by Penny Parkes
There was an awkward pause.
‘I’ll come over with you now and help get him settled, if you like?’ Kitty suggested. She smiled and scruffed Nigel’s ears affectionately. ‘I’d quite like to meet the bees too, if I may?’
Connor stilled, wondering how she seemed to instinctively know that the honeybees were his Achilles heel. Their hives were now dotted among the fruit trees in the orchard at Blackleigh Farm and their soothing buzzing was the one thing that made him feel at peace these days. The idea of them now, huddled together around their queen, perhaps shivering slightly and taking it in turns to feel the chill on the outside of their little apian family, made him feel quite emotional. It seemed a little unfair that penguins got all the good PR on this heroic team effort to keep warm. But then, when it came to his bees, he was a little biased.
The only question was whether he was ready to share that part of his life just yet. ‘They’re not really settled since the move from Dorset,’ he prevaricated.
‘Okay,’ she said, taking the hint, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the cheek. ‘I’ll leave you boys to it. Stay warm.’
Connor caught himself from leaning in, the soft vanilla smell of her hair alluring and anxiety-inducing in equal measure.
‘But I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. He held her gaze for a moment, willing her to understand how he was feeling, wondering how he could even begin to communicate that, when he didn’t yet understand it himself. Hoping she had somehow heard the unspoken.
Chapter 22
Holly hummed along to the radio as she prepared a platter of supper snacks for the kids, mindlessly popping a miniature breadstick into her mouth, before remembering that she had fully intended to give them up. Oops.
Platter in hand, Holly leaned back against the open playroom door and took a short moment to savour the small, yet significant changes Plum had brought into their lives. Tom and Ben were engrossed at the large craft table that Plum had found at the Red Cross shop, busily making seasonal collages with flour-and-water glue from heaps of magazines appropriated from Elsie’s stash of glossies as part of their evening entertainment.
Tom’s brow was furrowed in intense concentration and, Holly couldn’t help but notice, he hadn’t thumped his brother even once in the last half hour, even amongst the borderline hysterical excitement at the first snow flurries banking up in the garden and promising a snow day of sledging and snowballs tomorrow. Olivia and Lottie shuffled around happily on their play-mat, with Eric wedged firmly alongside as blocker. They really needed to savour every moment before the stop-start spurts of running took over and nobody ever sat down again, thought Holly with an indulgent smile. Even Olivia’s determined cruising was enough to get her across the room, hence Eric’s sudden interest in joining in the fun, well that and the large quantity of well-chewed rusks that could be relied upon as a handy snack.
There was homemade (from scratch) minestrone soup bubbling away on the hob and the distant rumble of the washing machine, dishwasher and tumble dryer sounded like the finest trio Holly had heard in a long time.
Not only that, but she’d actually washed and blow-dried her hair just now, simply because she could. Even overlapping with Plum during this transition period still gave Holly more time than she’d had to herself in years.
And yet.
And yet, still she felt this overwhelming need to have a purpose outside the home. She adored spending time with her babies and sons, revelling in their glorious preciousness and affection, but that couldn’t be the beginning and end of it all. Not when the doctor in her mind suggested all the ways she could be helping other people as well. Jess and Connor and Hannah for starters . . . Anything less would surely be selfish folly, it told her, repeatedly and with feeling. The novelty of lunch out, or a spa day would last about a fortnight in Holly’s approximation.
So maybe that’s what she should do?
She could take every moment of the next few weeks, helping Plum settle in and her children to adapt, and also catch up with friends, make a start on the Christmas shopping perhaps. Who knew, maybe she’d even have time for a massage or a manicure without it being a complete waste of time and money? And then, she decided resolutely, she was going back to work.
And if the team at The Practice were coping so bloody well in her absence, then maybe it was okay to explore other avenues. After all, it wasn’t exactly as though Dan, Taffy and Alice made it seem as though they even needed her. Mike, on the other hand? Mike just kept naming numbers that seemed to climb every time they spoke, in his quest to win her over to the dark side. He was nothing if not persuasive.
‘You hiding away with your babies?’ said Taffy, surprising her. ‘I thought it would be nice to be home for bath-time for a change, in case you needed some moral support.’
