Page 22 of A Cosy Christmas with the Village Vet

NICK

Nick couldn’t believe how his evening had turned around. Talk about extremes. It had gone from him being blasted by an icy shower in a freezing cold cottage that had been plunged into darkness when he was in the said icy shower, to sitting beside a roaring fire in a cosy pub that positively oozed character with its low, oak-beamed ceiling and sumptuous tweed soft furnishings, in the warm embrace of a bunch of friendly locals, who included him in their banter like they’d known him for years. And if that wasn’t enough, he’d just ordered a steak and mushroom pie with rich ale gravy and mashed potato, the thought of which almost made him drool. But most importantly of all, he was sitting opposite Brogan. Lovely Brogan. Could life get any better? he wondered. Hmm. Actually, it could, he thought as his mind wandered back to their time in his hotel room, her in his arms, her body pressed close to his.

‘So, how are you finding it round here, Nick? Have you settled in yet?’ asked Jimby.

Nick swallowed his mouthful of shandy and shook the image from his mind. ‘Mmm. I haven’t been here long, but first impressions are good – apart from the cottage I’m renting over in Arkleby, but I’m only staying there temporarily, so I suppose it’s not too bad.’

‘’What’s up with the cottage?’ asked Molly.

Nick rolled his eyes. ‘Ughh! Where to start?’ He went on to tell them about the problem with the hot water, the heating and the lack of electricity. They listened, making various sympathetic sounds. ‘So if anyone has the name of a good plumber or electrician, I’d be eternally grateful.’

‘It’s the landlord’s responsibility to put those things right and make sure the house is safe to be rented out,’ said Kitty.

‘Kitty’s right,’ said Vi.

‘Out of interest, what’s the name of the property?’ asked Camm, his thick, dark brows drawn together.

‘Willow Cottage, on the main street in Arkleby.’

A chorus of groans and snorts ensued. ‘Gary and Jackie Trotter,’ said Molly.

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ said Jimby, rolling his eyes.

‘They’ve been told about that place; it’s a safety hazard. Apparently there was a gas fire in the living room that was as old as the hills and absolutely lethal by all accounts. The last tenants reported it, which resulted in it being condemned. The Trotters were supposed to have had it removed.’ Molly shook her head.

This wasn’t sounding good. ‘Well, from what you’ve described, it’s still in situ and it probably explains why it wasn’t working when I tried to turn it on,’ Nick said.

‘Bloody hell, Nick, I wouldn’t touch it again,’ said Ollie, his face serious. ‘In fact, I’d find some alternative accommodation as soon as you can. The Trotters have a few properties around here and have gained a reputation for not keeping them in good order. I wouldn’t touch them with a barge pole.’

‘There wasn’t much choice, to be honest.’ Nick scratched his head. ‘The only other property available for rent had been snapped up the day before my appointment to view it.’ An image of his shiny, new, contemporary home at Middleton-le-Moors bloomed in his mind. It stood in stark contrast to the pitiful, unloved cottage he was going back to that evening.

‘Willow Cottage sounds dangerous, Nick. You really need to find somewhere else. I heard recently from someone who was renting one of their properties in Danskelfe that a storage heater started smoking. Turned out there was a loose wire; could’ve caused a fire,’ said Brogan, her forehead creased, her green eyes filled with concern. It touched him that she seemed to care.

‘Bloody hell, they’re a disgrace. We’ll ask around, see if anything suitable’s about to come free; get you out of there,’ said Vi.

‘Thanks, I’d appreciate that.’ Their kindness warmed Nick’s heart.

The evening progressed with Nick tucking into his steak and mushroom pie, which had been delicious. Wilf had crawled commando-style undetected from his place in front of the fire to sit beside him, drooling prolifically and watching every forkful going to Nick’s mouth, hopeful that a morsel might come his way, until Brogan noticed and sent him back to his friends. ‘I don’t think so, young man. You’ve had your tea. Go on.’

Conversation flowed freely, with Nick’s new friends asking questions in an interested, rather than nosy, way. It felt like he’d been part of their group for way longer than a mere handful of hours. Nick learned that Ella and Joss not only ran a boarding kennels up at Camplin Hall Farm, but they also took in stray animals. That would be handy to know if he encountered any homeless creatures that needed a temporary place to stay. And of course, there was Brogan, whose leg kept accidentally touching his, her eyes opening wide whenever it did. Sitting near her had to be the bonus of the evening (even beating the steak and mushroom pie!). It was taking all his strength for his body not to react to her, to ignore the urge to reach across, take her face in his hands and kiss her full on the mouth. To be reminded of exactly how it felt, to be hit by that blaze of emotions once more. How would she react if he threw caution to the wind and did just that? he wondered. It would set tongues wagging, no doubt about it. The way her lips had felt on his, all warm and soft, came rushing back to him, making his heart take off.

‘If you’re serious about being keen to be part of the local community, then you might be interested in joining our village committee, Nick,’ said Camm.

‘I definitely am,’ said Nick, nodding enthusiastically and hurriedly squashing down his wayward feelings. There might be a use for that cold shower after all, he mused.

‘Aye, we raise funds throughout the year so we can help support local causes. We’re always trying to think of new ways to do it. We’ve done all sorts. The last one was an auction of promises to help raise money to go towards the local primary school’s new extension. It was a bloody brilliant night,’ said Jimby, taking a gulp of his beer.

‘It so was,’ said Kristy.’

‘It did really well, raised loads,’ said Anoushka.

‘And the best part is the meetings usually take place here, in the pub,’ said Ollie with a grin.

‘It’s sounding more and more tempting.’ Nick chuckled.

‘And the next one just so happens to be on Wednesday,’ said Camm.

‘In that case, how do I put my name down?’ Nick beamed, making them all laugh.

---