Page 1 of A Cosy Christmas with the Village Vet

BROGAN

MONDAY 5TH DECEMBER

Giving in to a wide yawn, Brogan Hopwood opened the rickety door of the porch at Pond Farm and was instantly greeted by a savage blast of cold December air. It snatched her breath away, taking with it any final, lingering dregs of sleep. ‘Brrr!’ She gave a shiver, snuggling down into her dressing gown as her black Labrador pushed past and hurtled his way into the yard. ‘Don’t mind me, Wilf,’ she said, watching as he commenced his usual morning ritual of sniffing intently around the farmyard. She smiled to herself as she savoured the warmth of the mug of tea she was nursing in her hands, steam rising in a thick plume.

With her shoulders hunched against the cold, and her wild, auburn hair falling over her face, Brogan braved a step outside, her green eyes taking in the thick hoar frost that sparkled under the glow of the outside light. It took mere moments for the cold of the ancient flagstones to start seeping through her slippers. She wiggled her toes instinctively in a bid to keep them warm, not that it made the slightest bit of difference. She cast her gaze around the broad valley of Great Stangdale. At a quarter-to-seven on a winter’s morning, it was still swathed in darkness, lights from the surrounding farmsteads twinkling back at her. A tawny owl hooted from the cluster of trees nearby. Moments later, a reply travelled from the other side of the valley, clear as a bell on the still, frosty air. Wilf paused, raising a front paw off the ground, ears cocked as he listened for more, making Brogan chuckle. He glanced across at her, wagging his tail before resuming his investigation of the yard, sniffing out clues to the nocturnal wildlife that had ventured onto his territory.

She took a sip from her mug as thoughts began spilling into her mind, the first one being of an unexpected encounter she’d had with a handsome stranger a couple of weeks earlier. Releasing a sigh, she closed her eyes, a smile playing over her mouth as she savoured the delicious memory of him and his urgent kisses; it was something she’d found herself indulging in regularly since that day. Her heart rate took off at a gallop.Woah! Calm your jets, woman! Save that for later. Your mind should be focusing on other things this morning.A cluster of nerves started up, squirming away in her stomach and scattering her daydreams, reminding her of the significance of the day ahead.

Monday the fifth of December. The first day of her new job as a veterinary nurse at Danskelfe Vets. It seemed to have been in a hurry to get here. She’d been looking forward to joining the practice ever since Yvonne Peirson, the practice manager, had called, offering her the role. But as the day had drawn closer, a feeling of trepidation had taken up residence inside her, not least because it had been a few years since she’d last worked in a veterinary environment. What if her training was seriously outdated, or she’d forgotten how to do everything? What if everything had changed? What if she turned out to be not what they were looking for? What if she was useless? What if they didn’t like her? What if she didn’t likethem? ‘Ughh!’ She paused and rubbed her brow with her fingertips, reminding herself that she wouldn’t have been offered the job if they didn’t think she was capable. Yvonne had already explained that they had plans in place to ensure Brogan’s skills were refreshed and brought up to date. The only thing she’d been required to do before today was re-register as a vet nurse with the Royal College of Veterinary Nurses and pay the annual fee, which she’d already done. So what was the worry? She heaved a sigh. She needed to stop thinking like this. Needed to stop her mind from getting swept away on a wave of negativity and self-doubt, which was something she’d found, over recent years, could very easily happen if she let it.

Why, at the age of twenty-six, had she become so down on herself? she wondered. She never used to be like this. She’d always been confident; comfortable in her own skin. Her friends used to describe her as fun and bubbly with a dash of feistiness thrown in for good measure. So what had made her self-confidence do a disappearing act? An image of her ex appeared in her mind as if she’d conjured him up specially. Archie. His expression was the very one he’d worn the last time she’d spoken to him. When he'd utteredthosewords. She swallowed; she could hardly bear to be reminded of them.

