by Penny Parkes
‘Fester, fester, rot, rot, rot,’ teased Taffy, giving away his secret chick-flick appreciation.
Holly smiled, so much common ground between them that had never gone away – even though she hadn’t always been able to see it for the last few months. ‘I’m just saying, once more and for the record, it’s no picnic being at home. It’s not just the kids and their homework, it’s the house and getting ready for Christmas.’ She frowned. ‘And I’m always convinced there’ll be someone or something I’ll forget . . .’
Taffy shot her a sideways glance. ‘Sure. But, I mean, Plum’s there too. How hard can it be?’
Holly stopped dead on the pavement, unsure if he was teasing her or not, poised to wallop him either way. He turned to smile at her and caught both her hands in his before she could act on the instinctive thought.
‘Look, it’s going to be an adjustment for both of us and we’re finding our feet this week. So all I’m saying is – let’s do just that. Let’s save any big decisions until we’re on a more balanced footing. Both of us. I’ll wager you’ve forgotten how draining a full week of healing the sick and placating the whiney can be.’
‘Maybe,’ gave Holly graciously. ‘But there are a few other things that I wanted to implement. I really don’t want to miss out on this Funding Application for the Young Carers either and—’
‘One step at a time,’ cut in Taffy. ‘Big picture, remember?’
Holly frowned. ‘But maybe I could just—’
‘We might miss out on all sorts of things, if we don’t take a moment to breathe.’ He paused and a flicker of doubt and discomfort shadowed his eyes. ‘Holly, I feel like we’ve been given a fresh start. And I’ve been so worried about us – you and me – and the kids . . . It just hasn’t felt “right” for a while, you know? And now, we’re talking, actually communicating again and I know that we’ll be okay . . . But I can’t do anything that might jeopardise that again, even if it is what’s best for The Practice. Do you understand? You and our children are everything to me.’
Holly felt a little winded by his emotional transparency – so out of character as to be almost worrying. And yet, he made a valid point. If their emotional investments flowed outwards, who would be keeping the home fires burning?
She dashed the image of a smiling Plum from her mind, obviously more unsettled than she’d realised by their earlier conversation. She had nothing to worry about on that front, if the expression of love on Taffy’s face was any measure at all.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said simply. ‘There’s been a lot to adapt to, to get used to and I’ve had to do so much of that alone . . .’ She swallowed hard. ‘I suppose all my plotting and planning with the twins and how my working life would fit around them reflects that – I was thinking about me as a “me” not an “us”.’
‘My fault,’ said Taffy gruffly, a little overcome perhaps by his part in her emotional withdrawal. ‘Maybe we should get the Team Taffy t-shirts out again?’
‘How about we make some new ones? Squad 42 hoodies?’ Holly suggested lightly, hoping that he might get the message that, at this point in their lives, he may not be the primary stakeholder. ‘And you know, I’m all for taking things slowly, but I really feel that it’s time to consider whether The Practice needs to adapt a little too. If we’re making changes, my inclination is go big, or go home.
‘I mean, if I’m going to leave my kids every day and come to work – frankly just to pay the nanny – then I’d like it to be work I’m proud of, you know? No half measures. I want to make the biggest difference I – we – can by whatever means necessary.’
Taffy frowned in thought. ‘Do you think we should warn the others that you’re on a mission again? If you’re going full Ninja, it seems only fair. I mean, Dan seemed really happy about the new plan last night, but—’
Holly shook her head. ‘Don’t you dare say a word until I’m ready to share. If there’s one thing I’ve learned recently, it’s that a change of perspective makes all the difference. I’m coming back with objectivity. It’s kind of disconcerting actually. A bit like when I got my reading glasses. You realise you’ve been muddling on for years, making do, squinting and then – boom – clarity.’
‘And I’m guessing you’ve switched the coffee back to full-caffeine?’ Taffy asked after a short pause, earning himself a disparaging look from his wife. He smiled. ‘Am I not allowed to tease you yet? Is that part of this new arrangement?’
