by Penny Parkes
She knew from her last appointment with Molly, that she was struggling not to slide into depression. ‘When you start being jealous of the people with cancer, Dr Graham, you know something’s not right. I mean, they get Macmillan, pink ribbons and moon walks – they get support and acknowledgement of what they’re dealing with. What do I get? Abuse for being lazy . . .’
For Molly, the old adage about not knowing what goes on behind closed doors rang only too true – none of these thoughtless people would ever get to witness her daily struggles or appreciate her strength and determination.
Holly knew that they had to limit the remit of their Health in the Community Scheme somewhere, but she couldn’t help wondering whether there was something they could do, even if it was just to counteract the ignorance surrounding invisible disabilities. Surely Molly should be allowed to park her car or use the disabled loo at the supermarket without having to defend herself and share her private medical issues?
In the meantime, all she could offer was her own support and an open door. She’d already sorted out the best consultants she could access, and with a bit of luck they could delay the onset of the more debilitating symptoms, but when it came to Parkinson’s, you couldn’t put the rabbit back in the hat. For Molly Giles it was all downhill from here.
Holly slipped out of the side door on her break. She couldn’t quite face the doctors’ lounge this morning. To be more accurate, she couldn’t quite face Julia trying to pin her down for a day’s filming with Quentin when it sounded like Holly’s idea of hell. She’d even tried to barter covering Julia’s pre-natal clinic to avoid a day with Quentin’s crew charting her every move, but it was some measure of Julia’s persistence that she’d turned that suggestion down. True, she had wavered slightly, but ultimately she was on a mission for a date in the diary and Holly sensed that Quentin was the one pulling the strings.
Julia’s brittle mood since the party had been preying on Holly’s mind, but every time she tried to talk to her about it, they got caught up in this farce around the camera crew. Shying away from a lens in her face, meant that Holly was essentially shying away from her friend, but sometimes the friendship felt more like work than a pleasure. It was not something she was particularly proud of.
She made a mental note to follow up with Lizzie about how her CBT was progressing – again, tiptoeing around the issue, because since starting therapy, Lizzie had decided that she didn’t want to talk about it, but nevertheless became easily offended if Holly forgot to log in for a day or two. It was a difficult balance to strike. Holly sighed – God knows, she loved her friends and wanted to be there for them, but sometimes she honestly wondered whether she had anything left to give at the end of a long day.
Picking up a speedy take-away coffee from The Deli, Holly nipped through the Market Place, sunglasses on to discourage conversation and wound up, as always, in her favourite spot behind the church. She was shocked to see somebody already sitting on her bench, having become so accustomed to being the only one who came here.
‘You hiding out too?’ she asked Dan gently, as she sat down beside him.
‘Is it that obvious?’ he asked, running his hand over his head in what had become a new tell of discomfort since the charity head shave. Even though his hair was now nearly back to its usual glossy self, the self-conscious habit remained. ‘I think I might be losing the plot,’ he said.
‘Flashbacks again?’ Holly asked, immediately.
‘No, thank God,’ said Dan vehemently. ‘Just life in general.’ He smiled tiredly. ‘You know how it is . . .’
‘I do,’ said Holly with feeling. ‘This week in particular, I really bloody do.’
They sat content in each other’s company for a few minutes, neither wanting to sully the peaceful respite with conversation. The heat of the day was building and a plump thrush was cycling through his various calls in the graveyard like a broken car alarm, switching melody and rhythm every few bars, just to keep them on their toes. The steady buzzing from the bees on the lavender bushes lining the path was soothing and reassuring.
‘Taffy’s out running. Again,’ Holly offered, trying to resist the urge to moan about their disjointed and truncated conversation earlier. The whole idea of an impending visit from Milo had thrown a miniature grenade into their week and, predictably, the waiting to see what happened next was proving the hardest part.
Dan nodded, unsurprised. ‘Well, it’s how he’s coping, isn’t it? With this whole Milo business . . .’