Nevertheless, they managed to force their way into her mind. ‘You’re not enough… I don’t love you anymore.’

Not enough.That had somehow felt worse than him telling her he didn’t love her anymore. Brogan squeezed her eyes tight shut as her heart twisted at the reminder of the hurt those words had inflicted that day – the hurt they still had the power to resurrect, albeit to a much lesser degree. At the time, she’d been inconsolable, had cried for days.Days? Who was she kidding? She’d sobbed for weeks; couldn’t imagine the pain ever easing its grip, thought she’d never be able to move on.

But she had. And today was proof of that.

2

NICK

‘Bugger! Bugger! Bugger! How the hell’s it got to that time?’ Nick Heuston took a final bite of toast, washing it down with a quick glug of unpalatably cold tea. ‘Bleurgh!’ He pulled a face; he’d been heavy-handed with the milk again. He quickly set the mug back down on the worktop. One day, justoneday, it would be good if he could manage to be on time – or early even. Fat chance of that, he thought. He’d been exactly the same for all of his thirty-three years; he doubted he was going to change now. No matter how hard he tried, it never seemed to happen. And even on the occasions he was ready on time, he wouldn’t be able to find his wallet or his keys, or his phone. A time-sucking hunt for them would ensue, making him late, which was something he’d become infamous for. He’d set his alarm for six o’clock that morning – a whole hour earlier than necessary – and yet, somehow, that time seemed to have just trickled away with him faffing about and having nothing to show for it. ‘Procrastination is your middle name, son,’ his dad regularly joked. And, Nick had to admit, he was right.

Maudie, his black Labrador – well, she wasn’t strictly one hundred percent Labrador, there was a dash of Labradoodle in there too, giving her a slightly wavy coat and fluffy tail – eyed him with interest from her bed. She seemed to have sensed there was something different about this morning. He dashed over to the sink, adding his mug and plate to the growing pile of dirty pots. The pile of dirty pots he’d hoped to have tackled in the extra hour he’d given himself. He’d run out of clean crockery and cutlery and had had to give some a cursory rinse under the “hot” tap so he could have his morning tea and toast – the word “hot” being misleading since only icy water had flowed from the tap since his arrival at Willow Cottage; he really must get to grips with the water heating system, or at least contact the landlord about it.

‘Come on, Maudie, if we don’t get a wriggle on I’m going to be late for work.’ Nick smoothed down his dark-blond hair, which had a habit of sticking up at the front thanks to the cow lick he’d inherited from his dad, before reaching for his jacket.

Maudie blinked, looking at him as if to say, ‘And whose fault is that? I’ve been ready for hours, you’re the one who’s been “faffing about”, as you call it. As usual.’ Four-year-old Maudie was well-known – and well-loved – for her expressive face and haughty manner.

Her look tickled Nick and he chuckled. ‘I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right; I don’t know how I manage to do it either.’ He pushed his arms into his padded waxed jacket, glancing around at the poky kitchen, his eyes sweeping over the stack of cardboard boxes that were still waiting to be unpacked. There were similar piles in the tiny living room, his bedroom too, and another couple that annoyingly made the narrow hallway difficult to navigate; they were first on the list to be tackled. There was so much to do! He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a noisy sigh, making Maudie’s ears twitch.

‘Right!’ he said, purposefully. In the next moment, he strode across the room, taking her lead from the hook on the back of the door. She shot up and was beside him in a flash. ‘Ready to face the day?’ he asked her.

She looked up at him and gave a wag of her tail.

‘Come on then, young lady; let’s see what our first day at Danskelfe Vets has in store for us.’

