by Kate Hewitt
“You have a few months, though.”
“Yes…although that’s not a lot time to sort out my entire life, is it? Job, house, baby…” She shook her head.
“You have a job,” Dan reminded her. “And a flat.”
Miriam grimaced. “Rachel’s bought a house on the bottom end of the village. I’m going to have to move out.” Belatedly she realised she probably shouldn’t be talking about Rachel to Dan. “Sorry…”
“No, don’t be sorry. I’m glad for her. Glad for both of us, now that we’ve got rid of that behemoth of a house. It was really weighing us down. But can’t you stay in the flat?”
“I can’t afford it, and it’s not the most practical place for me, anyway. The trouble is, I can’t afford anything. I’ll probably end up having to move in with Will and Esther or something dreadful like that.” She forced a little laugh, determined to stop moaning. Dan didn’t need to hear all her problems. “Anyway, like I said, Simon’s at the coffee morning.”
“Actually, I just came by to drop off some tablets for Charlie. His heart medication.”
“Charlie’s on heart medication?”
“Nothing too serious. Just something to even out his heartbeat.” He smiled. “He is getting old, though, you know.”
“I know.” Still, she hated the thought of something happening to the dog she’d loved since she was a young teen.
“Don’t add Charlie to your worries, Miriam.” Dan smiled gently. “He’s all right. And as for housing…” He paused. “I might have a solution, if you’re interested.”
“You?” Miriam couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.
“Yes, me.” Dan smiled. “I have a one-bedroom stable cottage behind my house. I was originally planning to turn it over for holiday lets, but it’s proven to be too much faff—the cleaning, the turnover, maintenance, the rest of it. I can’t be bothered with that all, and so it’s empty.”
Already Miriam was shaking her head. “I don’t want more charity, Dan. I need to stand on my own two feet.”
“And so you would. I’m not offering it rent-free.”
“I don’t think I can afford—”
“I’m offering it in exchange for ten hours of admin work at my surgery. My part-time receptionist quit, and I need the help but would rather not pay the wage. If you’re willing to work, you can live in the annexe for free.”
Miriam hesitated, frowning. It sounded reasonable, but it felt too easy. “Are you just doing this to be nice?” she asked.
“Nice? Some would call it slave labour. You haven’t seen the state of my files.”
“Still…”
“It helps us both out. But have a think. No pressure.” He held his hands up laughingly, his hazel eyes glinting. “Now I’d better get on to Folly Farm before it gets any later and check on a horse with hoof rot.”
Chapter Three
“Esther?”
Miriam blinked sleep from her eyes as she stared in befuddlement at her oldest sister standing on her doorstep, Bailey barking excitedly around her ankles. It was Saturday morning, and not the best time for visitors.
“Surprise,” Esther said airily. “I thought you could use a day out.”
“A day out where?”
“At the farm. Will’s cooking.”
Miriam simply stared, trying to come to terms with her notoriously prickly older sister’s sudden burst of bonhomie. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean, what’s going on?” Esther looked offended. “I’m having you over, that’s what.”
“Ordering me over, more like.”
“I knew you wouldn’t rouse yourself otherwise. Bring the puppy, as well. She and Lola can have a play. Now, chop, chop. I’ll make you a coffee while you get in the shower.” She sidled past Miriam into the flat, glancing around in open curiosity.
“This place really is quite homey.”
Miriam sighed and pushed a hank of hair out of her eyes. “Has Rachel told you…?”
“That she’s bought a house at the bottom of the village? Yes.” Esther turned to face her. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
Miriam thought of Dan’s offer from two days ago, which was becoming more and more tempting. “A bit.”
“Well, lucky you, big sister is here to make at least some of your decisions.” She pointed to the bathroom. “Shower!”
Half-grumbling, half-laughing, Miriam obeyed. She had an odd sort of relationship with Esther, she reflected as she stepped under the hot spray of the shower. Thirteen years older than her, Esther had left for uni when Miriam was only four.
