Practice Makes Perfect

by Penny Parkes

  They were brought up short in their merriment by the sight of Candace Channing weaving through the Market Place, barely missing an erratically driven red motorbike, which bunny-hopped to a halt and then lurched away without even stopping.

  ‘Bloody Percy Lawson,’ growled Grace under her breath, carefully easing her arm away from Elsie, ushering her into the supermarket ahead of her. Elsie may not yet know who the sad-looking woman was, but the likeness to Julia was uncanny and Taffy had discreetly updated her on the situation before he left. And there was something about the disconnected look in Candace’s eyes that made Grace instinctively nervous.

  ‘Candace?’ she said gently. ‘Are you okay? Do you want me to call Julia?’ Her hand was already reaching for her mobile when Candace swung around erratically.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ she hissed. ‘Just because that stupid busybody in there wouldn’t sell me what I wanted, there’s no need to summon the fun police.’ She laughed abruptly. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. My Julia can rain on any parade at a moment’s notice.’ She narrowed her eyes and looked Grace up and down. ‘Unless you’re one of her acolytes too?’

  Before Grace could reply, the clanging rattle of Dan’s beloved Land Rover echoed through the Market Place. He pulled to a halt beside them and swung his legs effortlessly to the pavement. Grace noticed the frayed rip in his ancient jeans and attempted to tell herself that the warm rush of feeling that overwhelmed her had everything to do with relief at his arrival and nothing to do with the sudden overwhelming urge to touch her boss’s tanned thigh.

  ‘There you two are, painting the town red,’ said Dan easily, no trace in his tone of the concern that had been writ large on his face as he’d driven up towards them. ‘I know I’m cutting your evening short, Candace, but I thought we’d head back? I’ve a couple of steaks on a promise and we can put the world to rights.’ He made it sound, thought Grace, as though an evening with his girlfriend’s mother was the perfect end to his busy day and Candace was clearly flattered.

  ‘You don’t have to cook for me,’ she purred, taking Dan’s outstretched hand as he helped her into the Land Rover. He shut the door firmly and turned to Grace.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said with feeling. ‘Julia’s filming and I’ve been driving around for ages looking for her.’

  Grace shrugged. ‘I can’t take any of the credit, I’m afraid. I just happened to be here with Elsie getting mozzarella supplies.’

  He smiled. ‘Ha – Caprese! Then you’re in for a treat. Get her to tell you about the time she pushed Brigitte Bardot out of the boat.’ He leaned in and kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you, Gracie. I know Holly wouldn’t have gone to Wales if you hadn’t stepped in and, between you and me, I think those two needed some time together.’ He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and hesitated. ‘They deserve to be happy, don’t you think, after everything they’ve been through.’

  Grace nodded her agreement and then felt a swell of bravery prompt her forward. ‘I think we all do, actually.’

  He looked up, caught unawares by the honesty in her voice, snagging his bottom lip in his teeth. ‘Do you miss Roy terribly?’ he asked. ‘Is it hard being alone after so long?’

  Grace took a moment, wanting to be as sincere as his quietly heartfelt question deserved. ‘It catches up with me sometimes, but I wasn’t happy. Before. With Roy. I didn’t ever feel like I could just be myself, you know. I always had to be what he needed. So now . . . now, it’s easier in some ways.’

  He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Now you get to be you.’ There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. ‘God help us all.’

  Grace couldn’t help but notice that Dan was still holding her hand, lightly, gently, but with a warmth that she couldn’t have foreseen.

  Candace broke the spell by hammering on the window of the Land Rover. ‘Are we going or not?’

  ‘I guess we’re going,’ Dan said, turning to leave. ‘For the record, we’re all so proud of you doing this course. It’s lovely to see you flourishing, even if it does mean you’re going to be a complete pain in the arse at work!’

  Grace watched them pull away and couldn’t help but smile. Dan had made it sound as though the choices she’d been worrying about might not be quite so challenging after all.

