The Vets at Hope Green, Part 2

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Title Page

  Part 2: Follow Your Heart

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Coming soon from Ebury Press

  Copyright

  About the Book

  PART TWO of a heartwarming and inspiring story about living the simple life and the joy of animals. Perfect for fans of Appleby Farm, Ivy Lane and Alfie the Doorstep Cat.

  Working as the receptionist at her local London vets, Sam dreams of escaping to a quieter life in the country. Spending time with her Nana and her lovely but elderly dog Rufus has sparked something within Sam, and all she wants is to start afresh. But her boyfriend Adam is in London, and something tells her that it won’t be an easy conversation.

  But then something happens that makes her going-nowhere receptionist job seem much more appealing: she finds a little stray cat called Ebony, in need of love and nurturing back to health. Faced with a dilemma, she must choose between her heart’s desire and the little ball of fluff burrowing her way into Sam’s heart…

  Is it possible to have it all?

  About the Author

  Sheila Norton lives near Chelmsford in Essex with her husband, and worked for most of her life as a medical secretary, before retiring early to concentrate on her writing. Sheila is the award-winning writer of numerous women’s fiction novels and over 100 short stories, published in women’s magazines. She has three married daughters, six little grandchildren, and over the years has enjoyed the companionship of three cats and two dogs.

  When not working on her writing Sheila enjoys spending time with her family and friends, as well as reading, walking, swimming, photography and travel. For more information visit www.sheilanorton.com

  THE VETS AT HOPE GREEN

  Sheila Norton

  Part 2: Follow Your Heart

  Chapter 8

  Back in London, and back at work, it felt even more as though my time in Hope Green had been a silly romantic fantasy. It was good to stay busy – it was helping to keep my mind off everything. I’d been so worried about leaving Nana, knowing how sad it would be for her now, with no welcoming tail-wagging when she got up in the mornings or no warm furry companion to snuggle at her feet in the evenings. I knew she had good friends in the village, but it wasn’t the same as having company at home, especially at night. She’d been in the habit of talking to Rufus all the time. Would she be talking to herself now that I’d left her on her own? My eyes kept filling with tears at the thought of her loneliness. She refused to admit she was lonely, of course, and I knew better than to contradict her protestations that she was ‘perfectly all right, just have to keep myself busy, don’t you worry about me’.

  I’d talked to Claire about Joe – the humiliation was still so fresh in my mind and I wanted an outlet for my feelings – without mentioning the ridiculous schoolgirl crush I’d been in danger of developing, of course. I told her all about how he was the rudest, most obnoxious man it was possible to imagine. I might have exaggerated slightly and embellished some of my encounters with him so that he probably came across more like an evil pantomime villain than merely a grumpy, bad-tempered male. However, in my mind, he deserved every word of it. But when Claire asked if Joe was still moody when I saw him as a client, I suddenly remembered his gentleness with Rufus, the way his whole demeanour had altered as he dealt with him and the kindness he’d shown to Nana and me on the morning of his death.

  ‘No,’ I had said quickly. ‘No, in fact he was completely different then. So that’s something.’

  ‘Good.’ She gave me a sideways look. ‘So what’s he like?’

  ‘I told you! Cross, rude—’

  ‘That’s not what I meant. Old, young, tall, short …?’ She looked at me even more directly and I felt myself going slightly pink. ‘Good-looking? Fit?’

  ‘Not particularly.’ I blushed. ‘Anyway, he’s married with a little girl, and to be honest they’re welcome to him.’

  ‘I see. Well, let’s just be thankful he doesn’t work with us at James Street.’

  But I couldn’t waste too much time regretting my embarrassing faux pas with Joe Bradley. I was meeting Adam to have the conversation, about the baby. He was waiting for me in our favourite bar after work.

  ‘You look well,’ he said, pulling me close for a kiss.

