Christmas at Conwenna Cove Read online

  ‘Oli? Are you all right?’

  He nodded. ‘It’s just…’

  ‘I know. Why don’t people get their animals neutered?’

  ‘Exactly. It infuriates me.’

  ‘Well, it’s too late for this little female, but hopefully she’s not in too bad shape.’

  ‘I hope so, it’s hardly the best time of year for kittens to be outside. Poor girl, and poor kittens. Okay, well let me know when Edward arrives.’

  Oli went through the door that led into his main consulting room and through to the small adjoining room that served as a cloakroom and storage space. He removed his coat and hung it up, then opened the door to the recovery room where the animals staying overnight, or for a longer term, were kept.

  ‘Hello, Maxine.’

  The veterinary nurse peered up at him from her position kneeling beside a crate. A stray strand of the chestnut brown hair that had slipped out of her ponytail was tucked behind her ear, and in the bright strip lighting Maxine’s freckles, that made her look a lot younger than her fifty-five years, appeared darker.

  ‘Morning, Oli.’

  ‘And how’s the patient this morning?’

  ‘Signs are good. Honey is a lucky girl.’

  Oli knelt next to Maxine, and rubbed the ears of the golden retriever that was in one of the larger crates under the window. The dog licked his hand in response.

  ‘Yes, she is. No more trying to jump over barbed wire fences for you, Honey. Mrs Turner will be in to collect you later.’

  ‘Yes, she should be ready to go home, but make sure Mrs Turner has the cone to stop Honey chewing at those stitches.’

  ‘Of course I will.’ Maxine shook her head.

  ‘Sorry… telling you how to do your job again.’

  ‘It’s all right, Oli. It’s more a case of you thinking out loud.’

  He straightened up and peered out of the window that overlooked the rear car park.

  ‘Pamela said we’ve got kittens coming in.’

  ‘So I believe.’

  ‘I just hope we’ll be able to find homes for them. If they make it after being outside in this weather, that is. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re suffering from exposure.’

  ‘There is that,’ Maxine said, as she wrote on Honey’s chart, then clipped the notes to the front of the crate.

  ‘When will people learn?’ he tutted.

  Maxine patted him on the shoulder. ‘I don’t think they ever will. That’s why we’re here, Oli.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Your father get the children off to school in time?’

  ‘As always. I don’t know what I’d do without him.’

  ‘Me neither.’ Maxine’s cheeks flushed. ‘He’s such a good man. Right, shall we have a cup of tea before the morning rush begins?’

  ‘Great plan.’

  Maxine went to make tea and Oli crouched down in front of Honey again. The dog gazed at him with her big brown eyes. ‘You know, Honey, she’s made my dad happier than he’s been in years. Think I should tell her?’

  The dog licked its nose.

  ‘Ok, will do. As soon as I’ve had a cuppa. After all, everyone deserves to know when they make someone else happy, right?’

  * * *

  An hour later, Oli had checked each of the three kittens over and Maxine had settled them, along with their mother, into one of the eye-level crates on a soft blanket. The mother had eaten a good meal and was currently feeding her offspring. Oli had estimated their age to be around three and a half weeks as they were walking, but still wobbly on their little legs.

  Oli was standing in the reception area with Edward Millar and Pamela.

  ‘So you’ve no idea who they might belong to?’ Oli asked the older man.

  ‘None at all. Could be someone from the village or further afield. Possibly someone travelling through and the cat escaped from their vehicle, or she could have just wandered here from one of the local farms or nearby villages.’

  ‘Well apart from being hungry and a bit cold, she’s in pretty good condition. But it’s lucky you heard her when you did. Too long outside and the kittens could’ve suffered from exposure.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s come down from Foxglove?’ Pamela referred to the local farm. ‘You know… to get some peace.’

  ‘Give Neil a ring and find out if he’s missing a cat.’

  ‘Will do.’ Pamela nodded and picked up the phone.

  ‘We’ll need to find some homes if they don’t belong to Neil.’

  ‘Are you hinting there, Oli?’ Edward smiled.

  ‘Well… I know Mary has a fondness for waifs and strays.’

