Must Be Love (25 page)

Old Fox-Gifford doesn’t seem to realise Alex is being facetious.

‘Who’s Bob?’ he says impatiently. ‘Oh, never mind that. It’s a phase. He was born to be a vet.’

‘Father,’ Alex begins, then, ‘no, I’m ashamed to call you father. Disown me, cut me out, do whatever you like. It won’t make any difference to me. There’s no way I’ll give Maz up just because you’ve taken against her. Your opinion means nothing to me.’ He turns to Sophia. ‘And you, Mother. I thought better of you.’ He holds my hand tight. ‘Come on, Maz.’ I thought Alex has been quite controlled during this exchange with his parents, but his voice quavers when he adds, ‘I’ve had enough of this nonsense. Let’s go.’

It’s only now that I notice Lucie and Seb are still here, and from Lucie’s distress, the single tear that sparkles on her cheek and the wobble of her upper lip as she tries not to cry, I realise she’s understood everything we’ve been saying.

‘Alex.’ I nudge him. ‘The kids.’

‘Oh no,’ he groans, diving down on one knee in front of them and taking their hands. At least, he holds on to Seb’s. Lucie’s having none of it. ‘I’m sorry …’ He turns back to his parents.

‘Now look what you’ve done. I was going to tell them later, quietly, without a scene. For goodness’ sake, get out of my sight. Both of you.’ I suspect Alex would be far less restrained if it wasn’t for poor Lucie and Seb. Old Fox-Gifford shuffles away, muttering to Sophia at his side.

‘I’m so sorry, Lucie,’ Alex says. ‘It wasn’t meant to be like this. Have you got my wallet there?’ She hands it back slowly. He opens it up and pulls out the scan piccie of the baby. I’m not sure how helpful it will be, as it doesn’t look much like a baby yet, but Lucie and Seb both peer at it with great interest.

‘So Maz is having a baby,’ Lucie says, sniffing loudly. She stares at her father, eyes wide with fascination and horror. ‘Daddy, that means you’ve been having –’

‘Yes, Lucie,’ Alex interrupts quickly. ‘Thank you. You and Seb are going to have a half-brother or half-sister in the autumn. Now, I think we should talk about the baby a bit more later, after we’ve gone and bought some ducks, don’t you?’

Seb nods sagely. Lucie frowns, but she soon snatches the wallet back when Alex offers it, and she walks off towards the riverbank, holding her brother’s hand.

‘I can’t believe your parents!’ I say, furious on the children’s behalf, as Alex and I follow them. ‘I don’t think they thought about Lucie and Seb at all.’

‘It wasn’t the kindest way to reveal they’re going to have a new half-sibling,’ Alex agrees.

‘Oh, Maz, I’m sorry they’re so bloody unbearable. You’ve done nothing wrong, apart from make their son very happy.’

‘It doesn’t matter. It isn’t your fault.’ It grieves me deeply that my baby won’t get to know any of its grandparents, and I feel bad that I’ve come between Alex and his parents.

‘I feel like telling them they can’t have anything to do with Lucie and Seb any more,’ Alex goes on.

‘That wouldn’t be fair on the children,’ I point out.

‘I know,’ Alex says. ‘I don’t want to use them as pawns in my parents’ pathetic attempts at blackmail. And I really don’t care if they want their inheritance to bypass me. Imagine the death duties on the estate.’

‘What about the practice, though? Aren’t you worried they might carry out their threat and take it away from you?’

‘I do have a stake in it. I am junior partner, after all.’ He emphasises the word ‘junior’. ‘I must be the oldest junior partner in the country.’

As always, Alex is making light of the fact, but he shouldn’t. He does all the work. In my opinion, he deserves better than that.

‘If your father leaves his share of the practice to Seb, for example, where does that leave you?’

‘It won’t happen – my father’s indestructible.’ Alex shrugs it off. ‘He’ll never die. Don’t worry about me, Maz. If he goes before Mother, she’ll make sure everything reverts back to me. If she goes before him, I’ll need to see a lawyer.’

‘Have you got a partnership agreement?’ I ask, thinking of all the legal papers Emma and I had to sign when I joined her at Otter House.

‘What do you think?’ Alex sighs.

‘You haven’t. Okay.’

We catch up with the children. Lucie’s trying to pay with her dad’s credit card. Alex sorts that out, then attends to Seb, who’s upset by the fireman’s demand that he put the duck he’s chosen into the net with the rest, so they can take them up to the Old Bridge in the fire engine and drop them into the river to start the race.

‘But I wanna keep it.’ Seb presses it to his chest. ‘I love my duck.’