Holly slipped her hand into his and rested her head against his shoulder. ‘You can tease me all you like, as long as you take me seriously too. I mean, what’s the point of putting my career on hold and taking a step back, if I can’t capitalise on the lessons I’ve learned and the clarity I’ve found – I want to move forward, but mindfully, not reacting to whatever crisis is brewing next.’
‘And there’s the whole raising-our-babies thing too,’ he said gently.
‘That too,’ Holly agreed. Certainly, she never thought she’d be taking such advantage of all the benefits her partnership agreement at The Practice had to offer. This flexibility certainly knocked any of Patronising Patricia’s return to work schemes into a cocked hat and she was inordinately grateful for Julia Channing’s rampantly feminist approach to drafting their individual agreements. Even if it had taken Holly a while to make the most of her partnership status, impeded more by a desire to always, always do the right thing. Maybe she wasn’t quite so different to her husband after all?
‘Morning!’ called Alec French as their route took them past the school gates, where he was manfully tacking up a sign about the latest after-school bake sale; a sign that was smothered in a tasteless array of tinsel and glitter, yet another reminder for Holly that Christmas was looming and demanding her attention.
Holly smiled in greeting. Not too much, just a little: enough to be polite and without giving her hormones notice. After all, she reasoned, since she was no longer furious with her husband and he happened to be standing right beside her being loving and supportive, any illicit thoughts about the lovely Mr French must be firmly quashed.
Mr French, for his part, was helping this along nicely with his stern expression. ‘Please don’t say you’ve forgotten to bring in your bakes as well!’ He shook his head in disappointment. ‘I’ve never had to cancel a bake sale before but we’ve had so little by way of donations . . . And we’ve no extra funding for the pantomime trip . . . I’d truly hate to have to cancel that too.’
He looked truly bothered and Holly’s go-to motherly-guilt was quick to flare. ‘You won’t really cancel, will you? I’m so sorry – I had remembered, but then with the Christening, it completely slipped my mind.’
‘You and the rest of the parents,’ he said grumpily. ‘I even made a point of saying they didn’t have to be homemade offerings – I know lots of parents are pushed for time. But that may have been a mistake: I’ve got three boxes of Mr Kipling, a hemp-seed cake and three fivers.’
‘A fiver cake?’ Taffy queried, somewhat missing the burden of his cry.
‘A five-pound note, on the basis that’s what they would have spent buying a cake, so let’s cut out the middleman. But in this case, the middleman is teaching the children how to raise money rather than just asking for a handout.’ He shrugged. ‘And to be honest the hemp-seed cake looks just awful.’
‘Two guesses who donated that,’ Holly said with a smile, distractedly checking her watch. ‘Look, how about I pop home and get Plum on the case with a couple of big tray-bakes? You could cut them into squares and sell them individually?’
Alec French’s face lit up, his smile illuminating his eyes, until their very blueness seemed to twinkle. ‘You could do that?’
‘I could and I will, but I’ll have to get moving.’ Holly turned away, trying to ignore the flutter of pleasure she felt, choosing to believe it came from the warm glow of benevolence.
As she slipped and slewed back across the icy Market Place, checking her watch once more, she realised that it wa
s all very well having a fresh start with Taffy and with work but that, just as it would take a little while to rebuild their bridges, the same might be said for surrendering the few buoyancy aids she’d been using to keep herself afloat, her flirty Headmaster fantasy among them.
She pushed open the front door, already out of puff, perspiring in her heavy down coat and wondering whether volunteering Plum’s services was quite the done thing.
She froze in the doorway.
Obviously what counted for the ‘done thing’ in Italy was slightly different. She cleared her throat loudly, but the couple wrapped around each other in the drawing room made no move to draw apart.
To be fair, Holly thought, with an unwelcome flash of envy for their uninhibited passion, they seemed pretty much oblivious to everything around them, so intent were they on exploring each other’s bodies.
‘Erm, guys . . .’ she attempted again, almost transfixed as she watched their hands slip into each other’s hair. Shocked, winded almost by the passionate scene she’d encountered. By the fact that she herself had been oblivious to the growing attraction that now seemed so obvious in hindsight. ‘Knock knock?’
