by Lucy Daniels
Mandy looked around. Nobody seemed interested. She looked down at her salad, but she was no longer hungry. Simon was tucking into his dinner, quaffing his wine as if nothing was wrong. Mandy reached out her hand for her glass, picked it up. The bone-dry wine caught in her throat, but she swallowed it down and took another gulp.
Simon cleared his plate as efficiently as he performed surgery. As soon as he had finished, he called to the waitress and asked for the bill.
‘Was everything okay?’ said the young woman, looking in concern at Mandy’s plate.
Mandy felt her cheeks go scarlet. She and Simon had been in here a thousand times and had never left without having dessert. Tonight her dinner was almost untouched.
‘It was absolutely fine, thank you very much.’ Simon slipped the waitress a twenty-pound note. Maybe, Mandy thought mutinously, if he didn’t fritter away so much money, he would have saved enough to buy a clinic on his own.
There was silence in the taxi on the way home. Several times, Mandy caught the driver’s curious eyes checking them in the mirror. She wanted to speak, but if Simon hadn’t wanted to talk in front of the diners, he wouldn’t want to share his thoughts with the driver either. When they pulled up outside Simon’s house, he climbed out, paid the driver, and waved him off in a voice that sounded so normal Mandy wondered how he could be so calm. He stalked up the path to the front door and unlocked it, ushering her inside politely and taking her coat. Maybe now they could talk, Mandy hoped. Now they had some privacy.
‘Would you like me to make you a drink?’ she asked. ‘We could both have some tea? Or hot chocolate?’ She needed something soothing. Her stomach felt both empty and sick. She took a step towards the kitchen, but when she looked back, Simon was still standing just inside the door. His face was unreadable.
‘Obviously, there’s a lot to talk about,’ he said, ‘but I’m tired. I want to go to bed. If you want to continue this discussion, it’ll have to be tomorrow.’
Mandy felt her breath leave her body. How could he think about sleep? Without another word, he hung up his jacket and walked up the stairs, his footsteps slow and deliberate. Mandy toyed for a moment with the idea of following him. There was no way she wanted to leave this discussion for the morning. What was it Grandad had always told her? ‘Never go to sleep on an argument.’ That had been one of the mainstays of his long and blissful marriage, he had told her.
But there had been a cold certainty to Simon’s words. If she went up and insisted on talking now, would he listen? Her ears strained to hear his movements. Maybe he would think better and come back.
Long moments passed. With a sigh, Mandy took herself into the kitchen and made a cup of tea. If she let him sleep on it, perhaps in the morning he would be more willing to consider what she wanted. It wasn’t as if it was only for her. It was for both of them.
Picking up her mug, she carried it through to the sitting room. There was a pile of brochures for medical equipment on the table along with a fresh stack of estate agents’ files. Pushing them aside, Mandy put her mug on a coaster. The blinds were open and she hadn’t bothered to switch on the light. Outside, her RAV4 stood under a streetlamp, looking out of place with its mud splashes and smeared windscreen. Mandy pressed her hands into her eyes. If Hope Meadows was such a wonderful idea, why was it causing so much trouble?
Taking out her mobile, she checked her messages, but there was nothing new. Opening Google, she typed in ‘Commercial Properties York’. If she could find somewhere suitable for a clinic, maybe Simon would take her suggestion more seriously. But most of the properties for sale seemed to be guesthouses or restaurants. The few shops seemed to be being sold as ‘going concerns’. It would be madness to dismantle a profitable business to set up a new one. Even the prices were difficult to compare to those Simon had shown her before. Lots of them included accommodation, though that would probably be an advantage if one of them wanted to do night calls for their city clients. But would that mean they’d end up living separately, one in York and one in Welford?
What was the point, she thought? Simon hadn’t given any indication he would even think about it. Why did staying in Leeds matter so much to him anyway? Giving up, Mandy drank the last of her tea and went upstairs.
Simon was snoring. How could he drift off so easily after this evening? She considered sleeping on the sofa downstairs, then pushed the thought away. She didn’t need to start tomorrow by making Simon feel rejected. Maybe, if she could get some sleep, they would both wake up feeling better. Crawling into bed, she lay on her back beside him. Outside in the street a car drew up, waited a while then drove off again. In the distance a siren howled. As dawn started to colour the sky beyond the curtains, Mandy fell into an uneasy sleep.
