Page 39 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets
‘Merry Christmas, Erin. You ever fancy a gig sometime, let me know.’ At the door Raf turned and his grin was a mischievous one. ‘Pippa’ll give you my number.’
Chapter Fifteen
Oli was on call the next day and Erin heard him leave around seven. She was finding it impossible to escape his words at the party and the admission that he still cared about her. He’d promised to check on Marnie and Erin wasn’t cooking the usual lunch as Heather was catching up with an online training course. Edmund was also absent, visiting a friend in London, so she had a rare day to herself. Even though she was looking forward to celebrating Christmas in her own home, she was finding it strange to be preparing without her family, sharing in the festivities together.
She was on the floor, sorting through the decorations her mum had brought, trying to untangle a fragile paper garland they’d made years ago. She’d already decided it wasn’t a good idea to have decorations everywhere with a new kitten, so she was going to restrict herself to a few little touches here and there.
A knock came at the front door and she glanced up, wondering if Oli had forgotten his keys in his haste earlier. The last thing she expected to see when she opened it was a young woman waiting, a green beanie covering some of her gorgeous fox-red hair above a black puffer jacket and skinny jeans tucked into leather boots. She looked vaguely familiar, but Erin couldn’t place her.
‘Hi, I’m really sorry to bother you.’ Her smile reached lovely hazel eyes too, framed by long lashes, and Erin was reminded of the girls who used to hang around Oli at Catz. This one had that same natural confidence and elegance, the sleek and glossy hair, perfectly applied make-up on her heart-shaped face. ‘I hope I’ve got the right address, I’m looking for Oli. I’m Imogen, his sister.’
‘Oh! Right.’ Now Erin understood why she looked so familiar and felt a little self-conscious in her work clothes. Her hoodie was still sporting dog hair from a consultation with a St Bernard on Friday, and she was saving her shower until she’d finished with the decorations. ‘He’s out on a call, I’m not sure how long he’ll be. Is he expecting you?’
‘No, I thought I’d surprise him. I’ve got some news to share, but I’ll find somewhere to wait until he’s back.’ She turned a shoulder to a dark SUV in the lane.
‘Would you like to come in?’ Erin stepped back, holding the door wide. ‘There’s a pub just up the road but it’s not open until twelve and there isn’t a cafe for miles.’
‘That’s very kind, thank you.’ Imogen’s curious gaze went to the sitting room and the jumble of decorations spilling from the box, the cheerful fire burning in the stove. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind? You’re not too busy?’
‘I was just sorting through some old decorations, it’s fine.’
Erin closed the door, and she was doing it again, viewing the cottage through Imogen’s eyes: the shabby chintz sofa and chair, and tired dining table and chairs parked in front of the window.
‘Your home is beautiful, so cosy.’
‘Thank you. I love it but there’s still a lot I’d like to do.’ Erin pointed to the sofa, swiping away stray dog hairs. No matter how much she brushed her clothes and cleaned, a few always made it home with her.
‘It’s so romantic and cute, it reminds me of the cottage inThe Holiday. I love that movie.’ Imogen slipped off her jacket and the beanie, draping them on the arm of the sofa.
‘Me too. I watch it every year.’ They shared an understanding smile before Erin edged towards the kitchen. ‘Can I get you some tea, or a coffee?’ Putting the kettle on was a given in any situation and her nan always said there wasn’t much a proper brew couldn’t fix. ‘I don’t really drink it, but Oli has a machine.’
‘So I see. He takes it pretty much everywhere; my brother can’t get by without coffee. And I’d love one, thanks. It’s been a long drive. I stayed with friends in Manchester last night, so I haven’t had to do it all in one go.’
‘Where have you come from?’ Erin switched the machine on and picked up the espresso cup she’d given Oli with its cute Christmas animals. It lived permanently on the draining board with her favourite mug; they never made it back into the cupboard because they were used so often.
‘Marlborough, my partner and I have just bought a house there.’ Imogen had got up to hover on the edge of the kitchen. ‘I have to be back for work tomorrow, so I can’t stay too long. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. Oli hasn’t told me much about where he’s staying, other than the address.’
‘Oh sorry, it’s Erin. I work at the same practice with Oli and he’s lodging with me whilst he’s here.’ She was filling the kettle and her head snapped round when she heard Imogen’s gasp.
‘I’m sorry, did you say Erin?’ Imogen’s eyes were still wide. ‘You weren’ttheErin with Oli at Catz, by any chance?’
‘Oli and I were in the same year, yes.’ Erin switched the kettle on and reached for her mug.
‘Bloody hell.’ Imogen huffed out a laugh. ‘No wonder he was so cagey about this job.’
‘He won’t be here for long, he’s leaving on the twenty-third. He mentioned about you hosting a family Christmas.’
‘I don’t think that’s why he’s kept it quiet.’ Imogen drew her long hair across one shoulder. ‘That first year at Catz, whenever he came home he talked about almost no one else but you. He never actually said so, but it was obvious he was crazy about you. Mum always said she’d loved to have met you because anyone who could make Oli light up like that must have been very special.’
The mug in Erin’s hand slid into the sink, splattering water up the tiles. She wasn’t expecting to feel such profound sorrow at so simple a remark and that she’d never met the mum he loved. And guilt too, because she’d blocked him from her life and hadn’t been there to support him when his mum had passed away so suddenly.
She’d made herself believe that his feelings mattered less because they came from different worlds, with very different backgrounds. But Oli had been right when he’d said that underneath they wanted the same things; love, home, security, support, and she’d denied him those because her courage didn’t extend to offering her heart. She’d judged him by her mum’s experience of marriage and her own expectations, and she’d let him down. Erin was gripping the sink, Imogen’s words coming to her in a blur as she hurried to stand alongside her.
‘Erin, are you all right? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you.’
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she muttered. Once again her past was colliding with the present and threatening to unbalance her carefully planned future. ‘I’m sorry I never met your mum. I wish I had.’
‘You didn’t know, about how Oli felt…’ Imogen’s voice drifted away.
