Snowed in at the Practice

by Penny Parkes

  ‘She slept right through last night,’ Holly said. ‘I think she’s settling, but she was really weird around Elsie. Maybe on some level, her grandmother has left more of a scar than we’d realised.’

  Dan frowned. ‘Old people upset her?’

  ‘Maybe? Luckily Elsie’s been too distracted to notice the last few days. She’s busy causing mischief elsewhere.’ She stopped, not quite sure of whether Elsie’s secret was truly out. When she’d phoned home earlier, Elsie had still been in bed, sleeping off her evening with Connor.

  ‘It could just be that five children is beyond her tolerance,’ Dan suggested. ‘We need to make a plan. Lulu can’t stay with you for ever and it doesn’t look like she’s going home any time soon,’ he continued, all his animosity about the job having completely dissolved into empathy and affection. ‘I’ll make a few calls later and get an idea of options for her, shall I?’

  Holly nodded, resting a hand on his arm. ‘But, Dan, don’t rush this. She’s happy at ours and Keira’s happy knowing where she is.’

  ‘And what about you? And Taffy?’

  ‘We’re fine. Honestly. What’s a little more chaos? See you later, maybe?’ Holly checked her watch and left Dan standing in the corridor, thoughtfully distracted. To Holly’s mind, it was a toss-up whether he was thinking about Lulu Fowler or Bath Rugby, but either way, she wondered whether Grace deserved a heads up that big changes were on their horizon.

  *

  Only two hours later and Holly finally felt the tension in her shoulders give. She sat next to Plum on a bench in the parkland behind the church, bundled up in her down-filled coat, one hand automatically rocking the double pram, where Olivia and Lottie slumbered peacefully through their siesta. Ben and Tom ran loop after loop in between the ancient horse chestnut trees, making tracks and hurling snowballs, and Lulu, ensconced in a padded ‘Eskimo’ snowsuit, had plonked herself down in the snow, working her arms and legs to make smudgy snow angels and chortling with delight. Every now and then she’d thrust pudgy fistfuls of snow towards her open mouth and Holly or Plum would need to leap forward to intervene. She was so content in her game, though, that only a gentle distraction was required. To Holly’s mind, this little girl had probably had a lifetime of upset already; Holly and Plum had already agreed that loving guidance was the only way forward from here, warm baths and hot chocolate on the horizon to deal with any chill.

  Holly was actually a little grateful that Lizzie was in a self-imposed purdah-of-grump today. She really didn’t have the emotional reserves to cope with Lizzie’s post-operative boredom and mood-swings, no matter how selfish a friend that made her feel. And Plum was surprisingly easy and enjoyable company, as though she instinctively knew when to speak up and when just to be still, in the moment.

  Holly tilted her head back and let the sunshine warm her face – another thing she had come to take for granted, she realised. Her fresh-air addiction being not quite so welcome at The Practice, her patients quite rightly objecting to her windows being thrown open wide at every opportunity.

  Holly looked around in surprise as a gentle whinny echoed around the parkland. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight that greeted her: Charlotte, the Major and Jess walked towards them, Banana the miniature horse rugged up and trotting happily at Jess’s side.

  ‘Afternoon, ladies,’ said the Major, bending at the waist and doffing his flat cap, as was his wont.

  Jess bounded over to say hello to Lulu, sitting down cross-legged in the snow beside her. ‘Hello, I’m Jess. Do you want to make a little snow dog with me?’

  That in itself was remarkable enough, Jess’s introversion since the accident having been of almost clinical concern not that long ago. But what took Holly’s breath away was Lulu’s reaction to Banana – or was it vice versa? Clearly the tiny palomino had more empathy than most humans Lulu had encountered in her short life. Banana wormed his way between Jess and Lulu, snuffling their hands gently and whickering as they balled up snow, patting it into shape to create their sculpture, occasionally nudging Jess for attention, before laying his tufty head on Lulu’s shoulder. Her eyes went wide for a moment in surprise, before the most beautiful volley of giggles erupted and she buried her tiny hands gleefully in Banana’s mane.

  Holly swallowed hard, tears that had been far too close to the surface all morning making themselves known. She glanced over at Plum, Charlotte and the Major, reassured that she wasn’t alone.

  ‘Would you look at that,’ said Charlotte. ‘Isn’t he a charmer?’

