Must Be Love (28 page)

‘Hi, Declan. Penny, how are you?’

‘A lot better now, thanks to you,’ Penny says. ‘That mark on my leg – it was cancer. A melanoma, caused by too much sunbathing in my teens, but they caught it before it had a chance to spread.’

‘It was thanks to Sally, not me.’ I look down, watching Sally removing packets of hairnets and rollers from the display stand, bringing them back and dropping them into Penny’s basket. ‘Is she supposed to be doing that?’

‘She does get a little overenthusiastic,’ Penny says. ‘I think she feels a bit put out because Declan’s been around so much more since I had the surgery. She’s afraid of losing her job.’ She drops a tissue onto the floor. ‘Sally, love, that’s enough now. Pick that up for me instead. That’s it. Good girl.’

‘I’ll see you around,’ I say, excusing myself to get back to Otter House, where I help Shannon feed the puppy. I show her how to make up the milk replacer, mixing the powder with water, and testing its temperature on the inside of her wrist. I show her how to weigh the puppy on the kitchen scales and work out how much milk he needs.

‘It doesn’t look like very much, Maz,’ Shannon says.

‘Look at the size of the puppy,’ I point out. ‘He’s got a tiny stomach.’

‘Oh yes,’ she says slowly, taking some time to digest this logic. (I’m not surprised she’s feeling sluggish: she’s been up every two hours overnight, trying to get him to feed.)

It was worth buying the bottle and teat, because when Shannon perches on a stool in Kennels, and lets the puppy snuggle up in the crook of her elbow, he latches straight on and fills his belly.

‘How sweet. What’s his name?’ says Izzy, joining us.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ says Shannon.

‘I wouldn’t give him a proper name, not yet,’ I say, hating myself for dampening Shannon’s spirits. I’m a tad superstitious about it. I’d rather wait a few days: it might not hit her so hard, if he should die.

‘He has to have a name,’ Izzy insists.

‘All right. He’s called Seven,’ says Shannon, ‘because he was the seventh puppy.’

‘Bless him,’ says Frances.

‘He’s so cute,’ says Emma, and we surround Shannon, clucking around the new arrival like a flock of old bantams.

‘Can anyone join in?’ Drew says, elbowing his way between Emma and Izzy, no longer the centre of attention.

‘He’s finished it already, the greedy pig.’ Shannon’s hair falls forwards, revealing streaks of black and honey-blonde, as she puts the empty bottle on the arm of the sofa.

‘You know what you have to do next,’ Izzy says, straight-faced. ‘You have to lick his bottom to help him go to the toilet.’

‘I’m not licking his bum!’ Shannon exclaims in horror.

‘Gotcha.’ Giggling, Izzy hands her a piece of damp tissue. ‘That should do the trick just as well.’

‘I’m glad I’m not his real mum,’ Shannon says, red-faced at having been taken in by Izzy’s teasing.

I glance towards Emma at the word ‘mum’. Pressing her lips together, she looks out through the window, and my throat tightens at the thought of what she’s going through.

‘I’m off, then, if you can manage without me,’ I say softly.

‘Yes, thanks,’ Emma says. ‘Go and put your feet up, Maz. You deserve it.’

‘Actually, I’m popping out for an hour or so. Up to the Manor. Sophia and Lucie have invited me for tea.’

‘Oh?’ Emma’s eyebrows disappear under her hair. ‘You accepted?’

I nod. ‘Lucie’s baking fairy cakes. I couldn’t say no.’

Emma stares at me as if I’ve grown two heads, then her face relaxes into a smile.

‘Have fun, Maz. I’ll keep an eye on Ginge for you.’

‘I won’t be long.’ I check my watch and grin. ‘It’s past my bedtime.’

I reach the Manor and park at the front for a change, but when I knock at the front door, Lucie appears from the side of the house and shows me through the tradesmen’s entrance at the rear.

‘I can tell what you’ve been doing,’ I tell her, smiling at the pink icing smeared across her face and blended at the edges with calamine lotion.

‘I’ve been icing fairy cakes and then I put Smarties on the top,’ she says, oblivious to her appearance. ‘Humpy says to show you through to the drawing room and she’ll be there in a minute.’

‘Is the pony indoors today?’ I ask as we enter the drawing room.

‘I’ll have to put him out,’ Lucie says, pointing towards the shabby sofa nearest the French doors, which are open to the lawn.

‘Where? I can’t see a pony.’

‘He’s behind the sofa. Look, you can see his ears.

