Page 20 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets
‘Another time,’ he said lightly. ‘Meet you down here then?’
‘Okay.’ Erin edged past him and ran up to her bedroom. Fifteen minutes later she was layered up in a Fair Isle sweater over a thermal vest, with jeans and knee-length boots beneath her winter coat and a woolly hat, the curls she’d grown longer since graduating loose. Oli was ready too, a green beanie in place. The evening air was bracing when they stepped outside, stars sparkling in a clear sky.
The shop window had been transformed into an old-fashioned sweet shop for the festive season, with candy canes, a gingerbread house and jars of sweets nestled amongst a snowy background. Erin greeted people she knew, some of them clients whose animals she’d treated. She’d already asked Edmund if he’d like to join her, and he’d thanked her but refused, as he was eating with a friend first and planned to arrive later. Children were skipping along, presumably hoping for a glimpse of Father Christmas. A few little ones were in shepherd costumes, ready to take their place in the procession.
The brass band was gathered on the village green opposite the pub, head torches in place to light up sheet music pinned to their instruments. Erin felt a sharp pang for the days when she’d played in her grandad’s old colliery band, her cornet gifted by an elderly member who had no more use for it. A few stalls offering refreshments had been set up and she waved to Kenny from the pub, serving mulled cider and wine from one with his partner Vince.
‘Can I tempt you, Erin?’ Kenny called, waving a paper cup. ‘Although you don’t look as though you need warming up.’
‘Yes please.’ Erin hadn’t eaten in the pub often, but Kenny was always lovely and welcoming whenever she did. His cropped hair was gunmetal grey, matching a short, sharp beard. The food, cooked by Vince, who’d trained in Paris, was amazing and she was planning to take her mum for lunch one Sunday. She wasn’t on call until tomorrow so she could treat herself to one drink, and she accepted the delicious-smelling wine Kenny offered.
‘Thanks Kenny.’ She was aware of Oli halting at her side. ‘This is Oli, who’s working as a locum with us until Christmas.’
‘We’ve already met, my darling.’ Kenny winked at Erin and Oli laughed as he accepted a cup of mulled wine. ‘He’s eaten with us every night this week, I adore finding new regulars. I keep asking when he’s planning to bring you along as well, but he won’t say. I do love a man who won’t kiss and tell.’
‘Oh!’ Erin’s gaze jumped to Oli, and he raised a shoulder. She’d wondered where he went each night but hadn’t imagined he was so close. Did he hate her company so much that he’d rather eat an admittedly very nice but not cheap dinner in the pub to avoid her every evening? Perhaps it was her fault; she hadn’t exactly thrown him much of a welcome and had made clear he was on his own when it came to meals and cooking.
‘So will I see you both later, for drinks after the carols?’ Vince was busy serving another customer, and Erin nodded at Kenny. ‘Perfect. I’ve reserved a table for the practice, got to make sure there’s room for you all.’
‘Thanks, Kenny. See you later.’ She looked at Oli, wanting to make amends. ‘So can I buy you a turkey roll, as a belated welcome?’
‘I’d like that. Thanks.’ They joined a queue and once they’d got their rolls, filled with turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and sausages, laughing as they tried not to let anything fall out, they made their way over the bridge towards the church to wait for the procession. Elaine was there with a friend and Erin waved at Jess queueing for drinks further down with her partner Noah.
‘So you were right, this is all very quaint.’ Oli rolled his empty wrapper into a ball and tossed it into a bin. He held out a hand for Erin’s too, and she thanked him as he disposed of it. He stamped his feet as the procession on the green began to assemble into some sort of order.
‘You would say that.’ She caught the gleam of his smile through the dark. ‘Didn’t they have the story of Jesus’s birth in Marlborough, then?’
‘I think they probably did but I can’t say I’ve ever seen it performed live. Anyway, I was referring to the brass band. I’ve never forgotten you signing me up for rehearsals when we were freshers and conning me into thinking it was the real ale society. It sounded like a load of cats trying to fight their way out of tin cans when I turned up.’
‘That’s bloody rude,’ Erin retorted, shoving him in the ribs with an elbow, and he laughed. ‘I was trying to educate you. You obviously have no appreciation of proper music.’ She was remembering her surprise when he’d actually showed up and found a roomful of students rehearsing. He’d been nonplussed for a few moments before his charm had kicked in and he’d excused himself, but not before flashing her a grin that promised some form of retribution. She’d received an email not long after, welcoming her to the university’s improvised comedy club. She’d gone along to a workshop just to prove a point and Oli wrong about her willingness to at least check it out. ‘I can see now my efforts were in vain.’
‘I have all the education I need, thank you very much. No plans to study anything ever again. Except maybe brass bands, let’s see if you can convert me this time.’ The nativity procession was beginning, circling the green as marshals in hi-vis jackets cleared a path through the crowd. ‘Is that Dorothy, leading an alpaca? I can’t see her face, but I reckon that’s her coat. She might not even be inside it, it could well be walking on its own.’
‘Yep, and Alfie’s leading the other one. He’s Harriet’s boyfriend, another young farmer. Maybe it’s the alpacas slowing everyone down, they’re such plodders.’
‘And spitters. Please tell me they’re not really wearing antler headbands?’
‘I can’t, because they are.’ Erin laughed as Oli shot her a sardonic look. ‘I suppose available reindeer are in short supply at this time of year and they’re having to make do with Rufus and Rupert.’
Dorothy had rescued the alpacas a few years ago and they lived a very comfortable existence on her farm, being indulged by her and Harriet. Pippa wasn’t keen, having been spat on at first introduction. Erin saw her outside the gallery with Gil, arms wrapped around one another as Harriet walked slowly past with Posy the Shetland pony. Posy was on a very tight lead rope in case she attempted to take off in search of food or trouble. She was also sporting a reindeer headband, and when she shook her head, it flew off to land on the cobbles.
‘Erin, babe!’
An arm was thrust around Erin’s shoulders as someone shoved their way into a space beside her, and she staggered into Oli. His hands went to her waist to steady her, then fell away just as quickly when she was tugged backwards, landing against a solid chest. The man who’d just arrived sported a body honed by hours in the gym and a face she was startled to realise she was beginning to find more attractive than his personality. Tonight his long brown hair was tucked inside a grey beanie instead of fastened in the usual man bun.
‘Jason, hi,’ Erin replied, trying to disguise her surprise. She’d forgotten she’d invited him tonight and didn’t want either man to notice her discomfort now their paths were about to cross.
‘Hey, you.’ Jason took her hand. ‘So my guy was running late and he wanted to talk through his event. He suggested we do it over a quick beer. You know how it is, I couldn’t turn him down.’
‘Well, at least you made it.’ He always had an excuse for his lack of timekeeping, she’d noticed. Never an apology.
‘And miss all this?’ Jason smirked at the nativity procession walking slowly past, the band marching to the tune of ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’. ‘I was going to let you know I was on my way but I’m here now. You look, er, nice. Is that a new hat?’
‘No, I wore it last time I saw you.’ When he’d taken her to a run instead of brunch because a client was racing, and he’d wanted to watch. They’d all ended up at the pub afterwards, and he’d barely even tried to include her in the conversation.
‘Anyway, it suits you.’
Erin wasn’t quick enough to dodge Jason’s mouth heading for hers, and she tried to quash her irritation. He’d never once attempted to greet her with a kiss before. He leaned past her to look at Oli.
