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Authors: Cathy Woodman

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary

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BOOK: The Village Vet
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I make up my mind. ‘Give me five minutes,’ I say, and I fling on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, the ones I wore the night before the wedding when I was getting ready for the big day. I head downstairs to the kitchen, where Mum leaves Nathan and me alone. We stare at each other, unable to think of anything to say.

‘You look pretty wrecked,’ I begin, resisting the urge to give him a hug to console him, because I still feel for him as a human being, although he seems rather less than human at the moment. His breath reeks of alcohol and he’s wearing the same clothes as the day before but without the tie and jacket.

‘I think I’m allowed to,’ he says, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the worktop. He looks from me to the toe of his shoe and back. ‘I’ve come to ask you if you’ll reconsider, Tessa. I mean, just look at what you’re throwing away.’

‘I’m sorry?’ I can feel my forehead tighten into a frown.

‘I’m sure you are,’ he says, misinterpreting what I’ve said. ‘I heard you tried to drown yourself in the river – people saw you walking back through town with your father. You were soaked through.’

‘Nathan, it wasn’t like that,’ I say, but he ignores me.

‘You had good reason to want to top yourself, considering you thought you’d never see me again. But you’re lucky because here I am, willing to give you another chance. You and me, we’re good together.’ He means in bed, I muse, as he goes on, ‘I’m prepared to do anything to give it another go. We can still go on
honeymoon
, we can get married, a small do at a register office when we get back, just the two of us. How about it?’

‘I don’t understand why you’re so keen on the idea,’ I say, confused.

‘We make a good team. I need you, Tessa.’

‘What for?’ I ask suspiciously. ‘You don’t seem to need me all that much – you don’t spend a lot of time with me. I’m not sure you enjoy my company.’

‘Of course I do. And I do spend time with you, as much as I can. I’m a busy man, working to make sure you have the best of everything, my darling.’

‘I am not your darling,’ I snap back. ‘And you might be working all hours, but it’s me who’s been paying the bills recently.’

‘I know I’ve had to ask you to use your credit card, but you know why that is – because my replacement card got lost in the post.’

‘Yes, all right.’ I hold my hands up, gesturing him to stop talking. ‘You’ve already told me that several times over. When are you going to pay me back?’

‘There’s no need to worry about that when we’re married.’ Nathan walks over to me and grabs for my hand, but I step aside, putting the kitchen table between us. ‘The investments I’ve made over the past couple of months haven’t yielded a return yet – business is slow – but there’ll soon be more cash coming in. I’m sure of that,’ he adds in a far less confident tone than I’m used to hearing. His complexion is pale and shiny with sweat, and I’m not sure if he’s hungover, or really worrying about his money or lack of it.

Suddenly, I realise with a sinking heart that, although I imagined a clean break from my ex-fiancé,
we
are going to be entangled financially at least for a while until Nathan pays me back and we sort out whether or not we sell the house, or he buys me out and keeps it.

‘Nathan,’ I say firmly, ‘you have to listen to me.’

‘I am listening.’

‘Yes, but you’re not hearing what I’m saying, which is, I am not going to change my mind. I am not going to marry you, ever.’

‘And that’s your final decision?’

‘My final decision,’ I repeat for him.

‘You’ll regret this when I’m a multimillionaire,’ Nathan growls.

‘No regrets,’ I say, as yet another realisation hits me right between the eyes: Nathan’s frequent enquiries as to the state of Great-Auntie Marion’s health and the size of my potential inheritance. (I caught him looking up land prices in Wales once.) ‘I would never think of marrying anyone for their money,’ I say coldly. ‘Now, go away and don’t come back.’ Taking control, I direct him out through the back door, so there’s no risk of him running into Jack if he’s still at the front, but although I put on a show of emotional strength for Nathan, I am in tears when I sit down at the kitchen table, my head in my hands, because I got him so wrong. I thought he was marrying me for love.

Chapter Three

 

Hair of the Dog

 

I HAD A
lucky escape. I have to keep reminding myself of that. I have plenty of support from friends and family, especially my dad, and I’m grateful, although I admit I don’t always appreciate them.