He keeps coming in for a mint.’ Lucie marches over to one of the side tables and picks up a biscuit tin, opening the lid and taking out a couple of sweets, at which a little black Shetland pony appears, nudging at her arm with his nose. ‘Come on, Skye,’ she says, ‘this way.’ He follows her out, takes the sweets gently from the palm of her hand, then tries to follow her back inside.

‘Get out!’ Lucie growls and waves her arms, and the pony backs off for long enough for her to slam the doors shut, rattling the panes of glass. ‘Do sit down, Maz,’ she says. ‘Don’t sit there,’ she adds when I choose one of the armchairs. ‘That’s Grandpa’s special seat.’

‘Where do you suggest, then?’ I ask.

‘On the sofa by the fireplace, but I’ll have to move the dog blanket so you don’t get hairs on your bottom.’ She giggles. It’s infectious and I find myself giggling along with her until Sophia turns up with a tray of tea and cakes, when a cloud blocks out the sun that’s been streaming through the long windows and the atmosphere cools.

Lucie dives in, picks out a fairy cakes and presents it to me.

‘Lucie, darling, you’re supposed to let your guest choose,’ Sophia says. ‘Oh, never mind now. Maz, how do you take your tea?’

‘White, no sugar,’ I say, feeling ridiculously nervous. Sophia seems more intimidating when she’s on her home turf. I watch her pour out the milk then the tea into bone-china cups. She hands one to me. ‘Thank you.’

‘Thank you for joining us, Maz,’ Sophia says. ‘Lucie’s already rather bored. Tinky’s cast a shoe, and the farrier can’t get here until tomorrow.’

‘So I can’t ride him because he’s got a sore foot,’ says Lucie. ‘You haven’t tried your cake yet, Maz,’ she adds.

‘I’m sure it’s very nice,’ I say.

‘Lucie, will you run along and lock up the hens,’ Sophia says. ‘Maz and I are going to have a grown-up chat.’ Lucie hesitates. ‘Go on, before the fox gets them.’

Lucie disappears, leaving me face to face with Sophia.

‘I’ve had time to reflect,’ Sophia begins, ‘and I’ve realised that the difficulty between us arises from the fact we’re from different generations. I find it hard to accept a baby born out of wedlock, but I know I have to change with the times. Maz, I’m deeply sorry for what I’ve said in the past. Naturally, I can’t speak for my husband, but I’d like – I’d very much like – to get to know him, or her, as well as I know Lucie and Sebastian.’

‘This isn’t only about me and the baby. What about Alex? You and Old Fox-Gifford, you’re his parents, he’s your only child and yet you’re prepared to disown him because he chose me. I’m not ashamed of where I came from and I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. I don’t need your approval. The baby and I’ – I’m not sure I can speak for Alex as well – ‘we don’t need you in our lives.’

‘Every now and then I have to remind my husband of what Alexander has done for him. Without him, there’d be no practice. There’s no way he’ll cut our son out of his inheritance. No, Alexander will receive what he’s due.’ Sophia pauses. ‘This isn’t about money, though. This is about grandparents having access to their grandchild. The generations can learn so much from each other, don’t you agree?’

‘I don’t know about that,’ I say, and I begin to wonder what I missed as a child. I have vague recollections of my grandparents. There was my grandfather on my mother’s side who sat in his chair glued to the TV all day, and my grandmother on my father’s side – Nan, I called her – who visited once a week, slipping me a pound each time, until she fell out with my mother, blaming her for my father’s disappearance. She accused her of hiring a hit man to ‘do him in’. She’d never believe her precious son would walk out on his family.

‘I’d like to teach it to ride. The Pony Club’s always in need of new blood.’

‘Well, I’m not sure,’ I begin.

‘A baby should be with its family, not a nanny,’ Sophia says, in desperation. ‘Please. It’s very important to me … To all of us. I’ve said things I shouldn’t …’ Sophia stares into her teacup. When she looks up again, her eyes are glistening with tears. ‘I’d love and care for your baby as much as I do Lucie and Sebastian, if you’ll let me. I promise.’

Her speech is enough to melt the polar ice caps, and I find my resolve weakening.

‘All right, Sophia,’ I say.

‘I’ll be the perfect grandparent. I won’t take over, or tell you what to do,’ she goes on.

‘Sophia, I said, “All right.” Yes, you can see the baby.’

‘Really? Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you.’

For a moment I’m afraid she’s going to leap up and kiss me, but Lucie returns, cantering back into the room as if she’s riding a pony.

‘I’ve shut them in, Humpy,’ she says, whinnying as she comes to a halt in the centre of the Axminster. ‘The chickens have gone to bed.’ Her eyes settle on the cake >in my hand. I peel off the case and take a bite. It’s sweet, crumbly and delicious. I nod my approval and Lucie utters a happy snort.

