A Country Affair (21 page)

Chris banged him on his bare back. “Thanks for that, Scott. Whiskey to celebrate?”

Scott nodded his thanks. Kate handed him the towel Chris had provided. He grinned at her. “Great, eh?”

“Absolutely. I’m dumbstruck. Are all Guernsey calves as beautiful as that one?”

“Mostly, yes. Brilliant vet his lordship’s got, eh?”

Kate laughed. “Is the owner really a lord?”

“Indeed. Tightfisted as hell, he is. Except where his horses are concerned.”

“I don’t remember anyone being called out to his horses.”

“Uses an equine practice. Can’t trust them to people like us!”

“Huh! If he’d seen you in there with that heifer, he would. It was like a miracle. So wonderful.”

“Such loyalty.” He shrugged on his jacket, put his hand on her shoulder, studied the rapt expression on her face and saluted her with a kiss. “Come and get your whiskey. Is that all right?”

“Yes.”

By the time she returned to the passenger seat and Scott was backing out prior to leaving, the whiskey had hit her empty stomach with a bang. The euphoria she’d felt at witnessing the birth, rather than wearing off, was increasing: Kate felt on top of the world; there was nothing she couldn’t achieve. She glanced sideways at Scott and loved everything about him. Now her admiration of his skill with the calving was as nothing compared with her absorption in his physical magnetism. Her headmistress’s homily was ditched as belonging to another age, nothing to do with a new century and the new woman she had become.

He turned to smile at her while he waited to pull out onto the main road and put a hand on her knee intending to give it a squeeze, but Kate put her hand over his and held it there. When he was ready to move off, he pulled his hand out from under hers reluctantly. Scott didn’t speak again until they came to the crossroads where he needed to choose between the mall and food or collecting her car first.

“Which?”

“Collect my car? Please. First.”

“First? Right. Will do.”

They drove in silence until they reached the practice. After Scott had pulled on the hand brake, he turned to face her and at the same time switched on the internal light. “There, I can see you better now. Your face! You should have seen it. A successful calving never loses its excitement even when you’ve done it a hundred times and more. There’s nothing to compare, is there?”

Kate shook her head. “Nothing. It was just . . . well . . . just
so
special. There’s nothing like it in the whole world. One day I shall have skills like yours; I’m determined.”

“I thought as much.”

“How on earth do you sort out twin lambs, for heaven’s sakes? All heads and feet and legs and things? How do you know what belongs to which?”

“Try lambing on a Welsh hill farm at dead of night with a freezing wind and icy sleet with it; believe me, you learn pretty sharpish what’s what.”

“Have you done that?”

“Just as a temporary for a few weeks before I went to Devon and then on to here. I worked for a Welsh farmer Dad met when he came over to a conference once. Never again. They deserve every penny they earn, farmers like him. I thought I’d never get warm again.” Scott put an arm around Kate’s shoulders and bent to kiss her. She welcomed him more eagerly than she had ever done, wrapping her arms around his neck, caressing his tongue with hers, pressing him to her, warming to a passion she had not shown before.

Though taken by surprise, Scott still managed to match passion for passion. His hands were roving over her, undoing buttons, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin, the rise of her neck from her shoulders, the sharp angle of her collarbone, the . . . Perkins barked furiously as he raced from the back door toward the Land Rover. He clamored to get in, leaping up, scraping his claws on the door, racing around and around, furious at finding someone in the car park when at this time of night it was his territory and his alone.

Miriam was with him and she tapped on the driver’s window. “Be quiet, Perkins, it’s Scott and Kate. Be quiet, I say. Hi, you two. Sorry.”

Scott wound down the window while Kate pulled herself together.

“Hi, there, Miriam. Mungo not back yet?”

“No. It’s a Caesarean, so Bunty’s gone out to give a hand. Twins. Yours was easy, was it?”

“Just needed straightening out, then it popped out nice and easy. Brought Kate to collect her car, then we’re going to eat.”

“Sorry to take up your free evening, but there was no alternative.”

“Not at all. Someone had to go.”

Miriam peered into the cab. “All right, Kate? Good experience?”

You couldn’t be resentful with her. Not with Miriam. “Marvelous! Thanks.”

“Good. I’m glad. Be seeing you. Good night.”

