Chapter 2
Chapter Two
‘Coffee,’ said Bets, handing the mug over to her boss, Devon, realising that her hand was shaking a little.
After a – thankfully – hectic morning, she needed all the distraction she could get.
They were grabbing a quick drink at the start of the two-hour break between morning and afternoon consultations.
Taking a sip of her own too-hot coffee, she eyed him warily, wondering when he might mention that his brother was home.
Stiffening her spine, she tried to manifest an air of indifference.
There was absolutely no reason for Jack to inform her of his movements.
Absolutely none. Not anymore. Although, she thought, responding to her internal despair, it would have been nice to get a heads-up.
Behind her back, she crossed the fingers on one hand.
Please let this just be a flying visit. Why else would he be here?
He’d told her when he’d broken up with her – yes, when he’d broken up with her – that he’d stay in Bristol for the foreseeable future.
Which, to be honest, had possibly been the only thing that had got her this far.
Not having to see him or face him meant she could pretend that nothing had really changed. She hadn’t even had to tell anyone.
‘Lifesaver,’ said Devon cupping the coffee between his hands. ‘I don’t know where this morning has gone.’
‘I do,’ said Bets with a loud huff, delighted with herself for sounding so normal when inside her feelings were as dried up and arid as the Sahara Desert. ‘It never ceases to amaze me that an animal as small as a guinea pig can produce so much liquid from both ends.’
She gave Devon a blinding, Oscar-worthy rueful smile as dictated by the situation.
Not that she was complaining. Keeping busy kept her sane, especially today.
Had Doris got it right? Despite the hectic morning, every time the door to the treatment room opened with its characteristic squeak, her pulse had notched up.
No one seemed to have noticed how jumpy she was this morning.
‘Poor little thing,’ replied Devon. ‘Goodness knows what he’d eaten but it did not agree with him.
I’ve let the owner know she can come and collect him tomorrow morning.
Are you sure you’re okay to have him overnight for observation?
’ He frowned slightly because he knew it was above and beyond her remit.
‘’Course I am,’ said Bets, stalwartly. As if she’d refuse.
Growing up with a mother who had an advanced degree in pissing off her bosses and everyone around her had taught Bets some valuable lessons.
Not that Bets could stop herself offering to help an animal.
‘Poor little fella,’ she said, remembering the woebegone piebald guinea pig shuddering on the examination table.
‘We need to get some fluids down him at regular intervals. Not sure what we’d do without you. Thanks again.’
Footsteps thundered up the staircase and Bets looked up, unease fluttering again.
‘Devon.’ Margaret, the receptionist, appeared in the kitchen doorway. ‘There’s an emergency out at the Winterbourne stables. One of the mares has caught herself on some barbed wire. It’s sounds bad. Are you able to go over?’
Devon glanced at his watch. ‘Perfect timing. I’ll grab a sandwich on my way back. Would you mind taking Tess and Dexter out?’ He pulled a face. ‘Sorry to ask, especially as you’re on guinea-pig duty tonight as well.’
‘Devon, it’s fine,’ Bets reassured him. ‘I don’t mind taking the dogs out. It’s hardly a chore. And as for looking after Henry the guinea pig, giving him two-hourly feeds during the night, you can make it up to me another time.’
Devon patted her on the shoulder. ‘I will. I really do appreciate you. You’re the best veterinary nurse we’ve ever had. Thanks again.’
‘No problem,’ she said breezily, brushing off the praise.
It always made her uncomfortable, even though her main goal in life was to be helpful, cheerful and indispensable.
She’d spent too much time growing up in the shadow of her mum’s fearsome reputation.
Clare Fowler was abrasive, angry and had a chip the size of Australia on her shoulder.
Bets put a lot of effort into being the exact opposite.
Fifteen minutes later, she’d rounded both dogs up and had them on their leads as she walked out of the building. There’d been so much rain during the last week, despite it being the last week of May, that she almost grabbed a pair of wellies, but instead settled on a pair of old trainers.
She crossed the road and climbed over an elderly stile, deciding to walk the narrow path up to the woods.
The other way led to the canal and the reservoir and she couldn’t trust Tess not to go swimming.
The daft dog must have been a mermaid in a previous life.
Once in the water, it could be as long as twenty minutes before she deigned to get out.
