Practice Makes Perfect

by Penny Parkes

  Holly silently handed him the print-out of their latest patient satisfaction survey. She would bet the contents of her pension fund that he hadn’t seen one as positive as that in a while.

  Holly looked up and caught Alice’s eye. Alice gave a nod and Holly breathed a sigh of relief. Holly’s Plan B had all been so rushed this morning that she’d had no way of knowing whether Jamie and Alice would have had time to talk during her interview. Thank God for Grace, her right-hand behind the scenes, pulling it all together.

  Coco yapped again, almost as if on cue.

  ‘And of course, the innovation at The Practice doesn’t just end with our management style, or our health education programme,’ said Holly. ‘Coco here is one of the first dogs in the UK to have spontaneously acquired the most wonderful skill. She’s going to be receiving additional training through the assistance dogs’ programme, but she’ll be doing most of that here and in the hospitals nearby.’

  Holly looked up to see the pride glowing on Alice’s face.

  Just because Coco had been able to see beyond the limitations of her original role, it didn’t mean she was broken. Holly knew only too well that, as a grown-up, one tended to see how the world worked and think that was the only way. But her children and Coco clearly knew otherwise – take off the limitations and then you start to see what’s possible. Coco wasn’t broken, she had merely succeeded in achieving what the humans here were aiming for and evolved to the next level of care.

  ‘Coco is able to detect abnormal cells with her nose,’ Holly said slowly. ‘She can smell cancer.’

  Edgar looked up, his face a picture of amazement. ‘But she’s trained for diabetes?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Alice, ‘but since she’s been here at The Practice, she also alerts when a patient has cancer cells. We don’t know yet whether that’s all cancers, but we’re hopeful that we can hone this incredible skill.’

  Holly carried on. ‘So far, Coco has spontaneously alerted for cervical and prostate cancer, melanoma and breast cancer.’

  ‘And pancreatic,’ said Edgar quietly, swallowing hard. ‘I only found out last week.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Holly, her growing antagonism towards him instantly disintegrating. After all, he was only doing his job and, indeed, asking all the questions she herself would have asked too.

  ‘Can’t be helped,’ he said. ‘But there’s my story.’ He leaned down and stroked Coco’s ears and she instantly relaxed, as though her message had been heard.

  Edgar Herring looked up at Holly. ‘Look, we both know that there are enough holes in this Model Surgery nomination to drive an ambulance through, but I can’t fault your intentions. Innovation, compassion, education. It’s what we should all be striving for, if we didn’t have to jump through hoops for funding. And God knows, if you’ve got Derek Landers on your case, he won’t give up without a fight but, to be frank, I don’t really appreciate being used as a pawn in his personal vendetta. So for now, let me write about Coco and the wonderful team I’ve met here and you lot can figure out your relationships and management style in your own time.’

  ‘That sounds just wonderful,’ said Holly, as Coco leapt onto Edgar’s lap and even her waterproof mascara struggled to keep up.

  She wiped her eyes with one of Taffy’s ironed handkerchiefs and a slow smile spread across her face. She could get used to this feeling of empowerment. Not so much ‘fake it till you make it’ she realised, as complete belief in herself and her abilities, to the point where they became a reality. And she knew now with absolute clarity what she had to do next.

  Holly was still feeling flushed with nerves and relief by the time Taffy appeared at The Practice, looking incredibly pleased with himself and with Eric trotting beside him. ‘Mission accomplished! One bear located and reunited with tearful owner. Tearful owner now happy as a pig in muck.’

  ‘But how . . . ?’ Holly managed, knowing full well that a Winnie the Pooh Search could easily be a day-long operation, due to Ben’s penchant for tucking him away ‘somewhere safe’.

  Taffy leaned down and scruffed the top of Eric’s downy head. ‘Well, I have to confess, I did have a little help. I got Eric to sniff Ben’s pyjamas and then took him all around the house saying, “seek him out”.’ He was obviously terribly proud of this stroke of inspiration.

  Holly threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. ‘Thank you. That was genius. I couldn’t bear to think of Ben crying all morning on his first day at Hattie’s.’ She dropped her voice to a whisper, ‘I was worried she’d send him back to Pinetrees if he was a nuisance.’