She hesitated, unsure of the protocol for confronting her colleague and her nanny, caught canoodling during the working day. She was actually astonished to find that it was this salient point that rattled her the most. Who was she to say, after all, where the attraction may lie – even if she was a little blindsided – but surely taking care of her children had to be the nanny’s priority, not nailing the nearest dishy doctor?
‘Plum?’ she tried again. ‘I’m ho-ome!’ she called loudly, opening the front door again to allow it to slam heavily into place.
The two sprang instantly apart, hair tousled, eyes wide, pupils dilated.
‘Morning, Tilly,’ said Holly gently, her voice soft.
‘It’s not what you—’ began Tilly anxiously, tucking in her blouse with jerky flustered movements, oblivious to the tight look of hurt that flashed across Plum’s face at her immediate evasiveness.
‘It’s not a problem, Tilly, and please don’t leave on my account,’ Holly said in her best, most soothing, reassuring voice. ‘I guess I should have seen this one coming,’ she added with a smile. ‘You two make a lovely couple.’
It took very little to sum up the budding relationship she’d walked in on: Plum showing only concern that her boss had effectively caught her in flagrante, but with no embarrassment or shame; Tilly on the other hand, was clearly new to the notion of a same-sex liaison, almost hiccuping in her distress at being outed so summarily.
‘Please, Holly, you won’t say anything?’ Tilly managed.
‘It’s not my place to say a word,’ Holly said. ‘But maybe that’s something you two should talk about. After work.’ She paused. ‘Although Larkford isn’t the easiest place to keep secrets, I have to wonder why you would want to? Everyone here will be pleased that you’ve found each other.’
‘Everyone?’ said Tilly disbelievingly.
‘Everyone who matters,’ said Holly firmly.
‘And you don’t think—?’ Tilly began, before Holly interrupted her.
‘My only concern is that Plum’s focus should really be on her charges during the working day. What, or who, you do in your free time is entirely up to you.’ She smiled. ‘Seriously, if I wasn’t pissed off that you’re snogging when you should be taking care of my kids, I’d be popping open the champagne. You’re both far too lovely to be alone, when you could be so happy together.’
There was a tiny part of Holly’s mind, she had to concede – although only to herself – that was relieved. There had been no ploy in Plum’s indifference to the male attention she inevitably attracted, no cunning wiles in play. And maybe Tilly’s determined bed-hopping might yet come to an end, if she was prepared to admit her true feelings and inclinations, even if only in private for now.
The hardest part of all this would be keeping the news to herself, she realised. Oh and possibly mentoring Tilly had taken on a trickier, more personal, dimension.
She took in their dishevelled and awkward appearances, Plum clearly aggrieved at Tilly’s embarrassment. ‘Right, I need to talk to Plum about tray-bakes. And, Tilly, you can walk to work with me in a minute and give me the skinny on this lovely new relationship on the way.’
Start as she meant to go on, she decided. Open and unflappable.
She paused. ‘But seriously, girls, if you’re on duty with the kids, you’re on duty, okay?’ she said firmly.
‘Okay,’ they both mumbled like teenagers and Holly had to turn away to disguise her smile.
Chapter 34
After a hectic morning surgery, somewhat compounded by her late start, yet another homing-call from her mother, and a succession of apologies to each subsequent patient, Alice was more than ready to run to the pub to meet Jamie at lunchtime, even though Coco’s deep brown eyes pleaded with her for another walk in the park. The little chocolate-coloured cocker took enormous delight in gambolling through the last of the snow drifts, until the clumps of snow in her fur were like golf balls hanging from each leg. Not for either of them complaints about the cold; indeed compared to an Orkney winter it barely counted as a tad brisk. Nevertheless, Alice felt fragile, craving company and hot chocolate and someone to fuss over her that she would catch her death without an Aran jumper spot-welded to her very person.
And for that, she needed Tilly, not Jamie.
She needed Tilly to confirm that she wasn’t the kind of girl who dropped her friends the moment her boyfriend came to visit. And that, should the worst ever happen in her own life, she wouldn’t be drowning her sorrows alone in liquor and prescription meds.