As soon as Bets was over the stile, she released both dogs, who went cavorting ahead of her, joyfully sniffing at the path edges and chivvying each other along.
She smiled watching them. It was as well they got on, given the amount of time that Devon and Ella spent together.
He’d practically moved in with her as far as Bets could tell.
And no, she wasn’t envious, just a little sad that her happy ending had eluded her.
So much for the boyfriend who was supposed to finish his five-year degree away at uni, come home and live happily ever after with her.
Determined not to dwell on it another second longer – not on this bright beautiful day – she inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the hawthorn blossom on the trees.
Everywhere the verdant green of the trees heralded the coming summer.
Bets sighed and listened to the squelch of her feet in the soft mud and the murmur of the wind through the slender birch saplings, their leaves shivering in the chilly breeze.
Through the fence she could see the lambs, a little older now, but still as silly and carefree as ever, as they jumped and skipped about the older ewes, bleating happily.
When she came to a crossroads, she was about to take her usual route when she spotted someone cut out of the woods ahead of her.
She stopped dead. No! It couldn’t be. But of course it bloody was, because sod’s law couldn’t help crapping all over her.
There was Jack sauntering along, bloody whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Frozen by indecision, she stood there, her heart pounding in double time as her fight or flight instinct warred with itself.
Shit! She did not want to see him. Quickly grabbing Tess’ collar and praying that Dexter, a little way ahead, would turn around and follow her, she stepped backwards and took the left fork, immediately ducking behind the hedge.
She closed her eyes and crossed her fingers.
Come on, Dexter, she prayed with everything she had.
Still the dog didn’t appear and Tess was pulling, wanting to join her pal.
‘Shh, Tess,’ said Bets urgently. Where was Dexter?
‘Hello, Dexter,’ Jack’s voice rang out. ‘Where’s Devon? Hey, Dev!’ Jack’s sudden bellow made Bets wince. How to get out of this? She backed up a few more steps, wondering if she could perhaps pretend that she’d been on the path all along and Dexter was a long way ahead of her.
Tess pulled again and Bets, already unsteady on her feet, overbalanced, taking another step backwards …
into thin air. Arms flailing, slapstick style, she tipped backwards into the ditch, landing hard on her bottom in a rivulet of water.
Coppery blood spilled into her mouth where she’d bitten her lip.
If only she could have stayed out of sight – but Tess was leaning into the ditch barking at her.
Talk about ignominious. Bets scrabbled to her feet, her bottom cold, wet and muddy, her trousers plastered to her legs and her hands coated in indeterminate, slimy, ditch scum.
A figure loomed over the top of the ditch.
And there he bloody was, his sandy blond hair tousled, looking flaming gorgeous and amused.
Jack bloody Ashcroft. Brother of Devon, son of her landlord and the owner of the veterinary practice.
He was interwoven into her life in every way and now there needed to be a very painful extraction, because, as of two months ago, he was her ex-boyfriend.
Bets pursed her lips and glanced away.
‘Want a hand?’ he asked, extending an arm towards her.
‘No, thank you,’ she said childishly and, gritting her teeth, clambered up the slope.
She almost made it but then at the last moment, her foot slipped and she felt herself sliding backwards, hands grasping in the mud as she tried to gain purchase.
Her feet slipped faster than her hands and she found herself forehead-forward into the mud.
Why? Why? Why? As if life wasn’t shit enough as it was.
Jack, of course, laughed, and was still laughing when she finally heaved herself like a pregnant elephant over the edge of the ditch.
She glared but refused to speak to him.
Eventually he caught himself. ‘You look’—he broke into another laugh—‘muddy.’
‘Thank you for that expert observation. What are you doing here? I hope it’s a fleeting visit.’
Something flashed across his face. If she didn’t know him so well, she might have missed it, and even now it was so fleeting she wasn’t sure.
‘I am allowed to come and see my family,’ he said stiffly.
She stared at him, shocked to see the dark circles under his eyes and the gauntness in his cheeks, and then quickly told herself it wasn’t her problem.
‘So you are,’ she said crisply. ‘Well, I need to get back and out of these wet things.’ She went to squelch past him, her feet soggy in sodden socks, but he reached for her, his fingers snagging around her forearm.