by Kate Hewitt
“Would you like to know the sex?” the technician asked with a smile.
“Oh…ah…” Miriam’s mind whirled. Did she want to know? She’d told herself she didn’t, all along she’d been trying not to know anything about this baby, but now some primal urge in her made her say, “All right. Go on, then.”
The technician’s smile widened. “You’re going to have a little girl.”
Miriam walked out of the ultrasound room in a daze. A girl. Why those words, that knowledge, should matter so much, she didn’t even know. She was still planning on investigating adoption; she had an appointment at the placement agency in Carlisle next week. And yet…a girl.
“Well?” Abigail asked briskly, as Miriam blinked her into focus. “How was it?”
“The baby’s fine,” she said, and then blurted, “Actually…more than that…I’m having a girl.”
Abigail’s face softened into a mass of kindly wrinkles. “A girl! How lovely. And very appropriate, considering all the Holley girls in the village already. She’ll be in good company. I’ll knit her a matinee jacket and booties. In white, if you don’t mind, because I never could abide pink.”
“That’s…” Miriam didn’t want to get into the tangle of adoption and what ifs. Not now. So she smiled instead, and even grasped Abigail’s hand. “Thank you,” she said instead. “That’s very kind.”
Abigail smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’m pleased for you, dear. I know these aren’t the circumstances anyone would want, and there’s no harm in admitting that. But at the end of the day, a baby’s a baby. A miracle.”
Tears pricked Miriam’s eyes and she blinked them back rapidly. “That’s what my dad said.”
“He’s a good man, your father. I miss him. We all do.”
Miriam nodded, her throat too thick to allow for words. She didn’t think she needed them, anyway; Abigail seemed to understand because she gave her another smile and sympathetic squeeze before saying briskly, “Right. I paid a pound fifty for an hour’s parking and I don’t want to pay any more. We’d better get on.”
Chapter Six
“Hello…?”
Miriam poked her head around the door of Thornthwaite Veterinary Surgery. It was a small place, in one of the terraced cottages on the top end of the high street. The front room had been converted to a waiting room, with plastic chairs and posters about the importance of vaccinations and flea and worming treatments, and the back room, with its frosted glass pane, was a treatment room. Both appeared to be empty for her first day of work.
She’d spent the weekend quietly, sorting through her stuff for her impending move and keeping the news of her scan to herself, at least for the meantime. It felt like a precious secret, and yet one she was ridiculously tempted to shout out.
She’d had the urge to take random strangers by the shoulders and say, “I’m having a little girl!” Thankfully, she didn’t, and she even managed to keep from telling her sisters, which hadn’t been as hard as expected because they’d all been busy—Rachel had spent most of the weekend with Sam; Esther and Will had been doing their farming thing; and Anna was in Manchester, although she was planning to come up next weekend to sort out wedding stuff.
Still, Miriam kept saying it to herself, in the quiet, terrified elation of her own mind, and sometimes even whispering it out loud. She told Bailey several times, scrunching up the puppy’s adorable cheeks as she whispered the words and Bailey tried to lick her face.
I’m having a little girl. I’m having a little girl. Except, maybe she wasn’t. Well, she was, but she wasn’t keeping it. Her. Was she?
The truth was, the scan had done exactly what Miriam had known and feared it would—it had thrown her into a chaos of doubt and longing. Half of her was picturing holding this baby, this little girl, and raising it amidst the loving squabble of her family, while the other half still wondered whether she should hand this child off to someone else, someone who would love it—her—and take care of her, and give her the kind of life Miriam wouldn’t ever be able to. Would she?
There went the doubt again, and so the weekend had gone on, in a dizzying spiral of doubt, wonder, joy, and terror. The pregnancy hormones were having a ball.
“Dan?” she called now as she stepped into the waiting room and closed the door behind her. There was a definite and not unpleasant smell of dog about the place. “Are you here?”
