Occupational hazard of being a vet, a beast’s hind leg.” Andy lifted his legs cautiously on to the sofa.

Tam Morrison looked concerned when Elizabeth sought him out. “I haven’t seen the bull this morning,” he said. “I’ll come with you to the field.” The bull had been purchased by Lord Mannering on Matthew’s advice, and had cost a great deal of money, so Elizabeth was dismayed to see that the fine animal her husband had nicknamed Bonnie Boy was indeed limping.

“What’s the matter with him, do you think?” she asked Tam. “Has he stood on something?”

The dairyman scanned the field.

“Lucky he’s in by himself, if that’s the case. You set Jimmie to mend the barbed wire fence yesterday. He wouldn’t have dropped some, would he?”

“He would be mending it from this side – there was no reason for him to go into the field,” Elizabeth said. “Tam, you get on with your work. I’ll phone the vet. I’ll let you know when he comes – it will take the three of us to get Bonnie Boy into a pen so Andy can examine him.”

She did so and Andy Kerr was there within minutes, having been close by.

Roared

Bonnie Boy was generally docile, but today he was an angry Ayrshire bull.

He allowed Andy to thread a chain through the steel ring in his nose and to clip it around the base of his horns, but when it came to walking to the pen he refused to cooperate.

“I’m going to put on another chain,” Andy said, suiting actions to his words. “Take one each and hold him steady. We’ll see if he lets me close enough to have a look.”

Elizabeth was within inches of Bonnie Boy’s redbrown and white face. His large eyes were usually benign but now had a malevolent stare.

She could see the sheen of sweat on Tam’s forehead and felt it on her own as she gripped on to the chain, unable to spare a hand to wipe her face.

“It’s a deep cut,”

Andy said. “It needs stitches – we’re going to have to get him into that pen.”

“Come on, boy,” Elizabeth urged. “Shall we try leading him again, Tam?”

Andy slapped the bull on his flank and this time Bonnie Boy moved forward, but as Andy moved to shut the gate of the pen he suddenly roared and kicked out with his back leg, catching the vet off guard.

Tam moved quickly and slammed home the bolt. Elizabeth kneeled by Andy, whose eyes were closed.

She leaned over him and put her ear on his chest. His heart was thumping. Relieved, she sat up.

Andy’s eyelids fluttered open. He tried to pull himself up.

“Ouch! Should have seen that coming.” He moved his hands down his torso. “I think he’s just winded me. No broken bones.”

Elizabeth and Tam helped him up.

“I’ll get my bag and do those stitches,” Andy said. He swayed a little on his feet.

“You’re in no fit state to do anything,” Elizabeth said, torn between taking care of him and worrying about Bonnie Boy.

“I reckon I could do it,” Tam said, “if you give me guidance, Mr Kerr.”

“Could you, Tam?” Elizabeth asked thankfully. She watched in trepidation as Tam gently lifted the afflicted hoof.

“It’s deep all right,” he said. “Looks like he stood on something sharp.”

He raised his head to look at Elizabeth.

“Like barbed wire.”

Hazard

Elizabeth insisted on driving Andy home in his car while Tam followed in her own. Together they helped him into his house.

Elizabeth had never been in it before. It was clean and tidy, but somehow comfortless, a bachelor establishment.

“I’ll phone your colleague, tell him to take over from you today,” she told Andy. “You’ve had a shock,” she said as he protested.

“Occupational hazard of being a vet, a beast’s hind leg.” Andy lifted his legs cautiously on to the sofa.

“And I’m going to pop into the surgery on the way home and get Doctor Scott to come and look at you,” Elizabeth went on.

“No need,” Andy said. “I can tell nothing’s broken.” “I feel responsible. I’d like him to check you over.” The pink Mini was outside the doctor’s. Elizabeth looked at her watch.

The doctor would be finishing morning surgery and about to start his house calls. It was an odd time for Crys to be there.

As she got out of the car, the door of the surgery opened and Crys came running out. Elizabeth could see that she’d been crying.

Struan Scott stood in the doorway for a moment then went back inside.

Elizabeth held out her arms to her sister. “What’s happened?”

“He’s getting married!” Crys wailed. “He’s had a fiancée all along!”

Shall we go for a walk? It’s such a lovely afternoon,” Mamie asked Neil.

“If you promise not to run on ahead of a shuffling old man.”

Mamie tucked her arm through his. “Doctor . . . the doctor said gentle strolls would be good for your back.”

Neil’s face darkened.

Mamie berated herself for mentioning Struan Scott.

Bad back or no, Neil had been all for going down to the surgery and having it out with the doctor for playing fast and loose with his daughter’s feelings. Crys had begged him not to. Mamie agreed. “Crys is grown up. She knows you’re upset on her behalf, but it will only make things worse.”

Mamie sighed as they turned off the tarred road and along a grassy track.

Rumour

“He won’t be here much longer. His six months here will be up soon. Poor Crys. She fell hard for him.” “Always thought he was smarmy,” Neil growled. Mamie squeezed his arm.

She knew that Neil’s opinion of Struan was in retrospect – they’d both liked him and believed him honest, until the moment when Crys, having heard a rumour he was engaged to a girl in his home town, had confronted him.

Both their daughters were going through the mill at the moment, Mamie reflected. Crys had driven off in the pink Mini last week and was now in London, throwing herself into work, and crying on the shoulder of her school chum, Robbie MacLean.

And Elizabeth? On top of her ongoing tussles with the factor, Rodney Shaw, she had the worry of the accident that had happened to the estate’s prize bull.

Fortunately, his cut hoof was on the mend and vet Andy Kerr had recovered from being kicked.

More tomorrow

A Time to Reap was previously a serial in The People’s Friend. There’s more great fiction in The People’s Friend every week, £1.40 from newsagents and supermarkets.