Page 19 of A Cosy Christmas with the Village Vet

After a surprisingly brief hunt around in the darkness for his keys – they’d conveniently jangled in the pocket of his waxed jacket as he’d gone to put it on – he was eager to get going. ‘Coming, Maudie?’ he said as he reached for her lead. She jumped up and trotted down the hall. Nick followed, knocking his knee on one of the boxes, sending an excruciating shot of pain through his leg. ‘Ouch! Bloody, buggering ouch!’ He rubbed his knee vigorously. He was beginning to think the house of doom had got it in for him.

Lytell Stangdale looked utterly charming as he drove along the main street searching for the pub, his windscreen wipers swiping away the sleety snowflakes that had started to flurry just as he’d set off. The village’s chocolate-box pretty thatched cottages, illuminated by traditional-style street lights, looked all set for the festive season with Christmas trees twinkling in their windows and wreaths on their doors. Many had smaller Christmas trees in their gardens too, adding to the cosy scene.

By the time he’d pulled up outside the Sunne, Nick had managed to thaw out a little thanks to the car’s heater and the heated seats. His hair was still damp though, and he knew about it as soon as he stepped out into the cold night air, the icy wind rushing over his skin and nipping at his ears. Squinting against the sleet, he walked briskly down the path to the pub.

The warm wave that hit him when he opened the stout oak door was more welcome than he’d expected, soothing him instantly. The place was surprisingly busy for a Monday evening in December, he thought as he cast his eyes around the sea of people. Maudie looked on with interest as a young girl hurried by with plates in her hands piled high with scrumptious looking food – one of which looked suspiciously like a steak pie, reminding him of just how hungry he was.Oh, thank you, Lord!It smelled mouth-wateringly good. Nick chuckled as Maudie’s nose shot up in the air, sniffing enthusiastically. ‘Smells tasty, doesn’t it, lass?’ She gave him a sideways look, wagging her tail.

The room was thrumming with conversation, the odd laugh floating over the top. From what Nick could see, most of the tables were taken and there was a huddle of people at the bar. But he was undeterred; he didn’t care how long he had to wait, he was determined to savour the ambience of the place and, more importantly, sample some of that pie and gravy.

As he walked towards the bar, his heart gave a jolt. Surely that couldn’t be Brogan pulling a pint? He paused, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Did she work here as well as at the surgery? His eyes lingered on her. She looked beautiful with the mellow light picking out golden highlights in her dark auburn hair. She was laughing and chatting animatedly to a dark-haired man. As if sensing he was watching, she glanced up, her eyes locking with Nick’s. If he wasn’t mistaken, her smile widened, sending happiness surging through him.

In the next moment, a lady wearing chef’s whites and a pair of tortoiseshell glasses perched on her blonde bob came from what he assumed was the kitchen. She was walking steadily and carrying a cake, its candles flickering away. A cheer went up and Brogan turned, her face a picture of confusion as the lady made her way towards the bar.

18

BROGAN

Brogan didn’t know what to think. Unless her eyes were playing some kind of trick on her, Nick, her new boss, had just walked into the pub with Maudie. Unable to tear her gaze from his, her heart started racing, that now familiar charge pulsing through her body. She wouldn’t have been able to stop her smile from spreading across her face if she’d wanted to. Before she had chance to consider the reasons behind his unexpected appearance, an almighty cheer rang around the room and she turned to see Bea walking towards her with what looked like a large cake in her hands. Frowning, Brogan’s mind scrambled to process what was happening around her, her hand stilled on the beer pump. What was this all about? Was it somebody’s birthday? Was it an anniversary? If so, how had she forgotten? Or has it got something to do with Nick turning up, here, in the Sunne? Her mind was whirling.

‘Brogan, my dear, you might have noticed the pub is a little busier than normal for a wintry Monday evening,’ said Jonty, giving an enigmatic smile.

‘Yes, I’d just been thinking that actually,’ she said, confused, as she glanced around at the smiling faces looking back at her.

‘Well, there’s a jolly good reason for it,’ said Portia, beaming broadly.

‘There is?’ Brogan’s frown deepened; she was beginning to feel a little self-conscious.

‘There is,’ said Bea, setting the cake down on the bar. ‘We couldn’t let you simply slip away, my darling. We had to say goodbye to you properly. We’ve loved having you work for us and we’ll miss you terribly.’

‘Hear, hear,’ said Jonty.

‘We so will,’ said Portia. ‘And you’ve got to promise you’ll still come and have a catch up with me; still pop in so we can go for a walk with the dogs.’

‘Course I will.’ Brogan felt a lump forming in her throat but she somehow managed to force a smile.Keep it together.

‘Good,’ Portia said resolutely, flashing a happy grin. ‘Anyway, we thought we’d get a little cake organised for you; mention it to a few of the locals.’

Brogan looked on, speechless. When she eventually found her voice she said, ‘You got me a cake?’ The touching gesture had sent her emotions rising to the surface. Tears swam in her eyes and she fought to keep them at bay. Before she knew what was happening, she found herself engulfed in a cloud of sweet perfume as Portia swept her up in a hug, squeezing her tightly. ‘And you’ve got to promise me you’ll still call in for a bite to eat with us,’ she said in Brogan’s ear.

‘Promise,’ said Brogan, her throat tight. It was beginning to feel like she was heading to the ends of the earth, rather than just switching her job, but Portia always did love a bit of drama.

‘Good. You’re like a daughter to Mummy and Daddy; having you around stops their nest from feeling empty while I’m away.’

Brogan wasn’t so sure about that, but she knew Portia meant well. A sob caught in her throat. She looked over to see Nick smiling at her just as a plump tear plopped onto her cheek and rolled down her face. ‘Oh, that’s so kind of you.’ Her voice cracked and her bottom lip wobbled.

A collective ‘Ahh” ran around the room, and she mustered up a shaky smile.

Get a grip, Brogan!‘I’ll still be coming back in as a customer, so you haven’t got rid of me that easily.’ She laughed, swiping her tears away. ‘But if it means I get a gorgeous cake like this one, then I’m not complaining.’ Her words triggered a ripple of laughter around the bar. Making light of it was definitely the best way to go with this, especially with so many people she knew looking on. And, worse, Nick! Brogan had never been one for showing her emotions in public and her discomfort was beginning to make her squirm a little. She dreaded to think what her new boss would be making of all of this.

‘We’re not complaining either, chick, if it means we get a slice,’ said Kitty, grinning broadly.

‘Too right,’ said Ollie.

‘It’s a gorgeous cake, Bea. Did you make it?’ asked Kitty’s cousin Molly.

‘Oh, I wish,’ said Bea. ‘A very talented lady called Jasmine from Micklewick Bay made it. She’d done one for a friend of mine, which was absolutely divine. It was covered in sugar paste flowers that looked unbelievably lifelike, it got me thinking. I just had to ask her to make one for you. Anyway, you need to blow the candles out before they melt everywhere. Don’t forget to make a wish, darling.’

Brogan gazed admiringly at the cake which was covered in green fondant icing. It featured a sugar paste girl with a wide smile and long auburn hair who appeared to be dressed in vet nurse scrubs. Around her were positioned a variety of sugar paste animals, including a dog who looked remarkably like Wilf, and mounds of what appeared to be sugar paste heather. The words “Good Luck Brogan!” ran around the base which had also been covered in fondant icing.

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