Now, my instinct is to take it away and let him howl – he’ll soon forget – but old softie Alex hands over a generous donation so he can keep the one he’s got and have another in the race. I suppose, given the family row that happened in front of them, it isn’t surprising that he’s looking for ways he can make them feel better.

‘What number do you want, Maz?’ Alex asks.

I choose two – one for me and one for the baby – while Alex chats with Lucie and Seb.

‘The baby will be your half-brother or half-sister,’ he says. ‘Isn’t that exciting?’

Seb stares sceptically at my stomach while Lucie looks apprehensive, and I wonder how I’d have felt if my mother had turned up after my father left her, and told me she was pregnant again by another man. I think I’d have been terribly upset and worried the new baby would push me out completely.

‘At least they seem a little more enthusiastic about the baby than your parents,’ I say later while we’re watching the ducks thronging down the river towards the pub. Yelling at a bunch of plastic ducks bobbing about on the water may seem an odd way to get your kicks, but – I catch Seb by the arm as he’s about to fall in – it’s a lot of fun.

‘You know, I hadn’t thought about taking on a nanny before,’ I say, once I’m happy Seb’s safely away from the river.

‘Well, you can’t stick a baby in a cage like one of your patients, can you? And I can’t leave it in the back of my car like a dog.’ Alex takes my hand and interlinks his fingers with mine. ‘I’m glad to see you’re taking an interest at last. I was a bit worried at first, I can tell you. As soon as Astra knew she was pregnant with Lucie, she was out shopping. Not that she needed any excuse.’

Once again, I feel a twinge of resentment that Alex has been here before, with another woman.

‘I’m nothing like Astra,’ I say sharply.

‘I’m not suggesting you’re anything like her. All I’m saying is that in spite of her flaws, she’s a good mum. She adores the children.’

It doesn’t make me feel any better. Now I have to live up to Astra, the perfect mother.

‘There’s loads to sort out and not that much time.’ Alex nods towards a woman who’s pushing a buggy across the grass. ‘You’ll need one of those soon.’

‘You’re beginning to sound like Emma.’ I correct myself. ‘Like Emma used to be – when she was still, you know.’

‘Yeah,’ Alex says.

‘Ben’s signed her off for another two weeks. I’m beginning to wonder if she’ll ever come back.’

‘She will.’ Alex gives my fingers a squeeze. ‘She’ll have to when Drew finishes his stint, unless you take on another vet.’

I remain silent, wishing everything wasn’t so uncertain. Everyone at Otter House has rallied round to help me keep the practice running without her, but it isn’t the same.

The fireman in the water catches the first duck to cross the line, wipes it with a towel and hands it over to Fifi Green, Talyton’s lady mayoress, who’s struggling to keep her heels from sinking in the sward, which is still damp after an earlier shower. She reads out the number painted on its bottom as if she’s reading the BBC news.

‘Number twenty-seven. The winner is number twenty-seven.’

‘That’s mine,’ squeals Lucie, jumping up and down. ‘Daddy, that’s mine.’

‘It mine,’ says Seb. ‘I the winner.’

Alex glances in my direction and raises one eyebrow. I go with Lucie to collect her prize and leave it to him to explain to his son that you can’t be a winner every time.

‘Lucie says she doesn’t want to have to go riding with me again,’ I tell Alex over a drink later. (We moved inside when it started spotting with rain.) She cornered me between where the mill race splits away from the river, and the trailer, where one of the local bands was setting up their drum kit and guitars. ‘She says Jumbo’s too slow. I thought we were going pretty fast when we galloped along the old railway line.’

‘We were. If I’d known you were pregnant, I’d have been more gentle with you.’

‘There’s no need to wrap me in cotton wool,’ I say, smiling.

‘Oh yes, there is,’ he says firmly. ‘I want to look after you.’

‘I’m perfectly able to look after myself,’ I counter, although secretly I’m touched. ‘You’ve got enough to do, especially if you’ve decided your parents can no longer look after Seb and Lucie.’ At the moment they’re out playing with some of Lynsey and Stewart’s brood on the climbing frame. I don’t know where the old Fox-Giffords are, and I don’t care. ‘About your parents. I feel really bad that I’ve come between you. I feel kind of responsible.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Maz,’ Alex says. ‘It’s only a temporary arrangement – it wouldn’t be right to keep Lucie and Seb away from their grandparents. They’ve always had a close relationship. It’s just that I can’t contemplate leaving Lucie and Seb with them any longer this weekend – the children were so upset about the baby thing. No, I’ll give everyone some time to cool off.’ Alex drains his glass. ‘Would you like another?’