Still nothing. Miriam looked around uncertainly. She’d been here before, of course, for Bailey’s vaccinations, but it had been a quick visit and while Dan had been friendly, it had been quite soon after the wedding fiasco and they hadn’t talked much. Plus, Miriam had been feeling terribly nauseous with morning sickness, and the smell hadn’t helped. She’d left as soon as she could, with Bailey squirming in her arms.
Now she walked around slowly, scanning the posters, peeking in the consulting room, and the little office cum kitchen in the back, which was cluttered but also empty. Where was he?
There was no point calling his name, but she did anyway. “Dan…?”
Then the front door opened and Dan arrived with a blast of chilly, autumnal air, his hair ruffled from the wind and a ready-made sandwich in his hand, which he hefted aloft.
“Sorry, I just ran out to grab some lunch from the post office shop. I left the door open in case you arrived.” He gave her a quick smile as he came into the surgery, shutting the door behind him. “It’s good to have you here.”
“Thanks.” Miriam smiled back, wondering why she felt the teeniest bit awkward. Did it have anything to do with Abigail Cribbs’s blunt remarks about what the village would think? Why did she care?
“So, let’s get you settled.” Dan shed his coat and tossed his sandwich aside before going around the counter to where the phone and computer were kept. “This is your station, and all I need you to do really is answer the phone and schedule appointments.” Miriam followed him round, stepping out of the way and bumping against the wall when he reached past her to turn on the computer.
“It’s a pretty simple system… I’m afraid I’m not super techie.” He moved the mouse to open up a calendar system. “Appointments are twenty minutes unless it’s one of the procedures on this list.” He tapped a laminated card next to the computer. “In which case you can see how long each takes. The blocks that are empty are the ones that can be filled—as you can see, I’m always out on a Thursday afternoon. I do a farm animal clinic.”
“Okay. It sounds pretty simple.”
“Hopefully, it is.” He straightened, smiling at her so his hazel eyes crinkled. “When you’re not doing that, you can keep on top of my filing, which I’m ashamed to admit, is a complete and utter mess.”
Miriam glanced back at the stacks of paper tottering in piles on every available surface of the little office. It certainly was. “All right.”
“Once you’ve got on top of all that, there will be other things you can do…orders for supplies, invoices, that kind of stuff. But I’ll break you in gently.”
“Kind of like a pet,” Miriam joked, and Dan smiled.
“Trust me, you’re far more useful than any pet I’ve ever known.”
“You don’t know that yet,” Miriam replied. “And anyway, you don’t have a pet. Why is that?”
Dan raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t I have a pet?”
“You must like animals.”
“Yes, but it’s not really fair on a dog, to have one when I’m gone all day. And I must admit, I’m not much of a cat person.”
“Rabbits?”
“Nope.”
“A ferret?”
He pretended to shudder. “Someone in the village has a ferret and I have to say they do not make very good pets. Plus they smell.”
Miriam smiled as she took off her coat and sat down, spinning once in the chair. “A hamster, then.”
“No rodents.”
“Guinea pigs are cute.”
“In theory.”
She mock-frowned, trying not to laugh. �
��You’re not sounding like much of an animal lover.”
“I love to take care of animals,” Dan answered. “Not necessarily have one myself.”
“Did you always want to take over your father’s business?” she asked, and for a second Dan’s expression clouded.
“Yes, I suppose I never really thought of doing anything else,” he said as he turned away to deal with some paperwork. Miriam watched him, wondering why his father seemed like a sore point. The Taylors had been in Thornthwaite longer than the Holleys, as far as she knew.
“It must be nice, always knowing what you want to do with your life. I wish I did.”
“Perhaps you’ll find out.”
“Perhaps,” Miriam allowed, but she wondered. She was starting to take control of things, it was true, but she was still treading water, making ends meet, if only just. Still, it was enough for now.
The door to the surgery opened then, and a middle-aged woman Miriam didn’t recognise came in, holding a huge, fluffy Persian cat in her arms.
