Snowed in at the Practice Read online

  Whether Tilly could actually see how much the shadows of the past affected the decisions of her present was anyone’s guess, thought Alice, wishing that she could find a way to get through to her lovely friend. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel the need to control every aspect of her dating life – or indeed give herself quite so freely and without thought of her value or worth. Only her work seemed to give her the emotional reward that she clearly craved, no doubt explaining why she sought out war zones and humanitarian crises, where other girls, other women, were helpless in the face of their situation. As a recovery plan it had held merit – initially at least – but all these years later, Alice couldn’t help but wonder whether she’d let her friend down by not facing the issue head on.

  ‘Walker. Stop it. I can tell where your mind has wandered off to.’ Tilly raised one eyebrow and gave her a stern look. ‘It’s my favourite weather – sunny and cold – and the forecast says it’s not going to last. Plus, I don’t have to watch you and Jamie play love’s young dream, not to mention that nobody has dropped dead overnight to the best of my knowledge. That’s three for three, so let’s just enjoy the morning, okay?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Alice. ‘But I do think we were on to something with the dog idea. Might make you more approachable, more country, if you had a dog trotting along at your heels. You know, rather than slightly terrifying and aloof?’

  Tilly nodded. ‘You probably have a point. I mean, even that chap from The Hive that you all get so giddy about, looks more down to earth with all those yappity dogs swinging on a lead. Although I would never have pegged him as a little yappy dog lover. Just goes to show. You have to pick the right breed.’

  Alice glanced at her appraisingly. ‘I reckon a retired greyhound would suit you down to the ground: you’re both quite highly strung – don’t deny it – you like a nice long run, and you’d both be a little bit needy without wanting to admit it.’ Her face lit up. ‘Come on – there’s no time like the present. Let’s go and see Aurelia and Ariadne Adams – you’ll love them. Mad spinster sisters who run their own animal sanctuary. Proper characters, but you’ll have to be careful: sometimes you don’t come away with what you went for. They reckon they have the gift of pairing up their animals with people’s personalities.’ She frowned. ‘That’s how Pru Hartley ended up with a pair of chinchillas.’

  Tilly snorted with laughter; it was only too easy to see how Pru’s rather chubby cheeks and unfortunate overbite might have been somewhat suggestible in that pairing. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she temporised. ‘And anyway, if I was going to get a dog, I always quite fancied a springer spaniel.’

  Alice considered it for a moment, her gaze catching on poor Matthew Giles across the Market Place, his eyes still adoringly following Tilly’s every move. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t get a spaniel,’ she said, giving her friend a gentle nudge and nodding in Matthew’s direction. ‘It looks like you already have one of those.’

  Chapter 14

  Holly hovered uncertainly in the doorway to the kitchen, pretending to check the messages on her phone. She noticed with wry amusement that Elsie was pretending to read Entertainment Weekly on the sofa in the corner, having failed to turn the page for at least ten minutes.

  Plum, however, was so focused on her new charges that she appeared to be oblivious to all surveillance; either that or she was pointedly, perhaps kindly, ignoring their clumsy attempts to keep tabs on her.

  First days were tricky.

  Not just for Plum, but for the rest of the family too.

  She had arrived in their midst last night in a cloud of Rive Gauche and with a set of Louis Vuitton luggage that had even given Elsie pause. There was no doubting that Plum Castigliano was hardly the archetypal Cotswold nanny. On the other hand, in Holly’s opinion, that was part of her innate appeal. Who needed a dour presence of conscientiousness in their home, when Holly’s subliminal judgements of her own performance as a mother already had that covered?

  ‘Allora,’ said Plum, wiping the girls’ sticky, post-breakfast faces with swift efficiency. ‘It rains, but we go and explore the park today, yes? You can show me the . . . scoiattoli? How you say, skwizzels?’

  ‘Squirrels,’ smiled Holly, wandering into the kitchen as though she hadn’t been lurking with intent. ‘Are you heading out?’

  ‘Si, yes, I mean. I am thinking in England that if we wait for a day without rain, then we are never going,’ Plum said cheerfully, clearly unfazed by the prospect of some drizzle.

