Page 65 of A Cosy Christmas with the Village Vet

They spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa, talking and laughing, with a liberal dose of kisses sprinkled in between. They’d agreed to take things slowly and not dive slap-bang into an intense relationship, which they knew it had the potential to be. Brogan took comfort from the fact that Nick wanted to get to know her; he’d suggested that they should go out on dates as they would if they weren’t living under the same roof. ‘I appreciate our circumstances are a little unusual, and we’ve done things somewhat back-to-front,’ he said, ‘but don’t worry, I’m not going to assume that our new status means I can stay living here permanently. I’ll move out as soon as somewhere comes up.’ Despite the flash of disappointment his words triggered, she knew it was wise.

Brogan felt blissfully happy to be cuddled up beside Nick, to have his arms wrapped tight around her. She felt secure and loved. She hadn’t felt that way for quite some time. At the back of her mind, she got the sense that this was a pivotal moment in her life, something that was exciting, though she couldn’t deny, it scared her a little.

‘I’m so glad I took the job at Danskelfe,’ Nick said. It had just gone midnight and they were standing in the kitchen, having made sure all the doors were secured before going to bed. Wilf and Maudie were curled up together on the cushions, snoozing. Nick had his arms around Brogan’s waist and was smiling down at her.

‘Me too.’ Smiling back at him, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. He bent to kiss her, sending emotions flurrying around her body. Wow! This was heady stuff. She could feel her resolve weakening by the second. It would be so easy to invite him into her bed, but… No! She’d stand firm; stick to the plan.

Rather than jumping straight into bed, they’d agreed to sleep separately until Brogan felt comfortable for their relationship to head back there – Nick told her jokingly he could be ready at a moment’s notice. ‘Just putting that out there,’ he’d said, making her giggle. He’d gone on to reassure her that he understood that after what had happened with her previous relationship she needed to feel she could trust him. After all, they hadn’t known each other long.

Brogan climbed into bed, running her fingers over her lips that were bruised from an evening of Nick’s delicious kisses. Happiness fizzed inside her.

If only she hadn’t crept out of his room that night she could have been feeling this way a whole lot sooner. But there was no point looking back, she quickly told herself. She had a good feeling in her stomach. This was the start of a new chapter in her life, she was sure of it.

Closing her eyes, she was aware of her grandma’s voice in her head, words from a conversation they’d had when Brogan had first come to live at Pond Farm, her heart sore from Archie’s cruel words. ‘You’ll know when you’re ready to fall in love again, sweetheart. I promise you. You won’t question it, you won’t be in any doubt about it. You’ll just know.’

It would seem her grandma was right.

40

NICK

Nick was pushing bacon around the pan, whistling cheerfully, when Brogan came into the room. Wilf and Maudie jumped up and greeted her with a vigorous bout of tail wagging. Nick turned, smiling at her dishevelled appearance, her hair standing out around her face like an auburn cloud. ‘Morning. Been in a wind tunnel through the night?’ he asked with a chuckle.

‘Cheeky.’ She lifted her hand to smooth her hair down. ‘I forgot to put my hair in a plait before I went to bed. I blame you for distracting me.’ She smiled, the imprint of pillow creases on her right cheek more obvious as she headed over to him.

‘Given half the chance.’ He bent his head and kissed her deeply, following up with a wide smile. After the rotten few months he’d had, with just about everything going wrong that could go wrong, it was good to be feeling this full-on happy again. And what a reason for it, he thought. ‘Oh, and you might be interested to know the King of Drool has been excelling himself this morning. Maudie is seriously unimpressed. You should’ve seen the filthy looks she’s been giving him.’

Brogan chuckled. ‘Oh, Wilf, what are you like?’ She bent to smooth his velvety head, his tail beating a tattoo against the floor.

After last night’s breakthrough in their relationship, Nick couldn’t help but wish he’d organised for Mike to come over and replace the lock on a different day. Same with the meeting with Gary Trotter. Nick would much rather spend the day with Brogan, just the two of them and Wilf and Maudie. But he knew replacing the lock and meeting Trotter were both priorities that couldn’t be put off.

