by Penny Parkes
Elsie made her way through to the hall to answer the door.
‘It looks like your private ambulance got here just in time,’ said Holly, stepping back to give them access. She turned to them. ‘Garth is it? Okay then, Henry here has had a stroke, so I’ll let you do the honours. And when you’re done,’ Holly beckoned to the figure that appeared in the doorway behind them, ‘I’m sure Chief Inspector Davis would love a word.’
The house was silent for a moment after Henry Bruce and his medical and police entourages had left.
Holly felt mildly deflated. All that intense panic and pressure had led to a bit of an anti-climax.
Elsie patted her face gently. ‘Let’s get a bit of colour back in those cheeks, shall we? And of course, we must attempt to avoid dehydration at all costs . . .’ She went over to the fridge and pulled out some fresh orange juice and a bottle of vodka. She waggled it at Holly. ‘Doctor’s orders?’
Holly laughed, utterly in awe of the speed with which Elsie had recovered her equilibrium. ‘Make mine a double,’ she said. Checking her watch on autopilot, Holly gasped. ‘The concert!’
Elsie passed her a drink. ‘It’s only five past. Relax . . . They’ll wait for me. They always do.’
They clinked glasses and smiled at each other. ‘I think we’ve all done very well,’ said Elsie.
Holly took a long drink and fought the burn. ‘To karma!’ she said.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ agreed Elsie. ‘Although, you know, Holly, that Doctor Bruce may have had a point. About my meds. Maybe I have been muddling them up, because these ones here . . .’ she jabbed her finger at a clear container holding little white oval pills. ‘Well, those are supposed to help with anxiety, but I’ve been taking them all day and it hasn’t made a jot of difference.’
‘Jesus, Elsie. How many did you take?’ asked Holly switching back into panic mode.
‘Oh, only one or two,’ said Elsie, ‘and then maybe another couple . . .’
Holly reached over to take Elsie’s pulse which was strong and steady. ‘Do you mind if I . . .’ she leaned over to get a better look at what Elsie had been taking ‘all day’ and then burst out laughing with relief.
Elsie gave her an arch look. ‘Is my decrepitude amusing to you, young lady?’
‘No,’ said Holly. ‘But you are. And no wonder these tablets haven’t been working. They’re Tic-Tacs!’
‘Oh,’ said Elsie, rather losing the moral high ground with that one. ‘Well, at least I know I’ll die with minty fresh breath.’
Chapter 42
‘Did anyone order a feisty octogenarian?’ asked Holly, pulling open the stage door with a grin and ushering Elsie in.
Relieved cries of ‘Elsie!!!’ echoed back stage, until Grace shushed them with a wave of her clipboard.
Taffy and Julia rushed forward, relief etched onto their faces. Taffy scooped Elsie up in his arms and swung her around until she giggled like a schoolgirl. Gently placing her back onto her feet and making sure she was steady he looked her squarely in the eye. ‘We were all so worried. Are you alright?’
‘I am now,’ said Elsie, ‘thanks to this one.’ Elsie pulled Holly to her side.
Holly couldn’t look up. She’d hoped to insert Elsie into their midst and sneak away. Elsie’s ability to recover like India rubber put her to shame. She felt shaken and nauseous and certainly not in a position to cope with Taffy.
Without waiting for an invitation, Taffy pulled Holly into a hug, dropping a lingering kiss onto her hair as Elsie breathlessly filled them in on their exploits.
Holly’s mind was all for pulling away. Holly’s body seemed to have other plans. She found herself relaxing into his embrace, the warmth of his arms and the comforting smell of him. It was like coming home to a crackling log fire on a snowy day. He was home. The softness of his shirt pressed against Holly’s cheek and his arm tightened imperceptibly.
‘I thought you weren’t speaking to me,’ he murmured into her hair.
In that instant, Holly was forced to remember all the reasons that she wasn’t. She pulled away, just as the audience in the Little Theatre burst into a deafening round of applause.
Elsie looked dumbfounded, more shocked than she had all evening. ‘You started without me?’
Grace rushed forward to explain and Holly quietly extricated herself from Taffy’s arms. ‘Just a little warm-up act, Elsie. We didn’t know how long you’d be and the crowd were getting restless.’