She’d returned to work for Natural England and marry Will when Miriam was in her teens, and at her most rebellious. Esther had been decidedly unimpressed by Miriam’s typical teenaged antics—dyeing her hair ridiculous colours, smoking in front of the vicarage, an in-school suspension for talking back to a teacher.
None of the other Holley sisters had played up like Miriam had, and although no one had actually said as much, Miriam had always, always felt it. She was the black sheep, the problem child, the one everyone talked about in whispers with rolled eyes or pursed lips.
She’d been okay with it, or thought she had; she’d even relished it, for a little while. But now she was an adult, or supposed to be one, and yet she was still, as ever, the problem child. She feared she’d never escape it, and so she didn’t even try. But that, Miriam told herself, was going to change. It had to.
“Coffee’s ready,” Esther called, and reluctantly Miriam turned off the shower. Esther clearly had an agenda for the day, and one that no doubt involved a stern talking-to. Miriam sighed as she stepped out of the bathroom and then went into the bedroom to pull on some clothes.
“Thanks for this,” she said when she accepted the mug of steaming decaf from her sister a few minutes later. Esther eyed her critically before giving a quick nod.
“Pregnancy suits you. You’re blooming.”
Miriam gave a little huff of laughter. She didn’t think pregnancy suited her at all. “You always were a bit on the skinny side,” Esther continued in her typically blunt way. “You looked a bit runty. But you’re rounder now.”
“Thanks, I think? I’m only going to get rounder.” She was still managing with stretchy trousers and loose tops, but maternity clothes were in her not-too-distant future.
“Where’s Rachel, by the way?” Esther asked as she sipped her own coffee.
“She and Sam and Nathan have gone to Carlisle for the day. Some exhibit on Legos that she thought Nathan would like.” She cocked her head. “But you must have known that, to show up here the way you did.”
“Rachel mentioned she was out most of the weekend,” Esther admitted, unabashed. “And I’ve been meaning to have you over, anyway. Today seemed like a good day.”
Miriam couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to Esther and Will’s farmhouse a mile outside of Thornthwaite. She’d only ever gone a handful of times, since most family gatherings had happened at the vicarage, and Miriam missed a good portion of those anyway, due to her travels.
“So is this your good deed of the day?” she asked lightly. “Or do you have an ulterior motive?”
“No ulterior motive, besides giving you a bit of a break, as well as a kick up the backside, if needed.”
Miriam arched an eyebrow. “If needed?”
“And I’m sure it will be,” Esther replied cheerfully. “I’m quite looking forward to it, actually.” Which made Miriam laugh. She could handle Esther’s blunt and forthright ways better than Simon’s gentle, earnest cajoling. She still felt guilty for more or less telling him off the other day, and she hadn’t seen him since to offer any sort of apology. She’d finished her hours at the vicarage before he’d returned from the coffee morning.
Outside it was a damp and grey day, typical of late autumn in the Lake District. Miriam shivered as Bailey sniffed the ground excitedly, waiting to be lifted into Esther’s old Rover.
Alt
hough she wasn’t looking forward to Esther’s inevitable verbal kick, it was quite nice to be going somewhere different. For the last few months Miriam had been holed up in the flat or walking around Thornthwaite, and then, more recently, working at the vicarage. She hadn’t seen anyone but her sisters and Simon, and although she hadn’t really wanted to do or see much else, it had still felt limiting.
As Esther drove down a narrow road and out of the village, Miriam’s spirits lifted imperceptibly.
“I didn’t know Will could cook,” she remarked and Esther gave a little smile.
“He can’t, not really. He manages a basic spag bol and a Hungarian goulash dish that I think tastes awful.”
“So which are we having today?”
“A roast. That’s the other thing he does, although I have to do the Yorkshire puddings. He tried once and they were as flat as pancakes, poor man.”
They didn’t talk for the rest of the short distance to Will and Esther’s house, a low-lying, whitewashed farmhouse with drooping eaves, surrounded by farmyard and sheep pasture, the fells as ever a stunning backdrop, their grey-green peaks thrusting towards the horizon. Smoke curled from the chimney into the sky, grey on grey, and in the distance a sheep baaed mournfully.
