Page 34 of Christmas for the Village Midwife (The Village Midwife #2)

Victor was running late. Lavender had just locked up the surgery, and everyone had left apart from Zoe, who was still waiting.

Worrying too. Victor didn’t have a mobile phone, of course, so there was no way to get hold of him, and she didn’t want to call the landline at Daffodil Farm just yet, for fear of worrying Corrine if there was no need.

So she leaned against the porch of the locked-up surgery and huddled in her heavy coat as she waited, scrolling through social media on her phone and occasionally looking up to check the sky.

There was more snow in the forecast – though she didn’t know how that was even possible.

‘Hiya!’

She turned at the sound of a familiar voice to see Maisie crossing the lane.

‘Hi, Maisie. On your way home?’

‘Yes.’ She made her way over. ‘I’m glad you’re here – I was going to text you to say I did the thing you asked. You know, with your boyfriend’s daughter. I did it straight away because I didn’t want her to be lonely.’

‘Aww, that’s brilliant. Thanks so much, Maisie. She did say you two had been messaging and you might meet up. Have you seen her then?’

‘Yeah!’ Maisie was flushed, though it seemed that it was about more than the bitter wind trying to pierce Zoe’s coat. ‘She’s really nice.’

‘You got on well?’

‘I think so, yeah. She lived in Spain, you know!’

‘I did know something about that…’

‘And she can even speak Spanish!’

‘I didn’t know that!’ Zoe replied, surprised now that it had never come up in conversation.

‘Her boyfriend died.’

Zoe raised her eyebrows. ‘She told you that?’

Maisie nodded.

Things had moved on more than Zoe had realised. Only a few months before, Billie had been closed and secretive, and it had been a while before she’d confided in Zoe what had happened to Luis in Spain. But here she was, first time meeting Maisie and apparently telling her all about it.

‘It’s so sad for her,’ Maisie continued. ‘No wonder she needs someone to talk to. I told her I’d split up from mine.’

Zoe frowned now. ‘You mean the new one? Not the baby’s dad?’

Maisie nodded again. ‘Yeah, he said he didn’t think he wanted to look after the baby after all. I suppose it’s because it’s not his.’

‘Are you upset?’

‘Not really. I liked him, but…’ Maisie shrugged. ‘If he doesn’t want to be around my baby, then I don’t want to be around him.’

‘I’m glad to see you know your worth. As it should be.’

‘Anyway, Billie says she’ll help me if I don’t get another boyfriend by the time the baby comes. She said we could do it together.’

‘Do what together?’

‘Look after our babies. I was like, do you think our babies will grow up to be friends, and she said they might.’

‘Hold on…you’re going to look after your babies together?’

‘Well, she said she might be able to help me find a job. She said her dad was opening some camping fields or something, you know, with those little huts…and they would probably need someone to work, like cleaning them and stuff, and I said I didn’t have a job, and she said we could both do it and take our babies around with us, and her dad would pay me. ’

Zoe was silent for a moment. While she was pleased to hear the young women had apparently got along famously, the things Maisie was telling her didn’t sound like the sort of things Billie would say.

Especially the bits where she seemed to be planning a future that included the baby she’d said she was going to put up for adoption.

And yet, Maisie must have had these ideas from somewhere.

Had Billie changed her mind? Had Maisie somehow, without knowing any of the facts, changed it for her?

It seemed so unlikely. Zoe hadn’t seriously expected Billie to have much time for Maisie, who was not only younger but a lot more immature, and yet it did sound as if they’d got on.

What she’d asked of Billie as a favour to help keep an eye on Maisie had seemingly been just as beneficial for her.

It was a question Zoe wouldn’t have the answer to until she’d spoken to Billie as well.

‘She made dinner for me too,’ Maisie said. ‘I had lasagne. It was really nice.’

Zoe smiled, pleased to know that those calories, at least, hadn’t been counted by Maisie. ‘She’s a brilliant cook.’

‘Yeah, she said she’d show me how to cook some stuff. I showed her your leaflets, and she said they were crap but she’d show me better things to make.’

Zoe’s smile grew. That sounded more like Billie.

‘She learned to cook in Spain, you know,’ Maisie continued. ‘I bet it’s amazing, living in Spain. No wonder she was sad coming back to England.’ Maisie gave Zoe a bright smile. ‘I’m glad you asked me to meet her.’

‘I’m glad too,’ Zoe said. ‘It sounds as if you’ve cheered her right up.’

‘You think? I mean, she was nice to me, but she didn’t laugh much.’

‘That’s just her way. She’s still sad.’

‘About coming back to England, I guess. And her boyfriend. Her baby is due before mine, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s a shame because if mine had come first, I’d have been able to tell her what it was like to give birth.’

‘She’ll be able to tell you instead.’

‘Yeah, she will.’

‘Are you going to meet up again?’

‘I think so. We didn’t say, but she’ll probably message when she’s free.’

