dressed as a giant teapot if he was a nice guy, but then we started talking about work. I told him I worked in the nursery and he asked if I would be willing to give up work when I married, because “a married woman’s place is in the home”.’ Susan mimed air quotes.

  Mandy whistled. ‘How very historical of him.’

  Susan laughed. ‘That’s not all. When I took offence, he assured me he believed working in a nursery was a very respectable place to work, like that’s what was bothering me. Good practice for when I was a mother, he said. When I told him I was already a mother, thank you very much, I thought he’d explode. He stayed just long enough to splutter that he hadn’t thought I was “that kind
of woman”, and then he rushed out.’

  When she looked across at Mandy, her friend had lifted Lamby up and was cuddling him and grinning. ‘I guess you didn’t see him again?’ she said.

  ‘I did not!’ Susan snorted. ‘Still,’ she went on, ‘at least he wasn’t as bad as Stalkery Steve.’

  Mandy, who was taking a slug of wine, choked. For a minute she sat there spluttering, her eyes watering, but when she finally drew breath, she swallowed hard and shook her head with a grin. ‘Stalkery Steve?’ she said. ‘He sounds another real catch.’

  Susan rolled her eyes. ‘He seemed perfectly normal to begin with,’ she said. ‘Mostly anyway. He turned up with a hangover. I didn’t take much notice. Our date was on a Sunday. I just thought he’d got a bit carried away the night before. He seemed better after he’d had something to eat. I’d told him about Jack and he’d taken it quite well.’ She lifted a hand to rub her chin. ‘It was only later on, it got weird. He said he needed to go lie down. ’Cos of his hangover. I could “take care” of him, apparently. I suggested if he felt that bad, he should go lie down somewhere else, but he was insistent he wanted to come here.’

  Mandy’s eyes had opened wide. ‘You didn’t bring him did you?’

  Susan shook her head. ‘Course not,’ she said. But he didn’t want to take no for an answer. I walked out eventually: drove round until I was sure he wasn’t following. He called the next day to apologise and ask for another date. He was being all nice again. He called me loads of times. I just put the phone down. He seems to have stopped now, but I know I have to be careful.’ She sighed. ‘It’s not easy,’ she said. Her eyes wandered round the room, finishing on the fire. It was getting low. She pushed herself upright, poked the embers and threw on more coal. After a moment, the fire blazed up, sending flames up the chimney. Sky was lying on the rug and didn’t stir.

  Mandy’s gaze was thoughtful. There was sympathy in her eyes. ‘That sounds scary,’ she said.

  ‘It was a bit,’ Susan admitted. She’d kept her voice light as she’d told Mandy, but it had come close to putting her off dating. Especially with Jack being so young. His safety had to come before everything. ‘You know I told myself I was going to meet someone this year, and it just wasn’t happening naturally. I thought this online dating malarkey might help. But the year’s nearly over and I’m no further forward. I know I shouldn’t set deadlines, but I’m starting to think if I haven’t met anyone yet, it’s not going to happen.’

  Mandy reached forward and set her wine glass on the coffee table. She settled back in her chair, looking thoughtful. ‘It wasn’t easy at first with Jimmy. Having children does complicate things. But I’m sure there’ll be someone out there who’ll accept you for who you are.’ She put her head on one side and gave a half smile. ‘You’ll probably meet him when you least expect it. In the supermarket or something.’

  Susan grinned. ‘Knowing my luck, he’ll appear just as I’m reaching for a supersized pack of toilet roll.’

  Mandy laughed. ‘If he still likes you after that, you’ll know he’s a keeper!’ She lifted the wine bottle. ‘Top up?’

  Susan held out her glass and Mandy poured more wine. As she sat back in her chair, the phone in her pocket buzzed. She pulled it out. It was another match from LoveSpark. Douglas MacLeod. She glanced at his profile picture. He had wild red hair and a big bushy beard.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Mandy asked.

  Susan sighed. ‘Everything’s fine,’ she said. ‘It’s another LoveSpark match, but he’s not my type.’

  Mandy smiled, eyebrows raised. ‘Really? I thought you didn’t judge by appearances,’ she said, slyly. ‘Can I have a look?’

  ‘If you like.’ Susan handed over the phone. ‘I just don’t think I want to meet him. I’ve had enough.’

  Mandy gazed down at the phone. ‘It says he’s a children’s book illustrator,’ she said, looking up. ‘That sounds hopeful, doesn’t it? He must like children.’ She held out the phone.

  Susan grabbed the mobile and took another look at the profile. It did indeed say he was a children’s illustrator. Further down the page, there were pictures of his work. He seemed to like animals. She read his bio, which was self-deprecating and humorous.

  Although I may look like ‘Father Christmas before his hair went white’, as my nephew kindly puts it, I can assure you that the similarities end there. Except my job also revolves around making children happy, I do have a big laugh and I did get stuck in a chimney once, but that’s it, I swear.

  Susan laughed. She looked at the photo again. If she looked past the wild hair and beard, she saw he had strong cheekbones, a cheery grin and very piercing blue eyes. He was handsome, if unconventional. He might be fun.