He waited for Mike to arrive before he set off for the village. The handyman got down to the task in hand straight away. He set his tool box down by the door, saying he was keen to get started on account of the snow that was forecast for later in the day. ‘By ’eck, this is as old as the bloomin’ hills, this thing,’ he said as he popped his glasses on and examined the lock on the porch door. ‘Anyone who knew what they were doing could have it picked in a minute; that’d have your insurance up the creek straight away.’

‘At least we’re getting it fixed now,’ said Nick, giving Brogan’s arm a reassuring rub when he noticed her worried expression.

‘True. And I really appreciate you coming out at such short notice, Mike,’ Brogan said as she handed him a cup of tea.

‘No worries, flower. We’ll have a sound one in its place before you know it.’ Mike smiled as he took the mug.

En route to Lytell Stangdale, Nick called in on Bert to see if he needed anything picking up from the village shop, telling him he was heading there to collect the Sunday papers before his meeting at Arkleby with the obnoxious Gary Trotter. He really wasn’t looking forward to that.

Bert was pleased to see him, quizzing him eagerly to find out if he’d heard anything more about the thugs who’d taken Nell. In truth, though the awful events of that evening had featured regularly in Nick’s mind, certain other matters had been occupying a great chunk of his thoughts. Nevertheless, he shared what he knew, that there’d been no further sightings of the van, and no reports of anyone snooping around the farms. Nick reminded the elderly man of PC Snaith’s assurances that they would find the criminals and bring Nell back home. His words seemed to brighten Bert whose cough, Nick noted, didn’t seem to be as bad.

The roads to the village were as treacherous as Mike had warned. And though Camm had done a thorough job of ploughing them, there’d been a brief thaw which had melted some of the snow on the roadside. Hours later the temperature had plummeted to well below zero, creating a smooth layer of ice which, on ungritted roads, was lethal.

Nick glanced up at the sky where clusters of dense clouds were clumped together. He doubted it would get properly light today. As he drove on, snowflakes started flurrying, settling on the windscreen. He flicked the wipers on, thinking how glad he’d be to get back home to Brogan later that afternoon. It sent a wave of warmth washing over him.

Lytell Stangdale was quiet when he parked up, snow tumbling silently. Nick noticed the family of snowmen on the green had increased in numbers. The local children had been busy! A particularly large snowman was sporting what looked like a rather damp feather boa in a vibrant shade of orange. The amusing sight brought a smile to his lips.

Just as he was about to get out of the car, his phone pinged with a text. He fished it out of his pocket. The message was from Brogan saying she’d had a text from Molly, warning them to be on high alert. Nick’s heart rate spiked as he read. The dark-grey van had been spotted fleeing from Low Beck Farm over in Arkleby not five minutes ago and had subsequently been seen heading towards Lytell Stangdale on the Danskelfe road. Molly had told her Camm was going to try and cut them off at the other end of the village. ‘Shit! Not this again.’ His first thought was of Brogan, grateful she wasn’t alone at Pond Farm. His next thought was that if the criminals were back in the area, then the police stood a better chance of apprehending them.

He’d just climbed out of his four-wheel drive, turning his collar up against the cold, when the sound of an engine screeching cut through the wintry peace of the village. He turned towards the direction of the noise, his mouth falling open as he saw a dark-grey van heading down the middle of the road. It was them! And they were travelling dangerously fast for the conditions. The noise was quickly joined by the wailing siren of a police vehicle. Nick was just about to jump back in his car and join the chase when the van skidded, clipping a nearby parked car, before righting itself and heading down the road again, slush flying everywhere as its wheels spun. Seconds later, Camm appeared behind the wheel of the looming bulk of the plough which he positioned such that he’d completely blocked the road. The driver of the van braked hard, the vehicle spinning a full three-hundred-and-sixty degrees before coming to a halt perilously close to the pond. As Nick ran towards it he was aware of the police car stopping beside him, parking diagonally across the road. PC Snaith and another officer jumped out, raised voices filling the air as two black-clad criminals fled the van. In the next moment, the ear-splitting squawks of Reg, Jimby’s cantankerous cockerel, joined the commotion.

It didn’t take long before the disruption brought locals out onto their chilly doorsteps to see what was happening in their usually peaceful village.

With the snow falling relentlessly, Jimby shot by, his arms pumping like pistons, his breath coming out in puffs of steam as he raced towards the van.

In the background, Nick was half aware of the continuous squawking of the cockerel accompanied by angry shouting.

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