by Penny Parkes
She followed the twins inside, as they set off on a mission to find their Bob The Builder diggers, and checked her watch. She was cutting it fine as always. Afternoon clinic, then rush back here in time to get Jean settled with the boys and away. Holly had restrained herself from commenting that Jean was always more than happy to babysit when Milo asked, but when Holly did, she was apparently taking advantage.
Either way, the time for getting out of this had passed. She’d already got through the snide comments from Milo when she’d suggested postponing until after the concert, ‘Well, if you can’t even tear yourself away for one night for the sake of our marriage, that tells me everything I need to know, doesn’t it?’
Sadly, thought Holly, as she reluctantly pulled clothes to pack off the chair in her bedroom that was currently doubling as her wardrobe and general dumping ground, Milo’s sniping was probably closer to the truth than she dared to admit.
The boys safely ensconced at Nursery and covering each other with paint, Holly somehow got to work with time to spare. She tapped on Julia’s door and wandered in. Julia had another of her ghastly green smoothies on her desk and it smelled like silage. ‘I don’t know how you can drink that!’ Holly said, wrinkling up her nose.
Julia shrugged. ‘You get used to it. I keep telling myself that if it tastes that bad, it must be doing me some good.’
‘Ha!’ said Holly. ‘When I first started here, you told me that it was all about having a refined palate and that you actually liked them.’ Holly looked a bit uncomfortable and then blurted, ‘I thought you were a right pretentious twat.’
‘Did I say that?’ said Julia, pulling a Wallace and Gromit face. ‘Yeah. That actually sounds more like me. But then, in the spirit of honesty, when you first started, I couldn’t stand you. So annoying! All that bounciness – all ponytail and adorable clumsiness. Argh! And then, do you remember the day we were introduced and you were all feisty and stood up to me? You know, like a little terrier that thinks it’s a big dog? Well, then I thought I might have you all wrong.’
‘So I’m not annoying any more?’ asked Holly with a grin.
‘Oh no, you’re annoying as hell, I’ve just got used to it now.’
‘Hmmm. Not entirely sure that’s a compliment, but you know, the way my day’s going, I’ll take what I can get.’
‘Rehearsals not going well?’
Holly looked at Julia, searching for some gut feeling about whether this new friend of hers was to be trusted. ‘Rehearsals going very well, too well possibly.’
‘Ah,’ said Julia, who seemed to need no further explanation. ‘And isn’t tonight the Big Date Night?’
‘It is.’
‘Ah,’ said Julia again. She wrinkled her nose. ‘Maybe it’s time to do some critical analysis? Pros and Cons?’
Holly waved that idea aside. ‘I’m not twelve. I can’t base my life decisions on a pros and cons list . . .’ Holly stopped as she saw the expression on Julia’s face. ‘Not that there’s, you know, anything wrong with people who do that . . .’
‘Ah shut up, Holly, you know I love my lists. Doesn’t mean you can’t take a step back and see what feels right. My mum used to make me toss a coin to decide stuff. If I felt disappointed, then I knew that I needed to choose the other option. If I felt relieved, then job done. It’s probably the only piece of advice she’s ever given me that made sense.’
‘And that actually sounds much more like me,’ said Holly, wondering whether she had time for a quick ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ before afternoon clinic. ‘Anyway, how’s Operation Double Bluff going?’
Julia had spoken to all the other doctors last night, reassuring them of her support and filling them in on all the details. Holly had been quietly impressed by Julia’s commitment to the cause. She knew, although Julia had never explicitly told her, that money was an issue and yet, here she was, turning down a small fortune to support her colleagues. In a world where actions spoke louder than words, it was safe to say that Julia’s actions had been very well received. In fact, Holly couldn’t help but notice that a certain Dan Carter had been more than a little bowled over.
Holly grinned, wondering whether, if Julia could bear to deviate from her three-year plan, that she might just get her happy ending there after all.