Holly sighed. Part of her was actually a little bit jealous that Taffy had found a way to deal with the pressure better than she had; the other part was simply annoyed that every time they hit a stumbling block anywhere in their lives, Taffy’s go-to reaction was to pull on his trainers and leave her standing.
‘I think it’s the unknown that’s bothering us both. It might still be nothing . . .’ Holly paused, unconvincing even to her own ears. ‘Did he talk to you about it?’
Dan shook his head. ‘Only in passing.’
‘And I just have no idea how to talk to him about this,’ Holly confessed. ‘He seems so withdrawn suddenly . . . Distant, you know?’
Dan looked sideways at her. ‘I’m not surprised. He can’t really win, can he? But I can promise you he has an opinion on this, even if he knows it’s not what you want to hear.’ He paused. ‘Hence the running, I imagine.’
Holly nodded. Taffy was in an untenable situation – his own personal feelings about how to handle Milo tempered by the knowledge that, like it or not, he was part of their lives. ‘I keep saying we should decide on a plan together, but he just steps back, says he’ll follow my lead . . .’ She sighed helplessly.
‘Your kids, your ex-husband,’ Dan said bluntly. ‘Is he actually pulling back and being unsupportive, or giving you space to make your own decision? Biting his tongue so he doesn’t say something he’ll regret?’
Holly frowned and sipped her coffee. He made a valid point and that in itself was incredibly annoying this morning. Her expression said it all and Dan held up his hands in mock surrender.
‘Look, just ignore me today. I’m being grumpy and rude with everyone. And what do I know about relationships?’ He paused and looked uncomfortable. ‘Did Julia tell you she’d been offered a job in London?’ he said eventually, as though dipping his toe in the water to test her reaction.
‘What?’ Holly tipped her face back in the sunshine, frowning. ‘She won’t take it though, will she? She’s got too much invested here.’ She turned to look at Dan for reassurance and was stunned by the expression on his face. ‘Will she?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m beginning to think I’ve made an awful mistake.’ He didn’t elaborate and Holly felt the first stirrings of frustration. It was one thing to co-opt her thinking bench, it was quite another to add to her mental gymnastics with yet another problem.
If Julia absconded, where would it leave them? Had all the upheaval to accommodate Julia’s blasted film crew and her ambitions in that direction been for nothing? So much for loyalty and working as a team!
‘Well? Is she going to take it?’ Holly demanded, feeling properly riled now and taking her frustration out on Dan. ‘Can’t you talk her around?’
She stopped then, Dan’s entire demeanour shouting out that her anger was misplaced here. She could be as annoyed with Julia as she liked, but Dan wasn’t the one at fault. She leaned her shoulder against his. ‘What’s actually going on, Dan? And don’t forget, what’s said on the bench, stays on the bench, so don’t feel you have to filter.’ She saw a flicker of a smile as she wildly misquoted their Rugby Club Tour slogan and was pleased to see the tension in his face soften a fraction.
‘I don’t know about the job, to be honest. She’ll take it or she won’t, but either way, she and I have called it quits.’
Holly jolted in astonishment. Somehow, they had all become so accustomed to the bickery side of that relationship, that it had ceased to be an issue and Holly had assumed it was a dyn
amic that worked for them – even if it would have driven her personally insane.
‘Oh, Dan, was it awful? Have you two been yelling at each other for days?’
He shook his head. ‘We couldn’t even muster an argument in the end. Just a quiet conversation in the car park during the launch party. Just a few tired words and that’s that.’ He looked utterly dejected. ‘I’m beginning to think we should have had a bloody good row to clear the air though, because the polite respectful route just means neither of us are admitting it’s over. It’s been days and she hasn’t told a soul.’
‘Well, you’ve told me now; how does that feel? If nobody else knows, at least you have a window of opportunity to get back together. Do you want that?’
He shrugged. ‘I keep thinking that Julia might, though – why else is she keeping it a secret?’
Holly drained her coffee cup and expertly lobbed it into the bin a few metres away.
‘Nice!’ said Dan automatically. ‘Taffy’s a lucky bloke, you know.’