  I’d already told him about Rufus, and he’d been surprisingly sweet about it, considering he’d never particularly liked dogs. For the first time in ages it had made me feel as if perhaps we were back on track together, and had reminded me of how nice Adam could be and why I fell for him in the first place. So maybe the conversation would go okay after all. Perhaps he’d take the news all right, perhaps we’d actually be able to make a go of it together: Adam and me and the baby.

  I needed to ignore my doubts, try to sound positive. Telling him straight away would be best, I thought – he was leaning close to me, holding my hand; I could catch him while he was looking particularly tender and caring. Blurting it out in the middle of a random conversation would probably give him a cardiac arrest.

  When I’d accidentally brought up the topic of children during our chat before my holiday, in this same bar, he’d freaked out merely at the suggestion that I might want kids at all. In a way, it felt as if I’d somehow brought this pregnancy on myself by subconsciously wishing for it, although I knew that was ridiculous.

  ‘Adam, there’s something I have to tell you.’

  ‘What?’ He looked worried. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘No. Well, yes, in a way.’ I took a gulp of my drink he’d bought for me. Get it over with! ‘I’m … Well, it might come as a bit of a shock…’

  ‘A shock?’ he repeated, looking down and fiddling with his beer mat. ‘Are you about to say you want to finish with me?’

  I hadn’t expected that. ‘No, that isn’t—’

  ‘No? You’ve been giving me that impression recently.’ He was standing the beer mat on its edge, trying to spin it like a top. I wished he’d leave the bloody thing alone. ‘What with not wanting to spend the holiday with me – all that crap about needing time apart,’ he added sulkily.

  So it was still a sore point, after all.

  ‘Well, yes, I know I said that,’ I admitted. ‘We’d been arguing a lot, hadn’t we, so yes, I thought we should give each other some space, but—’

  ‘I suppose you think it’s all my fault.’ His tone completely changed. He slapped the beer mat back on the table and looked up at me. ‘Just because I’m more realistic than you about the future, about how much we need to save for a deposit on a place of our own.’

  ‘No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, Adam – it’s nothing to do with that!’ This wasn’t going the right way at all. I really didn’t want us to start arguing before I’d even given him the news. ‘Look, I just thought it’d help if we had a break, so that we’d miss each other, and after the holiday we’d feel happier and—’

  ‘But instead, you’ve decided to call it a day. Or have you met someone else?’ he levelled at me. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘No!’ I stared at him. ‘Adam, where has this all come from? For God’s sake, I’m not trying to break up with you. I’m trying to tell you I’m pregnant.’ The words came out in a rush.

  ‘Pregnant?’ He couldn’t have looked more horrified if he’d tried. He actually pushed his chair back from the table, as if he wanted to make sure I didn’t touch him. ‘You can’t be.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got two
positive pregnancy tests that would beg to differ. I know it’s a shock – I couldn’t believe it myself at first – but…’

  He was silent for a minute, just staring at me. Then: ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Since just before I went away.’

  ‘And you didn’t think you ought to tell me first?’ He raised his voice. People were looking at us.

  ‘Not really, no. I needed time to adjust to the idea myself, to be honest.’

  ‘I suppose you told your nan? And your parents? And Claire? I suppose everyone knows except me?’

  ‘No.’ I was beginning to feel upset by his tone. ‘Nobody knows yet. I wanted to tell you first. I knew you’d be surprised, but—’

  ‘Surprised? That’s a bit of an understatement! I can’t believe you’d do this, Sam. It’s a pretty underhand way of going about things, isn’t it?’

  I stared back at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Getting pregnant – ha! Just as we’re going through a rough patch.’ He gave a snort, like it was funny, but neither of us were laughing. ‘So what’s the idea, Sam? Planning on being a single parent, are you, with me being the bloody mug – the sperm donor – who has to fork out for child maintenance for the next eighteen years?’

  I gasped and felt my face turning red with shock and disbelief.