‘To be honest,’ Julia said, ‘I’m hating it. I’m already living in fear that Henry will tell someone else I’m part of his dastardly plans and then I’ll be back to being a social leper again.’
‘Hey, you weren’t a social leper,’ Holly intervened. ‘Just you know, private and sometimes a little outspoken . . .’
‘You mean rude?’ Julia shook her head. ‘I always told myself that I was the only one being honest – saying out loud what everyone in the room was thinking. But then Elsie gave me a talking to about filters the other day. Apparently, if I can’t say anything nice, I shouldn’t say anything at all. Unless it’s funny . . . Seems I can get special dispensation to speak my mind if it’s funny.’
Holly nodded. ‘Sounds about right. You can think what you like, though. No one can police what’s going on in your head.’
‘That’s just as well at the moment. Double Agent Channing reporting for duty and all that . . . But, to be fair, I think I may have missed my calling, actually,’ Julia replied. ‘Perhaps I should call GCHQ if I’m out of a job? Henry’s just spilling the beans now, and the more aloof I am, the more he wants to impress me. He’s emailing me all the financials this afternoon, so that should be eye-opening. I told him that he was all wind and piss and I needed some concrete proof that he was good for the money.’ She shook her head. ‘Honestly, what is it with men and this “treat them mean, keep them keen” business?’
‘Don’t ask me. I don’t understand men at all. I don’t understand why George isn’t furious about all this – he’s just meekly accepting the closure as a given and letting us run around like headless chickens. And I really don’t understand why Henry is such a Machiavellian piece of shit. And, on a personal note, I don’t understand why, after months of ignoring me, my husband is suddenly hell-bent on a romantic weekend away!’
‘Don’t you?’ asked Julia, leaning forwards. ‘You must surely see what his motivation is, even if the others elude you.’
‘What?’ said Holly eloquently.
‘He’s marking his territory, isn’t he? Now you’re in demand and part of the team and surrounded by fit doctors who fancy you . . .’
Holly flushed beetroot red. ‘No, you don’t know Milo . . . he wouldn’t be that prosaic. He likes to think he’s above all that.’
Julia shrugged. ‘Okay then, but he was in here the other day warning Dan off . . .’
‘What?’ yelped Holly. ‘Dan?’
Julia nodded. ‘I guess he is exactly that prosaic after all. Looks like your weekend might be more interesting than you think. Maybe he’s about to go all caveman to win you back?’
Holly had a sudden vision of Milo bopping her over the head with his club and dragging her off by her hair. Truth be told, albeit in rather metaphorical terms, wasn’t that exactly what he was doing by guilting her into going?
‘Right, enough of this chit-chat. I have a patient to assess. Reckons her friends are teasing her because she looks dyslexic. I don’t even know where to start with that one!’
By the end of the afternoon, Holly had dished out emergency contraception, antibiotics and anti-depressants. She’d held out the box of tissues more times than she could count and she’d been presented with three different Wikipedia print-outs – it made her wonder why she’d bothered with that pesky medical degree after all, when Mr Google could apparently diagnose at the click of a mouse.
She’d had one lady refuse to take the Pill because all the hormones were going back into the water cycle and making the fish angry. She’d had another refuse to go for an MRI for a suspicious lump, because she thought the radiation might give her cancer. The wonky logic in that conversation had used up all of Holly’s diplomatic r
eserves.
Even the news that Lance’s operation had gone brilliantly, and Hattie’s scan had revealed they were expecting a little boy, had thrown Holly into a spin. Her emotions were bubbling so close to the surface, she was feeling decidedly out of control.
She would definitely need to regroup before an evening with Milo.
Holly was actually quietly furious with herself about this negative state of mind she’d sunk into. Six months ago, Milo running around being all attentive would have felt like a lottery win. His ‘flirtation’ in Reading had knocked her self-esteem and trust far more than she cared to admit. It had taken an enormous amount of effort to move past that. But now there were three texts on her phone claiming that he ‘just couldn’t wait’ for their time away and all Holly felt was mildly irritated.