‘I was just telling Maz how we can’t wait to welcome this new half-brother or -sister into the family,’ Sophia says.

‘I don’t want half a baby,’ Lucie says, alarmed. ‘I wanna whole one. Why isn’t it a whole one?’

‘I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding,’ I say, trying not to smile. ‘Lucie, I’m having a whole baby.’

‘Can it be a sister?’ Lucie says, cheering up. ‘I don’t want another brother.’

‘Madge – I mean, Maz – can’t choose. It’s pot luck.’ Sophia turns back to me. ‘I wondered why Lucie wasn’t keen on the idea of this baby. Now, I can babysit most days during the week, whatever suits you best.’

‘That’s very kind of you, Sophia,’ I say, but I don’t make any definite arrangements, determined to impose strict terms and conditions. It already feels as if Sophia is trying to hijack the baby.

Having thanked both Lucie and Sophia for their hospitality, I check to see if Alex is around, but he isn’t at the surgery or at home at the Barn yet, so I return to Otter House, where Drew is still consulting with Shannon on Reception duties. I leave them to it, escaping to Kennels to spend time with Ginge. When I open the door to his cage, he butts his head against my arm, trying to get out. I take him through to the consulting room to let him have a wander, but all he does is stand facing the darkest corner, howling at the shadows.

I call him, but he either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t recognise my voice. I lean against the table, watching him, as I call Alex on my mobile.

‘Hi, darling,’ he says. ‘How are you?’

‘Pretty rough. I’ve had a bad day. How about you?’

‘I had Astra turn up on my doorstep with Lucie and Seb at seven this morning.’

‘Yes, poor Lucie.’

‘You know?’

‘I ran into Lucie and your mother in town today. How long are the children staying?’

Alex sighs. ‘Until Lucie’s fit to go back to school, by which time Seb will have caught it …’

I don’t know why Astra doesn’t keep the children with her if she’s such a good mum.

‘They’ll be better off here with Mother,’ Alex goes on. ‘It means they’ll be around this weekend. I’m sorry. I know they’re a bit of a pain.’

‘I don’t mind,’ I say, surprising myself. ‘You should have seen the smile on Lucie’s face when I convinced her I was having a whole baby, not half of one.’

‘I wondered why she was so quiet – I thought she was jealous,’ Alex says. ‘I hope my mother was civil to you.’

‘She was positively ingratiating. She’s changed her mind. I’ve been up to the Manor this afternoon for tea and cake. She wants contact with the baby.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I said yes. She looked so unhappy.’

‘Thanks, Maz.’

‘I won’t let her look after it up at the Manor, though.’ I picture Old Fox-Gifford with his smoking gun and the rats lined up on the bale of straw. ‘Your father might shoot it.’

Alex chuckles.

‘Can we meet up?’ he asks.

‘I’m going to have an early night, if that’s all right with you. I’m planning to curl up with Clive’s chocolates and a good book.’

‘Nothing too exciting, I hope.’

‘
Pregnancy for Dummies
. Emma gave it to me. I’d better read it – I expect she’ll grill me on the contents tomorrow.’ It’s funny how everyone’s becoming proprietorial over my unborn child. There’s Sophia, Emma and Alex, of course. And what about me? I think. Will I ever feel the same way?

It’s the end of April, two weeks after her op, and I’m expecting Saba in for her final check-up. I take a peek at the waiting list over Frances’s shoulder.

‘I thought Aurora had booked in to see me,’ I say, scanning Drew’s list of appointments.

‘Oh, Aurora? She wanted to see Drew,’ says Frances. ‘She’s in with him now.’

‘Did she say why?’

‘Something about Saba preferring a male vet.’

‘Oh?’ I feel quite put out that I’m not wanted. There seems to be a peculiarly high proportion of misogynist animals in Talyton all of a sudden. I go into the corridor to fetch a couple of pens from the stationery cupboard – since Drew’s been here, pens have become as rare as hens’ teeth. I hesitate at the sound of a giggle, which draws my attention to the fact that the door into the consulting room is ajar. Dismissing what I’ve told Frances about listening in to private consultations, and salving my conscience with the thought that I’m the boss and I really should have my finger on the pulse when it comes to my staff behaving badly, I sidle closer.

‘Come closer – you’ll never see it from over there.’ Unfastening the buttons on her blouse, Aurora beckons Drew towards her. He moves swiftly round the table and starts examining Aurora’s chest while Saba looks on, rather bored.

‘That isn’t much of a rash.’ Drew pauses. ‘Would you mind if I had a feel?’

‘If it helps you with your diagnosis.’ Aurora giggles again, and to my horror, Drew starts palpating Aurora’s breasts.