  ‘What do you think?’ Mandy asked.

  Susan shrugged her shoulders, but she smiled. ‘I suppose I could give it one last go,’ she said. ‘What do you think I should write?’ She leaned forward so that Mandy could see, and together, they began to compose a message.

  Chapter Two

  Susan clapped her hands and gazed around the nursery classroom. ‘Tidy-up time!’ she called. ‘Bring your brushes and water to the sink, please, then take your paints to Nina.’ She glanced over at Nina, her classroom assistant, who was standing at the entrance to the big walk-in cupboard where the art equipment was stored. Nina was a small older woman, whose children were grown up. Her blue eyes were almost always filled with enthusiasm. ‘If you can sort the paints out, please, Nina?’

  Nina nodded, her smile widening. Chairs scraped all over the room and for a few minutes chaos reigned as the fifteen three- and four-year-olds who made up Susan’s class wove their way around the room with their water-filled yogurt pots, paints and brushes. The distinctive smell of poster paint hung in the air.

  ‘Don’t forget to wash your elbows,’ she reminded Christina. Christina Anderson was four and one of the liveliest children. Her cherubic face belied her tendency to create chaos wherever she went. As ever, she seemed to have paint right up to her armpits. The youngest child in the class walked over. His blond hair was tangled and he had a smudge of blue on his chin. He too held out his brush, a sweet smile lighting up his very round face. ‘Thank you, Neil,’ Susan said.

  Her son sidled up to her, poured his water in the sink and held out his pot to her. ‘Thank you, Jack,’ she said. She always made an effort to treat him exactly as she treated the others in class.

  ‘Now,’ she said, when they had all, finally, come to rest. ‘Can you all come and sit down in the story corner, please?’

  All the children, bar Christina, trotted obediently towards the story corner and sank to the floor cross-legged, as they had been taught. Susan looked over at Christina. ‘Are you coming, please, Christina?’ she said.

  ‘Can I go to the toilet?’ She was jiggling up and down.

  ‘May I go to the toilet, please?’ Susan reminded her. ‘Yes, you may go, but come straight back.’ Christina scurried away. Susan looked down at the children who made up Penguin class. They were, on the whole, well behaved. A few of them had started out in the baby room, but most had joined at three years old. It was a small nursery, based in a converted house near to the church. Susan’s classroom was at the front of the house. A big bay window looked out over the nursery garden, which at the moment was filled with fallen leaves. It was much more cheery indoors. The story corner was carpeted and surrounded on three sides with shelves filled with brightly coloured books.

  ‘We’re going to do something very exciting now,’ she said. ‘We’re going to learn all about caring for animals.’

  A few of the children’s eyes widened. Noah, three years old and wearing Harry-Potter style glasses, wriggled to his knees. ‘Will we learn about penguins, Miss?’ he shouted. There were a few giggles.

  ‘Don’t forget to put up your hand, Noah,’ Susan reminded him. ‘Not penguins, but lots of other animals. We’re going to visit Hope Meadows rescue centre.’

  There was an outburst of cha
tter. Christina rushed back into the room and got down, but only to a crouch. Herbie Dhanjal, lively as ever in her brightly coloured kurta, made as if to stand up.

  ‘Sit down, please,’ Susan commanded and they quietened immediately. She was pleased they were so excited, but she knew she had to keep their enthusiasm on a tight rein. ‘The lady who looks after the rescue centre is a vet. Does anyone know what a vet does?’

  Forty-five minutes later, the children walked in a crocodile formation out of the gate and turned onto the track that led through the fields. Susan walked at the front of the class and Nina brought up the rear. Clouds chased across the sky overhead. The air was fresh on Susan’s face and she could feel it tugging at her ponytail. The row of trees on the far side of the stone wall were moving, their bare branches swaying with each gust. Luckily the rain, which had fallen all through lunchtime, had stopped.

  Mandy was waiting for them at the door. She was wearing a set of dark-blue scrubs, and as often happened, her working clothes were stippled with animal hair. She glanced at the orderly crocodile and grinned at Susan. ‘Hello, everyone,’ she said.

  Susan was pleased to see how much at home she was in front of the children. When Mandy had first come back to Welford, she’d seemed almost frightened of Jack. Now, even with fifteen pairs of young eyes on her, she looked cool and collected. ‘Welcome to Hope Meadows! We’re going to see lots of animals,’ Mandy said. ‘It’s really important when we go in that you’re quiet. Some of the animals haven’t been treated very well before they came here. A few of them are really shy. Does everybody understand?’ Fifteen attentive heads nodded. Mandy seemed to have them all under a spell.

  Susan’s eyes wandered over the attractive building, which was built of stone, wood and glass. In winter, from a distance, it seemed almost to merge into the landscape. Mandy and her parents had built it together just over a year ago. As the class walked into the reception area, a few of the children gasped. It was a welcoming room with huge wooden beams and an enormous window that looked out onto the fellside. Susan had been bringing Jack here ever since Mandy had opened her doors to all the unwanted and unloved animals in the area, but now she saw it afresh. It must be lovely for Mandy, looking out every day at that view, she thought.