Bailey jumped out of the Rover as soon as Esther lifted the door of the boot, and Miriam hurried to loop the lead around her neck. “She hasn’t been trained around sheep yet,” she warned, and Esther grinned.
“Don’t worry, Will won’t shoot her.” It was legal for a farmer to shoot a dog that was worrying sheep, and there had been a couple of cases over the years where exactly that had happened. Despite Esther’s assurances and Will’s good nature, Miriam decided to keep a tight rein on the puppy. She would hate for something to happen to one of the sheep—or to Bailey.
“Hey, Miriam.” Will smiled easily as Miriam came into the cluttered, low-ceilinged kitchen, the mouth-watering aroma of roast pork and apples scenting the air. Lola, Will and Esther’s new springer spaniel puppy, came bounding over to inspect Miriam, and more importantly, Bailey.
“Hi, Will.” Miriam let the dogs sniff each other as she shucked off her coat and boots, savouring the rumbling warmth the huge Aga emitted. The room was both messy and cosy, with a tangle of welly boots in a heap by the door, and a pile of folded washing tottering on one of the chairs. It reminded Miriam of the vicarage kitchen the way it used to be, when her mum had been bustling around, her father leaning against the Aga and laughing. She could picture it perfectly, and it sent a pang of homesickness through her, surprising in its strength.
“Thanks for inviting me,” she said a bit gruffly, bending down to ruffle both Bailey and Lola in an attempt to hide the sudden emotion that coursed through her at being here, in a proper home.
“No problem. We should have had you over sooner, so you could sample my stupendous cooking.”
“I can’t wait, especially for your Yorkshires,” Miriam teased, and Will grinned. She hadn’t spent loads of time with Will over the years, besides the usual family gatherings, many of which she’d missed during her four years of travelling the globe. She’d always liked him, though, or what she knew of him, and she was surprisingly glad that Esther had invited her over. A change was as good as a rest, or so they said.
“So how long until it’s ready?” Esther asked as she came in with a gust of cold air and went to the deep farmhouse sink to wash her hands.
“Another hour or so.” He glanced at the ancient teapot-shaped clock on the mantel above the Aga, which had been fitted into the original fireplace nook. “It’s only half past eleven, after all.”
“True enough.” Esther turned to Miriam with a bright, determined look. “Time for us to walk the dogs, then.”
And for her to get a talking-to. Miriam had resigned herself to it, but she still felt a bit tetchy that Esther was, as ever, determined to say her piece. What was she going to lecture her about? Not making more of an effort with the parish, like Simon? Or not having reached a decision about this baby?
When Miriam had mentioned the possibility of adoption to Rachel a few months ago, her family-loving sister had looked both startled and sad. She’d offered the requisite words of support, but Miriam had been able to tell that Rachel hoped she wouldn’t give the first Holley grandchild up for adoption. And since Esther had had a miscarriage a few months ago, she might be thinking the same thing…and be about to tell Miriam so.
“Do I have to?” she asked, only half joking. “I’ve only just come in, after all.”
Esther didn’t even look at her as she answered, pulling a pair of wellies from the pile by the door. “Yes, you do.”
A few minutes later, appropriately attired and shod, they headed out to the muddy fields that surrounded the farmhouse, the steep, grey-green mountains a striking backdrop against a rain-heavy sky. The dogs raced ahead of them, yipping and yapping as they tumbled over each other, making Miriam smile.
“So what do you want to lecture me about?” she asked Esther once they’d walked the length of one empty field and then crossed a stile to another.
“No lecture,” Esther replied as she squelched through the mud. “Actually, Miriam, I really just wanted to see how you were holding up.” She looked at her with such concern that Miriam felt her throat start to close up. She hadn’t expected that.
“What about that verbal kick up the backside?”
“Who said it was verbal?” Esther smiled, even though her eyes were still shadowed with concern. “Seriously, Miriam. I’m worried about you. This is hard stuff. How are you doing, really?”
