Vets in Love (24 page)

‘She’s all right.’ Sage puts her arms around the Bobster’s neck, and the dog licks the tip of her nose, making her giggle, and I can see there’s no point in pursuing the point. I’m not going to win this one.

‘Thanks again for last night,’ I whisper to Matt. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Our eyes and lips lock in a lingering kiss, making me wish for a brief moment that it was just the two of us.

‘Oh, please, no PDAs,’ I hear Sage sigh.

‘What’s a PDA?’ Matt asks, turning to her.

‘A public display of affection.’

‘Is that text speak? I don’t speak text.’

‘That’s because you’re so old,’ Sage says.

‘I can learn,’ Matt says, grinning.

‘I’ll teach you when we’re on the beach,’ Sage says. ‘Nicci, have you packed your swimming costume?’

‘I’ve put it in the bag, but I’m not sure I’ll wear it.’

Matt’s grin broadens. ‘This isn’t a nudist beach, Nicci. We’re going to the far end of Talysands so the dog can come with us.’ He lowers his voice. ‘Not so you can parade naked across the sand, although I wouldn’t have any objections …’ He stops abruptly. ‘I apologise. I shouldn’t have said that, not yet. We’ve only just agreed to make a fresh start.’

‘It’s all right, Matt,’ I say. ‘I want you to be you, not on edge, pretending to be someone you aren’t.’

‘Did you know I can lip read?’ Sage cuts in.

Matt blushes. ‘I do now.’

‘I’m ready,’ says Gabriel, dragging his bag that’s as big as he is across the floor.

‘I don’t think you’ll need your pyjamas,’ I say, catching sight of them hanging out of the top. ‘We’ll be home by teatime.’ But no matter how much I try to convince him, Gabriel will not leave his pyjamas or anything else behind, so it all goes into the boot of my car.

‘It’s lucky I couldn’t find any buckets and spades,’ Matt says, putting another holdall in the back. ‘They would never have fitted. We’ll have to buy them from one of the shops along the front.’

A strange odour of rotting meat accompanies us on the journey to the coast, and at first I wonder if the Bobster, sitting in the footwell at Matt’s feet, has a problem with wind.

‘What’s that smell?’ says Gabriel, who has no concern for social niceties.

‘It’s you,’ says Sage with sisterly fondness. ‘You stink, little brother.’

‘I don’t. Mummy, I don’t stink.’

‘Mummy isn’t here, silly.’

‘I want my mummy.’ Gabriel kicks and screams perched on his car seat behind me. It’s most distracting.

‘It’s bacon,’ Matt says.

Gabriel stops kicking. ‘Bacon? I like bacon. That smell is like poo.’

‘It’s bait for the crabs,’ Matt goes on to explain quickly. ‘It was past its use by date so I stuck it in my bag. It seemed a shame to waste it.’

‘Yuck,’ Sage says, chuckling.

‘I hope you didn’t put it anywhere near the picnic,’ I say.

‘I don’t think we’ll catch any crabs with that,’ Sage says, her mouth turned down at the corners. ‘They won’t like it – it’s disgusting.’

‘That’s the whole point,’ Matt says. ‘The more revolting it is, the more the crabs will like it. We’ll catch loads of the little buggers.’

‘Matt!’

‘I mean creatures,’ he says with a grin.

‘Buggers,’ says Gabriel. ‘Buggers, buggers, buggers.’

‘You are a bad influence,’ I tell him.

When we arrive, our first stop is at one of the shops along the beachfront to buy buckets, spades and crab lines. Gabriel isn’t happy with any old bucket. Oh no. He chooses a purple one shaped like a castle and
a bright yellow spade. Sage goes for a blue bucket and a matching spade.

‘Do you want one, Matt?’ she asks.

‘I don’t think so. I don’t think the doctors will approve of me doing any digging because of my shoulder.’ He glances at me. ‘Mind you, my doctor isn’t here.’

‘I’ll tell,’ I say. I’m teasing. ‘How is it anyway?’

Matt swings his arm back and forth and over his head.

‘Not too bad,’ he says, sounding surprised. ‘The steroid Ben gave me must have had an effect. It was bloody painful for the first couple of days.’

‘Matt.’ I give him a nudge. ‘No swearing.’

‘Does she always nag people like this?’ he says, turning to Sage.

‘No, just you,’ she says, shielding the sun from her eyes.

‘I wanna catch a crab,’ Gabriel complains. ‘I’m bored.’

‘Let’s go,’ Matt says, and we carry various bits and pieces along to the end of the beachfront where we join the path that continues on top of the wall running alongside the estuary. We stop just beyond the moorings for the fishing boats and the small yachts and set up the crabbing lines over the edge of the wall.