‘Hmm,’ said Elsie suspiciously. ‘Has Dan gone out to do our opening yet?’
‘No, no,’ soothed Grace. ‘We just wanted to keep the masses happy.’
Holly tilted her head and listened. Whoever was on stage had the most amazing voice and seemed to be singing a cappella. Not only that, but they sounded awfully familiar. ‘Grace? Who is that? They’re doing an amazing job. You know, they almost sound as good as Barry O’Connor!’
Holly couldn’t help but think how much Lizzie would have enjoyed this warm-up act. Okay, so it wasn’t the real thing, but how many years had Lizzie been listening to his records on a loop?
‘Well, actually, that’s the thing,’ Grace whispered excitedly, dabbing at her forehead and looking all overcome. ‘It is Barry O’Connor! In the flesh!’
Holly and Elsie turned sharply, listening harder.
‘Isn’t it exciting?’ said Grace, flushing happily. ‘He even signed my clipboard!’
Elsie was softening a little, apparently happy to concede the stage to a fellow luminary but Holly was just plain confused.
‘But how did he . . . ? I mean, who . . .’
Grace ferretted around on her clipboard and produced a small cream envelope. ‘He arrived with this, for you.’
Holly immediately recognised the handwriting on the envelope and tore it open. What on earth had Lizzie been up to?
Holls,
Please accept this ‘delivery’ as a token of my wholehearted apology. Will and I have been talking and he made me see, that if ever there was a time to break my non-apology rule, it was now.
I’ve got my friend Dave from Breakfast News with me and he’s doing a big feature on your efforts – better late than never to join the party. Don’t even ask how I found Barry – I may actually have broken several laws.
I’m so sorry. Break a leg with the concert – I’m sure it will be amazing. I’ll be standing at the back, wishing I hadn’t been so fecking stubborn and bought myself a seat. Maybe we can catch up later? Lxx
PS Please don’t tell Will that I had a sneaky cuddle with Barry – a lifetime’s ambition achieved – surprisingly lecherous for an old bloke!
Holly felt the relief wash over her. Whatever had happened with Lizzie, they could sort it out. They had too much history to let their friendship ebb away. She peeked through the curtains and watched Barry doing his signature hip moves as he belted out his all-time hits.
She looked out over the crowd and spotted the twins clapping along, delighted to be hearing some songs that they recognised, thanks to Lizzie’s O’Connor obsession. Marion had obviously enlisted the Major as her babysitting support, as Tom was standing on his lap, wearing half the Major’s medals and looking particularly pleased with himself.
Holly spotted Lance and Hattie in the row behind. He was looking pale and a little fragile, but his arm was around Hattie’s shoulders, the other hand resting gently on the bump. A little boy. And after such a successful surgery, Lance would have every chance of watching him grow up.
Holly felt quite choked.
The theatre was simply heaving, children perched on knees, seats surrendered to the elderly and Lizzie dancing at the back, a cameraman right beside her.
The atmosphere was electric.
For all her worries about their little concert, they clearly weren’t short of support. Barry drew to the end of his set and the crowd roared their approval. Promising a reprise later in the proceedings, Barry left the stage, allowing Dan and Elsie to take their places.
‘Tha
nk you all so much for coming out tonight and showing your support for The Larkford Practice,’ Dan began, a whoop of cheers interrupting him mid-sentence. He looked a little overwhelmed for a moment, so Elsie seamlessly took her cue.
‘And may I say how heavenly it is to see you all here, old and young, on this very special evening.’
Dan cleared his throat and continued, his delivery a little stiff next to Elsie’s natural charisma. Rather than looking stupid though, Holly realised he had somehow hit the perfect note. He looked young and accessible, nervous yet proud, and completely committed to their cause. ‘As you are all aware, we’re here, joining together, because we have a common goal,’ he said. ‘We share a common belief – that Larkford needs its own medical centre. That Larkford would not be the same without its own medical centre.’ The cheers from the residents almost drowned him out and Elsie laid a hand on his sleeve, urging him to take a beat.