  ‘I might come with you? Show you the sights, as it were?’ Holly said, finding it harder to let go than she had imagined. This time round it was just different: yes, there were Ben and Tom to think about, not to mention their ever-depleting bank accounts, but this time, it felt like a choice to return to work, not a necessity. A small recalibration, it was true, but a world of difference in how Holly felt about the whole thing.

  She watched as Plum set off upstairs to get the girls ready for their outing, efficient, affectionate and fun. Holly could only hope she didn’t turn out to be too good to be true.

  Standing alone in her kitchen for the first time in what felt like for ever, Holly breathed out slowly. How long, she wondered, would it take before she felt like herself again? It wasn’t just a question of her body-image, of feeling at home in her own skin, although she often wondered whether it would have been more efficient to have simply been fitted with a zip! Four babies through the same sunroof? Okay, they were in two batches but still . . . Her stomach would never, ever be the same again, no matter how many Pilates classes she went to.

  No, Holly’s deeper concerns lay with how to balance her personal and professional selves – they had to fit together or she’d go quietly crazy. Likewise, the lines of demarcation in her marriage had been abruptly redrawn and she wasn’t convinced she liked it: Taffy was at work, and she was holding the fort at home; there was never any question as to who would deal with the domestic side of their life anymore. It was like living in the 1970s. She eyed Taffy’s breakfast dishes abandoned on the kitchen table with disdain. He would never have dreamed of just automatically leaving these chores to her last year. Last year, they were a well-oiled two-career, two-children machine. True, his reputation as the worst present buyer in Larkford had been repeatedly confirmed, but she could always, always reassure herself that the thought was there. This Christmas, that thoughtfulness seemed a more important litmus test than ever.

  ‘Surprise,’ said Taffy, bursting into the kitchen slightly out of puff. ‘Boys are fine, don’t worry,’ he said, in response to the surprised expression on her face. ‘I just popped back before work because I forgot to give you this.’

  Holly’s entire demeanour softened; it was a long-running joke between the two of them, for when they were rushed off their feet and hadn’t had time for a proper goodbye. She stepped forward with a smile, ready to step into his arms for a proper kiss. Now this, she could get used to.

  ‘Here you go,’ said Taffy, tapping her lightly on the bottom with one hand as he passed her his dry-cleaning collection ticket with the other. ‘Since you’ve got, and I quote “The world’s best nanny” on hand, I thought you might be at a loose end and—’

  He stopped, frowning in confusion at the expression on his wife’s previously smiling face. ‘What? I’ve got to work.’

  Holly took a deep breath. ‘And I’m helping Plum settle in, getting the car serviced, cleaning up after your breakfast – apparently – not to mention jumping through endless bureaucratic hoops with Patronising Patricia so that I too, can get back to work.’

  If the tone of her ‘apparently’ hadn’t tipped off Taffy that he was on thin ice, then there was really no helping him, Holly decided. Lizzie had a point: it wasn’t the big stuff that wore you down, it was the gradual erosion of affection with 1001 mindless tasks that made up running a family and a household. Of course, she could pick up his dry-cleaning. But that was hardly the point, now was it?

  Taffy blundered on, oblivious, it seemed.
‘Well, there’s no rush, is there? I thought Plum was here on trial? Take some time, enjoy the break. Isn’t that the point of having her?’

  All Holly’s good intentions flew out of the window in her frustration at not being heard. ‘Actually,’ she said tightly, ‘I thought finding someone lovely to take care of our children, so that I can return to my job – a job I happen to excel at – was the point.’

  She walked out of the kitchen, not trusting herself to say more.

  ‘I’ll just leave the ticket here, then, shall I?’ Taffy called after her.

  It was the first time in Holly’s life that she’d seen the point in taking GCSE Geography. An understanding of erosion suddenly seemed a lot more pertinent to adult life than she’d ever realised.

  And maybe all that stuff about Darwin had been fairly spot-on too; she genuinely felt as though her life were a case of ‘adapt or die’ these days. If only, she thought, she could be a little more adaptable, without a whole heap of resentment creeping in.

