Page 79 of Animal Instincts
“No. I—I haven’t been able to face him. I kind of guess we’ve been avoiding each other.” Joss sighed, and rubbed at his eyes. He couldn’t recall ever feeling so exhausted. “I’ve been too angry and upset. Just as I have every right to be. It’s all I’ve been thinking about. Processing it, as your Madam Varda probably says.”
“Reckon he’s been doing the same. It’d have taken a lot for him to say what he did.”
“You don’t much sound like you’re on my side, Gran,” Joss said softly.
“I am on your side, Joss. I always have been and always will be. Never forget it. But that doesn’t mean I’ll pat you on the head, and saythere, there,like you’re no better than that daft dog of yours.
“Do I think a stint of living somewhere different will be good for you? Yes, in many ways I do. Do I agree with what you told me Oliver said? Yes, or in part. Do I think this is all about you? No, I don’t. He was a wounded man when he came here, and even though some wounds heal on the surface, they go deeper than the eye can see. Much as I like your vet, you’re my priority and you have been since I took you on as my own. I’ve said my piece, and I’ll say no more. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you just like I always have and always will.”
FORTY-ONE
“Any luck with getting your hours back at the café?” Gran placed a heaped plate of steak and onion pie and mashed potatoes in front of him.
It was one of his favourites, like yesterday’s dinner had been a favourite and the day’s before. He didn’t want it, just like he hadn’t wanted the others, but he’d eat it all and another hundred platefuls because the food was about Gran’s care and love for him, and he’d never, ever reject those treasures.
“No, my hours went to Mitch. I’ll try some of the other places in the next day or two.”
“Beryl’s Baps ’n’ Buns want weekend help, or so I hear. Just think of the perks! Stale, unsold loaves at the end of the day, and tasteless, dry cake.Tsk.And the woman calls herself a baker.” Gran shook her head in disgust.
Joss looked up from his dinner; he was trying his best, but it looked as though he’d hardly touched a thing.
“Isn’t she one of your customers?”
“Yes. She was very pleased with the colour I did for her last month. Buttercup Blond, it was. She even gave me a nice big tip. She’s such a lovely woman, never has a bad word to say about anybody. Doesn’t make her a good baker, though.” Gran cackled, and tucked into her own meal.
Another job, another tie binding him to the village. But the only tie really binding him was Gran. Yet hadn’t she said he should strike out and seek his fortune elsewhere? Or kind of.
“Maybe I should revert back to Plan A, and look for a job away from the village? I mean, there couldn’t be a better time.”
“Only when you’re ready, not when it’s about running away.” Gran dug deeper into her own serving of meat pie. “I’ve never been one for blowing my own trumpet, but there’s no doubt I make the best short crust pastry in Love’s Harbour. Best pastry cook, best hair stylist.”
Joss coughed as a thick piece of pastry lodged in his throat. He grabbed his glass of water and swallowed deep. Gran glared at him, daring him to contradict.
“I’m not running away. It was the path I was on when—” When his life, for a little while, had changed for the better. “Honest, Gran, it’s got nothing to do with running away. But working at the practice has convinced me a career involving animals is what I really and truly want. And the experience I got there, even though it wasn’t for long, was good.”
At least there had been one good thing to come out of it…
Joss pushed his plate away, over half his dinner untouched.
“I’m sorry, Gran, but I’m just not hungry. I’m going to have a soak in the bath and—”
Next to him, his phone pinged and vibrated, almost dancing across the table. His heart lurched, his pathetic, traitorous heart wanting to believe it was Oliver. Why the fuck couldn’t it understand the memo that they were finished?
He grabbed it up, and opened the message.
“Oh.”
“Joss? Anything the matter?”
“Erm…”
“Is it Oliver?”
Joss barked out a laugh as he read the message again.
“No, it’s not.” Although wasn’t this what Oliver had said he’d wanted for him?
“It’s from a multi-site practice in Nottingham.I applied for a training position with them months ago…”