She awoke to the scent of coffee. Opening her eyes, she saw the bed beside her was empty. Simon was already up. Getting out of bed, she dressed more carefully than usual. She left last night’s shirt on the back of the chair, selecting another of her favourites from the wardrobe, a creamy white silk mix with a ruffled collar. It was dressier than she would have normally selected for a Saturday with Simon, but she wanted to make an effort. She had to give herself as much confidence as possible. Making her way downstairs, she pulled herself straight and walked into the sitting room.
Simon was sitting in an armchair, holding one of the estate agents’ brochures. When Mandy appeared, he stood up and crossed the room. ‘Would you like some coffee?’ he asked, indicating a tray on the sideboard. He poured her a cup.
‘Come and sit down.’ He led her to the sofa. ‘I am sorry I was too tired to talk last night,’ he said. ‘I was all set for a quiet evening and I’d already set up some visits to some of the properties today. I was looking forward to telling you about them. You did rather spring it on me that you were thinking about backing out.’ He lowered his head slightly, then looked back up. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time researching the properties we’re seeing today.’
Mandy stared at him. ‘I’m not thinking about backing out,’ she insisted. ‘I was trying to find a way we could both achieve what we want.’
‘But we’ve been discussing our clinic for ages,’ Simon objected. ‘We’ve only ever talked about Leeds. We know Leeds. We’ve worked here together and I’ve already put a lot of work into our project.’
Mandy didn’t know what to say.
‘I’ve booked two appointments.’ Simon picked up the pile of property details and shuffled them. ‘Even if you aren’t sure, wouldn’t you like to go look at them? Have a read of this one.’ He held out the listing, which had a photograph of a modern brick and glass building. ‘It’s on an industrial estate so there’s plenty of parking. And then there was this one.’ This time, the photo showed a more old-fashioned shop front. ‘It’s been used as a training centre recently,’ he said, ‘so there are already customer toilets and tiled floors.’
Mandy wasn’t sure how to react. She was glad he no longer seemed angry and dismissive, as he had the night before, but he still didn’t seem to be listening. She flipped through the brochure. It seemed to be mostly details about square footage with very few photographs. ‘How do you know about the tiled floors?’ she asked with a frown.
Simon held out his hand for the papers and she handed them to him. ‘I’ve already been for a preliminary look,’ he said. ‘That’s how we whittled it down to these two. The others weren’t suitable. One was too small and the other had nowhere to park. So, what do you think?’
‘Who’s “we”?’ Mandy asked. Presumably it had been Simon and the estate agent. Not that she knew why he had started to look anyway. Hadn’t she been clear enough when she had asked him not to push on too far? Then again, she recalled with a stab of disquiet, she had been speaking to an architect about her own plans. Maybe they were both guilty of not discussing things.
‘Samantha came with me.’ Simon’s reply jolted her back.
‘Samantha?’ The sick feeling from last night had returned.
‘She on
ly went in your place, Mandy.’ Simon’s eyes flicked onto hers. ‘I wanted a second opinion. A woman’s opinion, you know.’
A picture of last night leaped into Mandy’s mind: Simon grinning up at Samantha, small and stylish in her blouse. ‘Shove up, Si!’ Pushing herself in.
Mandy’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, intending to switch it off, but it was Seb Conway’s number. What on earth could Seb want?
‘I need to take this,’ she said, and standing up, she went into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.
‘Seb?’
‘Mandy!’ He sounded tense. ‘I know it’s your weekend off, but something’s come up. We’ve had a report about a cruelty case in Welford. Neglected animals. I need an official veterinary surgeon with me before I can carry out the inspection. We’re probably going to have to enter the property without permission.’
‘Okay,’ said Mandy. Her heart started to beat faster. Animal cruelty in Welford? Who could it be?