Why couldn’t they go next weekend? And what on earth had he said to Dan Carter?
Holly couldn’t help thinking that she would be more bowled over by Milo rolling up his sleeves and painting some scenery for the concert, or perhaps taking the boys to the park, or even giving her that elusive fantasy – a lie-in.
It was only in recent weeks that Holly had noticed something: she didn’t need the grand gestures.
Taffy was just as likely to make her day with a well-timed Orange Club, or Elsie might make her feel loved and supported, simply by letting her feel heard or appreciated.
It was the small everyday stuff that floated her boat. Change the sheets on the bed, read the boys a story and cook me a steak: I’m yours, thought Holly, wondering when she’d become such a cheap date.
Milo was all about the grand gestures though, all flash and no substance.
Holly reached into her wallet and pulled out a coin. Heads for Milo, Tails for Taffy, she thought, wondering if she’d lost her mind.
As the coin spun through the air, Holly held her breath. In that moment, as the flash of silver rotated in front of her, Holly got her answer. ‘Please be tails,’ she whispered.
Holly wandered out of The Practice in her own little world.
With a toss of a coin, she had somehow found a way to connect with what was going on beneath all the logic and her need to do the right thing.
She wanted Taffy.
She needed Taffy.
Just the thought that this could happen made her feel light on her feet.
She sat on the wall that lined the car park and rehearsed what she was going to say. She tried not to think about the conversation with Milo that would inevitably ensue. Just for a while, she wanted to enjoy the momentous decision she’d made.
It was so unlike her, so selfish and pleasure-seeking. She couldn’t quite believe that she was going to do this, to ignore the very rubric of her life – sod doing the right thing, sod looking at herself in the mirror every day with a clear conscience, knowing she’d been her best self . . . She was about to break every rule and she couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy.
She swung her bare legs against the wall, the moss tickling the back of her thighs. She wondered for a moment what Lizzie would say. Did it matter? If everyone she knew stood up and told her that this was an awful idea, would it make any difference?
Holly’s pulse was racing as she checked her watch yet again and wondered where Taffy had got to. She could see Grace in the front office, shutting down computers and Dan talking to a young slim blonde girl in reception. They seemed to be having a row and Holly craned to get a closer look.
This girl was everything that annoyed Holly. She must have been in her twenties but she had the whole tiny and fragile looking, pre-pubescent thing going on, with the flicky blonde hair and wide eyes that always seemed to reduce grown men to adolescent boys. Holly knew she was too judgemental, but she just couldn’t help judging the kind of guy that was attracted to that kind of girl. What did it say about them?
But then, the same could be said for the fad of huge bottoms that looked like baboons. What sort of a guy thought, hmmm, she’s pretty, if only her arse was larger . . . What sort of a girl filled her bottom with implants?
Holly shook her head. Although she’d said to Julia that she didn’t understand men, maybe she just didn’t understand people full stop.
Maybe, this time next week, people would be saying the same thing about her? Not the bottom, obviously. But her decision. Would the town of Larkford be scandalised that Holly had ripped her little family apart just so she could be happy?
Holly felt the first cold icicles of doubt worm their way down her back. It was all very well flipping a coin and finding relief in your subconscious reaction, but then reality had to be considered.
While all these thoughts were stampeding through Holly’s mind, she’d absent-mindedly been watching the drama in reception unfold. Her attention only really snapped into gear when Taffy stepped into the room. It took all of a minute, for Taffy to take hold of this girl’s arm and escort her from the premises.
His face was angry and his voice carried down the car park toward Holly. She automatically shrank back against the branches of elderflower behind her.
‘Well then, tell me,’ said Taffy angrily. ‘What the hell are you hoping to achieve by coming here?’
The girl stood in front of him defiantly, her back to Holly and hands on her hips. ‘I think I deserve some answers.’
‘Oh you do, do you? Turning up here, at work, of all places. How thoughtless is that?’
The girl just shrugged. ‘I’ve seen the website. I know what’s going on. And I think it’s time I laid down my marker. Nobody walks away from me.’
