Upstairs, he heard a small thunk as Anna kicked off her shoes and soon enough she was trotting back down the stairs, wearing a weird combination of purple corduroy skirt, green tee shirt and a rather loud orange and yellow cardigan.

‘Nice... I’m liking your style.’ He was keen to encourage her to wear what she wanted and to pick her own clothes. He’d learned that it was important—it helped Anna to develop her independence and allowed her to express herself. And he needed Anna to be a strong character. He wanted to encourage her at all times to feel happy about herself and her own decisions. To feel valued and beautiful. Because she was beautiful. With her mother’s good looks but thankfully none of her character.

‘Will you do me a juice, Daddy?’

‘Sure thing, poppet.’ He watched her twist the back door key and trot out into the garden. It wasn’t huge out there, and as theirs was one of the original show houses it was just plain grass, with one side border of bushes. Nothing too impressive. Nothing that needed that much work. Something he figured he’d get to later. Maybe in the New Year.

But it had the rabbit hutch. The main reason for Anna to go and play outside. He was hoping to get her a trampoline, or a bike, or something. Maybe for Christmas.

He was just diluting orange juice with some water when he heard his daughter let out a blood-curdling scream.

‘Daddy!’

‘Anna?’ His body froze, his heart stopped beating just for a millisecond, and then he was dropping the glass into the sink and bolting for the back door. What on earth had happened? Why had she screamed? Was she hurt?

Oh, please don’t let her be hurt!

‘Daddy!’

She ran into his arms, crying, and he held her, puzzled. What was it? Had she fallen over? What?

‘Let me look at you.’ He held her out at arm’s length to check her over, but she looked fine. No scuffed knees, no grazes, no cuts. Just a face flooded with tears. What the...?

‘Lottie’s bleeding!’ She pointed at the hutch before burying her face in his shirt.

He looked over the top of her head and could now see that the hutch had a broken latch and poor Lottie the rabbit sat hunched within, breathing heavily and audibly, with blood all over her and in the straw around her, as if she’d been involved in some sort of weird rabbit horror movie.

‘Oh...’ He stood up and led Anna away and back into the kitchen, sitting her down on one of the chairs by the table. ‘Stay here.’

‘She’s bleeding, Daddy.’

‘I know, honey. We’ll need to take her to the vet.’

He didn’t know if the poor thing might have to be put to sleep. There was a lot of blood, and Lottie looked like she might be in shock. He dashed for the cupboard under the stairs, where they’d put Lottie’s carrier and got it out. Then he grabbed some latex gloves from under the sink and headed for the garden.

‘I’ll get Lottie. Can you get your shoes on for me? And your coat?’

‘Where are we going?’

‘The vet. The animal doctor. She’ll need to check her over.’

‘What if she dies, Daddy?’ Anna sobbed, almost hiccupping her words.

He hadn’t imagined this. He’d agreed to have Lottie knowing that rabbits lived for around ten years, hoping that they wouldn’t have to face this day until Anna was in her teens. But not this early. Not now. He wasn’t sure how she’d handle a pet’s death at this age.

‘Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. Get your shoes on. We need to get her there quickly.’

Nathan headed into the garden, slipped on the gloves and picked up the poor, shocked rabbit and placed her in the box. Normally she fought going in the carrier. But there was no fight today. His heart sank at the thought of having to tell his daughter her rabbit might die. Had Anna not been through enough?

He pulled off the bloodied gloves and quickly discarded them in the bin.

He could only hope that the veterinary surgery was still open.

CHAPTER TWO

IT HAD BEEN a long, tiring day. After her doctor’s appointment Sydney had come back to the surgery and seen her first ten patients, and then she’d got round to her surgeries—a dental clean, two spays on cats, a dog to be neutered. Lunch had been quick, and then there had been more appointments: kitten visits, puppy checks, suture removals, an elderly dog that had had to be euthanised. Then she’d returned phone calls, given owners blood test results and now she was finishing off her paperwork. Filling in records. There were three animals being kept in overnight, but Lucy, her veterinary nurse, was giving them their final check before they left for the evening.

‘I’ll be ready to put my feet up tonight. Have you seen my ankles?’ said Lucy.

Sydney smiled sympathetically. Lucy did seem to be suffering lately.

Almost all the lights were off, except for in her office and at the surgery entrance, and Sydney was just debating whether to have a cup of tea here or go home and have it there when she heard a loud banging on the surgery’s front door.

A last-minute emergency?

She hurried through, switching on the lights as she went, and stopped when she saw who was on the other side of the door.

Dr Jones.

Oh.

Her pause was barely noticeable. At least she hoped so. Then she was rushing to the door, her cheeks flaming at having to let in the dishy doc. Though, judging by the look of worry on his face, he wasn’t here to continue his conversation about warm milk.

She opened the door and Dr Jones came in, carrying a pet carrier. Behind him, a little uncertainly, followed a little girl with chestnut-brown hair in two ponytails held by pink bobbles, her face tearstained, pale and stunned. Seeing the little girl, so like Olivia—no, so like her father—startled her and her stomach twisted painfully. As if she’d been punched in the gut.

She dragged her gaze away from the little girl and looked over at the doctor. ‘Dr Jones? Can I help?’

Am I stammering? I feel like I’m stammering.

‘My daughter’s rabbit. I think it’s been attacked.’

He lifted up the carrier, so she could see through the barred door, but it was impossible to gauge the extent of the animal’s injuries.

Sydney glanced quickly at the little girl. She looked around Olivia’s age. Maybe a bit older. She wasn’t sure. But she was young, and she didn’t need to see Sydney examining the rabbit if it was in a bad way. There were a lot of foxes out here in Silverdale Village. It was a very rural area, surrounded by farms and woodlands. Occasionally they even saw deer. The likelihood that there were animal predators around was very high.

All business now, she took the carrier from the doctor. ‘Maybe your daughter should sit in the waiting room whilst I take a look?’

The little girl slipped her tiny hand into her father’s. ‘Don’t leave me, Daddy.’

Dr Jones looked torn, but then he nodded. ‘I’ll sit with you.’ He looked up at Sydney. ‘Is that okay? If I sit out here with Anna?’

Anna. A lovely name.

‘Of course. I’ll just take a quick look.’

She hurried the rabbit through to the surgery, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it for a moment whilst she gathered herself.

That’s Anna. Anna! Not Olivia.

The table where she usually examined pets had already been cleaned down, so she laid the carrier upon it and opened it up.

Inside was a very scared, very shocked black rabbit. From what she could see at this stage it had injuries to the top of its head, its left eye looked damaged, and there were other fine puncture marks across its back and legs. Sydney held it gently whilst she checked it over. The ears looked okay, as did its throat, and it seemed to be breathing fine, if a little loudly. She listened to its chest through her stethoscope and tried to get a better look at the eye, but she couldn’t tell if it was ruptured or not.