Page 3 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets
She chose St Catharine’s, aware that a Cambridge First pinned to her CV could set her apart, and she wasn’t leaving home and her family for anything less. Erin dared not even think of the dizzying debt she would incur, despite the increased bursary afforded to those who’d received free school meals. Ahead of her now lay six testing years of hard graft and absolutely nothing was going to stand in the way of her ambition.
Michaelmas term began with Matriculation, students’ official registration onto their degree courses. She wore the only suitable outfit she possessed for the formal ceremony, a black dress that sat neatly just below the knee and a gown bought from a previous student. Before leaving home she’d splashed out on her first-ever professional haircut and although she loved the new bangs framing her face, she felt they made her appear even younger than her eighteen years, a milestone she’d passed just three months ago in June. The strange black gown was also unfamiliar, and she wondered anxiously how much she stood out, if the bursary she’d needed to get here and her life in an ordinary Yorkshire town was as obvious to everyone else as it felt to her. She tried not to make herself conspicuous amongst the other students, almost all of whom seemed much glossier and way more confident than her.
She’d waved her mum off outside the Porters’ Lodge, trying to hold back her fears for Heather on the return journey and how her mum would cope each day without her help. She had once mentioned not going to university at all and finding a job instead, but her mum had been vehemently against it.
After the ceremony, the freshers made their way to Main Court for the official photographs, surrounded on three sides by magnificent and notable buildings, lining up to take their seats facing an immaculate green lawn and the college’s grand entrance between a pair of high stone pillars topped with finials. Erin stared in awe at her new surroundings, still slightly dazed she had joined the historic list of college members and that her name here would live on.
She noticed him immediately; it was impossible not to. Half a head above the boy nearest him, this one already carried the authority of a man, albeit a very young one. Dark auburn hair swept back from a high forehead glinted in the early autumn sunshine and she was near enough to notice a scattering of freckles across his face as he turned to laugh at something his companion was saying. His mouth was outlined by perfect bow-shaped lips above a square jaw, and something strange erupted in her stomach. Thoroughly distracted by both him and the occasion, her left foot caught a chair leg and dislodged it.
‘You numpty,’ she blurted out. It was her nan’s favourite word for nearly everything and the habit had stuck. Erin’s arm shot out to catch the chair and she was aware of a few heads turning to stare. Including, she was mortified to see, the tall and good-looking boy on whom her gaze had been clamped.
Horribly conscious of heat staining her cheeks as his amused gaze caught hers, she glared back, silently daring him to suggest she was out of place here because those two words had revealed her to be a plain-speaking Yorkshire lass. Still clutching the chair, her free hand darted to the shorter strawberry blonde curls grazing her shoulders. His eyes followed the gesture and sent her pulse into a spin as his lips widened into a smile. His hand reached out and she felt the unwelcome brush of his fingers as he too took hold of the chair.
‘I’m sorry, how clumsy of me.’ The only accent evident in his low voice was the one she’d expected, speaking of privilege and private schools. ‘Please, let me.’
‘It wasn’t your fault. It was me who knocked it. Bloody heels.’
‘But still.’ Between them they righted the chair and there was no reason to linger. She realised eyes she’d thought were grey were actually blue and they were still fixed on hers as other students edged past them. If there had been room in the line Erin would’ve planted her hands on her hips like her nan did when she was mad about something and asked him what he thought he was staring at.
She was caught, trapped by his attention and an overwhelming feeling of attraction she’d never experienced before. She turned down invitations for dates, and would-be boyfriends drifted away when they realised how much time she devoted to her studies and her dream of securing an independent future, one where she wouldn’t be left behind with nothing, like her mum when her father had disappeared.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ Her cheeks felt as though they were on fire, and it had nothing to do with the chair she’d almost knocked over.
‘Because I just do.’ His smile was a lazy one and she couldn’t think why he was still lingering, unless it was to drag out her humiliation. Seconds crawled by as she tried to decide how to respond, half hoping her silence would give him her reply instead.
‘Okay, so then I guess I’ll see you around, stranger.’ The amusement in his face faded and she had the inexplicable sense that he’d just seen straight through to her soul, as though every part of her had been laid bare before him. She couldn’t even take a step back for fear she’d crash into someone else and embarrass herself all over again. He turned and she took a steadying breath, trying not to follow him with her eyes as he moved away.
