Snowed in at the Practice

by Penny Parkes

  For The Ginger Ninja

  my sanity-saving,

  cushion-stealing,

  Post-it-chobbling,

  sounding-board

  & perfect writing companion

  Always

  ‘When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change’

  DR WAYNE DYER

  Chapter 1

  Dr Holly Graham swirled the pancake batter onto the Aga hotplate with almost surgical precision; just another one of the imperceptible ways she was subconsciously keeping her eye in while on maternity leave. Taffy wrapped his arms around her waist and lovingly rested his chin on her shoulder. ‘Can I just have one really huge one?’ He paused, weighing up the likelihood of success. ‘With lots of chocolate chips?’

  Holly arranged a stack of perfect circles onto his plate and shook her head with a smile. ‘Keep dreaming, Taffs. We’re leading from the front, remember?’

  They both glanced over at the huge oak kitchen table, round and stocky, their four children marking out the four points of the wooden compass that had dictated virtually every moment of Holly’s universe for the last twelve months. Typically, Elsie had stationed herself between Lottie and Olivia, seemingly oblivious to the mangled rusks that now adorned her silk dressing gown, perfectly happy to spoon dollops of apple-sauce-swirled yoghurt into their willing mouths as she embraced her role as honorary ‘Grandmother’. Ben and Tom, on the other hand, their appetites growing as quickly as their gangly six-year-old legs, wanted none of it. They were holding out for pancakes – gazillions of pancakes, to be precise – with lashings of maple syrup.

  ‘Well, at least the maple syrup’s organic,’ offered Taffy, his own tendency towards mainlining junk food having been brutally curtailed in his quest to become a decent role model, and to stand a chance of fitting into his morning suit for the wedding.

  ‘Do top up my coffee, there’s a darling,’ said Elsie, having recently decided that life was just too short to drink camomile tea, whatever her consultant may say. As a result, the entire household had been cunningly and covertly switched to decaf and Holly’s mood was suffering a little as a result.

  ‘Anything good on the cards today?’ Holly asked Taffy, as she flipped over another batch of Scotch pancakes to top up the rapidly diminishing supply on the table. Her tone was almost wistful with enquiry; she was missing her patients and the cut and thrust of practice life far more than she was willing to concede. Of course, it didn’t help that they seemed to be coping so indecently well in her absence. All her offers to step in, help out, lend a hand, had been politely but pointedly declined by the team at The Practice.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Dan said. ‘Enjoy your babies,’ Alice said. ‘Make the most of your time off,’ they all repeated ad nauseam. Her grip tightened on the spatula at the very thought.

  Time off!

  Who were they kidding? Being at home with newborn twins had hardly been a picnic in the South of France.

  Throw in another set of twins, five years ahead, and bouncing with all the energy of Duracell bunnies, a timeshare labradoodle and an increasingly needy (and enormous) piglet and Holly’s slate was full. Speaking of which, Nineteen grunted at the French windows for his breakfast, still seemingly disgusted at no longer being allowed into the kitchen, on the sofas, basically wherever he pleased – but weighing nearly seventy pounds, Nineteen was no longer an adorable, snuffling piglet: he was a hog in all senses of the word. Every attempt to give him more room in the meadows nearby had resulted in him making a break for home. It was yet another thing on Holly’s mental To Do list that needed attention.

  Taffy swallowed his mouthful of pancake and took a slug of coffee for good measure, looking at his mug in confusion when it failed to deliver that morning boost he had come to rely on. ‘Not much on today, really. Same old, same old.’

  Holly sighed, realising he had no idea how appealing the notion of ‘same old’ was to her right now. Not that she hadn’t adored this special time with her babies – and they were an absolute delight – she just sometimes felt as though her brain was turning to Play-Doh and her conversation to mindless jibber-jabber. Thank heavens for Elsie’s ongoing vacillation about her living arrangements. Although duly installed at Sarandon Hall – the retirement destination for the blue of blood and heavy of wallet – she still seemed to spend most of her days, and quite a few of her nights, here at Number 42 being generally eccentric and inspiring. Although once Elsie’s own family home, ensuring that Holly’s growing brood could now call it their home had been one of the greatest acts of generosity that Holly had ever witnessed. Spending the first few weeks of Olivia and Lottie’s lives quite literally holding Holly’s hand, as Taffy had been subsumed gradually back into work, had been another. From where Holly was standing, Elsie’s presence was a reassuring constant she’d be lost without.

