Page 38 of The Village Midwife
Corrine knocked, and they could hear barking inside the house. Alex seemed puzzled as he opened his front door. Today, he was in an old Aran jumper, with a thread loose at the hem and the beginnings of a hole in one of the sleeves. Zoe had never found Aran jumpers – especially ones with holes – particularly sexy before, but as she took in the sight, the notion popped into her head anyway. That was quickly followed by a second thought – that she took far too much notice of what he wore whenever she saw him, and that, no matter what it was, she always decided it looked good on him.
‘Can I help you, ladies? Is there a problem?’
‘Not at all,’ Corrine said. ‘We’ve brought you a little something.’ She held out the pie dish. ‘It’s a chicken and leek pie. You do eat chicken? You’ll need to warm it up I’m afraid.’
As he took it, he looked more puzzled than he had before. Zoe supposed that two of them randomly turning up with a pie wasrather unexpected. But he pushed a courteous smile across his face. ‘Thank you; that’s very kind of you. Would you like to come in?’
‘We don’t want to keep you from your evening,’ Corrine said, halfway over the threshold even as she did.
‘You wouldn’t be.’
Alex stepped back to let them both in. As they followed him to the kitchen, Grizzle made his presence known with more barking, but it wasn’t aggressive. He proved this a moment later by jumping up at Corrine, his tail wagging like mad. She let out a chuckle.
‘Get down,’ Alex commanded. ‘Come on now, basket!’
Zoe felt almost sorry for the dog, who’d only been excited to see them, as he sloped off to his bed and settled, shooting doleful looks at Alex.
The last time Zoe had been in this kitchen it had been bare, the décor dowdy and in need of a serious refresh, and Ann had been weeping at the thought of leaving it. Alex had clearly wasted no time making it the way he liked. The walls had been painted a rich cream, some new tiles had been put in around the hob and sink, and his furniture was far more modern than Ann’s had been. To Zoe it was somehow sterile, though, lacking in the personality that had said more about Ann and her life than this could ever say about the current owners. It seemed that the mystery of the real Alex was not going to be illuminated by his home – at least, not yet. Perhaps it would in time, when he’d been here longer.
‘Oh, you’ve got it nice,’ Corrine said briskly as she pulled off her boots and left them at the door.
‘You don’t need to do that,’ Alex said, watching her, but Corrine shook her head.
‘Don’t want to tramp a load of mud through your house.’
Zoe then felt obliged to take off her shoes too, and stood in her socks on the stone floor of Hilltop farmhouse, the cold seeping into her feet.
‘Would you like to sit down?’ he asked.
Corrine and Zoe both took a seat at the table.
‘I’m not sure what I’ve got…’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ Corrine said. ‘We didn’t come over to drink all your tea, only to drop the pie in.’
‘Would you like tea?’ he asked, showing her a box of teabags. ‘I can do that. I just don’t have anything more exciting in.’
‘That’d be lovely, if you’re making one,’ Corrine said.
Zoe’s gaze wandered the kitchen for a moment. ‘How’s Billie?’ she asked.
‘She’s fine. She’s upstairs filling in some forms for something or other. She wants to find a job.’
Zoe frowned. ‘But she’s pregnant.’
‘That’s what I said. Not that she can’t do a job, but I doubt anyone will want to employ her until she’s had the baby – they’d have to lose her for maternity leave almost as soon as they’d taken her on. But you can’t tell Billie about anything – she does what she wants. Headstrong, like her mum was.’
‘I’m not lazy…’
All three of them turned to see Billie at the doorway.
‘Were your ears burning?’ Corrine asked.
‘Yeah.’ Billie threw a knowing look at her dad. ‘I’m not headstrong; I’m justnotlazy.’
‘But you are pregnant, and that’s enough work for anyone,’ Zoe said.
‘I’m pregnant; I’m not dead.’ Billie leaned against the door frame and studied them all. ‘I can’t sit around here all day and night doing nothing – I’ll go mad.’
