Vets in Love (8 page)

I’m tempted to take my hat off, but I would rather faint with heatstroke than reveal my hat-hair in front of Matt. I know it will be flat and damp and that the hairnet will have left a furrow across my forehead.

‘Walk her up and back.’ Matt points towards the aisle between the rows of horseboxes. I walk Willow away from him, turn her and walk her back. ‘Now trot her up.’

I try to keep up with her as I let her have her head.

‘It isn’t the horse. It’s you. You’re one of those neurotic horsey owners.’ Matt moves to join me when I bring Willow to a halt. ‘She looks perfectly sound to me.’

‘She might be sound, but she still looks like a bloody donkey.’ Henry’s voice interrupts us.

‘I think she runs up pretty well,’ Matt says, turning to Henry. ‘She’s supple and moves with a good rhythm.’

‘Are you talking about the horse, or the girlfriend?’ Henry says, his hands on his hips and his feet apart.

‘My girlfriend, of course,’ Matt responds, and I almost leap out of my skin when he pinches my bottom. I’m shocked and pleased, though I shouldn’t be, but I’m particularly delighted at the expression of what could be a touch of envy and regret on Henry’s
face. ‘We should be getting on,’ Matt continues. ‘I’m taking Nicci out for a drink tonight.’

This is news to me but I play along, until Henry disappears into his lorry to harangue his stroppy groom for leaving the water tap on and draining the tank.

‘I know Henry – he’s a bit of a prat.’ Matt is grinning. ‘It’s all right. He’s well aware of what I think of him.’

‘I’m really sorry.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about it.’

‘You know, you didn’t have to go that far.’

‘As far as what? You mean, pinching your bottom? Well, I couldn’t resist.’ His chuckle turns to an exclamation of regret. ‘Nicci, I haven’t offended you, have I?’

‘No, no.’ I can hardly accuse him of overstepping the mark when it was me who started the boyfriend/girlfriend thing.

‘I don’t know why you said it, but I’m more than happy you’ve decided to be my girlfriend, because it saves me having that awkward conversation where I ask you out.’

I stare at him, confused. His gaze is steady and his pupils are dilated, set in irises stacked with shades of brown, hazelnut and gold. His cheekbones are high and his complexion infused with warmth. His hair, although cropped short, is tousled in all directions.

‘You are joking?’ I say.

‘Not really.’

‘Oh?’

‘Don’t panic – you look like the proverbial hare
caught in the headlamps. I’m more than happy to play along, especially when you’re trying to make your ex-boyfriend jealous. Henry told me. He said you were a bit of a spoilsport.’

‘He would say that, wouldn’t he?’

‘It’s all right. I know there are always two sides to every story.’

‘I can’t apologise enough for saying what I did,’ I repeat, but Matt cuts me off.

‘You aren’t dumping me already? We haven’t been on a date yet.’

‘We can’t date,’ I point out quickly, and I’m about to give him a very good reason.

‘You’re right. We’ve moved way beyond the casual dating stuff. Should I ask you to marry me?’

‘Oh, Matt!’ I start to giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation. ‘Stop it.’

‘You have a lovely smile,’ he says. ‘I didn’t see much evidence of it when you were being Nicci the doctor. I thought you were a bit … well, scary at first.’

‘Thanks.’

‘There’s no reason to thank me. Let’s go out for a drink tonight and we can discuss our living arrangements. Are you a live-out or live-in girlfriend?’

‘I need to get Willow home,’ I say, turning away and leading her back to the lorry where I tie her up and put on her boots and tail guard for the journey. Matt leans against the side of the ramp, watching.

‘I’ll pick you up at eight.’ He pauses. ‘I’m being serious now. I’d like to take you out to celebrate your win.’

‘This isn’t a date?’ I blurt out.

‘It can be whatever you want it to be.’

‘What about Mel?’ Matt frowns as I go on. ‘What will she think about it?’

‘It’s none of her business.’ His expression relaxes. ‘I’m not involved with Mel, not now. I’ll explain later.’

‘Okay.’ His reply seems genuine enough. I make my mind up. ‘I’d like to meet up.’

‘Where do you live?’

Mindful of what I’ve been preaching to my mum, I suggest we meet at the Talymill Inn.

‘That’s a great idea. We can sit outside.’ He smiles that slow, heart-lurching smile of his and adds, ‘See you later, girlfriend,’ before walking away without giving me time to argue over the status of our relationship. I suspect he’s never going to let me live this down.