He’d just eased his way around the boxes in the hallway when it dawned on him that he hadn’t got his keys. ‘Bugger!’ He manoeuvred his way back into the kitchen, with Maudie giving what sounded convincingly like a sigh of disapproval. Nick scanned the room, lingering on the tiny pine dresser where mail addressed to the previous occupant was piled up alongside a small fruit bowl – still empty – and a mug containing the dregs of yesterday’s cup of tea. But there was no sign of his keys. ‘Where the hell are they?’ he said to himself, scratching his head impatiently; he felt certain he’d put them on the dresser after he’d locked up last night. A disappointing sense of déjà vu crept over him. He’d promised himself he’d be different when he moved here, be more organised. So far he was failing in an epic way.

Maudie heaved another sigh and sat down. Nick glanced across at her to meet a gaze that said, “This again?”

‘I know, I know,’ he said, pushing his fingers into his hair, making his fringe ping up once more. ‘I should’ve hung them on the hook over there like I said I was going to when we first moved in.’ If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn Maudie had just rolled her eyes at him. ‘Little madam,’ he said, sotto voce, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he began rummaging amongst the letters; she certainly had bags of personality which was what he loved about her. In fact, since the recent events that had turned his life pretty much upside down, he’d been glad to have her companionship. Granted, she may be haughty and aloof, but when there was just the two of them sitting in front of the telly of an evening, him stroking her head that she’d rested in his lap, she really was the best company. Nick was naturally predisposed to be upbeat and positive, but Loretta’s betrayal had really knocked the stuffing out of him. There was no way he would have been able to pull himself round as quickly as he’d done if it hadn’t been for Maudie’s presence in his life, nudging his hand as the tears had fallen, or trotting over, a ball in her mouth, her eyes pleadingly saying, ‘Come on, Dad. Please be okay. Let’s play!’

Yes, it was fair to say, she’d helped him move on, helped him drag his sorry butt out of bed each morning, able to face the day. Well, that and a little unexpected interlude with a rather attractive stranger. The said rather attractive stranger he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind since he’d met her a couple of weeks ago. Not that he was grumbling about it. On the contrary, it had been refreshingly pleasant to have something else to occupy his mind rather than his somewhat bruised heart. Which was exactly why Nick had been happy to let his mind wander to the attractive stranger who’d managed to make him smile again.

3

BROGAN

She’d thought he was her forever; that they’d grow old together. And she’d thought he’d wanted that too; at least, he’d certainly led her to believe that from all the conversations they’d shared, curled up on the sofa of their rented cottage, his arm around her, squeezing her tight. Archie had been the driving force behind their talks of the future; he’d had it all mapped out. They’d be engaged within the year, married the following one – at that fancy hotel over in the Dales. A year after that, they’d buy their own place – Archie had his eye on one of the spacious houses on the little estate of new-builds just on the edge of Skeltwick – and a couple of years after that, they’d start a family – two kids; a girl and a boy. By then, Archie would be driving a large, top of the range, four-wheel drive. ‘We’re perfect for each other, Broge, soulmates, and we’re going to have an amazing life together,’ he’d regularly said. Brogan had been thoroughly swept away by it all. And she’d had no reason to doubt him or worry that his words would be as flimsy as tissue paper. Until the Sunday evening he’d returned home from a business trip in a strange mood. He’d been distant and cold, and done all he could to avoid making eye contact with her. Brogan had been utterly thrown by it. ‘I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t,’ he’d said sharply when she’d asked him what was wrong. ‘The more I think about it, the more I know it’s not for me.’ He’d headed upstairs and started throwing his things into a case. ‘The thought of being tied down, married with kids for the next twenty years, fills me with the worst kind of dread. It’s the last thing I want. I want to live life forme. Live it to the fullest without having to compromise for someone else.’

‘Where’s this come from, Archie?’ she’d asked, a feeling of panic rising inside her. ‘Why are you saying this?’

‘I’ve just been thinking, that’s all. Talking to Phil; he’s got life sussed.’ He’d looked at her with an expression she didn’t recognise. ‘We’re over. Finished.’ He’d followed up with the words that had haunted her for the last three years. ‘You’re not enough. I don’t love you anymore.’

And with that, the bottom had fallen out of her world.

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