Holly blushed. ‘Actually, I think I might be the lucky one in our relationship. He does put up with an awful lot to be with me.’
‘Yeah, but he’s not the easiest of souls to live with either. I do realise that, Holly. All that boundless energy for one thing. All that perpetual motion and positivity.’ He grinned. ‘It has to be wearing.’
She paused. ‘Maybe we should schedule in a bloody great argument to clear the air too?’
‘Nah. Taffy doesn’t do drama.’ Dan dismissed the very suggestion. ‘You’ll have to take him as you find him I’m afraid. But he does do loyal and loving and slightly bonkers – and to be fair, he does it very well . . . If you really want to help him let off steam, buy him some water balloons – he does love a water balloon,’ Dan said fondly. Holly couldn’t help but notice there was more love, respect and affection in Dan’s voice when he talked about his best mate than there ever had been when he talked about his girlfriend. Or should she say ex-girlfriend?
‘On the other hand,’ Dan continued, ‘maybe all four of us need to clear the air? Relationships aside, there’s so much going on at The Practice and I can’t help feeling that we’re building to breaking point.’
‘About the Model Surgery?’ said Holly, just as Dan said –
‘About the staffing levels.’
‘Ah,’ said Dan. ‘Not just me then? Worrying about our doctor to patient ratios has become my new hobby. If we didn’t have the lovely Alice Walker to pick up the strain, I think I’d have had an aneurysm by now.’
Holly took a deep breath and plunged right in, fuelled by a need to share her own concerns and make sure Dan’s focus was actually where it needed to be. ‘Listen, it’s probably not the best time, but I actually think our ratios might be the least of our problems. I have to tell you that this Model Surgery business is still making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. We already have so much exposure through Julia’s TV show, but I can’t help feeling this is different: we’re basically standing up and saying this is how a practice should be run. And you know how I feel about the “shoulds” these days. Can we at least discuss how we’re going to be presented to the world at large, because, well, look at us . . . we’re making it up as we go along and we are no role model.’
Dan sat forward on the bench. ‘Since we’re being frank about this then, tell me where all this is coming from? I thought you’d be pleased about the nomination, the funding, the reprieve? For God’s sake, Holly, you chose Alice!’
Holly shrugged. ‘Of course I’m pleased about the funding and the lifeline and Alice, but make no mistake here, Dan – Harry Grant was right. And we are going to pay for this one way or another.’
‘Is this because of Milo?’ Dan frowned.
Holly blinked. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, last time the press were around for the Save The Practice campaign, you had to pay rather a high price, if I recall. And Taffy’s off calling that solicitor-mate of his suddenly . . . Are you worried that all the press attention will bring more problems out of the woodwork?’
Holly didn’t like to say that that ship had already sailed off the back of the launch party. She wanted him to focus on the very real and valid professional concerns she had. ‘Think about it for a minute. Think about how we do things here, with tasks slipping through the cracks because we’re all management and nobody is actioning any of our plans. We survive here because we have the most amazing support staff. Without a hierarchy, we’re only a few days away from anarchy – God knows what would happen if Grace went on holiday! She’s basically the glue holding all this together and we can’t afford to take advantage of that.’
Dan listened intently, and Holly could only hope that he was taking her concerns seriously.
‘What if they use our business model elsewhere and they don’t have a Grace? What if somebody’s health is put in jeopardy because we decided that a communal management style was easier than making a tough decision about who should be Senior Partner?’ Holly took a deep breath and the momentum of her emotional outburst carried her forward. ‘I know there might be a few hurt feelings and it might cause a few ripples in our private lives, but if we’re going to be the grown-ups, shouldn’t we be able to act like it too? And don’t think that Derek Landers won’t be out to catch every slip-up we make. Whatever Harry Grant might say, this is no level playing field and that horrible, sweaty man does not like us very much.’
Dan sighed. ‘Why didn’t we talk about all this before?’
But Holly and Dan already knew the answer. It had been easier not to rock the boat – and the very nature of this four-man partnership had meant that their domestic insecurities had encroached on their business decisions.