  Half an hour later, Elsie was unsettled and fidgety as she perched on the bar stool at the kitchen counter and Grace prepared supper to her exacting instructions: tearing – not cutting – the basil leaves to Elsie’s specifications and inhaling the pungent aroma of aniseed and summer as she did so. She handled the warm ripeness of the large red tomatoes with care, as she pulled them from the crinkled brown paper bag to slice, a trace of a smile still lighting her face as she thought of Dan’s expression.

  Elsie sniffed. ‘Good to see Marion was listening the other day – if you want to sell organic produce, there’s no point murdering it in a sweaty plastic bag. If only everyone in Larkford was quite so biddable.’

  She carried on muttering and every now and then Grace would look up, thrown by an unexpected edge or tone to Elsie’s grumbles. ‘Shall we set up camp in the dining room and I can bring everything through in a moment?’ she offered.

  Elsie gave her a stern look that brooked no argument. ‘Is there something you wish to share with the group? Are you concerned your Caprese will be found wanting or are you just reluctant to indulge in a little speculation about this Candace Channing?’

  Grace walked around the kitchen island and held out her hand. ‘Firstly, madam, it’s gossip, not speculation and secondly, you’re looking a little pale and fragile to be wobbling about on these spindly bar stools. You may be a petite and delicate flower, Elsie Townsend, but there’s no way I can scrape you off the floor by myself.’ The two women stood for a moment, the height of the stool giving Elsie a little boost that meant they were almost eye to eye.

  ‘I can’t believe I missed Dan,’ said Elsie petulantly changing the subject. ‘He’s such a tonic to the soul, that one. He always makes me forget that I’m verging on the geriatric, or maybe he’s so evolved that it’s just irrelevant to him?’ She looked at Grace, the message clear. ‘Dan always manages to look past all that and sees the real me, you know?’

  ‘And if he were here, then he could absolutely scoop you up in his arms, but he’s busy being somebody else’s knight tonight, so you’ll have to make do with me,’ said Grace firmly, as she helped Elsie down from the precarious bar stool and over to the sofa in the corner of the kitchen, catching her arm as she stumbled slightly. Not the destination of Grace’s choosing, but Elsie’s will was indomitable and she seemed determined to score a victory of wills, even as she was conceding defeat.

  ‘I’ve a little project on the go next door, so we’ll just stay in here. Pop some music on, would you, darling?’ said Elsie, waving an arm loosely towards a complicated stereo system beside her. ‘Something summery and sexy should do the trick.’

  Grace flicked through the CDs in a stack, noting the prevalence of Barry O’Connor albums and not wishing to be tactless. Her hesitation, of course, was not missed by Elsie’s eagle eye. ‘You can sling those in the bin while you’re there. I think we can do a little better than that.’ The words held such vehemence, such intensity, that Grace was frozen for a moment. Both women knew they weren’t talking about his soulful melodies and catchy lyrics.

  ‘Are we ever going to talk about what happened in Borneo?’ Grace said gently, wiping her hands on the tea towel she had slung nonchalantly over her shoulder. ‘It’s all very well you fixing all of our little conundrums, but who’s there to help with yours?’

  Elsie said nothing, but there was something in her demeanour that gave off a prickly warning that Grace had overstepped the mark. After a moment Elsie turned and took her hand. ‘You know, the last few months have been such a tiny part of my life when you take a step back – that’s what I’ve been doing, taking a step back and a moment to indulge myself with a few happier memories. So Borneo wasn’t
great – but it was just a blip on my timeline. When we’ve had a little bite to eat, I can show you. I’ve been having a little sort out since I got back . . .’

  Elsie blinked suddenly, as though a dart of pain had thrown her off topic. She dabbed her fingers to her lips and a whisper of a gasp escaped them.

  Grace missed nothing. ‘Are you okay? We didn’t have to talk about this, you know. I just wanted you to know that I’m here if you need me.’

  Elsie nodded slowly, looking slightly bewildered and disorientated. ‘You’re a very sweet girl, but I get to be the one with the answers around here. I thought we’d agreed that.’ She enunciated the words slowly, with great care and a little red flag started waving somewhere in Grace’s peripheral vision.

  ‘Elsie? When you were poorly in Borneo – the funny turn you mentioned – what actually happened?’

