Five Winters(56)

A child who was cruel to animals? Was that really likely?

Clare seemed to read my thoughts. “It can sometimes happen, unfortunately. A child may come from a home where the parents habitually mistreated animals. Or sometimes, a child may behave towards an animal in the way an adult has behaved towards him or her.”

God, it was so very sad.

“But you don’t have any pets, so we don’t need to worry about that. Unless you ever bring any animals back here as part of your work?”

“I do occasionally, but only on a voluntary basis. I’m not required to.”

Clare nodded and made a note. “Good.” She closed her notebook. “I think that’s sufficient for today. I’ll leave you some worksheets to complete before we meet again. And perhaps you could do some research about any local schools or groups that might accept you as a volunteer? You really need to get as much experience with children as you can to support your application. I realise this isn’t the best time to approach anyone, with Christmas fast approaching, but if you make enquiries now, you’d be able to start in the New Year.”

“Of course,” I said, and Clare took her leave, having arranged another appointment for the following week.

After she’d gone, I felt a bit bleak. Instinctively, I reached for my phone to call Rosie. But once again, I changed my mind. Rosie already thought I was crazy, trying to adopt. If I told her about grassing over my garden and potentially having to deal with cruelty towards animals, she’d only advise me to withdraw my application.

I wandered over to the bookshelf which had given away my love of travel, running my hand across the book spines. Australia, Thailand, Colorado, Cuba . . . So many places, so many memories. Most years, somewhere different. Had I spoken the truth when I’d said those days were over? Yes, I thought so. At least for now. All that travel had been a hunger for discovery—not only about places but also about myself. For years, I’d been searching for something. I still was, I supposed. It was just that now I was searching closer to home.

My hand came to rest on a guidebook to Belize. I pulled it out. The cover image was of a woman swimming in crystal-clear water with a palm-tree-festooned island on the horizon. I smiled, opening the book to read the inscription. For Beth. Happy holidays! Smithy.

Smithy. God, it had been a long time since I’d thought about him. He was the one who’d first given me the travel bug. Without Smithy, I might never have travelled to all those other countries. Where was he now? The last time I’d mentioned him to Mark, he’d said they’d lost touch. Which was sad, since they’d been such good friends at university. But probably inevitable given the circumstances. Poor Smithy.





20


I was meant to be driving myself to uni on my first day—the car Richard had picked out for me was parked on the forecourt, taking up precious space. A red Mini, which Mark immediately nicknamed the Ladybird. But I’d failed my driving test, so for now, I couldn’t drive it.

“Mark can give you a lift in, can’t you, Mark?” suggested Sylvia.

“’Course I can,” said Mark.

So it was all settled.

I hadn’t deliberately applied to the same university as Mark. It just happened to be the closest university to Sylvia and Richard’s where I could study veterinary nursing. I could have studied somewhere else in the country, but I didn’t want to. Why would I when I knew I wanted to settle down in London eventually? At least, that’s what I told myself.

I was excited to be starting my course and pleased to be free of the petty rules and regulations of school. And now here I was, getting into Mark’s Vauxhall Astra for the thirty-minute journey to my future.

Despite the fact that we lived in the same house, Mark and I rarely spent any time alone together. We kept different hours—Mark often out late with his uni friends or round at a girlfriend’s house. Rosie and I had been knuckling down to get through our final school exams all year, so after we’d finished them, we spent most of the long summer lolling about idly in hammocks strung between trees at the bottom of the garden.

But Rosie had started a new job at the end of August, so the day I started university, she’d already left the house in her smart office clothes. As Mark drove away from the house, I had the sense that nothing was ever going to be the same again. Having experienced more than my fair share of change and upheaval in my life, I suppose it wasn’t surprising I felt suddenly scared and overwhelmed. Certainly, I could have done with Rosie’s moral support.

Mark somehow seemed to sense how I felt. Or maybe it was just blindingly obvious.

“It will be all right, you know,” he said. “For about five minutes, everything will seem a bit strange, but then you’ll make friends and you’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so. Your driving test too. Don’t worry about that. You’re bound to pass next time. Anybody can clip a kerb when they’re reversing. I do it all the time.”

I knew Mark would have ribbed Rosie something rotten if she’d been the one to clip a kerb during her driving test, and yet here he was, being really nice to me. Sylvia must have had a word with him. But I wished she hadn’t, because I wasn’t sure what to say to this nice, reassuring Mark. Teasing Mark—the Mark I was used to—would have been much easier to deal with.