She went off up to the top of the car park with Perkins and disappeared into the darkness.

“I love you, Kate. Go get your car, follow me and we’ll have that meal. I’m starving.”

“So am I.” She looked at him full face and laid a gentle hand on his cheek. “I love you too.”

“If Miriam hadn’t come . . .”

“I know.”

“Would you have . . . you know.”

“Oh yes. With you.”

“I’m honored.” Scott leaned across and opened the door for her. “She’ll be back; we’d better go. Love you.”

Reluctantly Kate got out and went to her own car. She’d come so close. So close. She did love him, then. She must, to have wanted him so much. What a night. If she were fanciful, she would have classed this as a night when there’d been a turning point in her life.

She waited until he’d reversed and was facing the exit, then put her car into first gear and followed Scott to the mall, and thought about following him across the world.

They ate back at the Italian restaurant, then each drove home, mulling over the memories of their meal, the touching of hands, of minds, of souls—Scott, overcome with concern at the way their relationship had taken off, Kate filled with joy, unable to contemplate a life without him.

S
HE
began work next morning full of energy, after a blissful night’s sleep due to a long day but more so because she was in love with Scott. He was at the back of her mind all the time and filled the whole of it if there was a lull. She couldn’t wait for him to come in this morning to collect his list of calls.

Stephie noticed how happy she was and asked the reason.

“I went to a calving with Scott last night. It was brilliant. Absolutely incredible.”

“And was that all?”

“Oh yes! Well . . .”

“Yes?”

“We had a meal afterward.”

“And . . . ?”

“Nothing.”

Disbelieving the possibility of going out with a man like Scott and nothing happening between them, Stephie said, “Oh, come on! Give us the rest.”

“There wasn’t anything.”

“So what’s the cause of your sparkling eyes this morning and the moments when you’re in another world?”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

“Can’t wait for him to come in?” Stephie giggled. “Watch out, you don’t want to do another Bunty.”

Kate could have smacked her face for her. She was filled with outrage. How dare she? How dare she compare the unique beauty of what Scott and she felt for each other with what had happened to Bunty? In any case, Bunty had never actually said the baby was his. How dare she?

Before Kate managed to come up with a stinging reply, Miss Chillingsworth came into reception carrying a cat basket, and Kate had to brace herself to be polite and interested, and leave the stinging reply for later. She certainly wasn’t going to let her get away with a remark like that.

Kate put every ounce of enthusiasm she could muster into her greeting. “Why, Miss Chillingsworth, what a lovely surprise! You haven’t got a new kitten, have you? How exciting!”

“No, dear, I haven’t. I have a cat. It’s a stray. I’m very upset, actually, I’ve come early on purpose because I think it’s about to die.”

“Oh, dear. I am sorry. Tell me.”

“There’s been a cat about for ages. Then this last week it’s been looking lost and forlorn, but I didn’t want to start feeding it, thinking it belonged to someone. And I did suspect she was pregnant. I asked around if anyone knew whose she was, but they’re all too busy to bother with me and my problems. However, I didn’t see her for a day or so, then I did and I noticed she was walking awkwardly, as though she was in pain.”

“Have you got kittens in there, then?”

“Oh no! Then I heard mewing last night very late and I plucked up my courage and went to look and she was crouched in a cardboard box I’d put out for the bin men. She was in such a sorry state, and it was beginning to rain, so I picked her up very carefully and took her inside. She’s very poorly. It would be cruel to leave her without help, so . . .” Miss Chillingsworth took a deep breath. “I know I shouldn’t have done it because she isn’t mine, but someone had to do something so I’ve brought her for Mr. Murgatroyd to see. It’s very urgent, I’m sure.”

Kate lifted the lid a little and peeped inside. It didn’t need much intelligence to see that the cat was desperately ill. “He isn’t here until eleven today.”

“Oh, dear, what shall we do? I’m so worried.”

“Rhodri’s here; he’ll see to her. Come with me.”

Kate took Miss Chillingsworth into Rhodri’s consulting room and put the cat basket on the examination table. “Take a seat. I’ll get him.”