  ‘Tell me,’ Holly said. ‘How’s the Major doing? Is Alice coping with her new clinic hours with Coco? What happened about Pru’s mammogram in the end?’ She wasn’t so much firing questions at him, as machine-gunning them into the room, the way Ben and Tom did when they were on a mission for information, snackage or attention.

  Taffy just nodded. ‘It’s all good. Hey, haven’t the boys got a concert rehearsal this afternoon?’

  Holly swallowed her frustration, along with a bite of pancake. At this rate, she’d be the size of a house before she found her balance. She nodded. ‘Dress rehearsal today, boys,’ she reminded them.

  Ben and Tom looked at each other and scowled, perfect mirror images of disgruntlement. ‘I hate stupid Guy Fawkes,’ Tom said firmly, always the more outspoken of the twins, ‘and this stupid concert.’

  ‘I hate my costume and Tarquin is a big meany,’ Ben continued. ‘He keeps tripping me up when we do our stupid song.’

  Holly frowned. She’d initially been quite on board with the new head teacher’s plan to add a performance by the primary school pupils to their traditional Larkford Bonfire Night festivities, until that is, she’d realised the commitment required to persuade twenty-eight children, each seemingly with two left feet, into their costumes and into the limelight without anyone being trampled, roasted or embarrassed to death. Even accounting for the little sod that was Tarquin Holland and his painfully right-on mother, Cassie, these Guy Fawkes preparations had quickly become a labour of love for all the parents of Larkford Primary. Of course, for some, the love had been somewhat enhanced by the very presence of said new head teacher. Mr Alec French had certainly swayed the pyjamas-to-mascara ratio on the school run in the opposite direction since his arrival.

  The front door swung open and Alice and Coco barrelled through the parquet hallway and into the kitchen. Since her boyfriend Jamie had taken a temporary work placement in Ireland, it had become Alice’s custom en route to The Practice, to call in at Holly’s for the first coffee of the day – Elsie’s kitchen providing the central focus for most of their socialising these days. At times, Alice seemed quite lost without him, and Holly was only too delighted to provide company, coffee and distraction, in exchange for a little update now and then.

  ‘Morning! I hope you haven’t eaten already – I picked up Danish pastries,’ said Alice chirpily, her assistance dog Coco at her feet, as she carefully hung up her beautiful velvet coat. No longer one to keep things for best, she was a close contender with Elsie for the role of Larkford’s style icon these days. Not that Elsie seemed to mind.

  ‘I hope one of those pastries has my name on it!’ Elsie said, deliberately ignoring the look that passed between Holly and Taffy. ‘I’m in need of decadence today. All this puréed fruit is giving me a glimpse into my future and I’m not sure I like it.’

  Holly noticed t
hat Taffy, Ben and Tom had quickly squirrelled away all evidence of their pancake extravaganza and were holding out their plates expectantly. Seriously, thought Holly, it was like feeding an army in this kitchen most days.

  Needless to say, Alice had thoughtfully picked out a dairy-free offering for Ben and soon contented yummy noises filled the room, to the accompaniment of Olivia banging her fists on her high chair in excitement at the sliver of buttery goodness heading her way.

  ‘Stick the radio on,’ said Alice, as she poured coffee for everyone, and Holly handed out orange juice in a tried and tested manoeuvre of choreography. ‘Lizzie had me in stitches just now. She’s on cracking form, have you noticed?’

  Holly had in fact noticed that giving her best friend, Lizzie, ready access to a microphone and a Nespresso machine had been a masterstroke in her recovery from anxiety, not to mention with all three of her children now being at school, Lizzie was indeed generally on the up. It was fair to say that, in their small community, the ‘anonymous’ part of Lizzie’s Agony Aunt phone-in show on Radio Larkford was really anything but. Nevertheless, Lizzie’s advice was often on message, despite being off the cuff, and generally hilarious in its bluntness.