Chapter Five

A Horse of a Different Colour

WHEN I’M DEBATING
whether to walk or drive to the pub, my mother texts me to say she’s going out. I’d forgotten in the excitement of the day. ‘Keep in txt,’ I text back. I don’t mention that I’m going out too, because I don’t want to spoil her date.

I eat eggs on toast, then shower, throw on cropped denims and a top, and keep everything simple with mascara and lip gloss. I check my look in the mirror – not bad for someone who was up at five. I grab my bag and drive to the Talymill Inn.

It’s already eight-thirty, and I can see it’s busy because it’s a Saturday night and peak summer holiday season when everyone flocks to sunny Devon for the beaches and moors, the cream teas and cider. By now, every static caravan at Talysands and every pitch in the surrounding campsites will be taken. As I turn into the car park, there are several children and their parents on the verge outside, feeding a small fat pony
with feathery feet, and I think OMG, I know who that pony belongs to, which can only mean my mother is here on her second date with her latest ‘just a friend’, the Roger Moore lookalike.

I suppose I should have known better because there can’t be many pubs where you can park your pony and trap outside while you pop in for a drink.

I park the car alongside Matt’s four-by-four and head inside the pub, an old mill that has been restored to its former glory by the previous owners, a couple from London, who sold it on to Tony and Max, a couple of young entrepreneurs who made their money buying and selling hotels along the south coast.

Matt is waiting for me, watching the door from the bar.

‘Nicci,’ he calls.

‘Nicci!’ My mum doesn’t so much call my name as yelp it, such is her surprise. She touches her throat. ‘What are you doing here?’

Acknowledging Matt, I walk towards the bar via the table where Mum’s sitting with the man I assume is Robert. She’s glammed up in a sundress and pale yellow shrug, and sitting beside – well, I say beside, but she’s practically on his lap – an old man who was probably quite handsome in his youth. His hair is thick and salt and pepper grey, and he has magnificent bushy sideburns, lively blue eyes and a ruddy, outdoor complexion. He wears an old denim shirt, black trousers and shiny shoes.

‘I’m meeting Matt,’ I say sheepishly.

‘Why didn’t you think to mention it to me?’

‘He isn’t a stranger. Everyone knows Matt.’

‘Harold Shipman was a doctor, and he turned out to be a serial killer.’

‘Mum, you’re overreacting.’

‘Which is what you did when I said I was meeting Robert.’

‘Okay, I’m sorry. I should have mentioned it, but Mum, it isn’t a date. We’re two acquaintances having a drink.’ I lean closer and add in a hoarse whisper. ‘So please don’t go buying your hat just yet.’

‘I believe you. Thousands wouldn’t,’ she says glibly. ‘Why don’t I treat us all to the next round? You and Matt must come and sit with us. There’s plenty of room around the table.’

‘I’ll get them,’ says Robert.

‘No, it’s fine,’ I say. ‘Thank you, but Matt’s at the bar. We’re going outside. It’s a lovely evening.’ To be honest, it’s chilly and overcast, but there’s no way I’m going to be seen ‘double-dating’ with my mother.

‘Let me introduce you to Robert before you disappear,’ Mum says. ‘Nicci, this is Robert. Robert, this is my daughter, Nicci.’

The lonely farmer nods at me and smiles. ‘I’ve heard all about you.’

I can feel myself blushing. How could this have happened?

‘We’re having a drink to celebrate Willow’s win, that’s all. I’ll see you later.’ I touch Mum’s shoulder. ‘Have fun.’

‘Oh, we will, won’t we, Robert?’ she says, with far
too much certainty for my liking. ‘Do you want me to text you?’

‘No,’ I decide. I warm to Robert immediately. Anyone less like a serial killer, I can’t imagine.

When I finally join Matt at the bar, he looks straight into my eyes and gives me the biggest smile, making my heart skip a beat.

‘Hi there, girlfriend.’

‘Can we go back a step, please?’ I say, smiling in return. ‘I’d like to go back to friends.’

‘Oh no, I don’t want to give up on our relationship so soon. I mean, we’ve only been going out together for a few hours.’ He chuckles. ‘Tell me what I’ve done and how I can make it up to you? Why don’t we talk about it over a drink? What would you like? I’m buying.’

‘A lime soda, please.’

‘I can stretch to a glass of wine, or a bottle of champagne to celebrate your win.’

‘I don’t drink. I’m teetotal.’

