The door was opened by a tall woman with dark hair and a welcoming smile.
‘You must be Mac! Come in, love. I hope you’re hungry, I’ve made enough to feed the five thousand.’ She ushered him into a wide hallway and called up the stairs, ‘Evan! Our guest’s arrived.’
‘Well, put ’kettle on then,’ came the reply.
The woman rolled her eyes. ‘All charm, isn’t he? Come through to the front room. I’m Tricia, by the way. Evan’s better half if you hadn’t already guessed.’ She laughed and led him into a sizeable front room, separated from a dining room by an arch. There were fireplaces in both rooms, but both had been blocked up and the open fires replaced by modern gas fires. A large table was laid for tea, with three place settings on the spotless white tablecloth.
‘Take a seat. Tea or coffee?’
‘Whatever you’re making,’ Mac said, finding it impossible not to warm to this friendly, approachable woman.
‘Well, Evan only drinks Yorkshire Tea, and I only drink Maister’s own-brand decaffeinated coffee, so there you have it. Incompatible in every detail and always have been. No wonder my mother only gave us a year.’ She chuckled. ‘Had our ruby wedding anniversary three years ago, so what did she know? So, tea or coffee?’
Mac found he was smiling. ‘Tea, please. One sugar. Just a splash of milk.’
‘Coming right up. His lordship won’t be a minute. He’s just soaking off the remnants of another day.’ She winked and hurried through to the dining room, which he realised was connected to the kitchen.
He settled back in the sofa and gazed around him, noting the family photographs on the mantelpiece and walls. Children of varying ages and from different eras, wedding photographs, a family portrait. He realised he knew nothing about Evan at all, but it was clear he was a family man through and through. He felt a pang of envy for the vet’s perfect life.
‘Well, you made it then.’ Evan’s booming voice interrupted his thoughts, and he half got to his feet in greeting before he was told not to bother.
‘We don’t stand on ceremony here,’ Evan assured him. ‘Just make yourself comfy. Home from home. What a day I’ve had! Cats are the very devil, you know. I’d rather face a charging bull than a cat in a temper. And a very young tortoise! I mean, how are you supposed to know what’s wrong with a tortoise? They only have one expression, and how am I meant to examine it? Do I use a tin opener?’
He chortled, just as Tricia arrived with a tray of drinks. ‘Take no notice of him,’ she told Mac. ‘You’d never believe it from the way he talks but he’s a marvel with animals. And he’s very fond of tortoises. Used to have them when you were a kid, didn’t you, Evan?’
Evan sighed. ‘I did, but that was back in the days before we knew how cruel it was to keep them the way we did. They need specialist care, you know. Not shoving in a garden and left to fend for themselves and then put away in a cardboard box for the winter and forgotten about. Do you know,’ he said, leaning forward, ‘not all species of tortoise hibernate? And they should be over three years old before they’re put away for the winter anyway? And,’ he added, nodding his head furiously, ‘they should be checked over by a vet first. And that’s not all!’
‘Yes, yes,’ Tricia said, rolling her eyes. ‘But it’s quite enough for now, thank you very much. I’m sure Mac doesn’t want to know about tortoise hibernation.’
‘Hmm.’ Evan hitched up his glasses with a sigh. ‘I suppose not. Got enough on his plate with his own animals, eh?’
‘Ooh,’ Tricia said, settling herself beside Mac on the sofa. ‘I’ve heard all about your little menagerie. Evan tells me you have Highland cattle. How marvellous! They’re so beautiful, aren’t they? I’ve got quite a thing for them myself, haven’t I, Evan?’
Evan groaned. ‘Haven’t you just!’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not kidding, Mac. Highland cow tea towels, Highland cow mugs, Highland cow letter rack, even a bloody Highland cow teabag rest, andshedoesn’t even use teabags! I’m surrounded by them. What is it with people, anyway? Why do they feel the need to buy all this stuff? Bet most of them would run a mile if they saw a real one coming towards them.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Mac said, ‘but I reckon if they knew how much looking-after these animals take they’d not be so keen.’
‘Are you finding it hard going?’ Tricia asked sympathetically. ‘It must take some getting used to, especially when you’re not used to having animals.’
Mac nodded, wondering if Tricia knew all about him, too. It wouldn’t surprise him. Despite their gentle teasing of each other, he suspected that the Joneses told each other everything. He found, to his surprise, that he didn’t mind too much.
‘Shall we say it’s been a learning curve,’ he said wryly. He sipped his tea. ‘This is lovely. Thank you.’
‘I hope there’s not too much milk. Evan likes his that strong it would make your eyes water. I don’t know why he bothers with milk at all, really I don’t. How’s your Stella doing, by the way?’
Mac gave her a startled look.
‘Tricia used to go to Lightweights meetings with her,’ Evan explained. ‘Used to be quite chummy with her, didn’t you, dearest one?’
‘I’ll give you “dearest one”,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He only calls me that when he’s being sarky. He never liked me going to that club, did you?’
‘I did not,’ Evan agreed. ‘You were perfectly fine as you were. Just because your Auntie Glenda said?—’
‘Yes, well, never mind all that,’ Tricia said hastily. ‘Have you seen anything of her lately, Mac? Stella, I mean. Not my Auntie Glenda.’
‘Not for a while,’ Mac admitted. ‘But funnily enough, she’s asked if she can visit me at Watersmeet tomorrow afternoon.’
Evan raised an eyebrow. ‘Interesting. Progress, do you think?’