  ‘All I’m saying,’ came the emotional tones of today’s unwitting caller across the airwaves, ‘is that I’d just like a small break from my children climbing all over me, before my husband starts, you know?’

  Holly and Alice both snorted their coffee across the table as they burst out laughing, recognising only too clearly the voice of Hattie from The Deli in town. Taffy merely looked perplexed.

  ‘But, surely it’s nice that he still fancies her—’ began Taffy, unwittingly stepping into a barrage of abuse from the women at the table.

  Lizzie clearly had no scruples when it came to telling it like it is, even when on the airwaves. ‘You’re not a cappuccino machine,’ she said with feeling. ‘He can hardly expect you to be on the go with kids and The D— I mean, with work all day and then get hot and steamy at the flick of a switch.’

  Taffy swallowed his laughter in a moment, when he saw how intently his beloved was listening to the answer. Holly offered him a watery smile in reassurance, but Lizzie was on a roll.

  ‘Seriously, any new dads out there feeling all hard done by because they’re not getting much duvet action need to take a long hard look at themselves. You can’t be Mary Poppins one minute and Jessica Rabbit the next. Your wives may be mothers now, but that doesn’t mean you should stop wooing them. When’s the last time you ran them a bath, or cooked them supper? Maybe looked after your kids for a bit so they could regroup? Hat—, I mean, our caller has a point – there needs to be a transition from mother to partner and you guys need to make that happen!’ She spoke with feeling and gusto and Holly laid odds that there were women all over Larkford cheering her on, not to mention husbands curling their toes. ‘Ask them what they want! And now here’s Journey with a little reminder.’ As the lyrics of ‘Any Way You Want It’ blasted out around the kitchen there was an uncomfortable silence for a moment.

  Ben looked around the table in consternation. ‘Aunty Lizzie gives weird advice on the radio. If they like climbing so much, she should just tell them to buy a climbing frame—’

  Alice excused herself from the table as orange juice spurted from her nose and Holly held her sides laughing.

  ‘Out of the mouths of babes,’ said Elsie drily, as her magpie attention was caught by Alice’s vintage necklace, as she passed around handfuls of napkins to deal with the problem.

  Taffy took Holly’s hand as she went to stand up and clear the table. ‘Tell me what you want,’ he whispered with a smile, taking Lizzie’s advice to heart.

  Holly’s eyes flashed at the possibilities. ‘Anything?’

  Taffy smiled wolfishly. ‘Anything at all.’

  She sat back down beside him and kissed him. ‘Can I take your diabetes clinic today? You could stay with the girls?’

  Taffy laughed. ‘Oh, Holls, you’re so funny.’ He stood up and dropped a kiss on top of her head. ‘Think about it, though, I’m serious. Dinner? A spa day with Lizzie maybe? Whatever you need, just say.’ He kissed Olivia and Lottie, somehow escaping their outstretched sticky grasp, and chivvied the boys to get their school shoes on.

  Holly mutely watched as he turned away, momentarily speechless. ‘But I just did say,’ she managed, only for her words to be drowned out by the chaos of locating last-minute school clobber and performance paraphernalia.

  She bent down to kiss both the boys as they swung their arms around her thighs and to check their faces were free of maple syrup. She couldn’t quite face a ‘friendly chat’ on the tiny chairs from the glorious Mr French just yet. It would surely be better to meet him properly before her first official dressing-down.

  ‘I’d best be off too,’ said Alice, as everyone realised the time and hustled together. Even Elsie wandered through into the hall to prepare for her morning ahead. Another class with the Silver Swans, no doubt, reliving her misspent youth at the barre and brushing up her pliés.

  In fact, in less than three minutes, Holly’s kitchen went from being a hive of sociable activity to the front door swinging quietly shut behind them with a dull whumpf.

  She turned to the girls, their hands outstretched and their faces smothered with sticky pastry crumbs. ‘Well,’ she said after a moment, mustering a cheery smile, ‘as I’m obviously not playing doctor today, you two are going to be my partners in crime, okay?’ She kissed their foreheads adoringly. ‘Now, what do you two little poppets want to do this morning?’