  ‘She does that. Took in Jack and Eve and, of course, me,’ he laughed. ‘Heart of an angel that woman.’

  Oli smiled. Mary Carpenter, now Millar, was known for having a huge heart. She’d taken in Jack Adams, an ex-marine, when he’d arrived in Conwenna. Jack now lived in one of Mary’s cottages with her niece, Eve, and their young baby son who’d arrived in October. The two had fallen in love over a summer when Eve had come to visit. Like many who came to Conwenna Cove, Eve had come for a break and ended up staying. The Cove just had that effect upon some people. As for Mary herself, after years of singledom, she’d fallen in love with fisherman Edward, and Oli didn’t think he’d ever seen a happier couple.

  Pamela put the phone down.

  ‘Oli, I spoke to Elena up at the farm and she said they’re not missing any cats and she also said to tell you, that as you well know, they get their pets neutered.’ Pamela winked at him. ‘She says they’ve enough to deal with up there without a litter of kittens.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Oli replied, thinking about the greyhound rescue sanctuary that Neil and Elena Burton ran up at their farm. ‘They are responsible pet owners. So it’s back to the drawing board.’

  ‘I’ll send out an email,’ Pamela said.

  ‘And I’ll ask around in the village,’ Edward added. ‘I’m sure we’ll find out whose cat it is. Unless it’s someone who doesn’t want to be found out.’

  The door to the surgery opened and Mrs Turner, Honey’s owner, entered.

  ‘Good morning!’ Pamela sang. ‘You’re early.’

  ‘I couldn’t bear to be apart from her for another minute. How’s she doing, Oli?’ Mrs Turner asked, her face haggard with concern.

  And for Oli, another busy day was well underway.

  * * *

  Grace wandered along the pretty cobbled street, admiring the different shops that Conwenna Cove had to offer. She paused and peered in through the window of the gift shop, Pebbles, eyeing the pretty wares on sale. Her gaze fell on a picture made entirely of shells. It showed a couple standing on a rock, their arms around each other, their faces turned towards the sun. It was very pretty and very clever. Then she sighed. It was also soppy and romantic and she had no time for all that nonsense.

  She walked a bit further along the main street, and passed a surf shop called Riding the Wave and an ice cream parlour called Scoops and Sprinkles. Even though the ice creams looked amazing, she was way too cold to have one. However, there was a café across the street and the idea of a hot chocolate was very tempting.

  After a morning spent clearing out one of the bedrooms in her parents’ cottage, she’d been in need of a walk and some fresh air, so she’d pulled on her warm padded coat with the faux fur trim around the hood and her sturdy walking boots, and set off to the main street where the shops were. She’d left her parents debating over whether to keep an antique chair they’d found; a debate that would likely go on for quite some time, but that, no doubt, her mother would eventually win. The artificial limbs had already been packed up and her father was going to deliver them to a local hospital later that week to see if they could find a use for them.

  She crossed the road and went into the café, appreciating the warm air as it greeted her. Instantly, her fingers and nose began to tingle.

  ‘Morning.’ The handsome man behind the counter offered a warm sm
ile. ‘Take a seat and I’ll be right over.’

  Grace chose a table by the window, removed her coat and sat down. She’d quickly changed into clean jeans and a baggy jumper before leaving, not wanting to go out in her dusty dungarees, but having seen the hunk behind the counter, she was now wishing she’d chosen something a bit more flattering.

  ‘Right, what can I get you?’ He’d arrived at her table and Grace tried not to blush as he smiled at her, his piercing blue eyes twinkling in what happened to be a face that could have got him into Hollywood.

  ‘Uh… I’ll have a hot chocolate, please.’

  ‘And something to eat?’

  ‘No thanks… uh… I’m…’

  Hurry up and say something.

  ‘We do have an amazing chocolate fudge cake. Why not have a slice of that?’ He smiled, dazzling her again with his whiter than white teeth.

  ‘Okay, but don’t do this every time I come in here will you or I’ll end up huge.’

  ‘What?’ He leaned back and eyed her. ‘You’re gorgeous. No chance of that happening.’