‘And that the opinions that matter are not those of the number-crunching bureaucrats in London, but those of the people that live here. You, in fact. The people who rely on the team at The Practice to keep you healthy and to be there for you when you need us. And for that, I thank you.’
Dan dipped forward into a small bow, as the cheering and stomping of the audience crashed over him like a wave. He came up smiling.
Elsie, looking completely in her element, carried on. ‘And rather than trotting out all our finest and best, we thought we’d throw in a few little challenges – let you enjoy seeing your medical team in a whole new light. So, to that end, we’ve been learning a few new skills just for you.’
There was a slight kerfuffle at the back of the hall, as the Major’s terrier appeared to have broken loose and to now be challenging Eric to a duel. Eric, in response, broke into his best Clapton impression, ‘Wooo-hooo.’
Everybody burst out laughing and Lizzie looked mortified.
‘Ladies, gentlemen, boys, girls and assorted livestock,’ said Dan, completely dead-pan. ‘I give you The Pharmacy Girls!’
Half an hour into the concert and all was ticking along nicely to plan. Grace’s choir had been sensational and Holly had adored seeing Julia let her hair down, donning a pair of tights as Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The audience were in buoyant, excitable mood and met their attempts at fresh challenges with warmth and humour.
Jade’s roller-skating scene from Starlight Express may have come to an abrupt halt, but Holly reckoned she’d probably get a few phone numbers off the back of it. Her little outfit had been decidedly skimpy for dancing, even more so for falling!
Holly waited backstage, her palms clammy and her stomach rolling. Part of her was excited that the twins would get to see their mother perform on her cello, not tucked away in the spare bedroom, but actually perform, on a stage in a spotlight, where the acoustics of the theatre would add a sensual warmth to her music. She wanted them, in a very simple way, to know that she had other talents besides an unerring knack with the Playdoh.
The other part, of course, was quietly screaming in her head, ‘What on earth were you thinking? All your patients are out there. All your colleagues are back here. Don’t screw this up . . .’ She smoothed her palms down the long charcoal length of her dress. She just wanted to look her audience in the eye and be proud of what she could do. She was fed up of being a pale imitation of her true self.
The freedom came from knowing that, without Milo’s feelings to tiptoe around, she could just relax and be whoever she wanted to be. The twins would cuddle her no matter what. Their love was unconditional – at least until they turned eight, she reckoned. Then pocket money and cake might play a bigger role.
She jumped as a warm hand settled on her waist and Taffy materialised beside her in the darkness of the wings. ‘Break a leg, Holly. I’m so looking forward to hearing you play.’ He ran his other hand over the burnished wood of her cello lovingly. ‘I’ve always loved the tones of a cello, you know? It’s friendlier than a violin somehow, don’t you think?’
Holly watched his hand as it stroked her beloved cello and swallowed hard. It was one thing that he was supportive of her efforts at work, praised her ideas for The Practice Campaign and played with her children like a long-lost uncle, but this complete acceptance of her cello as an integral part of who she was, made Holly feel as if she were finally at peace.
The risks, the drama and the adjustments of the move to Larkford all suddenly felt worthwhile, as she looked up into his eyes.
Everything she was feeling was reflected there and her heart tumbled slowly, as if righting itself after a long sea voyage. Accustomed to lavishing her love and attention on her boys and mad Eric, she felt completely blind-sided by this emotional, immediate response to Taffy.
Taffy Jones who’d been there every step of the way for the last few months and who now, it seemed, had the ability to tune into her own personal wavelength.
Taffy Jones, who also came with a side-order of secret, pregnant girlfriend, she reminded herself quickly.
Their timing really did suck.
She swallowed a sob and took a step back. The hurt flashed in his eyes as he followed her lead.
‘Okay then,’ he said quietly. ‘Go and play your socks off. Then we’ll show those Carpenters a thing or two.’ He lingered, obviously waiting for something, waiting for Holly.
She swallowed the ball of tears in her throat, barely trusting herself to speak. This evening’s emotional rollercoaster was beginning to take its toll. She nodded. ‘See you in a bit then.’
He made to reach out to her, but pulled back when he saw the panic on her face. ‘You’ve done an amazing thing here, Holly. Let’s at least have a celebratory ginger ale before we go on. Keep our wits about us?’