‘Do you think we could formalise something more structured before the NHS team descends?’ Dan asked in the end. ‘We don’t have a choice now about the lack of hierarchy – if we lose that, we lose Alice and the new nursing hours. But is there a way, do you think, that we can keep both?’
‘You’re asking me?’ Holly said, who still considered Dan her senior whatever their job titles may state. She laughed, tiredly. ‘Listen, I’m still trying to adjust to the fact that my own children have decreed Taffy a better doctor than me, because he’s a man!’
‘What?’ said Dan.
‘Well, they came home and asked for Taffy to represent them on “What Do Mummy and Daddy Do At Work Day” – I can’t work out whether to be chuffed to bits that they’ve so eagerly accepted him or worried stiff in case he decides . . .’ Her voice cracked a little and she was about to change the subject when Dan intervened.
‘In case he decides what, Holly?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing. Ignore me. I’m just tired too.’
‘Oh Holly, give the bloke a little credit to begin with,’ said Dan gently. ‘Do you honestly think Taffy would have moved in and taken on such a huge role in the boys’ lives, in your life, if he wasn’t in it for the long haul? Seriously? I can see why you might be worried, but if there was ever a bloke pining for a family it’s Taffy Jones. And you, you daft eejit, are the only girl I have ever known him to fall for this hard. This is not a passing fancy for him. Throw the poor bloke a bone – so you don’t want the big I Do – who cares? Book a holiday for next year, buy a cat, just do something to prove to him that you’re in it for the long haul too!’
‘Oh,’ said Holly quietly, a little taken aback by Dan’s vociferous defence of his mate. ‘So you don’t think . . .’
‘That he’s a better doctor than you? No,’ said Dan with a grin. ‘But I do think the boys might be quite proud to have a “daddy” to take into school for once. Had you thought about that?’
Holly silently digested everything Dan had said for a moment. When the boys had said ‘better’ she had assumed instantly, defensively, that they meant professionally. Of course they must be excited to show off Taffy as the new man in their lives – after all, hadn’t she been doing more or less the same thing for the last few mont
hs?
‘For somebody who hasn’t had kids, you’re really very good at all this,’ Holly said in the end.
‘Uncle Dan has his uses,’ he replied drily. ‘But I really have to stop sticking my nose in – trying to play happy families with Julia has blown up in my face, hasn’t it? I should have realised that impressing Julia’s mum wouldn’t actually win me any credit with Julia. And I’m not even sure she actually wants this London job, you know – but she definitely doesn’t want to settle down in Larkford. And I do. I just keep wondering how I’m ever going to get to that place where you are.’
‘Riddled with self-doubt and insecurity? I think you can aim a little higher than that, Dan,’ Holly teased softly.
He gave her a nudge, realising that they were both emotionally fragile today. ‘I just want that feeling that, to somebody, I’m their priority. And you have that, Holly, three times over, whether you choose to see it or not. Me? I’m just part of the window dressing for Julia’s big picture and when she uses the word family, it sounds like an insult.’
‘The F-word,’ supplied Holly. ‘I’ve heard her say it. And maybe when it comes to her childhood, that’s how she genuinely feels. But when you two are together, maybe your word is “team” – same meaning, a world of different connotations.’
‘Good Lord, haven’t you two got patients to be seeing?’ interrupted the Major, as he marched up to them in the graveyard, his terrier Grover bounding ahead to pinch the remains of Dan’s bacon butty. ‘Or is this the unofficial splinter group of the Larkford WI?’
He plonked a bunch of tulips down on his first wife Verity’s grave without much ceremony and came and stood before them. ‘If you’ve nothing better to do, perhaps one of you could take a look at my big toe. Hurts like a bastard.’
Holly couldn’t help but laugh at the Major’s bluff delivery. ‘You can come into The Practice now, remember, Major?’
He blustered a little. ‘Well, yes, I could . . . But old habits et cetera, et cetera and this is so much more convenient – I don’t have to sit around all those ill people . . .’