  Grace’s cheeks now burned furiously and she felt like she was fourteen again.

  ‘Are you on holiday then?’

  ‘No. My parents just bought a cottage here so I’m staying with them while they settle in.’

  ‘Fabulous! Is it Rosehip Cottage by any chance?’

  ‘That’s the one.’ Grace pulled her sleeves over her fingers then realized what she was doing and pushed her sleeves back up.

  ‘Lovely cottage that one. Bit neglected, but with some TLC it’ll soon be back to its best. I’m Nate Bryson by the way. My aunt and uncle own this café.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Grace… Grace Phillips.’

  ‘From Wales by the sound of that lovely musical accent?’

  ‘Yes. Cardiff actually.’

  ‘Oh, I love Cardiff. Went there years ago to see the castle and a rugby match too. Brilliant place, so many great cafés and pubs.’

  ‘Yes, I guess it is. When you live somewhere you don’t always appreciate it as much. I mean… I like the shopping there, but I haven’t been inside the castle in years.’

  ‘Well, when you go home check it out again. Unless, of course, Conwenna works its magic and you decide to stay.’ He winked.

  ‘There’ll be no chance of that happening. Not that it’s not lovely here… but I’ve things I want to do. Need to do, actually.’

  ‘Ah I see. Loving boyfriend back there waiting for you?’

  ‘No!’ Grace realized she’d snapped. ‘Sorry… I meant, no, there’s no boyfriend but I have plans now that my parents have moved. That’s all.’

  ‘Well, I’ll get your drink and cake, and seeing as how it’s quiet, you can tell me all about them. If you don’t mind me joining you, that is?’

  ‘Right. Okay. No, of course not. That would be lovely.’

  As Nate walked away, Grace swallowed hard. She couldn’t believe that she’d blushed like a teenager just because a good-looking man had spoken to her. Granted, she didn’t have much interaction with the opposite sex, but there was no need to become flustered because one of them had paid her some attention. And Nate was probably just being friendly. No doubt he was like that with every customer who came in here. Besides, he looked like he was probably a surfer or a rugby player, which might mean that he was good fun to be around but that he didn’t take life too seriously. Or was she stereotyping? She didn’t know anything about him other than he seemed nice and he was gorgeous. She had no idea how seriously he took life or what he’d been through in his time. And as she knew well, people carried pain around with them that others often knew nothing about.

  Come to think of it, perhaps this was just what she needed – a new friend who knew how to laugh and live in the moment. Someone different to chat to and to enjoy being with. It wasn’t often that Grace got the chance to spend time with a handsome stranger after all.

  So when he returned to the table with two hot chocolates and two slices of cake, Grace vowed to try to be friendly and not to give him the cold shoulder that she knew she often gave men, all men, whatever kind of interest they showed in her. She wouldn’t be staying in Conwenna for long, so she could afford to let down her guard, even if just a little bit.

  An hour later, Grace’s face was aching from smiling. Nate was one of the funniest people she’d spoken to in ages. In between serving customers, he told Grace about himself. It turned out that he was a surfer, three years older than her at thirty-four, and he’d been in Conwenna for five years. He had a very easy way about him and he made Grace feel relaxed too. Interestingly though, as she’d got to know him, she’d realized that she didn’t fancy him. Sure, he was handsome in that tattooed, blonde-haired surfer way, with his leather wristbands, faded jeans and muscles bulging under his t-shirt, but he wasn’t her type at all. Not that she had a type, of course.

  Grace just wasn’t interested in relationships; not now, and not ever.

  The bell above the café door tinkled, and Nate turned, then raised a hand, as a tall man entered, his collar pulled up against the cold. Nate went to the counter.

  ‘I’ll go serve Oli then get us another drink, shall I?’ Nate asked as he picked up the plates and cutlery.

  ‘Lovely, thanks.’ Grace nodded.

  She realized that Nate had forgotten her mug, so she picked it up and followed him to the counter. She put the mug down then turned to the new arrival, expecting another friendly greeting.

  ‘Hello.’ She smiled.

  The tall man Nate had referred to as Oli just stared blankly at her, his striking blue-green eyes almost luminous, as if he could see right through her.