  Taffy shook his head. ‘Hattie’s made of sterner stuff. When I got there, they were baking gingerbread biscuits and the only way you could tell Ben had been having a little snivel were the track marks in the flour on his face. They’re fine though, honestly. Although I have had to promise Eric a pint, to say thank you.’

  Holly laughed. ‘Well, he might prefer a bone, but the thought was there.’ She leaned into his side as they made their way back to the doctors’ lounge. ‘So aren’t you going to ask me how it went?’ she said, unable to conceal the smile on her face.

  ‘Priorities, Graham. First the kids, then the dog, then me . . .’ He leaned down and stole a kiss. ‘And then we can talk about work. Having said that, your poker face really does need a little work.’

  Holly shrugged, totally unfazed that she’d given the game away. ‘It was brilliant. I did everything we talked about. Change the focus, change the story. And Coco was amazing. I feel ghastly even thinking it, but it was just perfect that he had cancer too. And he seemed to love the Health in the Community Scheme – that was the real game-changer.’ She was still gushing about the interview by the time they’d made coffee and grabbed a belated breakfast. Sitting back in the big squishy sofa, with Eric on her feet, Holly was able to feel properly proud of what they’d achieved this morning. There had been no need for lies or obfuscation – she’d been able to let the work at The Practice speak for itself. A Model Surgery, some might say, although not necessarily for the reasons decreed by the NHS.

  Alice and Jamie walked in together, with Coco trotting neatly between them. In a funny way, the little spaniel looked utterly serene for once, as though she could finally relax now her humans had belatedly cottoned on to what she’d been trying to tell them. Alice took off her little red jacket and Coco immediately made a beeline for Taffy, sitting firmly on his foot and looking at him imploringly.

  ‘Jesus!’ said Taffy in alarm. ‘Does that mean I’ve got cancer?’

  ‘No, you muppet. It means you’re eating a bacon sandwich.’ Holly reached across and tore off a tiny bit of bacon. Coco delicately nibbled it from her fingers and wagged her tail.

  Eric’s mournful woo-oo-oo had them all in stitches. ‘You can have a bit too, for saving Winnie,’ Taffy said in a silly voice, handing over a sizeable chunk. Eric though, merely laid it on the floor between him and Coco so that they could share.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Jamie. ‘No offence, but I think the dogs around here are more evolved than the people.’

  As Coco and Eric curled up together contentedly, Eric’s tail beat a slow tattoo against Holly’s leg. She smiled at Taffy. ‘Thank God for that. Finally. They’re in love.’

  With a completely straight face, he tore off another chunk of his sandwich and handed it to her. ‘Well, if that’s how we do things now . . .’

  Holly laughed but pinched the tasty morsel nevertheless. ‘I don’t need bacon. It was going off on a mad jaunt to find the bear that did it for me.’

  ‘What?’ Taffy replied, clearly thrown. ‘So, not the whole life-saving, quick-thinking, rushing Ben to hospital? Or the most excellent skill-set in knackering two small boys on a Sunday morning? Or,’ he leaned in closer, seeking clarification, ‘my masterful skills in the bedroom?’

  Holly blushed but shook her head. ‘Nope. Definitely the sniffer dog approach to family drama. What can I say, I’m easy to please, but infinitely har
der to understand.’

  Taffy said nothing, utterly baffled.

  Julia stopped in the doorway and watched them laughing together. Her evening dress for Elsie’s party was ready and draped over her arm and congratulations were poised on her lips. Word was spreading throughout Larkford, as indeed it always would, and already several little baskets of dog biscuits had been delivered to Coco at The Practice and Alice’s clinics were fully booked for days. Apparently the idea of getting a ‘check-up’ from Coco was infinitely more appealing than any intrusive tests or examinations. Julia could easily imagine why, and that empathy alone surprised her – maybe she was finally coming around to the fact that science and emotion weren’t such strange bedfellows after all?

  Quentin had been in reception grilling Jamie about access and trying to convince him into a special documentary, before Edgar Herring had even left the building. Jamie, however, had been absolute in his response; this was a work in progress and nobody would be relying on a diagnosis from his canine consultant until due process had been addressed.