Zoe reached to rub Maisie’s arm with a warm smile. ‘That’s good. I’m really pleased you two have connected.’

At that moment, the quiet of the lane was interrupted by the growing sound of a rough and ready old engine. Zoe recognised it before she saw Victor’s Land Rover turn a corner and come into view.

‘Here’s my lift,’ she said. ‘Will you be all right getting home? I’m sure Victor won’t mind taking you where you need to be.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Maisie said. ‘It’s not that far.’

‘But it’s dark, and the weather’s bad. I’d feel better knowing we’d got you home safe.’

‘But what if my mum sees you?’

Zoe held back a frown. ‘She can’t be mad at me for bringing you home, surely?’

‘No, but…’

Zoe gave a sage nod. Perhaps Maisie had a point. Zoe was sure she wasn’t flavour of the month with Bridget. ‘How about if we drop you somewhere close but not right outside?’

‘I suppose that would be all right,’ Maisie said, though she sounded uncertain.

‘Your carriage has arrived!’ Victor called from the driver-side window.

‘Do you think we can drop Maisie home too?’ Zoe asked.

‘We can do that,’ Victor said with an affable smile. ‘Your parents still at Stonehouse?’ he asked Maisie.

‘Yeah,’ Maisie said. ‘Mum says the only way she’s giving up that house is if she’s carried out in a box.’

‘Well, it’s not a bad spot,’ Victor said. ‘Hop in then, both of you. Corrine’s got tea stewing in the pot up at Daffodil!’

Maisie was suddenly far shyer in Victor’s company, but Zoe loved that he did his best to put her at ease.

He asked after her parents and grandparents and how her pregnancy was progressing and what work she was doing and what her plans were once the baby arrived.

Zoe made the odd contribution to the conversation, but she was happy to let Victor natter.

It sometimes felt too intense when Zoe was talking to her, because it was often about her pregnancy and Zoe’s worries on that score rather than simply learning about Maisie as a young woman independent of the baby she was carrying.

Ten minutes later, Victor turned into a lane that was darker than the road that led into it, cast into gloom by dense trees and a streetlight that blinked on and off.

‘Someone needs to do something about that,’ Victor said as he halted outside a double-fronted house. ‘Here you go,’ he added, turning his gaze to the house and then smiling at Maisie.

Zoe looked at what she presumed was Maisie’s home, hoping Bridget wouldn’t see her.

Victor had laughed at Zoe’s discreet question of whether it would pose a problem for them to be there, saying he knew Bridget of old and she was all bark and no bite, but Zoe had been barked at before by Maisie’s mum, and it had been enough for her to know she didn’t want it to happen again.

However, here she was, and to be silly about it in front of Maisie wouldn’t send a very encouraging message. Maisie had put a lot of faith in Zoe and so she had to at least look like a sensible adult in her presence.

The house would once have been a handsome place, with symmetrical windows either side of a perfectly central front door and a decent-sized garden that was a bit wild with shrubs and trees but still a good outside space.

But even in the dark Zoe could see the house was in a state of disrepair, and it looked as if it had been like that for some time.

There were slates missing from the roof, chunks of rendering gone from the front wall and one of the windowpanes downstairs had been replaced by a square of chipboard.

The presence of an old mattress propped against a rickety lean-to only added to the depressing air of neglect.

If this was the outside, it was a fairly safe bet that the inside wouldn’t be much better.

Zoe’s heart went out to Maisie. Perhaps it didn’t bother her because she didn’t know any differently, but it seemed to Zoe like a miserable place to live.

No wonder her mum, Bridget, was so tetchy all the time.

It was just another thing for Zoe to worry about.

She was no stranger to caring for young mums in unsuitable accommodation in Manchester, but it was a shock to find one here, in the breathtaking beauty of the Lakes.

She hadn’t yet made a home visit to Maisie, but when the time came, Zoe wondered how she’d find it and whether she’d be forced to try and do something about it.

Those situations were hard – nobody wanted to be told their house wasn’t a fit place to bring up a baby, but sometimes it had to be said.

And knowing Maisie’s mum, she wouldn’t take something like that well at all.

‘Thank you,’ Maisie said to Victor. She turned to Zoe. ‘See you soon.’

‘You will,’ Zoe said. ‘And thanks again.’

Maisie smiled. ‘You’re welcome.’

She hopped out of the car and pushed on an already unlocked front door to go inside.

Victor restarted the engine. ‘She’s a lovely little lass,’ he said. ‘Shame about her parents.’

‘I’ve had run-ins with Bridget, but I’ve never met her dad.’

‘Think yourself lucky,’ Victor said, pulling away from the kerb.

‘They can’t be that bad if they managed to raise Maisie. She’s so sweet.’

‘They’re not bad,’ Victor said. ‘But they have some odd ideas. Not very fond of many in the village either.’

‘Oh, so it’s not just me.’

‘No,’ he chuckled. ‘Don’t worry – it’s not just you.’