  Elsie didn’t reply for a moment but steadfastly stared at the slow puddle of mojito that was spreading across her skirt, where her left hand lay wilted in her lap. Grace knelt down in front of her, dialling her mobile as she did so. ‘Looks like a spontaneous road trip for you and me this evening,’ Grace said calmly, her voice soothing and even. ‘A little late night outing to Bath.’

  ‘S’not exactly Capri . . .’ scowled Elsie, even as the flickers of fear shadowed her gaze.

  ‘No, but it’ll do for now. Capri will have to wait.’

  Elsie stuck out her tongue in disgust and it was all Grace needed to see. ‘Ambulance please,’ she said as the phone line connected, ‘I have a patient with left-sided weakness, tongue deviation and possible history of TIA.’

  Chapter 18

  ‘You’re awfully quiet,’ said Taffy the next morning.

  Holly managed a smile. She couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit grateful for Taffy’s decision to limit their stay to one night. As lovable and welcoming as the Jones family were, they were also what Elsie would call ‘a bit much’. There was no respite from the banter and the questions and the teasing – when one brother tired, another would tag in and Patty would sit through it all with a beatific look on her face at having her whole brood safely ensconced around her mammoth kitchen table. She had practically force-fed them all roast lamb last night, until the twins had admitted defeat and been unable to manage any pudding – a rare and unusual occurrence in itself.

  Holly certainly felt as though her own life had been under the spotlight, which would have felt more intrusive if they hadn’t also peppered Taffy (or should she say Merry?) with volley after volley of questions. His parents certainly seemed relieved that he had given up his preoccupation with always being a locum and had finally committed to The Practice and by extension to Larkford – even if that meant that he wouldn’t be heading back to Wales to set up shop any time soon.

  She yawned and stretched. ‘Just enjoying the peace.’ Ben and Tom had been out of the door at sparrow’s fart, questing for eggs and bottle-feeding lambs with Taffy’s dad. Holly snuggled down deeper under the layers of vintage floral eiderdowns that Taffy had unearthed last night as the temperature dropped and Patty’s answer for the shivers had been the suggestion to ‘throw another dog on the bed’.

  Taffy looked relieved. ‘So you don’t hate it here? My family aren’t driving you nuts?’

  ‘God no, and well, yes, a little bit actually, in that order. It is quite full-on though, isn’t it?’ she smiled. Patty charging in with barely a knock to deposit two huge mugs of milky tea had been rather a surprise, particularly since they had been ‘making the most’ of a child-free bedroom. The fact that Patty had then sat down on the end of the bed for a chat, while Holly tugged the duvet tighter around her naked body had been another!

  Taffy sat on the bed to pull on his socks and casually removed a small plastic dinosaur from under his leg without missing a beat. ‘I know my lot can be a bit full on when you meet them all at once, but I needed to see that you knew what you were getting in to. This isn’t a “meet up twice a year for awkward conversations and canapés” kind of a family.’

  For the first time, Holly didn’t bristle when he talked about what she might be ‘getting in to’. There was no rush. Elsie was right, they could take their time and work out what suited them – both of them. And after all, a marriage certificate was really only a piece of paper and for Holly, that didn’t mean half as much as the fact that right now, they woke up together each day and consciously chose to be together.

  Patty appeared in the doorway, the house phone outstretched in her hand and looking worried. ‘There’s a call for you from work. I think it’s urgent – Dan says he’s been trying to get hold of you all night.’

  Taffy took the cordless phone, as Holly automatically checked her mobile and realised that she had no signal at all. Taffy’s earnest expression and his tone of voice only confirmed the urgency.

  Holly switched on to auto-pilot the moment she heard the news; Elsie had been admitted into hospital overnight. She was stable, he’d said, but asking for Holly. Grace was with her and poor Dan had spent quite some time phoning every Jones in the phonebook trying to track them down.

  Even as Taffy filled her in, Holly started tossing a variety of random and unrelated things into her enormous handbag, unsure of what she would need.

  ‘How quickly can we be there?’ she asked.

