‘Nope. Just thinking about Monty. I suppose I should be trying harder to win him around, in case someone is daft enough to want to take a chance on him. Especially since his owner’s obviously washed his hands of him.’
‘If anyone can do it, you can.’ Something in Mollie’s tone made Bella wonder if it was Monty or Noah she was referring to, but as she headed back to the boarding pens, she tried to put that rogue thought out of her mind.No more men. At least, not until Monty finds a new home.And if Monty’s behaviour was anything to go by, that would mean no more men for an awfully long time. Smiling ruefully, she called out to Monty when she heard him yowling. She wondered if there were any convents left in the West Country who’d be happy to take a slightly shop-soiled novice.
12
After finishing her shift at Purrfect Paws, Bella hurried home to take a quick shower and get ready for the evening at the Star and Telescope. The new scratch that Monty had bestowed upon her wrist smarted, even though Bella had washed it thoroughly and applied some antiseptic. Scratches were par for the course in the job, but this one from Monty had felt peculiarly personal this afternoon. She’d opened up his pen and walked in, amused to see that Monty was stretched like an unfolded concertina across the sunbathing platform at the top of the enclosure. He’d looked completely relaxed, and she hoped, for a moment, that he was finally beginning to let his guard down a bit. Monty had opened one eye at the intrusion into his space, but seeming to notice that she wasn’t carrying food, treats or anything else of interest, he’d closed it again disdainfully.
‘Hey, sweetheart,’ she’d crooned, and reached out a hand to rumple the top of his head, an area that he’d usually tolerate. Quick as a flash, Monty had lashed out at her with a forepaw and, though the cut wasn’t deep, it had drawn a line of blood.
‘OK, OK.’ Bella had withdrawn her hand hastily. That would teach her to try to stroke him without softening him up with some Dreamies, his favourite brand of treats, beforehand. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then, shall I? You miserable old bugger.’ She’d maintained the calmness in her tone, despite her words, and then beat a retreat to the First Aid box.
It didn’t take long to get ready for work, and, thankfully, the pub was busy that night. The landlord, Paddy, had recently taken to hosting an acoustic set by a young musician on a Saturday night, and, since the guy, Jason Flyte, appeared to be the West Country’s answer to Harry Styles, the clientele was coming from far and wide to listen to him. Bella was less enamoured of the music, and the musician, after he’d tried to put the moves on her a couple of Saturdays back, but there were far worse ways to spend an evening.
Especially when the pub’s door opened and in walked the amiable foursome of Thea Ashcombe, Nick Saint, Nick’s sister, Annabelle, and her husband, Jamie. Annabelle had recently had a much-longed-for baby, a boy, and this, it would seem, was the first night out she and Jamie had had since his birth.
‘Evening, all, what can I get you?’ Bella beamed at them. She was a few years younger than them, but it was impossible not to get to know people in a place like Lower Brambleton: eventually, anyone who stayed in the village long enough got to know everyone else.
Nick, taking the lead, spoke first. ‘Two pints of Carter’s cider, a pint of their Zero and an Aperol Spritz, please, Bella.’
Bella’s grin grew wider as Annabelle raised a humorous eyebrow at Thea. ‘Oh, my, are you getting classy in your old age? What’s wrong with a good old pint of the strong stuff, like everyone else?’
Thea laughed and snaked an affectionate arm around Nick’s waist. ‘Can’t a girl push the boat out when her boyfriend’s getting a round in?’
Annabelle grimaced. ‘To be honest, if I wasn’t breastfeeding, I’d probably be joining you, but Arlo’s rather inclined to have an extended midnight feed at the moment.’
‘I remember it well,’ Thea said wryly. ‘Dylan, in particular, didn’t sleep through until he was about a year old, and the midnight feed was a doozy!’
‘A year? Is it too late to take him back to the hospital?’ Annabelle raised her eyes heavenwards and flumped down on the nearest chair.
Bella shook her head to herself as she prepared the drinks. She had no desire, yet, to become a parent, and held those who did in the greatest of awe. Having not had the best of childhoods herself, and a mercifully remote relationship with both of her parents now she was an adult, the thought of starting her own family wasn’t anywhere near her radar.
‘Here you go,’ she said as she set the last of the three pints down. ‘Give me a sec and I’ll sort out the Aperol Spritz.’ A couple of minutes later she’d put that, in its bowl-shaped glass, on the bar. ‘Enjoy.’
‘Thanks, Bella,’ Nick smiled at her as he waved his card at the contactless terminal. ‘Please send my regards to Mollie when you see her, and Marmalade’s, of course.’
‘I will.’ Nick had adopted the not-very-inventively named ginger cat, Marmalade, from Purrfect Paws two years ago. Bella passed the framed picture of Nick and Marmalade on adoption day, which hung proudly alongside other successful adoption photos, in reception. Nick, with his beech-leaf-coloured hair, had looked as happy as Marmalade to find a furry friend, and until he’d finally got together with Thea Ashcombe a year and a bit ago, many people had joked that he and Marmalade were a match made in heaven. However, Nick and Thea were blissfully happy together now, although they maintained separate houses. Thea needed a sense of continuity and stability for herself and her children and wasn’t quite ready to take that final step and move in with Nick.
Harry Styles’s West Country doppelgänger started strumming as Bella mopped up some spillages on the bar. When she looked up again, it was to see Noah Hathaway standing on the other side of it.
‘Hi again,’ she said, trying to give him the same wattage of smile that she’d given Thea’s group a few minutes prior. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Pardon?’ The singer had ramped up the volume a bit for his opening number, and Bella had to lean over the bar and repeat the question. As she did so, she caught a waft of an expensive-smelling aftershave.Nothing but the best for this guy.
‘A pint of Moretti, please, and can I order some food?’
‘Sure.’ Bella raised her voice above the music to reply. ‘Do you know what you want?’
As Noah gave her his food order, she felt his warm breath tickling her ear. She shivered. She’d have to ask the singer to turn his amp down a bit – she couldn’t be getting this close to customers just to take their orders. Oddly, though, she didn’t mind it with Noah. That aftershave really was quality, and he’d obviously washed his hair before coming back out to the pub – she could smell a residual coconut aroma that reminded her of exotic holidays and balmy nights.
‘Er, could I open a tab, please?’
She hadn’t realised she was still leaning across the bar. Jumping back guiltily, she nodded. ‘Of course.’ Face feeling warm, she hurried to the Moretti pump and pulled a pint of lager.
Nodding at her, with the slightest of smiles on his lips, Noah took the pint before adding, ‘Put a drink in for yourself if you want one. It’s the least I can do for all the work you’ve done with Monty.’
Bella watched as his eyes focused on the still-livid scratch on her wrist. ‘Did he do that?’
She nodded. ‘I didn’t get out of the way quickly enough this afternoon.’ She hurriedly pulled her long-sleeved top down over the incriminating cut. ‘But it’s nothing. Occupational hazard.’
