Chapter 17
Evan’s home was an attractive semi-detached house with a large front garden and a drive, down a pretty street in Millensea.
Mac pushed open the gate and took a steadying breath before heading towards the front door. He couldn’t help wondering if he was imposing on the vet. What had he been thinking, inviting himself round for tea?
Well, he hadn’t really. That had been Evan’s idea. But it had been Mac who’d called him, wanting to chat. He couldn’t believe he’d done that now.
It had been because of Seb. He’d gone for a stroll up to the church early on Sunday morning, wanting to wander around the churchyard, look at the inscriptions on the gravestones – and make another attempt to decipher most of them – and sit on the bench and gather his thoughts.
He liked to go out early, and as soon as he’d fed the animals and seen to their needs he’d left Watersmeet and headed out.
He hadn’t expected to meet anyone. The road was always so quiet anyway, but at this time of the morning it was rare to see people out and about. But to his surprise, as he turned into the gateway of St Helen’s, he saw someone coming out of it.
The two men had paused, staring at each other for a moment.
‘Seb?’ Mac’s uncertainty gave way to delight, and he reached out a hand to his former schoolfriend. ‘It is you! How are you?’
Stupid question. He only had to look at Seb to see that he wasn’t good. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and he looked pale and gaunt, like he wasn’t eating properly and hadn’t seen daylight for a while.
Seb shook his hand limply. ‘Ian. I heard you were back.’
‘Mac,’ he said immediately. It was almost a reflex now. ‘I’m called Mac now, not Ian.’
Seb just shrugged. ‘Well, nice to see you.’ He held the gate open for Mac. ‘You going in there?’
‘Yes. It’s a good place to think in peace, isn’t it?’
Seb turned to look back at the church. ‘Aye. It is.’
Mac frowned. ‘Your wife’s not…’ Stupid question. There’d been no burials in this churchyard for decades.
Seb shook his head. ‘No. She was cremated. What she wanted.’
They stood in awkward silence until Mac said gently, ‘I’m sorry to hear about her, Seb. It’s a crying shame.’
‘Aye,’ his old friend agreed.
Mac couldn’t believe this was the same young lad who’d been so full of fun and mischief.
Seb had never bullied him, had never mocked him for doing all his homework on time, studying hard for exams and refusing to join some of the other boys in the toilets for a crafty smoke each break.
Although Seb had messed around in class and hadn’t been above a crafty smoke himself, he’d just accepted Mac for who he was, and Mac would be forever grateful to him.
It was heartbreaking to see the haunted look on his old friend’s face now.
‘You know I’m back at Watersmeet permanently,’ he said, hearing the words as he said them and marvelling at how he’d got to this position. ‘I’m just across the road from you. You’d be very welcome any time you fancy popping round for a drink and a chat. I did tell Sam.’
‘Aye, he mentioned.’ Seb nodded. ‘Thanks.’
‘Okay…’
‘I don’t go out much,’ Seb muttered. ‘I’m not good around people these days.’
‘You don’t have to entertain me, Seb,’ Mac told him. ‘You can sit there and say nothing at all if you like. It’s just good to get out of the house sometimes, isn’t it? I know I could do with some company.’
‘Aye, well.’ Seb dug his hands in his coat pocket. ‘I’ll think about it. See you, Ian—Mac.’
He’d walked away before Mac could say anything else, and as he’d stared after the clearly broken man, Mac had realised Seb had sunk so low that it was going to take a hell of a lot of time and patience to bring him back – and only then if Seb wanted to be brought back, which was by no means certain.
It had got Mac thinking about what Evan had said. ‘You mustn’t be alone, Mac. Someone in your position – you need people to talk to. If you need a listening ear, I’m here. You understand?’
He was right. Whatever happened, he couldn’t allow himself to wallow alone at Watersmeet.
He’d made a start, inviting Alison and Rosie round, but they were busy people and had lives of their own.
He needed more than just the two of them.
And Evan had made it very clear that he would be there for him if he needed him.
So Mac had rung the vet up and had been relieved when Evan sounded delighted to hear from him.
‘Come for your tea,’ he’d told him. ‘We’re free on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday this week. Whichever suits best.’
‘Tuesday would be best,’ Mac said. ‘I need to go shopping in Millensea anyway, so I could pop to the supermarket after I’ve been to yours. I’m running out of everything.’
‘Tuesday then, after surgery. Come and meet the wife. She loves having someone to cook for. She’s always telling me I don’t appreciate her efforts and she’s probably right. I’m just as happy with egg and chips.’