‘How very lovely,’ said Holly with feeling, this small gesture so typically Taffy that it came with a sense of relief that perhaps they weren’t really so off-piste with one another. A few more hours in the day, a little more time together, and maybe they’d be back on track in no time. Maybe it was just taking them a while to adjust – two babies, twice as much upheaval, perhaps?
Reassured, she leaned back against his chest. ‘You can help me watch how fabulous our children are,’ she smiled, knowing that nobody else could possibly be as biased as the pair of them together.
‘Another tricky day for you obviously,’ Taffy joked, wrapping his arms around her waist. He didn’t even seem to notice how much his ‘jokes’ were bothering his wife these days, to the point that she’d given up pointing it out, merely ignoring him and hoping he’d take the hint. Lizzie, of course, was keen that she employ positive reinforcement, just as Jamie the dog trainer had taught her. And Holly had been trying, she really had; there just hadn’t been much to reward in his erratic behaviour of late. Coming home to help with bath-time was definitely a step in the right direction though, she reckoned, deciding to make the most of it and not bite at his tactless remark.
Plum came towards them, a stack of neatly folded babygros in her arms. ‘Holly? Your mobile was ringing a moment ago, but I was in the laundry. I wasn’t sure if you answered or maybe there’s a message.’
‘Thanks, Plum,’ said Holly, impressed as ever by Plum’s seeming ability to walk the tightrope between efficiency and intrusion.
‘Leave it,’ urged Taffy. ‘Come and have a drink with me for a bit. Just at the kitchen table. Nothing fancy. Plum’s here now.’
‘Sounds great,’ said Holly, recognising an olive branch when she saw one, handing over the proverbial reins to Plum with a grateful smile, and heading for the kitchen, a lightness to her step. It was so unusual for Taffy to be home this early that she couldn’t help but hope the partners had seen sense at their meeting. She wasn’t a fool; she knew that Taffy shot down all of Grace’s suggestions about Holly coming back to work. But maybe this was the time to have a proper conversation about how life with four children, two careers, a labradoodle and a hormonal pig might actually work. For all of them.
*
Holly surreptitiously turned over her mobile in a moment of doubt, as she poured out two small glasses of Plum’s delicious mulled wine at the kitchen table, just checking it wasn’t something urgent. Just Dan. No message. She tipped the rest of the breadsticks from The Deli onto a plate for them to graze on. It would be hours until their supper but the cooking smells emanating from the Aga were making her stomach rumble.
Taffy stirred Plum’s soup appreciatively, flourishing the ladle so a small splatter of tomato flicked across the worktop. He made no move to wipe it up, instead leaving the splatters to congeal. ‘Right then, Wifey, sit yourself down. We have much to discuss and we don’t have long if I’m going to be Captain Bubblebath tonight.’ He reached across and snaffled a handful of grissini. ‘And it looks like we’ll be up at dawn to make snowmen at this rate, so we should probably aim for an early night.’
‘Okay,’ said Holly, trying to be concise and efficient with what
she wanted to say. ‘I’ve been wanting to talk all this through properly for ages so this is perfect. Did you read the website?’
‘The website?’ queried Taffy. ‘My mum hasn’t got a website.’ He frowned in confusion. ‘She’s just feeling a little sidelined since young Plum arrived, that’s all. And I promised her I’d talk to you about Christmas. I know it’s weeks away but apparently she’s phoned a couple of times and you haven’t called her back. She’s feeling pretty disposable, to be honest.’
Holly carefully put her drink back on the table, untouched. ‘And did she happen to mention when she phones? Hmm? Every single sodding day at bath-time, that’s when. I know I have another pair of hands now, but have you ever tried bathing four children and talking on the phone at the same time, have you? Because I did, the first gazillion times. And every single time, I explained. But she doesn’t listen.’
‘That’s a bit harsh. Maybe it’s just a good time for her to chat, you know, while Dad’s out doing the feeds on the farm,’ Taffy suggested.
Holly breathed out slowly. Arguing about his mother’s inability to read a clock wasn’t going to get them anywhere. ‘So I’ll phone her. At a time that works for us.’