Seb was speaking again. ‘The police will be involved as well. I thought I’d give you a call first but if you can’t come, I can take one of your parents …’
‘I’m glad you called,’ Mandy told him, ‘and I will come, but I’m down in Leeds. It’ll take me a couple of hours to get back.’ Even as she said it, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of disappointment. If Seb needed help, if there were problems in Welford, she wanted to be there. ‘You probably won’t have time to wait.’
‘Actually, it will take about that long for us to get everything set up for the raid,’ he replied. ‘We need to get a warrant. It’s up at Lamb’s Wood. Lamb’s Wood Cottage, belonging to a Mr Robbie Grimshaw. Do you know it?’
Mandy started to feel breathless. Robbie Grimshaw! ‘I’ve been there recently,’ she said. ‘We had a report of some neglected sheep but couldn’t find anything.’
‘I know. Your mum called me about it, actually. I visited the farm but Mr Grimshaw seemed reluctant to let me look around.’ Mandy could imagine the scene had not been as unemotional as Seb’s words suggested. Mr Grimshaw had seemed agitated enough when she and Emily had turned up.
‘I’ll come as soon as I can,’ she said. ‘Where should I meet you?’
‘We’ll be in the car park below Monkton Spinney on the Welford Road. We’ll expect you in two hours, okay?’
Mandy ended the call, her heart pounding. There was no time to lose, she thought. If there was traffic, if she was held up …
‘Simon!’ She burst into the sitting room.
Simon stood up quickly. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m really sorry,’ she told him. ‘I have to go back to Welford. There’s an emergency. I’m sorry about the visits today.’
‘What’s happened?’ Simon was frowning.
‘It’s Robbie Grimshaw,’ Mandy said. ‘You remember I told you Mum and I visited him? Seb Conway is organising a raid on his farm. I need to be there. Poor old man. I think he’s unwell, but there are animals there, too …’ She trailed off. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, ‘but I have to go. I know we need to get this stuff sorted out. Do you want to come with me?’
‘I don’t see how I could help,’ Simon said. ‘They won’t need to be over-run with vets at this stage. Do you really have to go? Couldn’t someone else do it?’
Mandy couldn’t help but feel guilty. A few weeks ago, Seb would have called her parents, but now she felt it was her responsibility. After all, he knew about her plans for the rescue centre. Why wouldn’t she want to deal with some neglected animals when they most needed help?
‘Seb probably could find another vet,’ she admitted to Simon. ‘But this is something I really want to do.’ She looked at him for a moment, hoping he would change his mind and come, but he just stood there, looking at her.
‘I’ll have to go,’ she said. Her actions automatic, she reached over to give him a kiss.
Simon turned his head so that her lips brushed his cheek. ‘Call me later,’ he said, and without looking back, Mandy headed out and started the car.
Chapter Fifteen
Before she had reached the M1, Mandy realised she was still dressed in her city clothes, but it was too late to go back. All the same, she eased her foot off the accelerator. It wouldn’t help anyone if she crashed on the way to Lamb’s Wood.
The traffic wasn’t too bad, only a bit slow past the main exits for York, but the journey took ten minutes over the two hours Mandy had promised. By the time she arrived in the Monkton Spinney car park, there was only one police car left. Climbing out, she jogged over. There was a female officer in the driver’s seat.
‘Seb Conway called me out,’ Mandy explained, leaning down and speaking through the open window. ‘I’m Amanda Hope, the vet.’
‘I’m Ellen,’ the officer said. ‘I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been asked to take you up as soon as you arrive. Things look a bit more dangerous than we expected. We believe Mr Grimshaw has a shotgun. So far, he hasn’t come out of the house.’
Mandy felt the breath go out of her body. Despite the wave of fear that passed through her, she couldn’t help feeling the farmer must be even more frightened. Poor old man. The Robbie Grimshaw she remembered had been gruff and wily, but he had loved his animals. This degree of hostility had to be a sign of illness. Walking to the other side of the police car, she sat in the passenger seat.
‘I’ll need you to put this on.’ The constable handed her a bullet-proof vest. Feeling numb, Mandy slid her arms in, pulled up the zip and closed the Velcro fastening, then put her seat belt on. ‘All set?’
‘All set,’ Mandy replied. Her heart thudded inside the rigid vest. Nothing in her training had warned her about the possibility of being shot!