  It had been a further revelation to Julia that she’d wanted to quietly cheer Jamie on from the sidelines, detached in a way she couldn’t have foreseen from Quentin’s scheming and machinations.

  She stepped back out of view now, as the volume and celebrations rose in the doctors’ lounge. She didn’t need to worry – Holly would be there to keep Jamie on track, and Alice, and maybe one day even Taffy.

  She smiled to herself, as she took another step away from the merriment. They had each other and, as long as they remembered that, they wouldn’t be short of support.

  A warm hand on her waist stopped her short. ‘You weren’t planning on just slipping away were you, Channing?’ said Dan softly. He knew her so well, it was barely a question.

  She shrugged, the silk of her evening dress slithering from her arm with the movement. Dan caught it easily. ‘I always did love you in this dress.’

  Their silence said more than any words ever could. Together, the dress between them, it was a tangible reminder of everything they had loved and lost.

  ‘I thought I might just—’said Julia, unable to finish her sentence, the pain of leaving etched on her face, but the anticipation of her new beginning making her eyes shine.

  Dan leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Safe travels, Jules. I’ll pass on your goodbyes.’ He let go of the dress and, for just a moment, Julia hesitated. Goodbye seemed so final.

  ‘Exciting times ahead,’ she managed, nodding towards the others. ‘For all of us.’

  ‘I’m so proud of what you’re doing, you do know that, don’t you?’ said Dan quietly, uncertainly – as though he had no idea how this sentiment might be received.

  For Julia, the validation was enough – just enough for her to breathe. ‘I do,’ she said gratefully, as she squeezed his hand for the last time and walked away without looking back.

  If she looked back, even for a moment, she was afraid she’d forget ever to look forward.

  Chapter 48

  There was a brightness and levity in the very atmosphere of Larkford that evening. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the scent of honeysuckle danced on the evening breeze. ‘Trust Elsie to organise the most perfect evening for her party. Although I dare say that even the weather wouldn’t dare defy her wishes,’ said Holly as they walked across the Market Place towards her house, still buoyant from her earlier success.

  Holly slipped the strap of her one and only ‘posh frock’ back onto her shoulder and smiled at the sight of her three ‘boys’ all dressed up to the nines. Taffy had even been persuaded to put on a suit and she had to confess that the sight of him looking so dashing had her pulse racing in a most disconcerting fashion. She took the twins’ hands and gave them a little squeeze, praying they would be on their best behaviour tonight.

  Elsie’s huge, glossy front door had been thrown open and the great and the good of the community were turning up on her doorstep in their summer finery. Before they could even adjust to the sight of Elsie’s garden dressed to impress, an over-zealous photographer stepped into their path and snapped away, the flash peppering Holly’s vision with fireworks and spackles of shadow.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Taffy under his breath. ‘It’s like a garden party at Buckingham Palace.’

  And he had a point, thought Holly, although going by the conjuror on the patio, the lanterns swaying in the light evening breeze and the uniformed waiters passing around cocktails, perhaps the theme was more royalty of the Hollywood variety.

  Eric took it all in his stride, trotting obediently at Holly’s heels, looking like the cat that got the cream, although Holly knew he’d be disgusted at the very comparison. The notion of bringing dogs and children to such a swish event seemed like madness to Holly, but Elsie had insisted. And when Elsie insisted, there was little point in arguing.

  ‘You’re here!’ cried Elsie, spotting them amongst the throng. ‘Oh, my darling girl, I hear you were an absolute wonder with that journalist chappie. I’m so, so proud.’ She kissed Holly deftly on each cheek, leaving a small smudge of Chanel Rouge Allure and then deftly brushing it away with her thumb. ‘And you both look so stunning. Ozney, Ozney darling – do come and take a few photos of me with my family.’

  She gave Holly a mischievous wink. ‘What? We’ve all been thinking it for months.’

  As the twins posed miraculously beside Holly and Taffy, with Elsie tucked in beside them and Eric sitting at their feet, the evening sun cast gentle shadows and the light was just flawless. ‘Now that’s a shot for the mantelpiece if ever I saw one,’ said Elsie happily.