While Matt unpacks the stinking bacon, I point out the colourful houses and hotels of Talymouth on the opposite side of the estuary, and the rocky sandstone cliffs.

‘That’s where Mummy and I used to live with Granma when we were kids,’ I say, but neither Sage nor Gabriel is impressed. They’re too busy listening to Matt’s instructions.

Sage lowers the first line into the water with Matt’s assistance, while I hang onto Gabriel who is in danger of throwing himself over the edge in his enthusiasm to catch a crab.

‘How can you tell there are any down there?’ Sage asks, looking at the muddy brown water.

‘Just wait and feel for the tug at the end of your line.’ Matt squats down beside her. ‘Give it a little pull.’

‘I’ve got something.’

‘Pull it up.’

‘Yes!’ she says in triumph as she brings up a good-sized crab out of the water, at which it promptly detaches itself and drops back in with the bait firmly between its pincers. ‘Bother.’

‘I reckon that one’s done this before,’ Matt says. ‘Let’s try again with some more bacon. Watch out for seagulls.’

It’s Gabriel who lands the first crab, a small one with a green carapace and barnacles.

‘Drop it in the bucket,’ I say, but he doesn’t like the crab as much as he thought he was going to. He screams, drops the line and runs for the bushes behind us as the crab lifts itself onto its back legs and makes a break for freedom, scuttling sideways to the edge of the wall and dropping back into the water with a plop.

Sage laughs.

‘I don’t like it. I don’t like it!’ Gabriel wails.

‘What do we do?’ Matt says rather helplessly. ‘Shall we go and get an ice cream?’

‘I wanna catch a crab,’ says Sage. ‘It isn’t fair if Gabriel catches one and he doesn’t want to, and I want to but I don’t get a chance because he’s being a cry baby.’

‘All right,’ I say, intervening. ‘Gabriel and I will get an ice cream. You can catch up with us. There’s a café over there where we can watch from a safe distance.’

Later, the crab incident apparently long forgotten, we head back towards the seafront to spend some time on the beach. I stake our claim to a small territory above the tideline, arranging the towels and unpacking the cool-box while Matt strips off his shirt and jeans – and I’m mightily relieved to see that he’s wearing shorts rather than Speedos. The wearing of Speedos could very well be a deal-breaker. Matt jogs down to the sea with Sage and Gabriel, where they scream and splash about in the waves, Sage in a strappy summer dress and Gabriel in shorts because they don’t have swimming costumes with them. Matt’s making a good job of distracting them – they’ve only mentioned Cheska’s absence three times so far. I settle down to make the most of the sun on my skin and watch the ‘white horses’ dancing on top of the water, soothing away the remnants of my hangover.

Matt picks something up and walks up to the smooth dark sand, still wet where the tide has fallen away. He bends down and starts writing in the sand.

‘What does that say?’ Sage says, joining him, her face
flushed, her hair damp and her legs dripping with water.

Matt pauses, keeping what I can see now is the end of a cuttlefish bone in the sand. ‘Be patient, Sage. You’ll see in a minute.’

‘That’s a love heart,’ she cries out and comes running up to tell me, even though you can hear her joyful cries from one end of the beach to the other. ‘Nicci, Nicci, Matt’s drawn you a love heart.’ She holds out her hand. ‘Come and see.’

‘Pull me up,’ I say, and we jog down the beach to join Matt, who is standing with his hands on his hips, admiring his handiwork.

M 4 N 4 Ever.

‘No one’s drawn a love heart in the sand for me before,’ I say, going over to kiss him full on the lips. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’m hungry,’ Gabriel interrupts, and we go back to eat our picnic. There is sand everywhere, in the drinks and the food. The Bobster sits drooling, waiting for crumbs.

‘That must be why they’re called sandwiches,’ Sage says.

‘I think it has more to do with a man called the Earl of Sandwich who decided it was a good idea to put a filling between two slices of bread,’ Matt says.

‘My explanation’s better than yours.’

‘I want ice cream,’ Gabriel says, throwing his bread onto the sand, where a young seagull with speckled plumage swoops down and grabs it.

‘You’ve had one already,’ I observe.

‘Can’t we have another?’ Matt says. ‘Is there a rule that states a daily dose of one ice cream only?’ His eyes light up with humour. ‘It can’t have anything to do with healthy eating. Look at the picnic you’ve brought, Nicci. It’s all cake and chocolate and fizzy drinks.’

I give him a lightly mocking look. He’s far too soft.

‘Oh go on,’ I say.

