Vets in Love (13 page)

‘Fifi, if you enter the house I’ll have to arrest you.’ Kevin pulls out his truncheon. It doesn’t make him appear any more impressive and Fifi seems flummoxed when he suddenly changes his mind and continues, ‘Let me go first.’

A child’s voice rings out as Kevin heads inside the house. I follow close behind. It’s my home and these are my burglars, after all.

‘Mummy, Mummy! It’s a policeman. Are we in trouble?’

Another voice, the voice of an irresponsible adult, yells out, ‘Tell him to go away, Mummy’s having a nap.’

A girl of eleven or twelve, dressed in a striped sundress and glittery jelly sandals, appears in the hallway with a boy of about three on her hip. The boy, a flame-haired redhead, dressed in a grubby T-shirt, shorts and Crocs, is eating a slice of toast. His cheeks are smeared with raspberry jam.

‘Good grief, is that you, Sage?’ I step past Kevin. ‘It is you. And Gabriel too.’

‘Do you know these people, Dr Chieveley?’ Kevin is frowning while Fifi falls uncharacteristically silent.

‘Mummy’s having a nap,’ Sage says. ‘Hello, Auntie Nicci. We didn’t have a key, but the door was open so we let ourselves in. Hope you don’t mind.’ She smiles, and I see my sister in her – long honey-blonde hair, freckles, captivating blue eyes and heart-shaped face. Suddenly I’m overwhelmed with tears of relief and joy at seeing my niece and nephew again. I hold out my arms as Sage continues, ‘I did try to phone you on Mummy’s mobile the other day.’

‘It’s all right. I’m sorry to have inadvertently caused all this bother, Kevin. They’re family.’ I hug them tight, not wanting to let them go. ‘Am I glad to see you!’

‘Do you want to press charges?’ Kevin asks.

‘No, of course not.’ I do want to have a word with my sister though. What was she thinking of? All she had to do was call me to let me know she was dropping by. ‘Where is Mummy?’

‘Upstairs, having a nap, as I said,’ Sage responds, deadpan, and I don’t believe her. I wonder how many times she’s had to lie on behalf of my sister.

‘Let’s get the kettle on,’ Fifi says, taking over. ‘Kevin, you go back to chasing horses or whatever it is that you do best.’

‘It’s all right, Fifi,’ I protest. ‘I can deal with this now.’

‘Oh no, you need some support. You’ve had a terrible shock.’

‘Come on, Sage and Gabriel. Let’s go out to the kitchen, away from all these prying eyes.’ I walk through ahead of the children and Fifi, who appears to have attached herself to my family. I’m too confounded to argue with her.

The kitchen door is shut. I push it open, releasing the aroma of fish pie. There are empty plates on the breakfast bar, along with half-filled glasses of blackcurrant squash, the washing machine is in full spin and my sister is sitting on a stool, with her blonde curls tumbling down her back, just like Goldilocks in the house of the three bears, reading my magazines and drinking my coffee.

‘Cheska, what on earth are you doing here?’ I exclaim, moving across to touch her shoulder and kiss her cheek. ‘What’s going on?’

My sister looks up and flashes me an apologetic smile. ‘Can we leave the inquest until later?’

I know what she’s getting at, not in front of the children, or Fifi.

‘Cheska, it’s lovely to meet you.’ Fifi moves in to
greet her. ‘Welcome to Talyton St George.’

‘Excuse me, Fifi, this is private,’ I say. Cheska looks thin and drawn, her freckles standing out against her pale skin. She’s wearing a faded green sundress and flip-flops. Usually she cares about her appearance, in a bohemian kind of way, but today she looks as if she couldn’t be bothered. She reminds me of a stray dog desperately seeking someone to love them. A lump catches in my throat because I do love her, always have done and always will, because no matter how much grief she’s caused, especially to Mum, she’s still my sister.

‘I’ll be discreet. You won’t know I’m here.’ Fifi puts her handbag down on the worktop and takes the kettle to the tap to fill it. ‘Where do you keep your teapot?’

‘I don’t have a teapot. I use teabags.’

‘They’ll do.’ Fifi makes tea for me, Cheska and herself.

‘Sage, there are some yoghurts in the fridge – get one for your brother,’ says Cheska when Gabriel is pestering her for something to eat.

Sage turns to me. ‘Is that all right, Nicci?’

‘Go on,’ I say.

‘You remember Auntie Nicci, don’t you, Gabriel?’ Cheska says. Gabriel responds by grabbing the yoghurt and a spoon from his sister, and hiding behind his mum’s legs, pulling her skirt up around her long limbs. ‘She’s Mummy’s sister.’