He shrugged, seemingly losing interest in the conversation and having obviously said what he came to say.
‘It’s lovely that you’re here, actually,’ persisted Holly, ‘because Mike has been pressuring me for an answer and I’m still not sure what to say. I can’t help thinking there’s something to be gained by offering a—’
‘Mike? Rugby Club Mike? I thought we’d already agreed it was a non-starter?’ Taffy interrupted.
‘No,’ said Holly firmly, her hackles immediately rising. ‘We agreed it might be tricky logistically at first, getting in and out of Bath every day, but that the extra money would be nice. Covering a full-time nanny on a part-time wage was always going to be a juggle.’ She enunciated each word slowly and clearly, taking care not to sound accusatory or downright fucking furious.
Taffy just sighed and shook his head. ‘You know it’s not a real job, Holls. Come on, you need more from your work than just pandering to a bunch of over-privileged rugby players. And, you know, it’s private practice, isn’t it? Of course the money’s good. It has to be for you to sell your soul.’ He laughed at his own joke.
Holly blinked hard, a wave of nausea giving her pause. This was not the advice he’d given Dan when it sounded as though the job might be open to offers. When exactly had Taffy decided that his husbandly persona should be so closely modelled on her ex?
‘It is a real job, with a real salary. And since none of my other “partners” seem to miss me at The Practice, maybe it’s not so very daft to consider negotiations with the nice man with the big cheque book.’ She drew the line at quoting Elsie’s line about going where she was celebrated, not where she was tolerated, but she felt she’d made her point, if only by the shocked expression on her husband’s face.
She missed him.
She truly did.
She just had no idea right now where her Taffy had gone.
Surely if anyone was going to flip out over the extra offspring in their lives, it should be her?
A hammering at the front door jolted her from her self-righteous reflections and Holly got to her feet automatically.
‘If it’s one of your lame ducks or lost souls, can they come back tomorrow?’ Taffy quipped, the accompanying smile not quite meeting his eyes.
Holly just ignored him. Picking her battles was a strategy that got her through the day without punching anyone, on the whole.
‘Dan?’ she said in surprise. ‘Is this a team outing?’ She stepped back to allow Alice and Tilly to follow him inside, trailing clumps of snow into the hallway, a small blonde girl clinging tightly to Tilly like a koala, her hair matted to her scalp and her clothes on the wrong side of tired. ‘And who’s this?’
‘Can we get her some tea, Holls?’ asked Alice, clearly deflecting any questions until they were safely established inside the warmth of the house.
‘Of course,’ said Holly. ‘What do you fancy, my love?’ She was about to offer a bowl of soup when her professional reason asserted itself. Who knew when this little tot had last eaten a proper meal, or indeed what she was used to. Start small, start easy. She mentally scanned the contents of the fridge. ‘How about a little macaroni cheese? I’m Holly, by the way.’
The girl said nothing, utterly mute, shivering slightly, eyes wide.
‘This is Louise,’ said Tilly, cradling the featherweight toddler on her hip.
‘I’m so sorry to just turn up like this,’ whispered Dan as Tilly walked on ahead. ‘We didn’t know where else to go. The last few hours have been . . . Well, let’s just say we couldn’t let her be taken into care, not until we’ve spoken to her mum.’
‘Where is her mum?’ asked Holly, her voice so low that Dan had to lean closer to hear her.
‘She’s Keira Fowler’s little girl. And May’s been admitted now too. I just don’t think that poor family can cope with Social Services running amok at the moment,’ Dan replied, obviously still in shock.
‘We found May unconscious,’ Alice whispered. ‘We think she may have accidentally taken too many painkillers. We did what we could and the paramedics have taken her to Bath. But that still leaves Louise . . .’
Holly nodded, mentally recalibrating. They didn’t need to ask. She knew perfectly well why her team had landed on her doorstep. She had the space, she had the time and more importantly, after years of caring for the Fowler family, she had the motivation. ‘She can stay here for a bit until we work out what to do. But we need to let Keira know, so it’s official and above board. To give her peace of mind that she’s safe, if nothing else.’