Ellen spoke into her radio. ‘Amanda Hope, the veterinary surgeon, has arrived. We’re on our way up,’ she announced.
The rutted, overgrown track through Lamb’s Wood seemed longer than ever, but finally they emerged from the trees and pulled up at the farmyard gate. They were met by another officer, also wearing protective clothing.
‘How are things?’ Ellen asked.
‘Not good,’ he replied. ‘Mr Grimshaw came out of the house a couple of minutes ago. Seems he exited by the back door, directly into the farmyard, where there are several animals. He has a shotgun and is threatening anyone who comes near. Chief Inspector Benn is there, but Mr Grimshaw seems to be getting more agitated.’ From around the corner, Mandy could hear shouting.
‘Put it down!’ Then again, ‘Put the gun down, Mr Grimshaw!’
Before Ellen could say anything, Mandy scrambled out of the car, gasping as the vest dug into her abdomen. She pushed past the broken gate and headed for the yard.
When she rounded the corner, she wasn’t surprised that Robbie Grimshaw was getting wound up. He was standing foursquare in the centre of the yard, the long black barrel of his shotgun shaking in his hands. At his heels, the dog he had called Shy was showing her teeth and growling. Her ears lay flat against her head. Behind them two sheep cowered at the back of a pen. A third lay panting in the corner and an ancient-looking horse, gaunt-faced and with protruding ribs, was tied to a post. From the worn pathway around the pole, it had been tied there for a while.
Several police officers stood in a phalanx of white shirts and black flak jackets at the entrance to the yard. Two of them held riot shields, which Mandy thought was ridiculous. Were they expecting to be stampeded by sheep? There was no sign of Seb Conway.
‘Amanda, wait!’ Ellen panted, running up to join her. ‘You can’t put yourself in danger!’
‘Can I talk to him?’ Mandy whispered, without taking her eyes off Robbie. ‘I know him. Maybe I can get through to him.’
‘Better just stay back,’ Ellen replied, but the old man was so obviously petrified, that Mandy could stand it no longer.
‘Mr Grimshaw.’ She stepped forward. ‘Robbie.’ For a moment, the barrel moved in her direction, but when one of the police officers stepped forward, it swung back to the
group. As one, the police officers raised their hands.
‘No need to shoot anyone, Mr Grimshaw,’ said Chief Inspector Benn. Mandy recognised him from when he had been Sergeant Benn, a familiar face in Welford during her childhood. ‘We’re only here to help.’
Mandy walked closer to the farmer so she didn’t have to shout. ‘I don’t know if you remember me, Mr Grimshaw. I’m Mandy Hope. I came here years ago. You showed me your ferrets.’ There was no sign that the old man had heard. Mandy took a deep breath. ‘Their names were Kirsty, Marlon and Sable. You gave me Kirsty to hold, do you remember?’ Her hands were shaking, but her voice was steady. ‘We went to Lydia Fawcett’s to save some rabbits. You helped us.’
And now the farmer’s eyes had swivelled her way.
‘Lydia?’ When his voice came, it sounded like a creaking door that hadn’t been used for years.
‘Yes, Lydia. Do you remember? You used to dance with her? You came and helped her with her rabbits. And now we want to help you, Robbie.’
‘Help? They want to take my animals away!’ The voice was fierce.
‘We only want to help them.’ Very slowly, Mandy took another step towards the old man. ‘Like we helped the rabbits. Lydia’s rabbits. Can you put the gun down, Robbie?’ From the corner of her eye, she saw the black and white collie flit away and disappear in the direction of the house.
‘Mandy Hope?’ he rasped. ‘Met your father once when my Kirsty was sick.’
Mandy’s ears strained to hear what he was saying. If Robbie recalled her father, that had to be a positive sign. He wouldn’t shoot Adam Hope’s daughter, would he? She took another step. One of the policemen hissed something under his breath behind her but she ignored him.
‘Can you put the gun down?’ she asked. ‘Please, Mr Grimshaw?’
‘My Kirsty …’ A tear fell from the old man’s eye. The gun swung down until it was pointing at the cracked concrete.