‘I think he was too young to remember me,’ I say.

‘He knows all about you though. Mummy, you told us about when you and Nicci were little,’ Sage cuts in.

Cheska smiles at me fondly. ‘I told them the story about when you took the wrong medicine because you didn’t read the label. You took syrup of figs instead of cough mixture and ended up with an upset tummy.’

‘I thought you said she had a dire ear,’ Sage says, clearly confused.

‘Yes, diarrhoea – that’s the same as an upset tummy,’ Cheska says.

‘Great,’ I say, ‘you used me as an example of a cautionary tale and then embarrassed me with it.’

‘I want them to know who you are,’ she says with a flicker of a smile.

‘Mummy says you’re very clever because you’re a doctor, but when I had tonsillitis I had to see another doctor and she wasn’t very good because she sent me away with the wrong medicine, and we had to go back and see her again.’

‘These things happen,’ I say, amused and relieved that they didn’t happen to me, so I still have my reputation intact as far as my niece is concerned.

‘Nicci will be able to have a look at you next time, because you’re bound to get it again.’

I register alarm, but try not to show it in front of the children. The next time? How long is my sister intending to stay?

‘Can I ride your horse?’ Sage asks, changing the subject. I recall that Cheska brought her along to see Willow at the yard when they were staying in a caravan on the coast one summer with her current boyfriend, Alan. At least, I assume he’s current. Maybe, they’ve fallen out and that’s why she’s here.

‘We’ll see,’ I say. ‘Willow’s in training at the moment.’

‘I wish I had a horse,’ says Sage, confirming my suspicion that horses run in the blood, that equestrianism is an inherited disorder.

‘A rabbit would be easier to manage,’ I point out as the church bells chime six o’clock, which triggers Fifi’s decision to make a move.

‘I must love you and leave you,’ she says. ‘I have a meeting of the Parish Council.’

And I have a date. I start to panic. Matt will be over in an hour, and I haven’t showered, and I haven’t got any food, and the house looks like a tip, and I have company. So much for our romantic meal!

I see Fifi out, making a path for her through the shoes, books and soft toys scattered across the hall floor, and I wonder what to do.

I can’t bear the thought of putting him off, but I can’t see that I have a choice. I don’t think he’ll be angry, just disappointed. I call him, but there’s no reply, so I leave a message on his voicemail, warning him of a change of plan before having a quick word with Cheska.

‘I’m going to have a shower before we talk about your plans,’ I tell her.

‘I haven’t really planned anything beyond this moment,’ she says ominously, and any hope I have that she is en route to a B&B or hotel or an old friend’s house for the night is dashed.

‘That’s so typical of you.’ My sister is impulsive, reckless even. ‘You never think ahead. What if I hadn’t been here? What would you have done if you’d found I was on holiday or something?’

‘You are here,’ she says, frowning, ‘so it isn’t an issue.’

‘Don’t you dare go anywhere,’ I say, exasperated with her already and concerned that she might move on as soon as she’s arrived, whether or not she has anywhere to go. ‘Promise?’

‘Promise,’ she says.

‘Good. We’ll continue this conversation later.’

‘Have you got a hot date, or something?’

‘I’ll reveal all, I promise. Give me five.’ I rush upstairs, grab my dressing gown and turn the water on in the shower. It runs for a while before I realise that it’s freezing. There is no hot water. On further inspection of the room, I discover that my towel is on the floor, covered in dark handprints. Cursing under my breath, I throw on some clean clothes, jeans and a white vest top, not the ones I was planning to wear later for my date with Matt. My sister and her kids have used all the hot water.

I run back downstairs.

‘Cheska, we need to talk.’ At the same time, there’s a knock at the door. ‘I’ll go,’ I say. It’s Matt.

‘I’m early – I hope you don’t mind.’ He smiles. ‘My last patient came out of recovery sooner than expected, so I thought why not surprise you?’

This is the least of the surprises today. I’m pleased to see him, but wish I’d had time to have the conversation with my sister about where she’s spending the evening while I’m spending it with Matt.

‘Didn’t you get my message?’ I ask.

‘My mobile’s out of battery.’ He steps up close so I
can see the pulse at the base of his neck and the hint of dark stubble on his chin. ‘To be honest, I couldn’t wait to see you, Nicci.’ He hesitates. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’

‘Come on in,’ I say, smiling, and he walks into the hallway, handing me a huge bouquet of flowers from Petals, wrapped and tied with a bow, and with the same pale blue and purple theme as my cross-country colours.

‘For you,’ he says, kissing my cheek.

‘Thank you,’ I say, touched. I can’t remember the last time anyone but a patient gave me flowers. I catch hold of Matt’s arm and lean up to kiss him full on the lips.