‘I’ll get them.’ I can’t avoid Clive for ever. ‘It’s my turn.’

‘You don’t have to prove anything, Maz.’

I do, though. I don’t want anyone, least of all Alex, believing I’m anything but his equal. I have no desire to become anonymous either, a mere vessel for the baby, like Emma became. When some of our clients began to refer to her as the pregnant one, I cringed for her, even though she didn’t seem to mind.

I head for the bar, where Clive is serving, along with his wife, Edie, and two barmaids. He tries to ignore me, nodding towards Edie, a tall, lean woman with a hooked nose, dark eyes and long black hair with blocks of silver highlights, to get her to serve me instead, but she moves away.

‘Hello, Clive,’ I say. ‘A Diet Coke and an apple juice, please.’

‘Last of the big spenders, eh?’ He picks up a glass. There’s no malice in his voice, but no warmth either.

‘How’s Petra?’ She’s in Clive’s old dog’s place behind the bar, on a big faux-suede bed with a fresh marrowbone beside her. Talk about being spoiled.

‘She remembers you cutting her up,’ Clive observes, as Petra utters a sharp bark. ‘It’s taken her ages to get over the surgery, but she’s back to normal now. Look, she’s smiling.’

It looks more like a snarl than a smile if you ask me, but I don’t get involved. As Petra stands up and fixes me with her eyes, I look away, take some cash from my purse and hand it over the bar.

I’m not sure what sets Petra off. Does she misinterpret my contact with Clive as a threat to his life, or is she insanely jealous? I don’t know, but she lunges forwards, and Edie’s in the way, and Petra’s on Edie’s arm, growling and snapping and tearing at Edie’s blouse, and Edie’s screaming at her to get off.

‘Leave, Petra.’ Clive grabs Petra’s scruff, but Petra hangs on.

I grab a bar stool in the hope I might be able to use it either as a weapon or shield, perhaps both, and start making my way through the gap in the bar, but Alex beats me to it, vaulting over the top and grabbing a beer glass on the way, using it to smack the dog across the head.

Stunned, Petra lets go of Edie’s arm and falls to the floor, yelping. Alex falls on top of her in a rugby tackle and pins her to the ground, keeping his hands on either side of her head, hanging on to her by her cheeks so she can’t turn and bite him.

There’s a shocked hush, as if no one can believe what they’re seeing.

‘Okay, Maz,’ Alex says calmly. ‘I’ve got her. You’re all right to see to Edie now.’

I take the stool through and make Edie sit down.

She keeps saying she’s fine, but she’s white and shaking, and holding her arm to her chest.

I ask the barmaid, who looks as if she’s about to faint, to fetch the first-aid kit. I reassure Edie that she’ll be all right, while Clive fetches a lead and Alex binds it tightly round Petra’s muzzle. Holding her by the collar, he drags her up and through the bar, then shuts her the other side of the door, which leads out to the rear of the pub.

‘I c-c-could do with a brandy,’ Edie stutters.

‘Maybe later.’ I start covering the gash on her forearm with non-stick dressing and bandages. ‘Let’s wait until you’ve seen a doctor.’

‘I don’t need a d-d-doctor. A bottle of TCP will do me.’

‘It might take a little more than that,’ I say gently. ‘That wound’s going to need a good clean and you’ll have to go on some antibiotics.’

Clive is at Edie’s side now, breathing down my neck.

‘You all right, love?’ he says in an incongruously high voice.

Edie lets out a low moan as blood starts seeping through the bandage.

‘You must take her straight to hospital, Clive,’ I say.

‘Of course,’ he mutters. ‘Will do.’

Alex steps in front of him and takes him by the shoulders.

‘Clive, my man, you know what I’m going to say.’

‘I haven’t a clue,’ Clive says, but I think from his tone he’s lying. He knows very well what Alex is getting at. It isn’t as if the subject hasn’t been broached before. I remember how Clive reacted when I suggested he take Petra to a behaviourist.

‘That was a pretty serious attack,’ Alex says. ‘I don’t believe you’ll be able to trust that dog again. She’s unpredictable. To be perfectly straight with you, she’s dangerous.’

Clive stares at Alex, his mouth slack and breathing heavy.

Can he really not see what needs to be done?

‘Clive, you can’t give Petra any more chances,’ Alex says. ‘Next time she could kill someone and how would you feel with that on your conscience? You must let her go before she does any lasting damage.’

‘Perhaps she can’t cope with the pressure of living in a pub,’ Clive says. ‘Perhaps I can rehome her.’