Mac laughed. ‘Thank you. I’ll see you on Tuesday. About six?’
Now, as he rang the doorbell, he could feel his legs shaking with nerves, which was ridiculous. Trouble was, he was so out of practice at living a normal life, doing normal things. It had been a week and a half since Alison and Rosie had visited him, and he was only just recovering from that!
The door was opened by a tall woman with dark hair and a welcoming smile.
‘You must be Mac! Come in, love. I hope you’re hungry, I’ve made enough to feed the five thousand.’ She ushered him into a wide hallway and called up the stairs, ‘Evan! Our guest’s arrived.’
‘Well, put ’kettle on then,’ came the reply.
The woman rolled her eyes. ‘All charm, isn’t he?
Come through to the front room. I’m Tricia, by the way.
Evan’s better half if you hadn’t already guessed.
’ She laughed and led him into a sizeable front room, separated from a dining room by an arch.
There were fireplaces in both rooms, but both had been blocked up and the open fires replaced by modern gas fires.
A large table was laid for tea, with three place settings on the spotless white tablecloth.
‘Take a seat. Tea or coffee?’
‘Whatever you’re making,’ Mac said, finding it impossible not to warm to this friendly, approachable woman.
‘Well, Evan only drinks Yorkshire Tea, and I only drink Maister’s own-brand decaffeinated coffee, so there you have it.
Incompatible in every detail and always have been.
No wonder my mother only gave us a year.
’ She chuckled. ‘Had our ruby wedding anniversary three years ago, so what did she know? So, tea or coffee?’
Mac found he was smiling. ‘Tea, please. One sugar. Just a splash of milk.’
‘Coming right up. His lordship won’t be a minute. He’s just soaking off the remnants of another day.’ She winked and hurried through to the dining room, which he realised was connected to the kitchen.
He settled back in the sofa and gazed around him, noting the family photographs on the mantelpiece and walls.
Children of varying ages and from different eras, wedding photographs, a family portrait.
He realised he knew nothing about Evan at all, but it was clear he was a family man through and through.
He felt a pang of envy for the vet’s perfect life.
‘Well, you made it then.’ Evan’s booming voice interrupted his thoughts, and he half got to his feet in greeting before he was told not to bother.
‘We don’t stand on ceremony here,’ Evan assured him.
‘Just make yourself comfy. Home from home. What a day I’ve had!
Cats are the very devil, you know. I’d rather face a charging bull than a cat in a temper.
And a very young tortoise! I mean, how are you supposed to know what’s wrong with a tortoise?
They only have one expression, and how am I meant to examine it? Do I use a tin opener?’
He chortled, just as Tricia arrived with a tray of drinks. ‘Take no notice of him,’ she told Mac. ‘You’d never believe it from the way he talks but he’s a marvel with animals. And he’s very fond of tortoises. Used to have them when you were a kid, didn’t you, Evan?’
Evan sighed. ‘I did, but that was back in the days before we knew how cruel it was to keep them the way we did. They need specialist care, you know. Not shoving in a garden and left to fend for themselves and then put away in a cardboard box for the winter and forgotten about. Do you know,’ he said, leaning forward, ‘not all species of tortoise hibernate? And they should be over three years old before they’re put away for the winter anyway?
And,’ he added, nodding his head furiously, ‘they should be checked over by a vet first. And that’s not all! ’
‘Yes, yes,’ Tricia said, rolling her eyes. ‘But it’s quite enough for now, thank you very much. I’m sure Mac doesn’t want to know about tortoise hibernation.’
‘Hmm.’ Evan hitched up his glasses with a sigh. ‘I suppose not. Got enough on his plate with his own animals, eh?’
‘Ooh,’ Tricia said, settling herself beside Mac on the sofa. ‘I’ve heard all about your little menagerie. Evan tells me you have Highland cattle. How marvellous! They’re so beautiful, aren’t they? I’ve got quite a thing for them myself, haven’t I, Evan?’
Evan groaned. ‘Haven’t you just!’ He shook his head.
‘I’m not kidding, Mac. Highland cow tea towels, Highland cow mugs, Highland cow letter rack, even a bloody Highland cow teabag rest, and she doesn’t even use teabags!
I’m surrounded by them. What is it with people, anyway?
Why do they feel the need to buy all this stuff?
Bet most of them would run a mile if they saw a real one coming towards them. ’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Mac said, ‘but I reckon if they knew how much looking-after these animals take they’d not be so keen.’
‘Are you finding it hard going?’ Tricia asked sympathetically. ‘It must take some getting used to, especially when you’re not used to having animals.’