Erin found out later his name was Oli Sterling and that he was also planning to become a vet. From his voice and the crowd who surrounded him, she didn’t imagine that his grandad had played in his old colliery brass band until he hadn’t got enough breath left to blow, or his nan worked two jobs to put food on the table in between running the home and helping her grown-up daughter when she was experiencing a bad flare-up.
After the box room back home her accommodation felt huge, and it took Erin a while to settle in. White walls and pale wood furnishings were clean and plain, and she filled the shelves above her desk with items from home, like the cross stich of a Persian cat her nan had made for her, a favourite quote from Christopher Robin about being stronger than she knew, and the photos from her time with the animal sanctuary, reminding her daily why she was here.
Oli was impossible to avoid, especially as they shared a floor in Sherlock Court, and they were often together in small groups, or ‘supervisions’, to study. She’d sneak glances at him, cross with herself for the curiosity he sparked in her, and blush furiously if he caught her. He’d grin back with that same confidence, and she’d wonder why he bothered with her, certain he saw her as nothing more than a stranger in this hallowed world in which she now lived.
As ever, studying was her salvation, and she threw herself into it. They were soon immersed in an intensive introduction to the practical and scientific world of veterinary medicine, beginning years of learning in animal husbandry and genetics, biochemistry, molecular biology, and physiology. It was a ten-minute cycle to the vet school from her flat and she was thankful every day that she’d saved enough to buy her own bicycle to get her around town.
She loved the ancient Sherlock Library but found her home in the more contemporary Shakeshaft Library instead. Every night after she’d eaten she’d head to her usual spot and study until eleven, unless she and Carys went out first. Erin had bonded with Carys, who came from a hardy Welsh farming family, over pizza one night. She’d recognised a kindred spirit in Carys, another young woman proud of her hardworking background and the sheer effort it had taken to get into Cambridge.
One evening she’d been thrown when Oli had turned up at the library and politely inquired if she’d mind if he joined her. Flustered, she’d told him no, and he’d settled at a desk near hers, and left before Erin did. After that he showed up three or four evenings a week, the only time outside of vet school he wasn’t with his friends. They’d work in silence through the long hours and chat quietly in breaks. Usually they’d walk back to Sherlock Court together and she came to treasure those moments, feeling strangely as though they didn’t always require words to share a conversation as their bond gradually grew.
Already the end of Michaelmas term was approaching, and Erin was ready for the Christmas break. These first weeks away had been hugely challenging and she missed her family, even though she’d made friends and spent most of her free time with Carys. She’d joined Carys for a couple of weekends in Wales, loving having some real farm animal experience to back up her learning.
She was still in regular contact with home, those messages easing the concern always at the back of her mind for her mum’s well-being. One Saturday morning in late November, she was in the library and sneaking glances at her phone, trying not to worry that her mum hadn’t replied to yesterday’s message. From experience she knew that meant Heather was likely having a fibro flare-up.
She bit her lip and checked her phone again; her nan hadn’t picked up the house phone when she’d rung it either. Joyce tended to expect that most callers were scammers or salesmen, and she preferred to avoid both. Erin sighed and placed her phone facedown again; she was probably worrying unnecessarily. She’d made a decision when she arrived at Catz not to go home before the holidays, partly because she missed her family so much and returning would be unsettling, but also for a more practical reason – the train was too expensive.
An hour later there was still nothing from her mum and she swore more loudly than she’d meant to as she snatched up her belongings and fled, trying not to panic. She was going home at the end of term anyway, but she’d already decided this couldn’t wait. She was racing across Main Court towards her flat when Oli caught her up, a hand going to her shoulder to slow her, and she halted.
‘What’s up? I’ve never heard you say those words in that order before, not even when we had to watch that postmortem of a sheep with liver fluke. What was it you called it? Rank?’
‘What?’ Erin blinked, staring up at him. ‘Give over, Oli, I haven’t got time. I’ve got to get home, like now.’
‘Why?’ Oli’s expression changed to one of concern as the teasing disappeared. ‘Take a breath and tell me what’s wrong.’
‘It’s my mum, she hasn’t been in touch today and she always replies. Without fail.’ She cast a frantic glance around the courtyard, barely noticing the students casually coming and going, the biting winter air making her shiver. ‘I need to get to the station. There’s a train to Peterborough in a bit and from there I can get to Leeds and then—’
‘Can I help at all?’