  Holly nodded. Charming, of course, but more than that, Banana appeared to have some kind of healing energy that brought out the very best in those who had been traumatised.

  ‘Any progress on finding a school for Jess?’ Holly asked, her eyes now firmly fixed on the adorable equine tableau in front of her, any thoughts of snow dogs forgotten as the girls made a willing Banana the focus of their game.

  Charlotte sat down on the bench beside her. ‘Not so far. Lavinia’s holding out for a boarding school place, apparently.’ There was a wealth of feeling in those last four syllables.

  Lavinia didn’t work, they had a live-in housekeeper, and space wasn’t an issue, yet she was still determined to send her only child away to school. She was somehow convinced that it was the only way for Jess to have a decent education, or indeed ‘friends worth having’. Her snobbery was in danger of damaging her daughter’s long-term recovery from her traumatic brain injury, but nobody had been able to get through to her. Least of all Jess.

  ‘I can’t bear to think of them being separated,’ whispered Charlotte, ‘not when Banana seems to help in so many ways. Did you know she hasn’t had a single panic attack since they’ve been together?’

  ‘I didn’t, no,’ said Holly, finding it only too easy to believe. The bond between Jess and Banana was almost tangible in its strength. The way Jess was now plaiting his tousled mane was just adorable, as was the clumsy ham-fisted way that Lulu attempted to copy her every move. ‘Any luck talking to Mr French?’

  Charlotte shook her head. ‘There’s not a lot he can do, if Lavinia won’t put Jess down on the state school placement register. He seemed open to the concept at least, but even he would have to jump through all sorts of health and safety hoops.’

  Holly nodded. ‘If you want my honest opinion, the best thing we can possibly do is get Banana officially registered as a support animal. At that point, at least, there are legal precedents to follow.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t suppose you know whether Lavinia had a change of heart about applying for Jess’s disability status, do you?’

  The Major harrumphed angrily at the very question. ‘Daft woman says it would be too demeaning and they don’t need the money. Doesn’t seem to realise that it’s about more than cash; it’s about getting Jess access to the support she needs. She could give the bloody money back if it irked her so, but at least Jess could access some of the services she’s going to need.’ Peregrine Waverly was the biggest surprise to Holly of late; his emotional investment in Jess’s recovery may have started from a position of guilt, but he now treated her like the granddaughter he’d never had. His time in the armed forces clearly gave him a good idea about what was ahead for Jess, as she struggled to find her new normal with her diminished capacities.

  ‘I’ll give Jamie Yardley a ring later, although he’s coming over for the Christening next week. We can quiz him some more then,’ Holly said. ‘Let’s find out how we make Mr Banana official?’

  Banana looked up at the very mention of his name and a cascade of snow crystals fell from his forelock. Holly slowly breathed out, enjoying the fact that she could still apparently help her patients and spend time with her own children at the same time. It took her a moment to realise she had inadvertently included Lulu in that moniker without a second thought.

  *

  Holly stood in the doorway later that afternoon, watching Elsie, Ben, Tom and Lulu engrossed in a Pixar movie and wondered if she were having a midlife crisi
s. Her in-at-the-deep-end return to work had somehow succeeded (where all manner of soul-searching had failed) when it came to pinpointing the very essence of what had attracted her to the notion of private practice – the opportunity to practise medicine the way she instinctively wanted to: without an enormous ten-minute hourglass hovering over her head throughout every appointment.

  She’d also considered the possibility of fostering Lulu fulltime and the effect on their family dynamic if Lulu happened to have her own Banana-equivalent support animal to aid her recovery and transition.

  In one of her patients, she would have put this erratic behaviour down to an over-burdened mind and a subconscious cry for help. But right now, it all seemed perfectly logical to her.

  Something, somewhere would have to give, for her to be the doctor she wanted to be, the doctor her newly vulnerable state demanded she be.

  Elsie looked over and smiled warmly, and Holly was touched to see her making an effort to build a rapport with Lulu, even if a small part of her suspected that Elsie was conveniently delaying the conversational elephant in the room. Holly was dying to have a nosey next door, but in all honesty, not quite as much as she was to hear all about the self-managed scandal that had dictated its necessity.

  Holly looked up as the front door opened, Taffy tiredly managing a smile. ‘We have company,’ he said.