‘Let me make a few calls,’ said Dan, heading back into the dining room where he couldn’t be overheard.
Taffy poked his head into the hallway where Holly was quickly thinking through all the steps she needed to take. ‘It’s like a busman’s holiday out here. What’s going on?’
Holly took a deep breath, for some reason doubting that Taffy might react the way she needed him to. He hadn’t been himself of late, but right now, she needed him to step up – to be the man she fell in love with. ‘We need to help out for a few days,’ she said, as she guided him back towards the kitchen and briefly explained the situation.
‘Okay then,’ he said simply. ‘Tell me what I can do.’
Holly’s heart seemed to bounce with relief, the compassionate look on Taffy’s face enough to repudiate any doubts she’d been nurturing.
Plum was at the stove, reheating the macaroni, Tilly leaning back against the worktop beside her, Louise still clamped firmly to her waist. It was a side of Tilly that Holly hadn’t seen before; clearly Louise’s plight had touched her in a way she could somehow relate to. Even the filth on Louise’s skin didn’t seem to faze her.
Plum looked up. ‘Your friend Alice is in the playroom with the girls and her Coco. I hope this is okay?’
Holly nodded. ‘Taffs, can you go and give Alice a hand? I’ll get a bath running for this little one. How do you feel about bubbles, Louise?’
Louise gave a barely perceptible nod, but it was enough to give Holly hope. She knew only too well what a difference a full tummy and some clean clothes could make to a child in distress. Who knew what she’d really seen that day, but the clean rivulets on her face spoke of far too many tears.
She held back for a moment, fascinated by the unspoken teamwork between Plum and Tilly to comfort this traumatised child without overwhelming her. Sometimes hanging back a little resulted in more progress than leaping in with both feet. Neither of them were mothers, but both were equally impressive in their instinctive nurturing. Holly felt a bubble of emotion in her chest that she could only describe as pride.
‘Okay then, Lou,’ said Holly, pulling up a chair at the table. ‘Are we going with ketchup or without?’ She flourished the enormous plastic tomato that Ben and Tom
adored so much, despite Elsie’s shudder of distaste every time it came out of the larder.
Louise said nothing, but her hand reached out in longing.
‘With ketchup it is, then,’ said Holly, as Louise lunged towards her, Tilly manfully managing not to drop her, until she had safely landed on Holly’s lap. ‘Steady, steady, Lou,’ said Holly, as the ravenous little girl began to shovel pasta into her mouth with a spoon. ‘Slowly, my darling, or you’ll have tummy ache.’
‘Thank God you were here,’ said Dan quietly from the doorway, his voice a little choked with relief.
‘Give yourselves more credit,’ said Holly, as she wiped a smear of ketchup off the little girl’s face on autopilot. ‘You guys had this covered. I just happen to have more kit than you. Thank you, Plum, and you, Tilly.’
The pair of them exchanged a smile, still like bookends by the Aga, the promise of a nascent friendship hovering in the air between them.
Dan pulled up a chair. ‘It’s all sorted for a few days’ respite care here, if you’re sure?’
Holly nodded. ‘Of course. We’ll make it work.’ She glanced outside, at the swirls of white framed by the window. ‘It doesn’t look like we’ll be going far for the next few days anyway, so what’s one more child in the mix, right?’
She gave him a reassuring smile, only to find that she had completely lost his attention. His gaze rested firmly on Louise. ‘Poor little mite,’ he murmured. ‘Do you think she’ll remember all this?’
Holly shrugged, deep in thought. ‘I guess that depends on what happens next.’
Chapter 23
Holly sat back on the sofa and watched the five pink-cheeked children in her care. Plum was beside her and they both cradled well-earned cups of coffee in their hands.
What a difference a day made.
Louise, or Lulu, as Ben and Tom had instantly renamed her, had yet to utter a sound, but she now pottered happily around the playroom, picking up bricks that had tumbled from the boys’ tower and handing them over dutifully. She wore a fresh, soft knitted dress and a pair of stripy tights, after a mercy mission to Lizzie’s that morning to raid Lily’s wardrobe. Her blonde hair fell in clean, silky curls and her eyes were bright after a decent night’s sleep.
