the village. ‘Look I need to get her on a drip.’
There was the tring of the bell as somebody opened the surgery door.
‘Sally?’
Sally, the practice receptionist and animal nurse appeared at the consulting room door, her normal ready smile spreading across her face as she saw Lucy.
‘We need to get this little one isolated.’
The smile faded. ‘Parvo?’ As she spoke she dropped her bag on the chair and reached over to grab a pair of gloves. Carefully she took the unprotesting puppy into her arms, and headed out of the consulting room into the back.
‘I’ll call you later, Lucy.’ She was still worrying at her lip, her eyes glistening, and he really did want to hug her. Instead he peeled off his gloves and then put his hands on her arms. ‘If you’ve handled her make sure you wash your hands properly won’t you?’ She nodded. ‘This virus is highly contagious and we really don’t want it to be passed on to any of Annie’s animals.’ He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose, and wished more than anything he could stop, reassure her, but he knew he had to do his job. Save the puppy.
‘Will she make it?’ The words were soft, and he wouldn’t have heard them if his forehead hadn’t been resting against hers.
‘I honestly don’t know if it’s parvo. Let’s hope it isn’t.’ He brushed his thumb over her cheek, then pulled back reluctantly. ‘God, what a horrible start to the day for you. Look, I’m sorry, I’m really going to have to go.’
‘I know.’ Lucy was staring after him, as he elbowed the door through to the back of the surgery open.
‘I’ll call you in a bit, okay?’ He shot an apologetic glance over his shoulder as he headed through.
She nodded.
‘Still on for tonight?’
‘Sure. Is Maisie any better?’
‘Fine, well she’s had a sleepover at a friend’s and I’ve got to go and pick her up after lunch. She’s getting a bit uptight about the new term, she wants to go back to her old school.’ He grimaced. There’d been tears at bedtime more than once, and he didn’t know if he’d done the right thing agreeing for her to go and visit a friend from her old school. ‘It’s just been like a holiday, having those couple of weeks at Langtry Meadows Primary at the end of last term, then the summer break. She wants to go back to her old life now, and I don’t know what to say.’ It bothered him. ‘Am I doing the right thing, Lucy? Have I got this wrong?’
‘You’re doing the only thing you can, Charlie.’ Her voice was soft, it was her turn to reassure him now, but he could see a trace of worry in her blue eyes. ‘She’s bound to miss her mum, and her old home, it will take time. It’s a big change for a little girl.’
‘I better …’
‘You had, go on, go! We’ll talk later, and we’ll make sure she has a great time tomorrow. I’ll make cakes!’
He opened his mouth in horror. ‘Oh no, not Lucy cakes.’
‘Sod off, I have mastered fairy cakes now,’ she paused melodramatically, ‘I have watched a whole series of Great British Bake Off back to back I’ll have you know.’
‘You’ll be in the WI next!’ He winked, thankful to her for lightening the atmosphere, even though he was more worried than he’d let on. Then turned back to the matter in hand. A very poorly puppy.
Jasmine Cottage lived up to its name. The sweet-scented white flowers spread a delicate flush of colour over the old red brick as the plant snaked its way round the old window frames, over the ramshackle porch and up towards the roof. In amongst the feathery leaves of the summer jasmine were thicker, woody stems that Lucy was pretty confident were winter jasmine. Six months ago she wouldn’t have had a clue, but after spending all her spare time trying to tame Annie’s garden she discovered she’d taken in more details from the gardening books she’d found in the tiny bookcase under the stairs than she’d have thought possible.
If she remembered correctly, winter jasmine had yellow flowers, which meant that once Christmas was over she could look forward to a flush of cheery bright colour.
Since she’d spoken to Mr Bannister on the phone, she’d been completely distracted by the puppy and hadn’t been able to give the cottage (or him) another thought. In fact, she’d not even remembered to mention it to Charlie. But now she was here every doubt about whether this was the right thing to do fled her mind.
Which could be bad news, given the state of the overgrown garden, and peeling porch and window frames.
It might be a good job she enjoyed a challenge she thought wryly, as she pushed the small gate, and it rocked alarmingly on its one hinge and squeaked in protest.
‘Morning, Lucy.’
Jumping at the cheery greeting, she spun round to see the tall, lanky figure of Simon Proofit.
‘Simon, am I glad to see you!’ Which could be taken as rude. ‘Not that, well, I was expecting Mr Bannister.’
Simon grinned as though her reaction wasn’t totally unexpected. ‘Alf couldn’t make it.’
‘Alf,’ Lucy felt the smile twitch at the corners of her mouth, ‘that’s his name?’ That made him seem much more human.
‘It is, he inherited more than just the business from his grandad. What do you think?’ Simon gestured at the cottage. ‘It’s the type of property we say,’ he put on his ‘estate-agent’ voice, ‘has got oodles of charm and character.’
Lucy laughed, the last trace of the jitters disappearing from her stomach at his disarming smile. ‘I bet you do. Along with dry rot and rising damp?’
He chuckled. ‘The plumbing has character as well. Want a look?’ He strode past her, and was opening the front door before Lucy had a chance to answer.
Lucy stepped from the stone flags to the warmth of the old oak floorboards and fell head-over-heels in love with Jasmine Cottage.
‘It’s beautiful.’ The words came out on a sigh.
‘It is.’ Simon’s tone had softened, lost its normal slightly bombastic strength, and he walked over and settled into one of the armchairs by the fireplace, sending up a plume of dust that danced in the sunlight. ‘It’s been empty since May had to go into the nursing home, and her family haven’t wanted to part with it. I think they’ve hung on because giving up on the place would be accepting she’ll never come back.’
‘How sad. I don’t think I know her, she must have left before I came to the village.’ Lucy wandered over to the window; she had the perfect view of the green, of the bench where she and Charlie had sat so many times. For a second something caught in her throat, a sadness she didn’t want to acknowledge. Charlie had to go where his daughter led. If Josie took Maisie away, then he’d be leaving the village too. She was sure he felt the same