Taffy sighed and ran his hand through his hair. ‘Look, it’s not as straightforward as you think. Everything’s up in the air.’
‘Not my problem,’ she said. The girl turned sideways and laid her hand on Taffy’s arm, her head tilted coquettishly. Her pregnant belly jutted out between them, tight and high and almost comical against her tiny, girlish frame. ‘I just think that a father should be involved in his child’s life, don’t you? Financially, at the very least.’
Holly felt the bottom drop out of her world as she watched the two of them argue. She knew Taffy well enough to read his body language. He was clearly cross with this girl for turning up at The Practice but also sympathetic to what she was saying. Their voices got lower as they appeared to find some common ground and then Taffy put his arm around her shoulders to guide her back inside.
Holly couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. Other images, older images, of Milo with his arm around that student flashed into her mind. Teeny tiny blonde girls. Ruining her life.
So that was that then. A timely wake-up call that all men were basically the same. Taffy was going to be a father and she knew that he would be an amazing one – just not to her boys.
The heady smell of the elderflowers made Holly’s stomach lurch unhappily.
‘All plans are made to be changed,’ she murmured, trying to soothe the searing pain that clawed at her chest. She looked around her, feeling disoriented and lost.
So, no Lizzie, no Taffy and, in all likelihood, no job.
But she did have her boys and, if it wasn’t too late, a husband who wanted to whisk her away.
Perhaps it was always meant to be so, she wondered. Better the devil you know and all that . . .
All the justifying and reasoning kept her walking forward.
The part of her that had finally been acknowledged and heard only moments before, being soothed back to sleep with empty platitudes.
But as she turned into her road and saw Milo’s car, she couldn’t help but wonder – did she really need a devil at all?
Chapter 38
Holly fidgeted in the passenger seat of Milo’s beloved Saab, trying to keep her feet squarely on the mat. Frankly, she’d rather be slumped in her seat with her feet on the dashboard, but if she wanted the weekend to go well, there would need to be a few compromises. Compromise number one: behave in Milo’s car.
She tried not to think about the bigger compromises she was making and
pushed Elsie’s voice from her mind.
She felt shaken and tearful, replaying the scene with Taffy and the pregnant girl over and over again in her head. She rubbed at her temples as her headache gained momentum and she wondered what on earth she was doing.
She could acknowledge now, with the benefit of hindsight that she’d fallen deeply, irrevocably in love with Taffy Jones. A slow, affectionate burn had flared into a passionate longing and she could still feel the whisper of that fleeting kiss imprinted on her lips. Seeing him with that girl had ripped a hole in her heart that made it difficult to breathe.
He’d built her faith that things could be different and then he’d trampled it under foot.
It was time to put aside all these foolish notions that Elsie had been layering into her mind. Should had its place in her lexicon – as a mother and a wife and a professional, should was the fuel that kept her days on track.
Picking moments? Ha, well that implied a certain amount of choice, didn’t it?
Picking battles? Well, who had the energy for that?
Holly ran her hand over the walnut dashboard and sighed. Her job may be in jeopardy, but she could still save her little family. So, maybe in a weird way, this mini-break had come at just the right time – to remind her of everything she did have.
For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in good times and in bad.
She tried to muster some enthusiasm; after all, Milo was making the effort. It was time she logged back in and stopped being selfish.
She watched Milo under the bonnet, tinkering away with bottles of Evian and washer fluid. She could have sworn he’d allocated more time for getting the car ready for their night away than he had for himself. It was one of the things that Holly used to find so endearing about him. She couldn’t remember when that had morphed into yet another annoyance.
Milo’s mother referred to him as a Gentleman Mechanic. As far as Holly could tell, that meant he never got dirty, never actually got under the car, but was permanently to be found, cashmere jumper shoved above the elbows and head under the bonnet. He claimed to know what he was doing, but since the car spent more time in the garage than on the road, Holly wasn’t convinced.
