Page 23 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets
Shortly after she took a call about a cat who was vomiting and arranged with the owner to bring it into the surgery that afternoon if there was no improvement. She drove back to the village, thinking about going home instead of into the practice, and pulled over to check her phone when a notification arrived. Oli had been added to the staff group chat and she wasn’t expecting a new message to be from him now he was in her contacts again.
Meet me at the shop if you’ve got time? My shout.
She was nearby, so she left the pickup; it would only take her a minute to run back if she was called out. She adored the village shop, once the front room of a cottage, and popping in to chat with Daphne and Violet, the two sisters who ran it. Violet had worked there all her life and Daphne had joined her a few years ago after the end of her marriage. Violet’s baking was legendary, and every weekend Erin picked up something delicious to enjoy at home.
Oli was waiting outside, propped against the wall and causing her stomach to flutter annoyingly. He was wrapped up against the chill too, the beanie and a scarf back on, his smile one of understanding edged with sympathy.
‘Okay?’ He straightened up and she nodded. There was a softness in his question and she had a sudden, unwelcome image of coming home to Jason, trying to picture him wanting to know if she was all right, and simply couldn’t. But perhaps that wasn’t fair; he didn’t understand the emotional highs and lows of being a vet in the same way Oli did.
‘Yes. Thank you for asking.’
‘So I haven’t got long but I thought you might appreciate something to warm you up. You always did love a bacon buttie and I’ve put in an order with Daphne, so you don’t have to hang around. Gil told me they’re the best in the dale.’
‘You didn’t have to do that.’ But the idea had already taken hold, and Erin couldn’t decide if it was his thoughtfulness or the anticipation of tucking in that was pleasing her the most. Maybe both.
The bell above the door tinkled as they entered and made their way past shelves laden with almost every kind of necessity. One wall was groceries and another was books, greeting cards and maps, a large American fridge between them. The wooden shelves behind the counter still held old-fashioned jars of sweets with a set of scales for weighing, and there was even a haberdashery section at the far end, with cooking utensils alongside basic tools, batteries, and bicycle pumps. The shop had recently become a hub for Amazon, and it was a lifeline for all who lived in the village.
‘Morning, Daphne.’ Oli paused at the counter with Erin, and she also greeted the woman, whose warm hazel eyes were emphasised by a pair of green glasses. Daphne had been very kind since Erin had moved to Hartfell, and Erin bought all her milk, bread and vegetables here. Daphne had recently added homemade frozen ready meals to their range, which kept Erin going when sometimes she was too busy and tired to cook for herself.
‘You’re right on time, Oli, they’re ready.’ Daphne’s smile encompassed both of them and Erin’s mouth watered when she placed two hot sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper on the counter. ‘One well done with brown sauce, no butter, and one with egg and ketchup, both on sourdough. Have I got that right?’
‘Perfect, thanks Daphne.’
Erin was surprised he’d also remembered exactly how she liked her bacon butties. ‘How’s Violet?’ she asked instead, glancing along the corridor to the kitchen to see if Daphne’s older sister was in sight. Violet lived with dementia and found some everyday tasks beyond her now, but her gift for baking had never altered.
‘She’s all right, Erin, thank you for asking.’ Daphne’s smile was a resigned one as she completed Oli’s payment. ‘Her mince pies are flying out of the shop almost faster than she can make them. Pippa’s ordered some for the gallery opening and I keep asking Violet if it’s too much for her now, but she insists that it’s not and she’s happiest when she’s busy. I suppose it’s what she’s always known, and I keep a close eye on her. I am going to advertise for some help though, in the new year.’
‘I’ll let you know if I hear of anyone,’ Erin promised. Another thing she loved about rural farm work was that it kept her in touch with the people who didn’t live in the centre of the village and news was passed along the dale from farm to farm as it always had been. One retired farmer had let out his land and moved into a cottage in the village. He loved to sit at the bus stop and chat with the people passing by, either locals going about their business or visitors passing through, and she appreciated his stories when she had time to pause.
They thanked Daphne and returned outside. Erin loved these sharp, clear days, the high fells glistening with a scattering of snow, frost clinging to bare branches like icy fingers.
‘My car or yours?’
‘Mine,’ she told him, setting off. ‘Then I can chuck you out if I get a call and have to go.’
Back inside the pickup, which wasn’t much warmer without the engine running, Erin bit into her buttie. ‘Thank you,’ she muttered after the first mouthful. ‘This is amazing and exactly what I needed.’
‘You’re welcome. I thought it might set you up for the day.’
It would help, but it was his kindness that was forefront in her mind. That he’d remembered how she liked her bacon, had ordered for her so she wouldn’t have to wait long if she needed to go.
‘Are you going to the gallery opening later?’ She’d heard him chatting about it with Elaine yesterday; all the staff were popping in at some point, excited to see the changes to the youth hostel that Pippa and a team of builders had been working on these past months.
‘That’s the plan after I finish at the practice. My dad’s difficult to buy for and I thought I might see something there. He likes art.’
‘Will you be at home for Christmas?’ Erin wasn’t even sure where home was for Oli; she’d already heard that he kept a virtual business office address in London and rented a studio flat in Hertfordshire.
‘At my sister’s. She and her partner have bought their first house together and they want to do the big family Christmas.’ Oli sighed, scrunching up the paper now he’d finished eating.
‘And you don’t?’
‘I usually go away, I’m not that into it. Still can’t quite get past those memories of coming home for Christmas and finding out Honey had died. And it’s never been the same since my parents split up, so…’
‘I’m sorry.’ Erin adored Christmas and couldn’t imagine not spending the day as she usually did, enveloped with her family in their routines and celebrations. When she and her grandad had played in the brass band, December was always a busy month with concerts and carol services every week. It had set up the season for her and she still couldn’t hear brass instruments without being tugged straight back to those days.
She needed to get a move on with her Christmas shopping too; her mum and her nan were easy enough, while her grandad said there was nothing he needed and not to spend her money on him. But she always found him something he’d love, whether it was heritage seeds for his vegetable garden or an old recording of a brass band he’d treasure.
Her phone rang and she picked up the call, immediately switching into work mode as she listened to the farmer on the other end. Oli understood what was coming and he raised a hand as he got out of her car. She started the engine and set off once she’d got the details. When she reached the farm she layered up to examine a pig with a suspected infection in a rear claw, pulling on her wellies and waterproofs.