Matt whistles between his teeth. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I am.’

‘You’re a rare creature around here,’ Matt observes, ‘quite an exotic species of animal. I thought everyone in the medical profession resorted to drink at some time or another. You know, you’re full of surprises. I like that.’ His voice is soft and gently caressing. I am mesmerised.

I take a step back to put some space between us as he hands me a glass of lime soda rattling with ice.

‘Shall we go outside?’ he says, and we walk
through the back of the pub into the beer garden where we find a bench by the river and sit down with the sun sinking behind the trees and a duck squawking somewhere in the shadow of the reeds at the bottom of the far bank.

‘So let’s hear your version of the story. Why did you tell Henry that you were my girlfriend?’ Matt leans towards me. ‘I’m curious.’

‘We have history,’ I say eventually. ‘I went out with him for a while, but it turned out he was cheating on me with one of the many grooms and working pupils who pass through his yard. I should never have agreed to go out with him in the first place, because it was never going to work.’

‘Never mind. It’s his loss.’ Then he asks, ‘Have you ever thought of competing professionally, like Henry?’

‘It was a dream of mine when I started riding, but I needed a proper job. I wasn’t sure I was talented or tough enough to make it.’

‘You seem pretty talented to me,’ he says, pushing his glass towards me, chinking it against mine. ‘Congratulations on your win.’

‘Thanks. It’s one of those days that makes all the training and preparation seem worth it.’ I pause, sipping my drink. ‘That’s enough about me. What about you? Would your real girlfriend be happy about me having a drink with you? I mean, I can’t officially be your girlfriend if you’re already taken.’

‘You are the one. There is no other. I was rather pleased that you offered to take up the vacancy. Do you have many patients who have a crush on their
doctor?’ he goes on, holding my gaze. ‘You know what I’m talking about. One look at you and I was smitten. I am smitten, Dr Chieveley.’

‘You can’t be,’ I say lightly. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’

I’m beginning to think that being friends with Matt is going to be tiring. He has a seemingly inexhaustible supply of good humour and I’m not sure how I’m going to know when he’s serious and when he’s joking.

‘Well, this is a fact-finding mission,’ he responds. ‘You go next. Ask me a question.’

I go for the obvious one first. ‘If you haven’t got a girlfriend, are you married?’

He shakes his head. ‘No.’

‘Engaged?’

‘I’ve never been engaged.’

‘So you’re afraid of commitment?’

‘That’s rather a harsh judgement. Maybe I haven’t met the right person yet.’ He breathes a sigh of regret. ‘I was close to getting engaged once.’

‘What happened?’

‘She turned me down.’

‘She must have been mad,’ I say lightly.

‘That’s what I told her. It was a long time ago – when I was a vet student. She was right anyway. I was far too young and immature.’

‘What was she like?’

‘What is this, Twenty Questions? It’s like you’re at work, investigating a difficult case.’

‘Are you a difficult case?’

‘Come out with me again and you’ll have the opportunity to find out. I’m not answering that now – I want to keep you in suspense.’

‘You’re pretty cocky, aren’t you, if you think it matters all that much to me,’ I say archly. Recalling something he said earlier, I return to my interrogation. ‘You said you were involved with Mel, your houseman?’

‘I was,’ he admits. ‘I committed the unforgivable sin of dating a member of staff. It didn’t last long and I finished it about three months ago, because it just wasn’t working. Mel didn’t take it too well. It’s been rather awkward since.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Matt seems genuinely upset.

‘Nicci, I’m not proud of what happened. I made a terrible mistake and I’ll never do it again.’ He pauses for a while before regaining his good humour.

‘Come on …’ He smiles that heart-stopping smile. ‘Ask me some more questions.’ He flips a beer mat into the air. ‘Fire away.’

‘Can you play darts?’

‘Can I what?’

‘Play darts.’ I can’t help giggling at his expression of amazement. ‘I like a game of darts occasionally. I’m checking that we’re well-matched.’

‘I’m a bit rusty, but I’m sure I can pick it up again quite quickly. I’ll have to play left-handed because of my poorly shoulder,’ he says. ‘Go on.’

‘Hobbies?’ I start to get into the swing of what is turning out to be rather like speed dating, even though it isn’t supposed to be a date. ‘What do you do in your spare time?’

‘I like running and sailing, and I keep bees.’

‘That’s unusual. What kind of attention does a beehive need?’

‘It’s all aimed at collecting the honey. One day, you can have honey for breakfast at mine.’