  Chapter 2

  Holly glanced down at her vibrating mobile as she attempted to insert a reluctant Olivia into the pushchair. Three missed calls, all from the same number. She ignored them, as Olivia arched her back grumpily and made a bid for freedom.

  There was only so much pep that a person could take at this time of the morning and Patricia, her return-to-work coordinator from the local Commissioning Group was just two degrees south of a California cheerleader – not to be taken without prior preparation, to wit, a glass of wine in hand.

  Holly allowed the voicemail to play out loud, as she looked around her at the scene of devastation from simply getting all three of them washed, dressed and ready for Toddler Tambourine. Getting back to work was clearly going to require a lot more organisation and even less sleep!

  ‘Go-ood morning,’ trilled Patricia, with approximately two hundred per cent too much gusto for this hour on a Monday morning. Voicemail had definitely been the right call. ‘It’s Patricia calling again. I just need a moment of your time to discuss your return-to-work strategy, Dr Graham. We’ve some lovely workshops coming up for our ladies wishing to return to General Practice and I thought of you.’

  Holly took a deep breath, trying not to rise at the incredibly patronising, not to mention sexist, tone that young Patricia always chose to adopt. She was sick of explaining that a year’s maternity leave hardly qualified as a ‘career break’. Holly truly felt that shadowing someone for a fortnight to remind her what to do in her own practice was taking the mickey. A simple concept that seemed to elude her nominated case-worker.

  ‘So,’ continued Patricia, ‘if you’d like to call me back, I can talk you through the Return to Work Protocol again.’ She paused, the doubt at Holly’s willingness to comply almost voluble down the line. ‘You will need to comply with the four steps, as we discussed before, Dr Graham. I’m only here to help and it’s my job to guide you through, one step at a time. No need to over-face ourselves. So, well, call me back.’

  Patricia seemed to subscribe to the notion that an upbeat, positive attitude may not solve all of life’s problems, but it would annoy enough people along the way to make it worth the effort.

  Holly couldn’t help a small smile of satisfaction that Patricia’s bounce had considerably less amplitude by the end of the message. Bureaucracy was such a farce sometimes.

  Lottie began to whimper and, like dominoes, Olivia swif
tly followed suit. Holly sighed, knowing that there were hoops she needed to jump through and ignoring them was seemingly no longer an option. But it made more sense, to her at least, to get her familial ducks in a row first.

  Holly offered Lottie a conciliatory teething cracker to gnaw on, rather than her sister’s outstretched fingers, and for a moment there was silence. Poor Patricia was only doing her job – she did realise that – but surely, as an experienced doctor Holly could be trusted to look four steps ahead without throwing in the towel?

  ‘Knock, knock, coo-ee!’ called Lizzie, opening the front door and letting herself in. ‘I must seriously love you, Holly Graham. I’ve barely got my own kids off to school and you’re making me endure bloody Toddler Tambourine all over again!’ She grinned to show that she was joking but there was a certain amount of truth in her words. She scooped Lottie up into her arms and covered her with kisses. ‘Who’s ready to go and sing some songs,’ she said, before turning to Holly with a smile, ‘and then who’ll be ready to go and drink some gin?’ she continued with the same upbeat sing-song delivery.

  Holly burst out laughing as Olivia clapped her approval at this plan of action. ‘I seriously owe you one for this, Lizzie. It’s almost impossible to do these classes with only one pair of hands. God knows what it will be like when they start running everywhere.’

  Lizzie blew a raspberry on Lottie’s tummy. ‘Well, hopefully you’ll have a nanny all sorted by then and you can have a little balance between work and home. I’m still reeling that it’s actually cheaper to have a proper nanny than pay four sets of childcare fees. That has to focus the mind a little.’

  Holly nodded, feeling oddly choked up at Lizzie’s instinctive understanding of her situation – no judgement, no comment – it was obvious that she’d already walked several miles in her shoes.

  ‘Any progress on that front?’ Lizzie asked, as they made their way through the streets of Larkford, the autumn sunshine lambent across the Market Place, picking out the pastel-fronted buildings and giving Holly just the boost she needed.