‘Coo-eee. Only me,’ she said, poking her head around the door of Tilly’s new consulting room, hastily snaffled from Phlebotomy for her use since Holly’s return. ‘Pub? It’ll have to be quick, but rumour has it Teddy’s making those lush sausage rolls again.’
She broke off, confusion shadowing her face. Tilly could always be relied upon to rally at the prospect of skiving, or pubs, or indeed flakey pastry . . . And yet, nothing. No reaction at all.
‘Tills?’ Alice ventured, concern escalating at the sight of the pregnancy test on her desk and her reddened eyes. ‘Bloody hell – did you have any idea at all? I mean, how on earth are you going to cope?’ It wasn’t a considered reaction to the prospect of her friend having a baby, she had to admit, but even so she was staggered by the almost ferocious reaction it apparently provoked.
‘Jesus, Alice – I wouldn’t have pegged you for a bigot!’ Tilly dashed away a fresh onslaught of tears.
‘There’s nothing bigoted about wondering how the hell you’ll raise a baby on your own!’ Alice retorted, their friendship as always quick to heated words. She could only hope that, on such a sensitive topic, they might also follow their usual pattern and be quick to find common ground and absolution for their outburst.
‘What?’ Tilly said, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her top and swivelling her chair to face Alice dead on. ‘What are you going on about?’
‘The baby,’ replied Alice, gesturing to the positive pregnancy test in the emesis bowl on her desk. ‘Your baby. Why on earth would you take the test without me here, after last time?’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ exclaimed Tilly, tipping the entire arrangement into the red-topped bin. ‘That’s not mine. Just my last patient. Are you going to have a go at me about keeping on top of my disposables now too?’
‘Believe it or not,’ Alice said, sinking down into the chair beside her, ‘I didn’t actually come in here to have a go at you about anything. I thought you might fancy a little break, some fresh air, to spend some time around healthy people rather than . . .’ She gestured around the small dark room that boasted only a token gesture by way of a window and even that faced into the shadowed pathway that ran alongside the building – hardly optimal working conditions.
Alice paused, her brain taking a while to catch up.
‘But if you’re not up the duff, then why the tears? I mean, Tilly – in all the time I’ve known you I’ve only seen you cry maybe once and that was when Steely Dan the tortoise didn’t make it through hibernation.’
‘Steely Dan was the best tortoise, wasn’t he, though?’ Tilly said, setting off a fresh bout of sobbing. ‘And how many tortoises can say they went to med school, eh? That tortoise was going places . . .’
‘Tills, what’s going on? And, also, can I ask – why did you call me a bigot?’
Tilly suddenly became fascinated by the tissue in her hands, shredding the layers apart with intense concentration. ‘I thought you were talking about something else, someone else.’
‘The someone else you’re crying about?’ Alice asked quietly.
Tilly nodded. ‘We had a fight. I wanted to keep our relationship quiet while I worked out how I felt. It’s all pretty new to me and I didn’t know how people might react.’
‘To you being in a relationship, rather than shagging random punters every Friday night? Surely everyone will be pleased for you . . . Unless, Tilly, please say he’s not married?’ Alice asked, uncertain why Tilly was playing her cards so close to her chest, or why she suddenly seemed to give a damn what anybody else thought.
Tilly sniffed and shook her head. ‘It’s Plum,’ she said briefly. ‘I’m in love with Plum.’
‘Oh,’ managed Alice, struggling to change mental gears and virtually speechless. Although, the more the thought percolated in her mind, the more everything about her friend made more sense. ‘How on earth did I not know this about you? How did I miss this for a decade?’
Tilly gave a nervous laugh. ‘You think it’s weird that you didn’t know – how fucking unbelievable is it that, until I laid eyes on Plum, I didn’t have a clue.’
Alice shrugged with a smile. ‘Well, if you’re going to go that way, may I say mazel tov. Plum’s just wonderful. And surely way out of your league?’ It was staggering how quickly the two of them had returned to their usual repartee. Even a change in sexual orientation was seemingly not enough to knock them off their stride.