  ‘I’m Grace Phillips. My parents have just moved into Rosehip Cottage.’

  She held out her hand, but Oli didn’t take it. There was an awkward pause. So she dusted her hand off, as if to suggest she hadn’t been waiting for him to shake it, then tucked it into her jeans’ pocket.

  ‘Oli Davenport, this is Grace Phillips. Grace, this is our local vet, Oli. Grace is staying in Conwenna for a while.’

  ‘Ah, right. Very good.’ Oli frowned as if remembering something. ‘You haven’t lost a cat have you?’

  ‘No. We don’t own one.’

  ‘Right. Never mind.’ He accepted a cake box from Nate then handed over some cash. ‘Nate, we’re looking for the owners of a small black cat. She’s had a litter… about three and a half weeks old they are. Edward Millar found her in the park and brought her to the surgery. Appreciate it if you’d ask around, perhaps put up a sign?’

  ‘No problem at all.’ Nate gave Oli his change.

  ‘If we can’t find out whose it is, we’ll be looking for homes for the mother and the kittens.’

  ‘They’ll need homes?’ Grace asked, having to tilt her head to look up at him. He had to be over six foot and he had incredibly broad shoulders.

  Oli turned his blue-green eyes on her again and she almost winced. They were assessing her, making her feel uneasy, completely unlike Nate’s teasing azure ones.

  ‘Yes. Of course.’ He shook his head impatiently. ‘Thanks for this, Nate. See you tomorrow.’

  Oli turned and walked out of the café, leaving a cold gust of air in his wake and a very confused Grace.

  ‘Is he always like that?’

  ‘Awkward, you mean?’ Nate laughed. ‘He can be when he’s busy. And he’s probably got a lot on his mind. He gets furious about animal neglect and is probably on the war path about someone not having their cat spayed, or neutered, or whatever it is that stops them breeding. He’s really nice when you get to know him.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Grace replied, although inside she knew that she had absolutely no intention of even trying to get to know the very rude vet. In fact, she was wondering as she returned to the table and sat down, exactly who the hell Oli Davenport thought he was.

  * * *

  Oli headed down the main street, his head bowed against the chilly wind, but
it still managed to creep under his collar and around his neck like clammy icy fingers. It was coming in from the Atlantic Ocean, so not only was it cold, it was also damp and he shivered. Conwenna Cove was a beautiful place to live, but in the winter it certainly left its inhabitants exposed to the elements and the prevailing south-westerly winds. It was a good job Edward found that cat when he had or she could have lost all her kittens and perhaps perished herself.

  Linda would have hated that, to know that a cat had lost her kittens. She’d probably have cried about it and would have wanted to home all the litter. But that was Linda. His heart started thudding as he thought about his wife’s compassion for people and animals. She’d been so kind, so generous, so…

  Oh what did it matter? She was gone and therefore had no say in what happened to the damned cats. Not that he didn’t like cats, because he did, but whenever he thought about his wife, he had an ache in his chest that made him almost angry. It was natural, the grief counsellor had told him, to experience anger and frustration after losing your partner so young, but it would pass… eventually, and until then he should allow himself to feel, not try to stifle his emotions. Apparently, it was all about acceptance. But though he managed his feelings the majority of the time, he still had flashes of resentment that he’d lost his wife, the woman he’d loved and the mother of his children.

  But he had to go on. However dark some of his days had been, Oli had to go on for his children. And he would. Because he loved them and he was all they had. He really had no choice other than to put one foot in front of the other and to keep moving forwards. As much he sometimes wanted to close the curtains, get into bed and never get up again.

  When he reached the harbour, in spite of the late November chill, he decided to take a seat on one of the benches that looked out to sea. He often found comfort in gazing out at the skyline because the sea appeared to be endless, as if it went on and on and on. A bit like he imagined Linda did. In his heart and mind at least. He placed the cake box on the bench next to him and tucked his hands into his pockets to try to thaw out his fingers. He couldn’t afford to get frostbite, not when his hands were his livelihood. If he couldn’t operate on the animals that came in and needed his expertise, then what good would he be as a vet?