Chapter 8
‘She’ll be fine with a few days resting quietly in the barn,’ Brodie said, patting the brown fur on the Jersey cow’s back lightly before picking up his medical bag.
‘That’s a relief. Thank you for coming so soon, Brodie.’ The farmer accompanied him outside. ‘It’s good to know we have new blood here. Old Man Winter wanted to retire for a few years but was determined to find someone he trusted to take over his practice first, and I think it got a bit too much for him in the end.’
Brodie hadn’t realised that was the case. ‘Thank you for the compliment.’
‘It’s true, lad. He insisted he wouldn’t go and leave us with some nitwit who didn’t have the same feel for the work as himself. We were all very grateful to him for that.’
‘I’m glad to know you’re happy that I’ve taken over the practice.’
‘I am, now I’ve seen you in action.’
Brodie smiled as he accompanied the farmer back to his Land Rover. He liked the man’s honesty. Not that it was unexpected. Most farmers he had come across since qualifying three years before were direct and didn’t spare his feelings, but he liked that. It meant he always knew where he stood with them. If there was one thing to unnerve him it was having to second-guess someone’s feelings. His thoughts went to Lettie.
‘Bloody hell, I wonder what’s happened now.’
Brodie followed the farmer’s gaze and saw someone cycling down the driveway. The person got off the bike, resting it against the wall by the farmhouse and took off their helmet. Seeing the long, wavy chestnut-coloured hair being freed from the confines of the helmet as the cyclist shook her head slowly, he recognised Lettie. Brodie’s breath caught in his throat. She was so pretty, in a fresh-faced way.
‘Lettie! Over here,’ the farmer bellowed. ‘Come and meet our new vet.’
Lettie looked up and smiled as she raised her hand in a wave. Then, seeming to notice Brodie, her expression froze for a few seconds.
He wondered why she seemed so surprised to see him there, then it dawned on him that the farmer must be her uncle. Why hadn’t he realised it before? Because Bethan’s writing was rather messy and he hadn’t been able to make out the surname, and the man he had thought of as Len must be Leonard.
Not wishing to interrupt Lettie’s conversation with her uncle, he went with him to meet her. ‘Good to see you again,’ Brodie said, wishing he had thought of something a little less nondescript.
‘Hi. I hadn’t realised this was the client you were visiting.’
‘Ah, so you two already know each other.’ Her uncle leant forward and kissed her forehead. ‘He’s a good lad, this one.’ He patted Brodie’s back.
‘Your uncle is very kind.’
Lettie smiled affectionately at her uncle. ‘Uncle Leonard is also honest and wouldn’t say anything he didn’t mean.’
‘That’s good to know.’ Brodie looked at Leonard. ‘I’ll leave the two of you. My secretary will get an invoice to you, and I’ll come back in a few days to check on the cow. In the meantime, please don’t hesitate to call the practice if you have any concerns at all.’
‘I won’t. Thanks again for coming.’
‘Bye, Lettie. Good to see you again.’ Brodie wasn’t sure if her cheeks had reddened slightly or if they were pink from the exertion of her cycle ride.
‘Thanks, likewise.’
Not wishing to outstay his welcome, Brodie left them to their discussion. As he drove, he wondered if Lettie knew what she was letting herself in for by taking over her parents’ farm. He had never worked on one himself, but he had visited enough and knew for certain that farmers worked extremely long and tiring hours. He hoped she wasn’t acting on impulse. He would hate for someone as lovely as Lettie to regret giving up her life in London and not being able to return to it if her plans for the farm didn’t work out. Then again, he mused, if they did work out it meant she would be staying on the island. That idea he loved.
He arrived back at the practice hoping to have a couple of hours to start unpacking the tiny cottage that came with the business. He thought it characterful and pretty when he had first seen it, and it was, from the outside. Inside though it was desperately needing an update. After manoeuvring past his bright blue surfboard propped up against the narrow hall wall, he reached the kitchen. It was an ugly space with little to endear it to anyone, Brodie had often thought, amused. It had two lower cupboards with open shelves above and a porcelain sink with a crack along the bottom that so far hadn’t leaked. The fridge barely worked and the lino was worn and a trip hazard. The small living room wasn’t much better, or much bigger, but the two-seater sofa and one armchair that just about fitted in there were fine for him. At least the fireplace worked well enough. There was one bedroom upstairs and a bathroom tagged on at the back of the kitchen.
‘Nothing a lick of paint can’t brighten up,’ he had said, unsure whether it would be enough. It would have to do for now though. Brodie knew he was luckier than most to have been given a loan from his grandfather to use as a deposit, which enabled him to take on a large bank loan for his business. It was going to take him years before he managed to break even, let alone be able to treat himself to anything, but he didn’t care. This was what he had always dreamed of doing. Maybe not coming back to Jersey, but when he hadn’t found a practice near his adopted home in Devon, and a friend had pointed out the advert for this place, everything had somehow fallen into place.
It was meant to be. At least that’s what he told himself. Brodie went upstairs to unpack another box of books. It would have been nicer to know more people on the island, but a lot of his friends from school had moved away or were now settled down, or travelling. Having his own group of friends like he had built up while living in Devon, or back when he was at university was what he missed now. Someone to meet up with at the pub at the end of a long day. He thought of his surfboard, taking up too much space in the narrow hallway, and thought how good it would be to meet other surfers. That’s what he would do the next free evening when the tide was right. He would take his board down to the beach at St Ouen’s and spend a few happy hours ridding himself of all his worries and stresses in the surf.
He hadn’t surfed since his arrival. There hadn’t been time. But he would have to make time going forward. Anyway, Brodie decided, it would be good to meet other like-minded people. And there were several places along the five-mile stretch of bay where he could treat himself to a meal afterwards. He had driven that way a few times on his way to or from visiting clients and often saw the car parks at least half filled with cars. He needed to settle in as soon as possible. He thought of Zac and Lettie and wondered if maybe meeting them earlier had reminded him how much he missed having familiar faces around him.
‘Brodie! Are you there?’
Bethan called to him from the front door.
‘Yes,’ he said leaving his room and going to the top of the stairs to see what was wrong. ‘Do you need me for something?’ It was a stupid question. Why else would she come to the cottage and call for him?
She stared at him without speaking for a moment. ‘Oh yes, sorry. There’s a lady on the phone with a dog she thinks might be in labour. She’s in a bit of a panic and asked that you go to her house immediately and check that everything is all right.’
Happy to have something to keep him busy, Brodie nodded. ‘Tell her I’ll be there in…’ He realised he didn’t know where he was going or how long it would take. ‘Where does she live?’
‘Not far,’ Bethan said waiting for him to join her. ‘Her place is only about ten minutes from here. I’ll give you the instructions before you go.’