  ‘No!’ I managed to squawk. ‘It wasn’t deliberate, for God’s sake! Do you honestly think I’d want to be a single mum? And anyway—’

  ‘Oh, of course, you said you don’t even want to break up with me.’ He gave another sarcastic snort. ‘What, then? You’re trying to force me into your little romantic cottage fantasy, I suppose? Getting married, God forbid, and bringing up a whole brood of kids – well, you’ll have to find someone else, I’m afraid, because I’m not—’

  ‘Adam, stop it!’ I raised my own voice, stopping him in his tracks. I wasn’t going to cry. I was too shocked to cry, anyway. ‘Or I’m walking straight out of here and going home. I knew you wouldn’t be pleased, but I’m not listening to any more of this.’

  He picked up his glass, scowling, and took a gulp of his drink.

  ‘I was hoping we could make a go of it,’ I went on, my voice trembling now. ‘For the sake of the baby, at least. But if this is how you’re going to be—’

  ‘Forget it!’ he snapped. ‘If that’s all you want me for, Sam – just to use me, for the sake of the baby – when it’s quite clear you don’t love me any more—’

  I’d had enough. I stood up, rummaging in my purse with shaking hands for some money, which I then threw on the table for my unfinished drink. I was burning up with anger – anger and disappointment – in him. Yes, I’d been prepared for him to be shocked – and unhappy – about the news, but I’d never, in a million years, have expected him to react like this. I was gutted. Part of me had already felt sure that I’d rather be on my own than carry on with someone who thought so little of me. But on the other hand, we’d been together for a long time and whether he liked it or not, he was the father of this baby.

  That night I spent a lot of time staring into space, trying to imagine the possibility of being on my own with a baby. Getting up to change nappies and take a child to a nursery before rushing off to work every day. It seemed unreal, impossible, even if plenty of other people did it. Where would I live? How would I manage? My little fantasy about an idyllic life in a village seemed childish and ridiculous now. I tossed and turned in bed, worn out by the upset and worry of the evening, but too cross with Adam to care whether we even spoke to each other again.

  It was work that helped me through the turmoil of my emotions. The next morning, a little cat was brought into the surgery by an exhausted-looking young mum with twin babies in a buggy. She explained that she thought the kitten must be a stray, he’d been hanging around her door after she’d fed him a few times and she’d love to take him in herself but – she nodded at the sleeping babies – she had her hands full.

  ‘You certainly have,’ I sympathised, suddenly freaking out in my head. The thought of twins had never even occurred to me. ‘Don’t worry, you’ve done the right thing bringing him here.’

  She looked relieved when I told her that one of the vets would check him to see if he had an ID chip, in the hope he might be reunited with his owner.

  ‘But if he isn’t chipped …?’ she said, suddenly frowning again. ‘He won’t be put down, will he? He’s such a cute little thing, even if he does look a bit poorly.’

  Not if I had any say in it, he wouldn’t. I explained that we always tried everything to find the owners of lost cats – putting their photo on our website and Facebook page – before sending them to the rescue centre in the hope someone would adopt them. The woman went away looking happier, and as soon as she’d left, I opened the cardboard box and lifted out the little black cat. He was very scrawny and didn’t look well at all. One of his bright green eyes was very sore and weepy and his ears sat at jaunty angles, making him look puzzled. When I picked him up he gave a faint indignant squeak of protest, and I couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘Ah, isn’t he a cutie?’ Claire crooned from where she sat beside me.

  ‘Yes, but he’s very thin, and look at the state of his fur. I wonder how long he’s been lost. He seems quite nervous, doesn’t he? Like he’s not used to being handled.’ I scratched the cat’s head. ‘I hope someone claims him.’

  I waited until Mr Fulcher had checked him over, before asking about what would happen.