Aunt Fifi has taken it upon herself to take me out today for a change of scene, and she’s gone overboard with the nautical theme, wearing a navy dress printed with a yacht design, a jacket with an anchor brooch, a captain’s cap, white deck shoes and matching handbag.

‘Where’s the boat?’ I ask her, teasing her lightly when I join her outside my parents’ house in my uncle’s car after lunch.

‘Oh, Tessa, I’m glad you’ve held on to your sense of humour.’

‘I’m hanging on to it by my finger tips,’ I say wryly. It’s been three weeks since the wedding and I’m feeling worse, not better, more angry now than sad, especially having seen Nathan out and about in Talyton with a deep natural tan from where he soaked up the sun
with
Mike on what should have been our honeymoon. I glance down at my leggings, tunic-style top and flat sandals. ‘Should I have dressed up? I can go back and change.’

‘You’ll do, though I don’t understand young people today – one’s appearance should be a matter of pride.’ Fifi sighs with regret. ‘Mind you, when you have youth and beauty on your side, I suppose the clothes don’t matter in quite the same way.’

‘Well, you look great,’ I say to cheer her up. She smiles briefly and changes the subject as a car horn sounds behind us.

‘Dear niece, I’m afraid your wedding day will go down in the annals of family history. Who would have thought there would be fighting in church and blood spilled at the altar?’

‘There wasn’t all that much blood,’ I point out, not wishing to be reminded but aware that Fifi’s desire for a full inquest will have to be endured.

‘So it turns out that Nathan was too good to be true.’ Before I can ask her how she knows, she goes on, ‘Annie told me about the money and, who knows, after that deceit, it wouldn’t be impossible to imagine that he was two-timing you as well.’

‘You said you liked him.’

‘I did, but he misled us all, including poor old you.’

He certainly deceived me, I think. I discovered the full extent of his lies the day after the wedding.

‘Your mother adored him and I thought he was the bee’s knees. Your father was the only person to have any doubts.’

‘He didn’t say anything.’ I shut my mouth quickly, recalling how Dad did try, but I didn’t take it too well. ‘Aren’t you going to drive on?’ I say above the
cacophony
of horns sounding from the cars queued up behind us, and the Co-op lorry coming towards us. ‘There are people waiting.’

‘It’s better that you’ve dealt with it now rather than go through a messy divorce. I hear he’s left you in a bit of a pickle,’ Fifi says, ignoring them. ‘Tessa, don’t glare at me like that.’ She puts the car in gear and pulls out sharply. ‘A problem aired is a problem shared. Your mum isn’t the only person in the world who’s talking about it. I’ve met with the WI and the local council, and you’re currently top of the agenda – I don’t mean officially. I’m referring to the latest gossip.’

‘I hate that,’ I say, grabbing hold of the seat as my aunt brakes to avoid an elderly woman who’s struggling to cross the road with a heavily laden shopping trolley.

‘Everyone will forget as soon as the next scandal comes along.’

So it’s classed as a scandal now, I muse.

‘Your face is a picture. I’m pulling your leg, metaphorically speaking.’

‘I’d rather you concentrated on the road,’ I say firmly.

‘I’m trying to cheer you up, hence today’s awfully big adventure.’

‘This isn’t going to take too long, is it?’ I say anxiously. ‘Only I’ve got so much to do.’ I have a list ranging from contacting the bank manager at the branch in Talyton St George to arrange an overdraft to rewriting my CV. Thanks to Nathan, I need money. I need a job, and fast.

‘Trust me. This is all to your advantage.’

‘So, where are we going on this magical mystery tour?’

‘You’ll have to wait and see.’ My aunt drives us past the garden centre on Stoney Lane.

‘I thought you might be going to ask my opinion on the latest fashions,’ I say.

‘Well, you weren’t much use the last time. You have absolutely no style, Tessa.’

