his face to my cheek, the contact making my heart skip a beat.
‘You have a cold, wet nose,’ I whispered.
‘Means I’m healthy.’ He might have pinched my bum just then, but I was too well-padded to be sure.
‘We found your bikes abandoned in a snowdrift,’ Ben said.
‘Why didn’t you try our mobiles?’
‘We did.’
Emma pulled a mobile from her pocket. ‘I have mine with me, but there’s no signal out here.’
‘I left a message on yours, Maz,’ said Ian.
I patted my pockets. ‘I must have left it back at the house.’
‘Typical,’ Ian sighed.
‘Well,’ I said lightly, a little annoyed by his implied criticism of my forgetfulness, ‘you’re just in time. We were looking for something to practise on.’
Emma held the elastrator above her head. Both Ian and Ben backed off.
‘That looks like a nasty piece of work,’ Ben said.
‘You were on the shift before last, weren’t you, Ian?’ Emma said. ‘Only you didn’t save us any lambs.’
Ian held his hands up. ‘I’m sorry – I’m not great at counting sheep.’
‘You know the rules,’ I said. If there were cows with feet to be trimmed, we did one foot each. When there was a horse to shoot, we drew straws for it.
‘Can we take you home now?’ Ben asked.
‘It’s too early yet,’ said Emma.
‘We’ll wait so we can give you a lift back.’ Ian always joked that he was a man of dependent means, dependent on his businessman father’s generosity. He gave him a monthly allowance, and paid his bar bills at the end of each term. To be fair, Ian was equally generous in his turn.
‘Is there anywhere we can make tea?’ Ian took my hand and lifted the flap on the pocket of his tweed jacket, revealing the silver top of a hip flask. ‘I’ve brought some Earl Grey too.’
‘You think of everything.’ I smiled.
‘Attention to detail,’ he said.
‘Attention to detail’ was one of Ian’s favourite phrases. He carried it through to the tea-making, a bizarre and somewhat unnecessary ritual, I thought, as someone who was used to chucking a teabag in a mug.
Suddenly there was a gust of wind, a burst of hail and the lights in the barn went out, and we had to make our way outside to Ian’s Land Rover, following the feeble beam of his torch. I didn’t mind – at the time, I think I’d have followed him anywhere.
Ian? Why is it I always go for confident, charismatic and charming men? A small voice inside me tells me it’s because I wouldn’t be happy if they were otherwise. What it can’t tell me is why they love me and leave me. I don’t feel like a victim, although I do wonder whether I don’t fight hard enough to keep them, whether I give up too soon.
‘I should have given up on men after Ian,’ I tell Izzy. ‘I did for a long time . . . Well, I did go out on a few dates now and then before Mike, but nothing serious.’
Izzy stares at me.
‘You were a bit of a goer then,’ she says.
I don’t take offence. I’m beginning to get used to Izzy’s straight-talking.
‘What about you?’ I ask, knowing from Emma that Izzy lives alone but in hope of meeting that someone special.
‘There aren’t that many eligible bachelors in Talyton.’ Before I can mention the name of the obviously single man attached to Otter House, she rushes on, ‘Nigel was keen on me at one point, but I made it clear that wasn’t on. I couldn’t stand his fussiness.’ Izzy puts a bowl of food down for Miff and another into Freddie’s cage. ‘If you didn’t marry Ian, what stopped you from going into partnership with Emma?’
‘It’s a long story. Emma and Ben got married and settled in Southampton – Ben was working at the hospital. I ended up working in various practices in London. It wasn’t until I came down for Celia’s funeral . . .’ My voice falters as I remember Emma’s mum, who showed me so much kindness when I was a student, offering me a place to stay during the holidays and bailing me out when I was on the
‘You have a cold, wet nose,’ I whispered.
‘Means I’m healthy.’ He might have pinched my bum just then, but I was too well-padded to be sure.
‘We found your bikes abandoned in a snowdrift,’ Ben said.
‘Why didn’t you try our mobiles?’
‘We did.’
Emma pulled a mobile from her pocket. ‘I have mine with me, but there’s no signal out here.’
‘I left a message on yours, Maz,’ said Ian.
I patted my pockets. ‘I must have left it back at the house.’
‘Typical,’ Ian sighed.
‘Well,’ I said lightly, a little annoyed by his implied criticism of my forgetfulness, ‘you’re just in time. We were looking for something to practise on.’
Emma held the elastrator above her head. Both Ian and Ben backed off.
‘That looks like a nasty piece of work,’ Ben said.
‘You were on the shift before last, weren’t you, Ian?’ Emma said. ‘Only you didn’t save us any lambs.’
Ian held his hands up. ‘I’m sorry – I’m not great at counting sheep.’
‘You know the rules,’ I said. If there were cows with feet to be trimmed, we did one foot each. When there was a horse to shoot, we drew straws for it.
‘Can we take you home now?’ Ben asked.
‘It’s too early yet,’ said Emma.
‘We’ll wait so we can give you a lift back.’ Ian always joked that he was a man of dependent means, dependent on his businessman father’s generosity. He gave him a monthly allowance, and paid his bar bills at the end of each term. To be fair, Ian was equally generous in his turn.
‘Is there anywhere we can make tea?’ Ian took my hand and lifted the flap on the pocket of his tweed jacket, revealing the silver top of a hip flask. ‘I’ve brought some Earl Grey too.’
‘You think of everything.’ I smiled.
‘Attention to detail,’ he said.
‘Attention to detail’ was one of Ian’s favourite phrases. He carried it through to the tea-making, a bizarre and somewhat unnecessary ritual, I thought, as someone who was used to chucking a teabag in a mug.
Suddenly there was a gust of wind, a burst of hail and the lights in the barn went out, and we had to make our way outside to Ian’s Land Rover, following the feeble beam of his torch. I didn’t mind – at the time, I think I’d have followed him anywhere.
Ian? Why is it I always go for confident, charismatic and charming men? A small voice inside me tells me it’s because I wouldn’t be happy if they were otherwise. What it can’t tell me is why they love me and leave me. I don’t feel like a victim, although I do wonder whether I don’t fight hard enough to keep them, whether I give up too soon.
‘I should have given up on men after Ian,’ I tell Izzy. ‘I did for a long time . . . Well, I did go out on a few dates now and then before Mike, but nothing serious.’
Izzy stares at me.
‘You were a bit of a goer then,’ she says.
I don’t take offence. I’m beginning to get used to Izzy’s straight-talking.
‘What about you?’ I ask, knowing from Emma that Izzy lives alone but in hope of meeting that someone special.
‘There aren’t that many eligible bachelors in Talyton.’ Before I can mention the name of the obviously single man attached to Otter House, she rushes on, ‘Nigel was keen on me at one point, but I made it clear that wasn’t on. I couldn’t stand his fussiness.’ Izzy puts a bowl of food down for Miff and another into Freddie’s cage. ‘If you didn’t marry Ian, what stopped you from going into partnership with Emma?’
‘It’s a long story. Emma and Ben got married and settled in Southampton – Ben was working at the hospital. I ended up working in various practices in London. It wasn’t until I came down for Celia’s funeral . . .’ My voice falters as I remember Emma’s mum, who showed me so much kindness when I was a student, offering me a place to stay during the holidays and bailing me out when I was on the
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