  ‘It’s a girl, for a start,’ he said. ‘And a timid little one at that. Unfortunately, she isn’t chipped, so we’ll try an appeal on the website and so on. Otherwise she can go to the shelter – after we’ve nursed her back to health. She’s very undernourished, of course. She’ll need defleaing, and some teeth removed and we’ll have to get that bad eye sorted out.’ He sighed. ‘Though obviously we can’t afford to keep caring for her indefinitely.’

  ‘Surely someone will be looking for her?’ I said.

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ he said with an air of resignation. ‘People move house and don’t take their cats with them. Or they just decide they’ve become too much trouble and turf them out – perhaps because their own circumstances have changed. You said the woman who brought her in had just had twins?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m sure she wasn’t the cat’s owner. She seemed genuinely concerned. She’d been feeding her.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see if anyone comes forward. It’s a shame, though. She’ll probably struggle to get adopted.’

  ‘Why?’ My heart sank for the little thing.

  ‘She’s black. Nobody seems to want black cats, unfortunately. They’re always the ones left at the shelter.’

  I’d heard this before and always found it hard to believe. I thought black cats were supposed to be lucky! I just hoped this little one would be. How could anyone resist her? I certainly couldn’t.

  During the next couple of days, I popped out to the back of the clinic during my breaks to see how she was doing, and had asked one of the nurses to keep me updated about her progress. There was something so sweet but pitiful about her. She needed someone to love her. Surely someone would come forward. There were already some comments on Facebook from people saying how cute she was, but so far, no one recognised her or had offered her a home.

  ‘It’s just a matter of time, little cat,’ I whispered as I said goodbye to her after the second day. ‘Someone will want you, I’m sure they will.’

  I was just hoping and praying it would happen sooner rather than later.

  Chapter 9

  Looking back, I realise I’d been focusing on the little black cat to distract me from my worries about Adam and the baby – and to stop me thinking about Hope Green too. My embarrassment about Joe had faded a bit by now, but I was still concerned about Nana being on her own, and apart from calling her regularly I didn’t know what I could possibly do to help from so far away.

  At home, I had the James Street Vet’s Faceboo
k page open on my tablet, staring at the little black cat’s picture, when my flatmate Helen called up the stairs to tell me I had a visitor. It was Adam, and he was already halfway up the stairs before I could stop him.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Sam,’ he said straight away. ‘I can’t believe I said all that stuff the other night.’

  ‘Neither can I.’ I stood in the doorway of my room, my arms folded.

  ‘Can we talk? Just for a minute?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

  ‘Please. I know it was unforgivable. But …’

  Reluctantly I stepped aside and held the door open, ushering him inside and closing it quietly behind us. I really didn’t want everyone in the flat hearing this.

  ‘But what?’ I said.

  ‘Well, you must admit, you did spring the news on me. What did you expect?’

  ‘Expect? Well, not for you to accuse me of getting pregnant deliberately, to force you into anything.’

  ‘I know. Look, I’ve had time to calm down now.’

  Good for you, I thought crossly.

  ‘We can’t leave things like this,’ he insisted.

  No, I supposed we couldn’t.

  ‘It was the shock. I didn’t mean it, all right?’ he said.

  ‘No, it’s not all right,’ I retorted. ‘I can’t believe you were so vile to me.’

  ‘You knew I wasn’t keen on the idea of children. You should’ve broken it to me more gently, at least let me have my drink first.’

  I gasped. Surely he wasn’t trying to blame me for the things he’d said?

  Seeing the look on my face, he went on quickly, ‘All right, sorry, there’s no excuse. I was out of order. Obviously, we need to discuss this sensibly.’

  ‘Discuss what, exactly?’

  I didn’t intend to sound quite so confrontational. He’d apologised, I guessed he meant it, I supposed I should be letting him off the hook a bit. But I really couldn’t be doing with all of this. My mind was focused on the little black cat, whose picture was still staring back at me from my tablet next to where we were sitting. I didn’t even want to talk to Adam, I realised. All we were doing was skirting around the real issue. Were we ending our relationship? One of us had to grasp the nettle and actually say it.