  Grace and Dan hovered on the doorstep behind him. ‘I hope we’re not intruding?’ Dan asked, his hand clasping Grace’s tightly.

  ‘No, no, come in. I’ll get the kettle on,’ Holly said easily, as Taffy leaned in to give her a kiss in greeting.

  ‘I know you said you were missing the team, but there doesn’t actually seem to be much opportunity to really miss them, does there?’ He pulled her into a hug. ‘Now, how did it all go this morning? Are we seriously putting the kettle on, or is this the perfect excuse to sample my special cider?’

  Dan shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the staircase finial. ‘Did someone say cider?’

  Holly smiled. ‘Come and see this. It will lift your spirits far more than Taffy’s dodgy homebrew.’

  ‘Hey, I was merely making sure that all the apples in Larkford didn’t go to waste. Nobody else was picking them—’

  ‘Shh,’ said Holly, beckoning him over to join them in the doorway.

  Tom, Ben and Lulu were all schlumpfed together in a pile of arms and legs, their heads leaning against one another as they watched Toy Story, transfixed.

  ‘Oh,’ said Grace. ‘Oh, but she is just beautiful.’ Further words seemed to elude her but the look on Dan’s face was all too telling. As was the way Dan and Grace’s hands were entwined, a conversation taking place in the touch of their fingers.

  Holly had to swallow hard, her emotions altogether too close to the surface these days. Was this what her rambling subconscious had been trying to tell her? To keep Lulu in their lives, did she necessarily have to live at Number 42?

  ‘Has she spoken again?’ Dan asked quietly, but Holly shook her head.

  ‘We have had giggles though. Apparently Banana the miniature horse just has it.’

  Lulu blinked as she watched the movie and then slowly her gaze rose to the adults clustered in the doorway. Her face split into the widest smile and her little arms shot out in longing. ‘Dan!’ she said.

  He was across the room in two strides, sweeping her around in his arms. ‘Hello, trouble. Did you see the tiny pony today?’

  ‘Dan!’ she said again happily, wrapping her arms around him like a koala.

  Dan’s eyes filled with tears and he turned to Grace. ‘Come and say hello to Lulu, Gracie? Lulu, I want you to meet someone really special.’

  ‘Hi,’ said Grace shyly, as Lulu regarded her suspiciously from under her ridiculously long eyelashes, her clasp on Dan ever tighter.

  ‘Hi,’ Lulu said in the end, after a pause that made Holly’s heart loop-the-loop in anticipation. Lulu tilted her head to one side, appraising this newcomer to her world. ‘Hug?’ she offered.

  Chapter 27

  Alice wrapped the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter and tried not to feel rattled. Her day was really not going to plan: not only had she essentially press-ganged Holly into returning to work, she was also missing out on a lovely evening of wine and nibbles and plotting. There wasn’t long now until the girls’ Christening and Alice had been over the moon when Holly had first asked her to be Olivia’s godmother, but right now she suspected all the plans were being finalised around Holly’s kitchen table without her.

  And, if she were honest, planning the Christening was much more in her comfort zone than offering spiritual guidance to a baby!

  She swallowed another wave of nausea and wondered which of her patients had passed along this little bug. Or indeed whether picking up a prawn sandwich from the motorway café had been such a clever idea. It was a remnant of her upbringing that Alice sought to quash: any time anything goes wrong, apportion blame. Likely as not, she was just run down from overdoing it, but still . . .

  She hesitated before picking up the phone to call her mother. Jamie was doing some night work with one of his clients and the prospect of a long evening with no company stretched ahead of her. She still couldn’t quite begin to process how much she missed him; she’d been a self-contained, independent adult for so long, that this longing, this ghastly neediness, was a double-edged sword. On the one hand it served to confirm the strength of her feelings for him; on the other, it made her feel vulnerable in a way that was uncomfortable in the extreme. Next weekend couldn’t come quickly enough, and she was grateful that Jamie was to be one of Lottie’s godfathers; it gave them a bond, a preliminary perhaps to them making some kind of commitment to each other? Not marriage – she wasn’t ready for that. But something?

  She shook the thought away, regretting it instantly as the room swivelled unbidden around her. Seeing Jamie, standing here in front of her, would be the only real way to know – was she pining for him, or the idea of him?