‘I’m buying.’ Matt touches his back pocket, remembers he’s wearing shorts and digs around for his jeans under the spare towels to find his wallet. ‘Come on, Gabriel, let’s go. What do you girls want?’

‘I’m all right thanks,’ I say after Sage has put in an order for a cornet with raspberry ripple ice cream and two flakes.

‘Why don’t you two go, Sage?’ Matt says. ‘I can give you my wallet. Don’t lose it though.’

I watch them go, Gabriel trotting alongside Sage to keep up with her.

‘Peace at last,’ Matt grins. ‘At least we can watch them from here.’ He lies back with a towel strategically placed across his midriff to his knees.

‘Where’s the dog?’ I ask.

‘She’s gone with them.’

‘I meant to ask you how Beauty is doing. Mum said she was back in hospital.’

‘Yes, I was really hoping I wouldn’t see her again – not your mum, the pony. I repaired the hernia on Friday, and she’s up and about again. I won’t let her go home until we’re sure there’s no infection in the wound like last time.’

‘I bet Robert isn’t happy, having to pay out yet more money.’

‘You know these mad owners. They’ll do anything to save their horses.’

‘We’re back,’ Sage announces happily soon after. She drops Matt’s wallet into the cool-box. ‘Thank you, Matt.’

‘Thank you, Matt,’ Gabriel echoes.

Matt gazes at me and I give him a rueful smile. I know what he means, that it would be good to have some time together, just the two of us, but it isn’t to be.

Back at the house we have fish and chips, and Sage has a shower and Gabriel a bath. There are sticky fingerprints and tiny heaps of sand all over the house.

Sage reads her brother a story and Matt and I are trying to persuade them both to go to bed, but they’re concerned because their mum isn’t home.

‘Where is Mummy? Hasn’t she texted you, Auntie Nicci?’ Sage asks.

‘She hasn’t, but maybe she’s on a train and hasn’t got a signal, or she’s run out of battery.’

Sage’s lip wobbles and my heart melts.

‘Listen, Sage,’ I say, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. ‘She will be back.’ I pause. ‘Now, go to bed. Goodnight.’ I give her a hug. ‘You never know – Mummy might be here when you get up in the morning.’

I hope she is anyway. I’ll be livid with her if she doesn’t turn up or at least let me know where she is. I’m also concerned though. Surely even my irresponsible sister wouldn’t abandon her children like this,
knowing they’ll be worried, and I can’t help wondering if she’s met with an accident.

I check that both the children are in bed before I rejoin Matt in the living room. I’m exhausted. My hangover is catching up with me.

‘I know you’re concerned about Cheska, but I enjoyed today. It was great.’ He leans back, puts his feet on the coffee table and pats the sofa alongside him. At first I assume it’s a gesture meant for me, but it’s for the dog. I smile to myself as the Bobster sits herself beside him. I give up. What are a few hairs between friends? Matt holds out a treat from his pocket. Oh, and a bit of drool, I think, as the string of saliva dangling from the Bobster’s chin drips slowly onto the fabric. Rather sheepishly, Matt scrubs at it with a piece of tissue.

‘I saw that,’ I say sternly.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Perhaps we’re incompatible.’

‘I can change.’

‘I don’t want you to change.’ I lean across to kiss him, aware that the Bobster is giving me one of her looks, showing the whites of her eyes and setting her mouth in a squiggly line like a Snoopy dog, an expression that means I really want to growl at you, but I know I’ll get told off if I do. ‘I like you just the way you are.’ I do. I touch my lips to his stubbly cheek. He smells of the sea and when I kiss his lips he tastes of salt and sweet toffee ice cream.

‘I wish I could take you upstairs, but I don’t suppose they’re asleep.’

‘And there’s no way of guaranteeing that they’ll remain asleep either.’ I sit down beside him, the opposite side from the Bobster. ‘I’ve texted Cheska again.’

I stroke Matt’s hair, curling it through my fingers, but I can’t settle. ‘I’m going to call the police.’

‘I don’t think you can count her as a missing person yet,’ he says.

‘I’ve left at least five messages on her voicemail,’ I go on.

‘Hey, don’t panic, Nicci.’

‘What am I going to do? What if she’s not back by Monday? I was going to ride first thing and I’ve got to be at work at nine.’

‘So have I,’ he says, ‘otherwise I’d offer to have the kids for a while.’

‘They aren’t your problem, not that they are a problem,’ I add quickly as Sage appears, crying in the doorway.

‘I can’t get to sleep.’

When a cuddle doesn’t help, I end up giving her ice cream that drips off the spoon and onto the sofa. The Bobster licks it clean.