Page 18 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets (Hartfell Village #2)
Erin crept downstairs in the morning, still keen to avoid Oli.
She was on call for the rest of the weekend, and he was working too, taking routine Saturday morning appointments.
She made tea and sat on the sofa to appreciate it.
After her call to Mungo’s owners earlier in the week to confirm his results, she’d arranged to meet them today.
Over the years she’d got more used to the emotional ups and downs that came with her career, but she’d never lose the sadness and empathy for tasks like the one she had to carry out this morning.
But it wasn’t only thoughts of her patient and his family unsettling her.
Oli’s presence in the cottage was something she couldn’t ignore; his coat hanging beside hers, boots propped neatly in front of the sofa, every small detail making it appear he was at home here too.
She heard him upstairs and went to the kitchen for her flask; if she was called out to an emergency she could be gone for hours.
‘Morning.’ Oli’s tread was slow, deliberate, as he made his way downstairs, and Erin wished she’d left five minutes earlier. His auburn hair was still tousled from sleep, and he ran a hand through it, covering a yawn with the other one. ‘Are you off to see that dog?’
‘Yes.’ Work made perfect sense when what she felt about Oli really didn’t, and she was glad he’d kept the conversation to practical matters. ‘I’m due there in thirty minutes.’
‘Coffee before you go?’ He stepped past her to the machine, opening the cupboard to find a capsule and swapping plugs with the toaster. ‘Just this once? The caffeine might help.’
‘No thanks. I’m still a tea morning, noon and night person.’
‘I’ve no idea how you even begin to function without coffee.’ He removed the water tank and filled it. ‘I can barely blink before I’ve had my first.’
She remembered that about him and she was doing it again, falling into his smile and the memories they shared. ‘Sorry I don’t have any espresso cups.’ She eyed the too-large mug he’d been using all week. ‘I should get you some.’
‘Don’t apologise, the coffee still tastes the same.’ He paused, the mug in his hand. ‘Would you like me to come with you, to see the dog? I don’t have to be at the practice until nine.’
About to rush out a refusal along with a retort about why he thought she might need company for a task she’d performed so many times already, she paused.
She remembered Honey and how distraught Oli had been over her passing, that he hadn’t been able to be with her.
‘No thanks,’ she ended up whispering, before clearing the catch in her throat. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Erin checked she’d got everything she needed then offered a hurried goodbye as she left the cottage.
Ten minutes later Mungo’s owners welcomed her with tremulous smiles and showed her into the sitting room, where he was lying on his comfortable bed in front of the fire.
She bent to greet him and gently rubbed his head, blinking back her sadness when his tail thumped a welcome.
She turned to his family and talked them through the procedure, satisfied they were certain about continuing.
Moments later it was done. She checked for a heartbeat and confirmed he had gone, offering her sincere condolences.
His family cried as they held him, and Erin stepped aside, not wanting to intrude.
They thanked her for coming and helping Mungo to slip away in peace at home, sharing a distracted goodbye.
Outside she sat for a few moments behind the wheel, waiting for her sorrow to subside.
Shortly after she took a call about a cat who was vomiting and arranged with the owner to bring it into the surgery that afternoon if there was no improvement.
She drove back to the village, thinking about going home instead of into the practice, and pulled over to check her phone when a notification arrived.
Oli had been added to the staff group chat and she wasn’t expecting a new message to be from him now he was in her contacts again.
Meet me at the shop if you’ve got time? My shout.
She was nearby, so she left the pickup; it would only take her a minute to run back if she was called out.
She adored the village shop, once the front room of a cottage, and popping in to chat with Daphne and Violet, the two sisters who ran it.
Violet had worked there all her life and Daphne had joined her a few years ago after the end of her marriage.
Violet’s baking was legendary, and every weekend Erin picked up something delicious to enjoy at home.
Oli was waiting outside, propped against the wall and causing her stomach to flutter annoyingly. He was wrapped up against the chill too, the beanie and a scarf back on, his smile one of understanding edged with sympathy.
‘Okay?’ He straightened up and she nodded.
There was a softness in his question and she had a sudden, unwelcome image of coming home to Jason, trying to picture him wanting to know if she was all right, and simply couldn’t.