‘Something smells good,’ he observes when I draw away, my heart pounding and heat flooding through my body. ‘You’ve been cooking.’

‘Ah yes, the food … There’s been a bit of a hitch.’

‘There was some food in the kitchen and we’ve eaten it all up,’ Sage pipes up from behind us. ‘It was very nice. On the packet it said, “made in Talyton by the WI”.’

I groan inwardly. ‘Thanks for that.’

‘That’s all right.’

Matt chuckles. ‘I thought you women valued honesty in a relationship.’

‘I wanted to impress you.’

He takes my hand and squeezes it. ‘You come across as the perfect woman with the perfect life, but I’m very relieved to find out that you are human after all.’

‘Is that your boyfriend?’ Sage goes on.

‘I hope you’re going to answer that,’ Matt says,
raising his eyebrows at me as if to say, what on earth’s going on?

‘Yes, I suppose he is.’

‘I didn’t know you—’ he goes on, staring at Sage as if she’s a ghost.

‘I don’t. This is Sage, my niece.’

‘Hello, Sage. Nice to meet you,’ Matt says politely.

‘Niece to meet you.’ Sage bursts out into peals of laughter.

‘I’m so sorry, Matt.’ I usher him through to the kitchen and out of the back door. ‘Sit down. I’ll get you a drink, then I’ll explain. Wine?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ he says, bemused.

‘I don’t know whether the wine is any good, but I spent a while choosing it with old Mr Lacey in Lacey’s Fine Wines, and it came at a rather fine price, so it should be drinkable at least.’ I fetch the bottle and a glass from the kitchen.

‘We’ll go,’ Cheska says, standing up. ‘I can see we’re in your way.’

‘But where will we go, Mummy?’ says Sage, her voice tremulous. Poor girl. She’s exhausted – and scared. ‘You said, we haven’t got anywhere, except Nicci’s house.’

‘Cheska,’ I say wearily, ‘sit down. You and the kids aren’t going anywhere tonight. Give me a few minutes. I’ll sort this. Sage, I promise that you, Gabriel and your mum are not in my way. Everything is going to be fine. Just stay where you are.’ I run my hands through my hair. ‘Please!’

In the garden, I pour Matt a glass of wine and sit on the chair opposite him at the table. I explain about Fifi
and the police and it all comes out in a jumble, and to my chagrin I find myself close to tears. In response, Matt moves his chair next to me, slides his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close.

‘Hey, it doesn’t matter about tonight. I’m cool with it.’ He touches my nose, his glass still in his hand. ‘Why don’t I take you out instead? My treat?’

‘I’d love to,’ I say, ‘but I can’t. Not tonight.’

‘All right, I understand,’ he says mournfully.

‘I haven’t seen my sister for a very long time, over a year, and she’s turned up not merely on my doorstep but inside my house and I need to find out why.’ I’m torn between catching up with my sister, who is clearly in a bit of a state, and a romantic evening with Matt.

‘Family is family,’ Matt says. ‘We’ll get together again soon. How about tomorrow? Oh no, I’m giving a presentation to some other equine vets at an area meeting. It’s just an update on my research, but I don’t think I can cancel. I’m on call on Sunday. How about Monday?’

‘I’ve got a cross-country clinic with Shane.’

‘Shane again? Is there anything I should know about you and him? You’re always with him …’

I can’t help laughing.

‘He’s very familiar with you. In fact, I keep meaning to ask you, why does he call you Phoebe? Delphi says he calls you Phoebe,’ Matt goes on as I’m trying to work out what he’s talking about.

‘You mean VB. It’s short for Velcro Bum because I stick to the saddle, most of the time anyway.’

Matt grins. ‘Okay, that’s weird, but I can deal with it. How about Tuesday night? Don’t tell me – it’s dressage night.’

‘It’s a late night surgery,’ I smile.

‘We’re going to have to co-ordinate our diaries, otherwise we’ll never see each other.’ Matt looks disconsolate.

I can empathise with him. It’s frustrating.

‘Come over to my house next Saturday after morning surgery. I’ll show you around.’ He grins. ‘I’m not expecting visitors.’

‘That’s the point. Neither was I.’

‘Hey, no one’s looking,’ Matt says, glancing towards the house. ‘Kiss?’

‘I wouldn’t say no …’ I don’t say no. I lean into him as he holds me close, and touches his mouth to mine, sending shocks of electricity darting up my spine. The kiss deepens. He tastes of hot coffee and mint. My pulse thrills. I reach out, one arm behind his back, my other hand spread across his thigh, feeling the taut spring of his muscles beneath my fingertips. Matt stills.