  She paused before dialling Orkney; crikey, she must be feeling low if she was banking on comfort from her mum. A lecture on returning home to Orkney? Yes. A blunt conversation about men who won’t commit? Absolutely. Supportive, loving compassion? Don’t hold your breath.

  Her mum genuinely didn’t seem to understand that her daughter had no wish to be married, no wish to move home and only a desire to savour every moment of her new-found happiness with Jamie and Coco. Stomach bugs and geography permitting.

  ‘Only me!’ called Tilly, as she let herself in. Decked out in a surgical face mask, bright yellow Marigold gloves and a paper smock, she looked like an extra from the movie Outbreak. ‘Is it safe to come in? I come bearing Dettol in industrial quantities and chicken soup from The Deli. Oh, and Hattie sends her love.’ She posed theatrically for maximum effect. ‘I hope you appreciate me taking my life in my hands to keep you company?’

  Alice hung up the phone mid-dial without a second thought. ‘I truly, truly do,’ she said with feeling.

  ‘Are you feeling any better?’ asked Tilly sympathetically, perching on the far end of the sofa, placing as much distance between herself and Alice as was humanly possible in the compact and bijou sitting room.

  ‘I am, actually. Just a bit grumpy, you know, about missing out.’

  Tilly laughed and her surgical mask inflated with warm air. ‘Ooh yes, it’s been a festival of delights at work today. I can see why you’d feel hard done by!’ As she went on to describe the litany of maladies she’d handled that day, Alice held up her hand to make her stop, as her stomach lurched uncomfortably at the very thought of Billy Frank’s verruca harvest.

  ‘So you see, kicking back with Gilmore Girls and a bucket’s not so very awful.’ Tilly smiled. She hesitated for a moment, uncharacteristically tentative. ‘Are you feeling really rough, or could you manage a little advice?’

  Alice’s smile slipped straight off her face, almost mirroring Tilly’s removal of her surgical mask. ‘Are you okay?�
� she asked. Problems that required advice, where Tilly was concerned, tended to be of the life-changing, continent-swapping variety and scale.

  Tilly nodded, biting her lip and looking increasingly uncomfortable. ‘I am, I mean, I’m fine. I think. I just—’ She cleared her throat determinedly and that was when Alice went straight to Defcon One.

  ‘Oh God, and I can’t even give you a hug, in case I give you the plague! Coco? Go hug Aunty Tilly,’ Alice said, possible scenarios running in her mind on a loop.

  Coco gave her mistress a sideways look, but did as she was bidden. And even though Tilly wasn’t really a dog person (and Coco knew it), she still buried her face in the little dog’s fur to disguise her stricken expression. ‘I really did come over to give you soup,’ she mumbled through Coco’s ears.

  ‘And I’m sure it will be lovely soup,’ said Alice, ‘but is there any chance we could talk about why you’re dripping all over my dog?’

  Tilly snorted, a laugh subsumed by a sob. ‘Don’t be too sympathetic, will you?’

  ‘Hard to be,’ said Alice, aiming for nonchalance, ‘when I have zero clue what’s going on.’

  Tilly took a visible breath and pulled herself together, as Coco gratefully escaped back to the warmth and comfort of Alice’s blanket. ‘I was going to leave,’ she said bluntly. ‘I was just waiting for Holly to come back, you know? I mean, I was drafted in for maternity cover, anyway. So, once Holly came back, I was going to leave.’ She looked up at Alice to gauge her reaction. ‘But then Holly came back today . . .’

  Alice was working hard to maintain a composed front. She’d known Tilly for long enough to realise that this was just the opening salvo.

  ‘And now?’ she said.

  Tilly shrugged. ‘Now, I don’t know what to do. It’s taken me by surprise a little. Holly coming back, even for a day, means I’m nearly done here, doesn’t it? And, in all honesty, I’d been counting the days – part of me feels like I’ve been in one place for too long. As long as it’s temporary, I can justify a few quirks, can’t I? Maybe the odd inappropriate relationship? Maintain my air of mystery?’ she said, aiming for humour. ‘But then you went and showed me the Pickwick Estate and I can’t get those people out of my head. I mean, it was easier to think about moving on and leaving all these privileged Cotswold families behind, go back to South America or something, but now I know—’