But perhaps that wasn’t fair; he didn’t understand the emotional highs and lows of being a vet in the same way Oli did.
‘Yes. Thank you for asking.’
‘So I haven’t got long but I thought you might appreciate something to warm you up. You always did love a bacon buttie and I’ve put in an order with Daphne, so you don’t have to hang around. Gil told me they’re the best in the dale.’
‘You didn’t have to do that.’ But the idea had already taken hold, and Erin couldn’t decide if it was his thoughtfulness or the anticipation of tucking in that was pleasing her the most. Maybe both.
The bell above the door tinkled as they entered and made their way past shelves laden with almost every kind of necessity.
One wall was groceries and another was books, greeting cards and maps, a large American fridge between them.
The wooden shelves behind the counter still held old-fashioned jars of sweets with a set of scales for weighing, and there was even a haberdashery section at the far end, with cooking utensils alongside basic tools, batteries, and bicycle pumps.
The shop had recently become a hub for Amazon, and it was a lifeline for all who lived in the village.
‘Morning, Daphne.’ Oli paused at the counter with Erin, and she also greeted the woman, whose warm hazel eyes were emphasised by a pair of green glasses.
Daphne had been very kind since Erin had moved to Hartfell, and Erin bought all her milk, bread and vegetables here.
Daphne had recently added homemade frozen ready meals to their range, which kept Erin going when sometimes she was too busy and tired to cook for herself.
‘You’re right on time, Oli, they’re ready.
’ Daphne’s smile encompassed both of them and Erin’s mouth watered when she placed two hot sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper on the counter.
‘One well done with brown sauce, no butter, and one with egg and ketchup, both on sourdough. Have I got that right?’
‘Perfect, thanks Daphne.’
Erin was surprised he’d also remembered exactly how she liked her bacon butties.
‘How’s Violet?’ she asked instead, glancing along the corridor to the kitchen to see if Daphne’s older sister was in sight.
Violet lived with dementia and found some everyday tasks beyond her now, but her gift for baking had never altered.
‘She’s all right, Erin, thank you for asking.
’ Daphne’s smile was a resigned one as she completed Oli’s payment.
‘Her mince pies are flying out of the shop almost faster than she can make them. Pippa’s ordered some for the gallery opening and I keep asking Violet if it’s too much for her now, but she insists that it’s not and she’s happiest when she’s busy.
I suppose it’s what she’s always known, and I keep a close eye on her.
I am going to advertise for some help though, in the new year. ’
‘I’ll let you know if I hear of anyone,’ Erin promised.
Another thing she loved about rural farm work was that it kept her in touch with the people who didn’t live in the centre of the village and news was passed along the dale from farm to farm as it always had been.
One retired farmer had let out his land and moved into a cottage in the village.
He loved to sit at the bus stop and chat with the people passing by, either locals going about their business or visitors passing through, and she appreciated his stories when she had time to pause.
They thanked Daphne and returned outside. Erin loved these sharp, clear days, the high fells glistening with a scattering of snow, frost clinging to bare branches like icy fingers.
‘My car or yours?’
‘Mine,’ she told him, setting off. ‘Then I can chuck you out if I get a call and have to go.’
Back inside the pickup, which wasn’t much warmer without the engine running, Erin bit into her buttie. ‘Thank you,’ she muttered after the first mouthful. ‘This is amazing and exactly what I needed.’
‘You’re welcome. I thought it might set you up for the day.’
It would help, but it was his kindness that was forefront in her mind. That he’d remembered how she liked her bacon, had ordered for her so she wouldn’t have to wait long if she needed to go.
‘Are you going to the gallery opening later?’ She’d heard him chatting about it with Elaine yesterday; all the staff were popping in at some point, excited to see the changes to the youth hostel that Pippa and a team of builders had been working on these past months.
‘That’s the plan after I finish at the practice. My dad’s difficult to buy for and I thought I might see something there. He likes art.’
‘Will you be at home for Christmas?’ Erin wasn’t even sure where home was for Oli; she’d already heard that he kept a virtual business office address in London and rented a studio flat in Hertfordshire.