  Taffy carefully lifted the porcelain figurine from the dressing table out of her bag and passed her Ben’s teddy bear instead. ‘I’ll get the twins and Eric together and meet you by the car, okay? We’ll go straight to the hospital,’ he said. ‘I’ll just stay with the twins and act as chauffeur, if nothing else . . .’

  ‘No, no, no. It’s fine. Let’s go via home and I’ll get my car. I can manage.’

  Taffy just nodded. ‘Okay then. But I will just say that they’re digging up the car park at the hospital, so the parking might be a little bit tight . . .’ He let that one dangle for a moment, knowing exactly how to persuade Holly that she didn’t need to be brave and do everything by herself. Holly’s parking phobia had become a standing joke in the area, as she was often spotted parking miles away from her destination, simply to gain access to the privileged and wide-spaced world of Parent & Child Parking at the supermarket. Holly claimed she did it to keep fit, walking. Her insurance company were frankly grateful, along with any other car owners in the area.

  ‘Actually, Taffy,’ she conceded after a moment, ‘maybe a little company would be nice after all.’

  By the time Holly arrived at the hospital, she’d run through every scenario she could think of and had been dodging morbid thoughts all the way there, oblivious to the beauty of the drive, winding down towards Bath from Larkford, with all the trees donning their glossy summer foliage and a hint of warm hay in the air.

  Walking onto the ward in the hospital and watching Elsie hold court was enough to make her stumble in sheer relief. How she could go from an emergency admission to bossing around the nurses in a few short hours was nothing short of a miracle, or indeed a battle of mind over matter.

  Elsie was sitting propped up in bed, her cashmere dressing gown swathed around her and her pearl earrings catching the morning sun. It stood to reason that she would have somehow wangled the window bay. She was moaning to the sweet, terribly young-looking nurse about the flickering overhead strip lighting and how terribly ageing it was.

  ‘Honestly, darling, you have no idea how crucial lighting is – do you want all the relatives coming in here, thinking that their loved ones are at death’s door, when a simple soft-focus bulb change would make everyone look so much healthier . . .’

  ‘Well,’ mumbled the sweet nurse, who was clearly overawed, ‘the thing is that most of the patients in here are at death’s door. Jollying them up with fancy lighting might make things confusing, don’t you think?’

  ‘I do hope you’re not implying, young lady, that I’m on my way out too. Perhaps you’ve got me in the wrong ward? There’s nothing wrong with me that a stiff gin and a good . . .’

  ‘Els
ie!’ said Holly, hurriedly interrupting. ‘How on earth did you bag the window slot? Morning, gorgeous,’ she continued, barely pausing for breath before leaning down and kissing Elsie firmly on her cheek. The nurse took the opportunity to scuttle away, reaching for her phone automatically as she did so. Holly could only hope that she was calling a friend with the news of a Celebrity in her care, rather than going on Twitter or calling the papers.

  ‘Did you have a lovely time in Wales?’ Elsie asked, as though they were sitting in her conservatory drinking coffee. ‘Young Taffy was so nervous about introducing you to his folks – must be quite the smitten kitten. But, I told him he didn’t need to worry about a thing. I bet his mam adored you, didn’t she? I mean why wouldn’t she? But still . . .’

  Holly blinked hard. In the car, in the long strip-lit corridors, she’d been running all sorts of horrendous scenarios, most of which ended with her arriving too late. Now here was Elsie, talking nineteen to the dozen, without a care in the world. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  She settled in the end, for taking Elsie’s papery hand in her own, pulling up the visitor’s chair as close as she possibly could and letting her friend chat on. Rather than exhausting her, every new line of conversation seemed to bring a little more colour to her cheeks and a little more spark to the trademark twinkle in her eye. Holly slowly breathed out. Elsie was going to be fine. It was just another scare and that happened to people in their eighties.

  She looked up, suddenly aware that Elsie had stopped talking and was looking at her, waiting for a response.

  ‘I’m sorry I scared you, Holly,’ Elsie whispered, a flash of fear tightening her face for a moment. ‘There just wasn’t much I could do about it.’