Page 37 of Christmas for the Village Midwife (The Village Midwife #2)

The sun was a few hours from setting, but the hills were gloomy as Emilia drove towards Windermere.

Gloomy but still beautiful, Zoe reflected as she gazed out of the passenger-side window, like a scene from a gothic classic, snowy peaks scarred by dark cracks and heavy skies pushing down on them.

There had been no new snowfall since the previous night, though it had been forecast. Zoe wondered how there could possibly be any more on the way – surely it must end soon?

One thing was for certain, they’d get their white Christmas.

Emilia drove without speaking, and she didn’t put the radio on.

They’d shared some sporadic comments on the weather and the current state of the roads but nothing any deeper than that.

Zoe, though, could tell something was bothering her.

Emilia was always serious, but this was more than that.

She thought about asking, but it didn’t seem as if Emilia wanted to talk.

Perhaps Lavender’s antagonism was getting to her.

Or perhaps she was beginning to regret taking the job at Thimblebury surgery.

She’d come from Manchester, and it was only natural that some would welcome the slower pace, and some wouldn’t.

Zoe knew from experience that either way, going from a huge bustling city like Manchester to a tiny village out in the wilds was a culture shock.

Then again, it could be any number of things.

‘I’ve got quite a lot to get,’ she said into the silence. ‘I hope that’s OK. I know the shops will probably close early, but I’m hoping I can get everything before they do. So I’ll probably let you go and do what you need to and meet you back at the car park.’

‘That’s fine by me,’ Emilia said. ‘How long do you reckon you’ll need?’

‘As long as you can give me, really. Of course, we have the carol service later, so we’ll have to be back in time for that.’

‘I’ll make sure to have you back for that.’

‘You’re not going?’

‘I doubt it.’

‘But it’s the one thing everyone in the village goes to. Almost everyone. So Lavender tells me.’

‘I’m sure Lavender thinks it’s very important. She’s quite a Christmas fan.’

‘When it comes to the carol service, the whole village seems to join in. Fliss used to, apparently. As the village GP, she felt she had to show her face every once in a while, especially to big events. Or rather, only big events. Other than those, she mostly kept to herself.’

‘Sounds sensible to me.’

‘So you might come?’

‘I’d rather keep an eye on Georgia.’

‘But she’s going? I’m sure last time I mentioned it, she said she would.’

‘She hasn’t said anything to me. I should imagine it depends on what Brett wants to do.’

Zoe didn’t think it ought to matter what Brett wanted to do – if Georgia wanted to attend, then she ought to be able to, regardless. But she also recognised that things might not be that simple, given what she now knew about their situation and Brett’s issues.

‘An hour wouldn’t kill anyone, would it? I think it would do you all good to get out.’

‘Do you?’ Emilia shot her a wry half-smile before turning back to the road.

‘It isn’t good for anyone to cut themselves off from everyone around them. People want to get to know you.’

‘Well, as long as they get what they want, it doesn’t matter what I want, does it? I suppose I can’t say I wasn’t warned when I took the job.’

Zoe paused and then decided she’d had enough of the cryptic clues. ‘Do you really hate this village so much? Has it been such a bad move for you?’

Emilia’s eyebrows went up. She didn’t answer for a full thirty seconds, and just when Zoe had resigned herself to the most awkward car ride she’d ever had, she finally spoke.

‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s not that, and if I’ve given that impression, I can only apologise. Things have been difficult.’

‘I know; Georgia told me.’

‘Not only for her. I love my job, and perhaps that’s why I take it too seriously. It also feels like the only thing I have left that’s worthwhile in my life.’

‘Why?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know that this is the time to talk about it.

All I can ask at the moment is that you understand, perhaps make some allowances for me.

If I’m obstructive, I don’t mean to be. The only sense of worth I have these days comes from how good a doctor I can be.

If people can let me have that, I’ll find my way back eventually. ’

Zoe was thoughtful, and the car plunged into silence once more.