  *

  Half an hour later, deep breaths taken, it was still taking every ounce of strength for her to stand by as Plum persuaded the girls into their onesie-suits and affixed the rain shield to the pram. Passing on little tricks and foibles she’d adopted over the last few months would doubtless make life easier for Plum, but would also stop Plum finding her own way, forming her own relationship with the girls that was separate from Holly’s. It was a tricky line to walk.

  Her reserve failed her. ‘Oh, Plum, I should have said, Olivia hates the rain cover, so it’s easier not to close it fully until you’re outside.’

  ‘Of course,’ replied Plum, easily, completely unfazed. ‘Also, Holly, I noticed Lottie wasn’t so keen on her breakfast this morning. Does she have a different appetite to her sister perhaps?’

  Holly smiled, and then spent the next ten minutes and the entire soggy walk through the Market Place filling Plum in on their individual likes and dislikes, all thoughts of taking a step back forgotten in the joy of sharing these tiny nuances with an attentive audience.

  As the icy rain ratcheted up a notch, Holly gestured towards the warmth and comfort of The Deli. Both girls were asleep in the pram and it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss to get to know Plum a little better. ‘Coffee?’ she suggested.

  Plum leaned against her shoulder fleetingly and smiled. ‘You read my mind.’

  Inside, the windows were steamed up and the contrast from the crisp, bright sunshine over the weekend could not have been more obvious. Autumn had clearly packed her bags. Holly savoured the aroma of espresso beans and warming pastries as she took off her coat, intrigued to see how everyone in her life was going to react to Plum. Certainly if her own husband’s response was anything to go by, there would always be some measure of abject disbelief that Holly had knowingly, deliberately invited this goddess into their midst. Hattie, reliably, was the first to come and say hello.

  ‘Hi, I’m Hattie. You must be Plum,’ she said in a flurry of embarrassed words, attempting not to stare blatantly at this Nigella Lawson-style goddess in their midst.

  Plum smiled. ‘Your coffee smells amazing, Hattie. It’s wonderful to meet you.’ They shook hands and once again, Holly noticed how tactile Plum was – nothing handsy, or over-stated, just an easy familiarity and comfort in her own skin that Holly rather admired. Was it simply being Italian, Holly wondered, in which case there was little hope for her. Hattie gave Holly a grin and scooted off to make their coffees.

  Plum reached over and swept Holly’s damp ponytail from her collar. ‘You are giving yourself a chill, Holly. Here, take my scarf until you dry out.’ She folded her soft cashmere square and looped it around Holly’s neck, before turning to concertina the rain shield back against itself so the girls could slumber peacefully in the coffee-scented respite of The Deli.

  ‘So,’ Plum said, after a few moments, waiting until Hattie had placed two steaming espressos in front of them. ‘What are you going to do today, Holly? I am thinking a little treat is in order, no? A massage perhaps, or just a siesta? You are to be making the most of me now I am here. Soon enough you will be with your patients, but these few days are as much for you to acclimatare, as for me.’

  ‘Acclimatise?’ Holly suggested, with a smile, sipping at her coffee and feeling her shoulders drop fractionally lower with every moment in Plum’s company. Somehow Plum making the same suggestion as Taffy was entirely more palatable, hypocrite that she was.

  ‘Si, certo,’ smiled Plum, closing her eyes and breathing in the softly scented aroma of cinnamon in the air. She paused and glanced over at Holly, leaning forward in her chair. ‘I am wanting to be happy here in Larkford, Holly. So I am asking, please, for you to be telling me what you would like. I am here to help with your family, your way. I see you holding back a little this morning, not wanting to tell me my job and it is not necessary. They are your children, Holly. Only mine to borrow for a little while. I am wanting to be a part of your team.’ She reached across and squeezed Holly’s hand, never once dropping her gaze.

  Holly swallowed. There was no doubt that she liked everything she was hearing, it was just that – well, how entirely comfortable would she feel if it were Taffy on the receiving end of Plum’s intense contemplation?

  Her own insecurities seemed to be blooming whether she liked them or not. Elsie – normally a font of all wisdom and interference had gone AWOL – no doubt back at Sarandon Hall fleecing everyone at poker, or perhaps romancing the noisy bastard with the sledgehammer next door, since he’d apparently taken a sabbatical from assaulting their eardrums.