  ‘I’ll be saying a few little words before everyone gets squiffy by the way, so don’t send the boys upstairs too soon. I want to mention you all in dispatches.’ Elsie threw up her hands in glee and a selection of diamond bracelets slithered down her slender arms. ‘Now, Holly, I’m banking on you to ply me with ginger ale and the odd aspirin. I want to party like there’s no tomorrow, understood?’

  ‘Understood,’ Holly managed, still wobbly with emotion from the ‘family’ photo. As they made their way through the crowd of friends, patients, and colleagues, Holly and Taffy barely made it two yards without somebody saying well done on the interview. In Larkford it seemed, nobody actually needed to read a newspaper to know everybody else’s business. It was something Holly had struggled to get used to when she first moved here, but now she couldn’t imagine it any other way. It wasn’t just nosiness, as she’d first assumed; it was very much a desire to feel connected and supported.

  Lizzie lurched into view with an incredibly excitable Labrador puppy on a lead. Her usual stylish layers had been replaced by a neat quilted gilet and a clip-on bag of doggie treats. The beaming smile on her face more than made up for the lack of sartorial elegance. ‘Meet Roger,’ she said in delight. ‘I’m in charge of socialising him.’ She sounded euphoric and her ever-tolerant husband Will stood beside her, looking frankly relieved to have his wife back on sparkling form.

  ‘And when they said socialising,’ Holly teased, ‘did they actually mean champagne and canapés?’

  Lizzie shrugged. ‘Probably not, but then any assistance dog living around here, needs to get used to the high life.’

  ‘Quite right,’ interrupted Reverend Taylor, wandering over to stroke Roger’s ears. Her own little terrier, Dibley, had been banished from all public events, due to his propensity to mate or mutilate, but Eric and Coco were happily frolicking on Elsie’s perfectly manicured lawn with a Frisbee. ‘I should have socialised Dibley a little bit more and then he wouldn’t be quite so keen to be the centre of attention.’ She gave Taffy a nudge. ‘Speaking of which, you can’t hide forever, young man.’

  Blousy Betsy Harrington made her way across the grass towards them, her red patent heels sticking in the soft lawn with every pace. ‘Cooeee, Dr Jones?’

  Holly tried not to laugh as Taffy visibly shrank back beside her. Winning the Duck Race was obviously a case of ‘be care
ful what you wish for’.

  ‘Betsy!’ said Reverend Taylor. ‘Have you come to claim your prize?’

  ‘I have indeed,’ said Betsy. ‘I’m in desperate need of some help with my herbaceous borders.’ She gave Taffy a slow wink as she walked away with a flirty little wave, which just left him utterly confused, as though this might be yet another filthy euphemism that had passed him by.

  ‘Oh no, Dr Jones, rest easy,’ said Reverend Taylor, spotting his expression. ‘She really is a very keen gardener and has rather a thing for older gentlemen. Much older. Positively geriatric.’

  ‘I just don’t understand women at all, do I?’ said Taffy, wandering off grumpily in search of cider and predictable, uncomplicated male company.

  It was almost shocking how quickly the party descended into well-lubricated chaos. Dan, Jamie and Taffy had soon abandoned their ties and jackets and were entertaining children and dogs alike with their well-honed circus skills. What Jamie Yardley couldn’t do with a set of juggling balls, didn’t look worth knowing.

  Grace pressed another glass of fizz into Holly’s hand. ‘They’re just big kids really,’ she said. ‘It’s good to see them letting off steam.’

  Holly couldn’t agree more – the last few weeks seemed to have placed a strain on all of them.

  ‘Jamie’s rather lovely, isn’t he?’ said Holly, watching Grace’s reaction carefully and wondering whether he was the reason that Grace’s eyes were firmly fixed on the entertainment.

  Grace nodded, noncommittally. ‘He’s a sweet lad. And I keep telling young Alice – there’s nothing wrong with mixing business with a little pleasure, so long as you’re both on the same song-sheet.’

  ‘Alice and Jamie?’ Holly clarified.

  Grace smiled. ‘Well, not yet – but give it a little time . . .’

  Holly didn’t dare say any more. There was more chemistry in Elsie’s garden this evening than A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Holly could only hope that she didn’t end up as Bottom.