Really? Was that a question she wanted to answer? Miriam squinted as she stared up at the sky, struggling to rein in her unruly emotions. Darn these pregnancy hormones, although she knew she couldn’t blame her surge of sentiment on biology alone. Esther was right. This was hard stuff.
“You can tell me the truth, Miri,” Esther said, using a nickname Miriam hadn’t heard during the years she’d been away. “I’ve been through some hard stuff of my own, you know. The miscarriage…leaving Will for months…” She shook her head in memory. “Daft cow that I am.”
Miriam gestured to her bump. “I think I’m the cow.” It was a well-worn joke by now, but all she had left was levity. If she lost that…she just might fall apart. Completely. And then she didn’t know what she’d do.
“Don’t.” Esther put one hand on her arm, her expression turning fierce. “Don’t run yourself down, Miriam. There’s enough people to do that for you.”
“It was a joke—”
“And one you’re using to cover up what you really feel. Trust me, I know how that goes.”
“You covering up with jokes? Sorry, Esther. I don’t think you’re funny enough.”
Esther rolled her eyes. “Seriously.”
Miriam stared at her, her sister’s hand still on her arm, her expression concerned and even tender, at least for Esther. A cold wind buffeted them and the dogs continued to run rings around each other, barking excitedly. “Seriously?” She blew out a breath, trying to keep her voice from wobbling. “I don’t know how I am. I’m trying to pretend I’m not pregnant, but that’s not working out so well. I think about giving this baby up for adoption, but something in me resists, although I couldn’t even say why. Because the truth is, right now I can’t see any other way. I certainly can’t see myself living in Thornthwaite as a single mum in some grotty council flat…not that the village even has council flats, but you know what I mean.”
“It wouldn’t have to be like that.”
“No, but it rather would, wouldn’t it? I mean, my career prospects are virtually nil at the moment.”
“You have a job—”
“Part-time at minimum wage.”
“Still, Miriam. There are ways…” Esther pursed her lips. “If you want to keep this baby, you have family who will love and support you…if you let us.”
“I know that, and I appreciate it, honestly. But it’s not that easy.”
&n
bsp; “Why not?”
Miriam blew out a breath and started walking. “Because I don’t want to still be the screwup,” she called over her shoulder as she strode through the muddy field, feeling the need to go somewhere. “Same as I’ve always been. And if I stay in Thornthwaite, if I let you all take care of me and tell me what to do…that’s what I’ll be. And I want—I need—to be something different for once.”
Esther started striding after her, her hands on her hips. “Your logic makes no sense. Running away from your problems, putting your head in the sand…those are the actions of a screwup. Letting people help you when life is hard is not.”
Miriam had known Esther wouldn’t get it. She wanted to stand on her own two feet, and the only way she could see herself doing that was without a baby. If she gave this baby up for adoption, she could go to uni, or get a proper job, move to a city or somewhere with more going on, at least. Start living for herself. The trouble was, none of that actually appealed.
They walked in silence for a while, until it started to rain icy, needling drops and they turned back towards home.
“On a more practical note,” Esther said as the farmhouse came into view, “what about a place to stay, now that Rachel’s moving? We’ve got four bedrooms…”
Miriam suppressed a groan at the thought of being Will and Esther’s lodger. “That’s very kind of you, but I’ve actually sorted my accommodation.”
“What?” Esther stopped midstride, looking gobsmacked. Miriam enjoyed having the upper hand for about a millisecond before the interrogation started. “When did this happen? Just this morning you said you hadn’t—”
“I said I’d thought about it—”
“A bit. So where are you staying, then?”
Miriam hesitated. She hadn’t actually made a decision about staying at Dan’s, not until this moment. But now, with Esther’s offer on the table and a restlessness taking hold of her, she decided it was the right thing to do. She had to stop stagnating and delaying. Finding a sustainable place to live was surely the first step, and Dan’s offer would benefit them both. It wasn’t charity; she would work hard to make sure it wasn’t.