  She exhaled sharply, annoyed with herself for sounding more and more like a grumpy old git. She seriously needed to get back to work.

  ‘Dr Graham? Do you have a moment?’

  It took a second or two for Holly to recalibrate. Daphne Porter’s worried face swam into focus, bending down beside her.

  ‘I’m truly sorry to interrupt your coffee, but I would so welcome a few minutes of your time.’

  With the girls fast asleep and Plum happily flicking through Hattie’s menu, Holly felt comfortable slipping away, dare she say it, even a little relieved to feel needed. After all, she told herself, she was only at the next table.

  The relief on Daphne’s face told Holly this was not something she asked lightly. ‘I’ve just come from The Practice actually, and please, please don’t think I’m being ungrateful – after all, they fitted me in for an emergency appointment . . . I’m just not sure that Dr Campbell actually heard what I was saying, you know, really understood the issue.’

  Holly nodded, realising she was navigating tricky waters. ‘I’m sure Dr Campbell was thorough, but there’s never any harm in talking these things through. If you don’t mind telling me? Unofficially?’

  Daphne nodded. ‘It’s not me, you see, it’s my daughter, Hannah. She’s at the Sixth Form College now.’

  ‘My goodness, she’s doing her A-levels already,’ Holly realised. You turned your back for five minutes, it seemed, and your patients turned into mini-adults overnight.

  ‘She’s not well, Dr Graham. She’s just—’ Daphne swallowed hard. ‘It’s not that she’s not happy; she’s withdrawn, though. Different. Like I can’t reach her and, I know it sounds a little lame, but there has to be something to a mother’s intuition, doesn’t there? And I really thought that when she started that acne treatment, she’d feel better, you know? No more tears, looking in the mirror at least? But . . .’ She shrugged and held up her hands helplessly.

  Holly nodded. ‘I think you have to trust your gut. Just because Hannah isn’t sharing her worries, doesn’t mean she doesn’t have any. Does she have a best friend, someone she can confide in?’

  ‘That’s what I’m saying, Dr Graham. She’s withdrawn from everyone, not just me. She’s on her own all the time at college, I’m told, and she shuts herself away in her bedroom at home. I think she’s online a lot, but it’s like a shutter has come down and Hannah’s not there anymore.�
�� She sniffed. ‘Her beautiful eyes, Dr Graham – it’s like nobody’s home.’

  Holly put her arm around Daphne’s shoulders and allowed her to sob against her shoulder, wondering how Tilly could have let Daphne go home without a plan of action but unwilling to undermine her colleague in absentia. Problems with Hannah aside, it was obvious that Daphne wasn’t coping. She thought about the wonderful relationship that Daphne and Hannah had always shared, friends as well as family. Something was obviously seriously awry and blaming it on ‘typical teenage behaviour’ wasn’t helping anyone.

  ‘Daphne, what’s Hannah taking for her acne?’ Holly wondered aloud, as she ran scenarios in her mind.

  Daphne looked up. ‘It’s a special formulation, I think. Potent stuff. But then, her poor skin was so bad . . .’ She paused, her brow furrowed in concentration. ‘I can check the name and let you know?’

  Holly nodded. ‘That would be helpful. I just want to cover all bases, you know? Now, in the meantime, can I make some suggestions about a few things that might help?’

  *

  Watching Daphne leave twenty minutes later, with a sense of purpose, if not a smile, Holly couldn’t help feeling grateful that she’d found herself in The Deli that morning. It almost felt as though she were more use to her patients as their friend than their GP sometimes. A little answer to her prayer to be both mother and doctor. And at least this way she could give them a hug and a little more time. Although it worried her no end, that someone younger, someone less familiar with the nuances of mental health issues might simply have fobbed Daphne off. She wasn’t pointing fingers at Tilly exactly, just making a note to herself that this was something that needed to change.

  She looked up as Hattie greeted another gaggle of sodden customers, relieved that the twins were slumbering peacefully on and giving her a little chance just to chat with Plum – no interview questions, just easy conversation, and yet giving her so much more insight into their new team-member. And there was something about Plum’s sudden politeness when she spoke of her previous employer that somehow felt off.