and you ‘re about to move on yourself, so stop whingeing and get a grip.
She unpacked swiftly and neatly, stowed her cases under the bed, then returned downstairs.
Aunt Libby turned from the Aga with a look of faint apprehension as she entered the kitchen.
‘What happened? Did some TV makeover team come knocking at the door? It all looks amazing.’ Chloe knew her smile was a little too wide and too bright, but her aunt seemed reassured.
‘Well, no, darling. Your uncle and I have a different reason for smartening the place up.’ She paused. ‘You see, we’ve decided to downsize.’
‘Downsize?’ Chloe’s smile was wiped away, and replaced by shock. ‘You mean you’re—going to sell the Grange?’ A thought struck her. ‘Oh, heavens, has something happened to the practice? Is it the recession?’
‘No, no, on the contrary.’ Mrs Jackson’s reassurance was swift. ‘It’s busier than ever, and that’s the problem. It’s always been a twenty-four-hour service, and your uncle isn’t getting any younger.
‘It’s been a wonderful life, of course, and he’s never wanted anything different, but now he’s seriously considering retirement. Giving himself time to do the things he’s never been able to fully enjoy before. His fishing, for instance. And he might even take up golf again. And we both used to love quite serious walking.
‘So, they’ve been interviewing for a new assistant, and one of Ian’s friends from college might be interested in becoming a partner.’
‘This isn’t just a dream for the future, is it?’ Chloe said slowly. ‘This is a real plan for now.’
‘Well, nothing will happen for a while, and wherever we go, there’ll always be a place for you, Chloe. Never doubt that. But, at the same time, we know you have your own life to lead and we’re so proud and so happy for you.’
‘But you’re not intending to leave the area, surely?’ Chloe felt as if the flagged floor was shifting under her feet.
‘Almost certainly,’ her aunt said briskly.
‘But I thought you loved Willowford.’
‘It’s a fine place,’ Mrs Jackson nodded. ‘And it’s been good to us, but I don’t think your uncle and I ever felt we’d end our days here. We’ve had a survey and valuation done on the Grange, and it seems we can afford to pick and choose where we’ll go next.’ She smiled. ‘It’s quite an adventure.’
‘Yes,’ Chloe agreed quietly. ‘Indeed it is.’
And I—I have my own adventure to embark on too, so I shouldn’t begrudge Uncle and Auntie a thing.
‘We’ve started de-cluttering, as they call it, already,’ Aunt Libby went on. ‘You gather so much stuff over the years that you don’t need, so the charity shops for miles around have reaped the benefit.
‘Oh, not your things, darling,’ she added quickly. ‘We boxed and labelled it all for you, and put the cartons up in the attic, ready for whenever you want them.’
There’d be room at the cottage for them, thought Chloe. Although she’d get rid of the toys, except for the teddy bear her father had bought on his way home from Saudi to see his wife and new daughter. And the books which she’d keep for her own children—when they came along.
She waited for the usual glow of anticipation that occurred whenever she contemplated her future with Ian, but, for once, it seemed curiously muted. On the other hand, her entire homecoming hadn’t been as expected either. It had been thrown off course by that dire humiliation at the filling station and had never really recovered.
I’ll be better when I hear from Ian, she told herself, and at that same moment the telephone rang in the hall.
‘And that’s almost certainly for you,’ said Aunt Libby, turning back to the meat she was browning for a cottage pie.
‘So what’s happened to the dream job?’ Ian asked, once the ‘it’s wonderful to talk to you’ preliminaries had been dealt with. ‘Did you get fired?’
‘No, of course not.’ Chloe was taken aback. ‘On the contrary. They wanted me to go with them for the summer to run their villa in the South of France.’
‘And you turned that down for Willowford? Amazing.’
No, Chloe wanted to say. I turned it down for you.
Aloud, she said, ‘I felt it was time to come home, back to real life again.’ She paused. ‘So, what time shall I see you tonight?’
He sighed. ‘Can’t manage tonight, Clo. There’s a pony club committee meeting and I’m chairing it because Mrs Hammond’s away. You must have known for ages that you’d be back today. I wish you’d told me sooner.’
‘So do I.’ She felt deflated, and oddly close to tears. ‘But I wanted to surprise you.’
‘Well you’ve done that all right.’ He paused. ‘Look, why don’t I book a table at the Willowford Arms for tomorrow evening? Catch up with everything over dinner?’
Or why don’t you suggest we see each other for a drink when your meeting is over? Or rush over here now?
She put a smile in her voice. ‘Sounds great.’
‘Then I’ll pick you up just before eight,’ he said briskly. ‘Got to dash. I’m expecting a call from the Crawfords. Their whippet is about to litter and they’re a bit concerned.’
It’s a twenty-four-hour service, Chloe told herself as she put the phone down. Aunt Libby reminded you of that just now. And you’ve always known it—lived with it for the greater part of your life. Planned to stick with it. So you can’t jib now.
A vet is like being a doctor, only the patients can’t tell you their symptoms, and a successful practice is built on trust and availability. Haven’t you heard Uncle Hal say so a hundred times over spoiled meals and cancelled outings?
It’s not the end of the world. You’ve just endured one of those days, that’s all, but everything starts again tomorrow.
Just keep thinking of that, and it will all work out just fine.
CHAPTER THREE
CHLOE lay back in the bath, appreciatively absorbing the scent of the rose geranium oil rising from the warm water.
In less than two hours, she’d be with Ian, and the time between would be spent pampering herself as never before.
I want to be irresistible, she thought, smiling inwardly.
All the same, she wasn’t finding it as easy to slip back into the swim of things as she’d expected, although her uncle’s affectionate greeting the previous evening had been balm to the soul, and he and Aunt Libby had tranquilly accepted that Ian was needed elsewhere, so she’d be eating cottage pie with them.
‘That whippet’s a beauty but she could be tricky. Let’s hope