Rhodri lifted the cat out of the basket and had to lay her on the table because she was too weak to stand. “Why, there’s nothing left of her, just skin and bone.” His hands gently moved over her body feeling her ribs, her stomach. He checked her gums, lifted a pinch of her skin, opened her eyelids, spoke to her and, getting no response, looked at Miss Chillingsworth and shook his head. “She’s very ill, very dehydrated, starving too. I suspect she has been in labor for far too long and now everything has stopped. I’m pretty sure she has a kitten jammed and can’t push it out. Would you leave me awhile, Miss Chillingsworth, and I’ll see what can be done. Go and sit in reception if you wish.”

Miss Chillingsworth looked searchingly into his face. “You’re saying there’s not much hope, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“If the kittens survive and she doesn’t, then I’m very good with tiny kittens. Ask Kate, she knows. I’d gladly help.” She saw he was eager to do what he had to do to save what he could. “I’ll wait.” Before she left, she stroked the cat’s head and momentarily her eyes opened and she looked at Miss Chillingsworth in mute agony. Miss Chillingsworth was choked with emotion, convinced the cat was thanking her for getting help.

She sat in the waiting room supposedly looking at magazines, but in reality she was in the consulting room with the cat, hoping things were going well for her. Half an hour went by and she could hear Kate apologizing about an emergency and yes, Mr. Hughes would soon be starting on his client list, but it was a cruelty case, you see.

Miss Chillingsworth imagined herself feeding the tiny kittens and saving their lives. She’d get poor Cherub’s basket out again, the blankets were already washed. Her fingers twitched as though feeling the soft fur, the tiny ears. In her mind she was admiring the tiny, soft pink pads of their feet and could almost hear their mewing. Such joy!

This time she might even be brave enough to keep one for herself. Or should she have the mother instead? Maybe she needed a home more than healthy kittens did. Yes, she’d ask to keep the mother. That would be the kindest thing to do, the right thing to do. It was almost as if Cherub had been reincarnated, for the cat was white and black in very much the same pattern as she had been. Her dear Cherub. Then she remembered the kittens she’d reared playing king of the castle on the old apple box on the kitchen floor. Maybe she’d have a kitten instead and enjoy all the pleasure all over again. No, she’d have the mother and call her Cherub in memory.

Rhodri came out from the back. “Miss Chillingsworth, a word, please.”

She followed him into the consulting room and he closed the door behind her.

“Take a seat.”

“It’s bad news, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so. I was right; there was a kitten stuck, but it was already dead. I’ve managed to ease it out; there are more, possibly two or three, but the mother is far too ill for me to operate today.”

“And . . . ?”

Rhodri paused and then said, “We’ve put her on a drip, given her medication and now all we can do is hope she’ll last through the night and be able to withstand an operation to remove the remaining kittens. I must warn you she is very ill.”

Miss Chillingsworth clasped her hands under her chin. “I know I can rely on you. If she’s going to pull through, you’ll do it. I desperately want her to live. You’ll understand how strongly I feel because, being Welsh, you’ll have a passionate soul, as I do. I’ll take her home with me when she’s ready and I’ll adopt her. It’s the least I can do. Can I see her?”

Rhodri hesitated. “I’d rather you didn’t. It would upset you.”

“I see. I’ll wait.”

“It could be a long wait before she turns the corner—if, in fact, she does.”

“I could ring to ask.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve held you up.”

“I’m glad you found her.”

“So am I. I’ll ring tomorrow morning.”

Miss Chillingsworth intended stopping to have a word at reception and report progress on the cat, but only Stephie was on the desk and Kate was nowhere to be seen, so she wandered bleakly out to face being alone, without a word of comfort from a twin soul, a whole day of worry and desperation.

In fact, Kate had departed to her accounts after telling Stephie exactly what she thought of her warning. She’d also remembered that Scott was taking a couple of days off, so she wouldn’t be seeing him as she had expected, which did nothing to improve her temper. How could she be so happy one moment and so unhappy the next? Now she’d upset Stephie and as they had to work together, that was a stupid thing to have done. Her kind heart reasserted itself and Kate went to make coffee for Stephie and herself as a gesture of reconciliation.

Stephie accepted it gratefully. “Thanks. I need this. I was too late for breakfast this morning and when I do that, it always hits me about now. This is nice. Sorry I upset you; I meant it as a timely warning, etcetera, etcetera.”