“Ah, Mrs Latham,” Dan said in a genial tone. “I’ll be with you in just a moment. If you could check in with my new receptionist?”
It took Miriam a little while, but after the first few appointments of the afternoon, she got into the swing of things—booking people in, making chitchat about their pets, and then going to the back to begin to sort out the disaster of Dan’s filing, or lack of it, only to scurry back to answer the phone when it rang.
She was kept busy, but not too busy, and the people and pets coming in every half hour or so made things interesting—over the course of one afternoon, she met a Persian cat, a black Lab, a toy poodle, and, of all things, a boa constrictor.
“I’m not an exotic pets specialist by any means,” Dan said when there was a lull and he offered to make tea. “But there isn’t one in Keswick and people don’t like to go farther than that.”
“I really can’t fathom why you’d want a boa constrictor for a pet,” Miriam said with a shudder. She’d watched the snake in slightly terrified fascination, relieved when Dan had invited the man to take his pet into the consulting room.
“Some people love snakes,” Dan answered with a shrug. “It takes all kinds.”
“I suppose it does.”
“How are you finding things? You seem to be managing.”
“Yes, it’s all fine, although have you filed anything in the last three years?”
Dan hung his head, mock-abashed. “Sorry.”
“It’s really quite appalling, and I’m speaking as a rather disorganised person myself.”
“It takes one to know one, I suppose.”
“It’s funny,” Miriam mused, “because your house is so neat and homey, everything in its place.” She glanced around the cluttered office, which was still a mess despite her having tackled the paperwork for the last few hours. “What happened?”
“Home is different,” Dan said after a moment. “I like my home to be a peaceful, cosy place. The office doesn’t matter to me so much.” Miriam cocked her head, mulling over that semi-revealing statement. Dan looked away, as if he’d felt he’d said too much.
“So, when are you thinking of moving into the annexe?”
“This weekend, if it’s okay by you. I don’t have much stuff.”
“That sounds fine. I have Saturday off, so I can help you move if you like.”
“Oh.” Miriam hesitated, because she knew Rachel or Sam, Will or Esther, or even Simon would all be happy to help. But she was trying not to rely on them so much, so… “All right. Thanks.”
An hour later, after two more appointments—a mixed breed dog and a Siamese cat—it was time for Miriam to head off. She felt strangely reluctant, because it had been fun and interesting and busy, more so, she had to admit, than working at the vicarage. Often Simon was out on visits or appointments, and before working on the website, she’d only really done some busy work, filing and organising. Admittedly, she wasn’t doing much more here, but it felt more necessary, mainly because Dan was such a disaster when it came to his paperwork, and Simon was, at least by comparison, quite organised.
“See you Wednesday?” he said cheerfully, and she nodded. “Wednesday.”
Back at the flat, Rachel was out, so Miriam took Bailey out for a quick walk before it got dark. She felt both energised and peaceful, which was a nice change from her usual flip-flopping between doubt and depression. The baby kicked inside her as she stood at the edge of a field and waited for Bailey to do her business. The kicks were becoming harder now, less flutter and more football. Miriam pressed her hand against her bump and felt another goal kick into her palm. For once, the movement made her smile.
The next few days passed quickly, between working at the vicarage and at the vet’s; Esther checked in by text, and over dinner one night Rachel asked her, somewhat cautiously, how she was finding working with Dan.
“It’s nice,” Miriam said, just as cautious. “It’s work, you know, a job, and I’m kept busy answering phones and making appointments. Plus, the pets add an interesting angle.”
Rachel shook her head slowly. “Do you know, I think I’ve only been in his surgery once or twice?”
“Really?” Considering they’d dated for three months and been engaged for six, it seemed a bit surprising.
“I know, right? It’s a little strange.” Rachel propped her chin in her hand. “It’s weird, but sometimes I feel like I didn’t really know Dan at all.”