I bite my lip, suppressing a chuckle at the memory of standing in the country clothing section of the garden centre that she owns with my uncle, Fifi holding pleated skirts and khaki fleeces up against me. Clogs with ladybirds on them, chintz blouses and quilted jackets are not my cup of tea, but they must suit the clientele – the place is a goldmine.

‘Oh, I hope you’re as excited about this as I am,’ my aunt goes on.

‘I could be if only you’d tell me where we’re going.’ I’m smiling now, the most light-hearted I’ve felt since I discovered the extent of my debts. Nathan and I bought a house with a mortgage the size of the EU debt mountain, because although he said he had the funds to buy it outright, he wanted to keep them as liquid assets to invest in his business. Nathan insisted that both our names were on the paperwork, a touching gesture that made sure I had a vested interest in our home. It transpires that he cancelled our direct debit to the building society within a month of us moving in, and because he didn’t have any funds in the first place, guess who is liable for the debt? It’s me. And who not only paid for the wedding reception and all those bottles of bubbly that our guests drank their way through in my absence, but for the honeymoon too? Yes, me again.

When I returned to the house to collect some clothes after the wedding, I discovered more unpaid bills,
along
with demands for immediate repayment with interest, and another day later, the bailiffs came and seized my lovely car because Nathan had failed to keep up with the hire purchase payments.

We were going to have a dog and start trying for a baby. I wonder if he meant that now, if they weren’t all lies too.

‘How is it going, living with your mum and dad?’ Fifi asks as she drives along the country road out of Talyton St George. She turns into a long, narrow lane with passing places and has to pull in for a herd of about sixty black and white dairy cows on their way out from milking at one of the farms nearby. As they pass, one stops to investigate the bonnet of my uncle’s new Volvo, leaving the damp imprint of her nose. Two more pause to raise their tails and deliver spattering pools of dung beside the wing.

I’m a boomerang kid, winging my way back to live with my parents at the age of twenty-eight. A week ago, I had my own house. Now, I have a massive debt to repay and nowhere else to go.

‘I’m grateful to them for providing a roof over my head, but they’re driving me mad,’ I say.

‘I thought it was supposed to be the other way round.’

‘I’m not in the mood for socialising. They’re always out in the evenings – which does mean that I get the television to myself – and then I lie awake wondering when they’re going to come home. Inevitably, just as I’ve fallen asleep, they come falling through the front door, and the following morning when I’m about to hit the snooze button on the alarm, they’re up and about, laughing and squealing, and fighting over the last painkiller, and who puts the coffee on.’

‘Can’t you move back into your house – temporarily, I mean? I don’t see why Nathan should have the monopoly on it.’

‘Until it’s repossessed?’ I bite my lip. It’s a lovely house, a family home with five bedrooms, a study and landscaped gardens on the new estate in Talyton St George.

‘You have as much right to live there as he does.’

‘It triggers too many memories.’ I have been back three times to collect my belongings, and each time I felt faint and sick. The house is a symbol of Nathan’s deception.

‘I think we might be able to help each other out, Tessa,’ Fifi says.

‘That’s very kind of you, but I do have a plan.’

‘Which is?’

‘To respond to every ad for vet nursing vacancies and hope someone offers me a job as soon as possible.’

‘But we don’t want you moving out of the area again,’ Fifi says, rather crestfallen.

‘I’m not tied to Talyton St George any more. The house will be sold and that will be it.’

‘What about your dad? He was delighted when you came back to live here.’

‘From the way Dad carried on, anyone would have thought I’d been living on the other side of the world. I wasn’t far away, twenty miles at the most. He does exaggerate sometimes.’

‘Most times,’ Fifi smiles.

‘If I move out of the area, I can come back to join everyone for Christmas, for the Country Show, for the tar barrels and the wassailing.’ Talyton St George has retained so many quaint – some would say bizarre – traditions.

‘Neither of the practices here have got any vacancies. I’ve asked,’ my aunt says. ‘It’s always useful to have contacts. Maz and Emma are such lovely people – Maz is committed to animal welfare, she’s been very supportive of Talyton Animal Rescue.’

BOOK: The Village Vet
13.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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