‘But you hate ginger ale,’ Holly managed inanely.
‘I do indeed,’ he smiled, as he walked away, ‘but you don’t.’
Holly’s fingers were sore and her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes filled with tears of happiness as she stood up to take her bow. Her performance had gone better than she had dared hope. All the emotion of that moment with Taffy had been poured into her bow work and goose-bumps had prickled her neck throughout. She’d even managed to look up during a gentle adagio to see the twins watching her open-mouthed with delight.
Half the audience knew that this was her hare-brained scheme to begin with and they rewarded her with a standing ovation. The twins broke away from Marion and ran up on to the stage, wrapping themselves around her legs. She crouched down, as Dan stepped from the wings to take her cello and she scooped their little writhing bodies into her arms.
Tom pressed a sticky kiss onto her cheek and Ben pulled back to look her squarely in the eye. ‘Clever Mummy,’ he said clearly and slowly. Holly thought she might die with pride.
‘Ladies and Gents, I think we’ll have a short interval. Teddy Kingsley has some refreshments for you all, donations only. And we’ll be back shortly with a few surprises.’
Holly slipped down from the stage to thank Marion for all her help. Marion just smiled. ‘It’s actually the very least I can do, Holly. After everything you’ve done for me.’
Holly obviously looked as confused as she felt, so Marion simply held out her left hand, which now bore an emerald that was almost as big as the smile on her face.
The Major leaned into the conversation, gruffly adding his own thanks. ‘I do hope we can persuade you to play your remarkable cello at our wedding.’
Holly kissed them both soundly, unable to find any words.
‘I shall sing too,’ announced Tom proudly, polishing his medals.
‘Indeed you shall, young man,’ said the Major with such gentleness that Holly saw him in a whole new light. The spring in his step, the softness of his gaze. ‘After all, it’s thanks to your mummy that I’m getting married at all!’
‘But . . . married . . . so quickly . . .’ managed Holly.
The Major just shrugged. ‘When you know, you know. One little fight over a sausage roll a
nd here we are. I just needed someone to open my eyes.’
Marion and the Major looked so blissfully, besottedly happy as they took the twins off for squash and crisps that Holly felt quite adrift.
So much for life being easier for the young – it was the oldies in this town who had the right idea.
Holly turned around at the tap on her shoulder and was immediately swallowed into a tearful hug that enveloped her with Chanel No 5. ‘Bloody hell, that was brilliant!’ exclaimed Lizzie, having finally fought her way through the crowd to Holly’s side.
Holly grinned at her exuberance and simply hugged her back.
‘Can you forgive me for being such a selfish bitch?’ asked Lizzie against her shoulder.
‘I’m just so glad you came. I’ve missed you!’ managed Holly. ‘But you didn’t have to risk arrest to bring me an apology. You can just say sorry, you know.’
Lizzie shook her head. ‘I wanted my first proper apology to be a good one. And besides – I thought you wouldn’t tell me to sod off, if I turned up with Barry O’Connor.’
Holly laughed and shook her head, their hug forced apart by a rather determined Labradoodle. Eric was licking Holly’s hand as she spoke, lavishing her with doggy kisses. ‘I’ve missed you too,’ said Holly, ‘and your mad mistress.
‘There’s a fair bit to catch up on,’ said Holly. ‘We may need to have a proper natter in the pub later.’
Lizzie shook her head. ‘The deli for coffee and then you’re talking.’ She held out a sobriety chip from AA and looked uncomfortable.
Holly clasped Lizzie’s hand and the chip tightly in her own. ‘I’m very proud of you.’
Lizzie shrugged. ‘Early days. But Will made me see that I couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay and drowning my sorrows.’
‘Sorrows?’ Holly tilted her head with concern.
‘Oh Holls, I’ve been lying to everyone, myself included. I’m so bloody miserable, juggling work and the kids – Jack of all trades and master of none – I don’t know how you manage it, but I can’t. I’m so sick of having to “live the dream” for the magazine. Half my work relationships are as deep as a puddle and the other half are trying to steal my job. That’s why I have to be so bloody perfect all the time!