“But you guys spent a lot of time together,” Miriam said, curious about her sister and Dan’s relationship in a way she wondered whether she should be.
“We did, sort of. I mean, we watched films, we had dinners in and out, and it was all very…comfortable. But it didn’t run very deep, now that I look back. I didn’t feel the way about him that I do about Sam, and the more I think about it, the more I wonder whether he felt as strongly about me as he thought he did.”
“He said he loved you,” Miriam reminded her. “More than you loved him.”
“Ye-es, and I think he believed that at the time. But I’m not sure he would now.”
“Well, I’m not going to ask him,” Miriam said, and Rachel gave her a funny look.
“Is it weird? You know, because of me?”
Miriam reflected on that for a moment before answering. “A bit, at first, but not so much anymore. We’re becoming friends in our own right. Sort of,” she added quickly, feeling a qualifier was needed. Rachel smiled and shrugged.
“It’s okay, Miriam. You can be friends with Dan. He’s a nice guy.”
She rose from the table, and Miriam resisted the sudden impulse she had to tell her sister she didn’t actually need her permission.
On Friday the sisters all assembled at the vicarage, to have dinner and discuss plans for Anna and Simon’s wedding in just six weeks. They’d originally intended to have the wedding right before Christmas, but had decided right after would be easier for everyone, Simon especially, with all the Christmas services to deal with. Ruth and Roger would be coming to Thornthwaite just before Christmas, to celebrate the holiday together as well as help with wedding plans. Anna was incredibly organised, but there was still a lot to do.
Now Miriam came into the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Anna at the Aga, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious, Charlie at her feet. It felt as if the world had righted itself again, having a Holley woman bustling about the comfortable space, the table laid for six.
“What is that you’re cooking?” Miriam asked as she gave her sister a hug. “It smells wonderful.”
“Just chicken stew,” Anna said with a modest shrug. “I just need to add the dumplings. It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”
“Wonderful.” Miriam sat down at the table with a gusty sigh; she’d spent the last three hours on her feet, bending over an ancient filing cabinet as she’d continued to sort out Dan’s endless paperwork.
“How are you, Miri?” Anna asked. “Esther told me you’re working
for Dan?”
“Yes, at his practice.”
“And living in his annexe?”
“Yes, it works out for both of us.” Miriam braced herself for the usual remarks, which had ranged from really, are you sure about this to isn’t that a bit awkward, depending on the person.
“That’s great.” Anna’s smile was warm and entirely genuine. “I’m glad you’ve found a place of your own.” Her expression gentled as she nodded towards Miriam’s ever-growing bump. “And what about that little one? Have you decided? Or should I not ask?”
“You can ask,” Miriam answered on a sigh. “But I don’t have an answer for you yet. I’m meeting with an adoption agency next week.” She watched Anna’s expression crumple a little bit before she smoothed it out and nodded quickly.
“Of course.” She didn’t say anything more, which Miriam appreciated. She knew her sisters meant well when they told her they would help and support her with this baby, but their reassurances just made her feel guilty for thinking about adoption at all.
“What about you, Anna?” she asked. “How are the wedding plans coming on? Not long now.”
“I know.” Anna’s face was suffused with happiness, which made Miriam feel glad and envious in uncomfortably equal parts. Her sister and Simon had such a wonderful, love-filled relationship; anyone could see it. It made the lack in Miriam’s own life, the loneliness, more apparent.
But that was okay, she told herself. That had to be okay, because she knew she couldn’t handle a relationship now, not that there was potential anywhere. She needed to get her own life in order first.
“Something smells delicious,” Esther announced as she strode into the kitchen with Will behind her, and gave Anna a quick, tight hug. “How’s the bride-to-be?”
“Very well, thanks,” Anna answered. She really was glowing. “How are you, Esther?”
Esther shot Will a quick, secretive look that made Miriam wonder what was up. “We’re doing well. I got an email from Mum, by the way. They want to Skype us after dinner, at seven.”