Where did Emilia need to find her way back from?

It was one more mystery. Was it because of the split from her husband?

It might be, but Emilia didn’t seem like the sort of woman to let a thing like that get to her.

Unless it had been somehow traumatic? Or perhaps she’d loved him more than she’d even let on to Georgia, who hadn’t seemed overly worried when she’d shared her thoughts with Zoe some weeks before.

After a few minutes, she spoke again. She’d been thinking over what Emilia had said about her job and had a sudden epiphany about so much that had gone on over the previous weeks.

‘Did you get to see your urgent patient today?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you told him the bad news?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did he take it?’

‘How you’d expect.’

‘Hmm. Do you think Lavender might have been right? That it might have been better to let him have his Christmas first?’

‘Would you want that? He’d had his tests on the two-week pathway, so he already knew there was a possibility for bad news.

He’d be waiting to hear, and all sorts of disasters would be preying on his mind.

Do you think he’d have had a happy, relaxing Christmas if I hadn’t told him the results?

At least he knows now. He can make his last Christmas with his family count in whatever way he feels matters to him and them.

No, I don’t think I should have let him have his Christmas first. I think I’ve made sure it’s the most important Christmas he’s ever had. ’

Zoe had no response to Emilia’s statement.

She didn’t know what she’d do, or whether she felt it right or wrong, but she understood perfectly Emilia’s logic.

She also felt she was beginning to understand Emilia herself in a way she never had, by the things she did rather than what she said.

She wasn’t trying to upset Lavender by being so resistant to the Christmas decorations and music and all that other seasonal stuff; she was worried that it would be a distraction from what she felt really mattered, the thing that they were all there for – the patients.

Lavender and Emilia disagreed about what the patients needed, and that was the problem as far as Zoe could see.

Lavender felt they needed humanity and connection and all the things that gave them a sense of security in belonging, but Emilia saw those things as unnecessary, putting her faith in procedures and knowledge and science, in cold, hard facts and difficult choices.

If only there was a way to make both of them see that they were on the same side, but if there was, Zoe suspected it would take a better woman than her to find it.

Coloured lights cut through the gloom of the high street, shining from every shop window, hanging from lampposts and trimming doorways.

A brass band was playing in the market square, and a Santa was waving at children from a sled parked a short distance away.

Windermere was far livelier than Thimblebury – though that wasn’t difficult.

The main road through the town was lined on either side by terraces of pale stone with brightly coloured eaves and awnings that might once have been homes but were now mostly shops and restaurants.

Some were clad in the Victorian mock Tudor style with little turrets like mini Bavarian castles, but all were lit warmly from within.

From the high street, it wasn’t possible to see the lake, but Zoe, as she walked from the car park with Emilia, decided she’d take a stroll on the shore before they went back to Thimblebury, if she could squeeze it in, certain that it would look magical, the lakeside cafés and hotels decorated for Christmas and blanketed in snow.

As the shops came into view, they made arrangements to give it three hours and then meet up again for the drive home.

Zoe was doubtful it would be enough time, but she was also aware that it was about all she had if she was going to make the carol service.

They had one another’s numbers if they needed more or less time, and so they left it at that and went their separate ways.

Zoe had visited two shops when the smell of roasting chestnuts reached her from a vendor parked near the main festivities.

She was suddenly hungry and hadn’t had roasted chestnuts for years, and though she didn’t really have the time to stop and eat properly, she could stave off the pangs with a bag of those.

And so she dashed over and bought some, and was munching rapidly when her attention was caught by the window of a coffee shop.

Sitting at one of the tables was Emilia, leaning in to talk to a man.

Zoe hadn’t meant to stop and stare, but she couldn’t help it.

There was something in their body language that was a little off.

Troubled, she’d call it, perhaps accusatory.

Was this her ex? He was waving his hands around as he spoke, staring her down, while she was measured, as she always was, but her whole body was taut, sprung like a coil welded together, a tension that would never be released.