Page 93 of The Village Midwife
‘Yes. They’re at the cider stand. Dennis is buying Laurel her first alcoholic drink – she’s eighteen today. Not that she’s never had alcohol, of course. I mean, what eighteen-year-old having their first official drink has actually never drunk alcohol before?’
‘And she wanted to come here on her birthday? Not that it’s not fun, but it’s a bit…’ Zoe couldn’t think of a word that would convey her meaning without it being an insult, so she gave up.
‘She’s going out with her friends later for the proper, cool celebration. She’s always been a home bird really, loves being with her family, though she’d never admit it. I wanted to say…’ Tegan continued. ‘It’s OK. What happened…it happened for a reason – I really believe that. I don’t blame you or anyone else. I’m too old to start again. I was upset at the time, of course, and I’m still sad about it now, but when I sit down and think about it, life would have changed so much for me and Dennis and the kids, and I don’t know if it would have been a good thing. Maybe, but I’ll never know, and I think I’m happy to leave it at that. Dennis is going to get a vasectomy. He doesn’t want this to happen again, and I’m with him on that.’
From nowhere, Zoe’s eyes misted with tears. She tried not to get emotionally involved with the mums in her care. Shewanted to do her best by them, of course, and she felt that befriending them was always the way to do that, but she firmly believed there had to be a barrier so she didn’t let them get too close. Tegan, right now, was crossing that barrier with far too much ease. Talking to her brought back memories of her own loss, memories she always tried to push down when she was a midwife. And though she was off duty, she considered herself to be a midwife right now. Despite this, she’d needed to hear what Tegan had to say; she just hadn’t realised it until this moment.
‘How many tickets would you like?’ she asked, sniffing hard as they reached the surgery table. It was lucky the others were all busy in other conversations or they’d have wanted to know why Zoe looked so upset. Tegan noticed, however, and put a hand on her arm.
‘I never blamed you.’
Zoe nodded, tears squeezing out against her will, and she sniffed harder still in a desperate attempt to stem the tidal wave of emotion she could feel building. This was not the time or place, and yet it felt like it could be such a welcome release. ‘Thank you,’ she managed to squeak before pulling a fresh book of raffle tickets from a box and holding them up.
‘I’ll take a couple of pages,’ Tegan said, saving Zoe the trouble of trying to speak, which was lucky because she didn’t think she was able.
Once the transaction was complete, Tegan went back to her family, and Zoe wondered whether she’d ever have cause to see her again.
25
Despite indulging in more than one slice of cake from Corrine’s stall, plus her rogue donut and two lattes, Zoe was still hungry as lunchtime arrived. She packed away her raffle tickets and announced her intentions at the surgery fundraising table, shouting over the sounds of the brass band who had now launched into a medley of soundtracks from eighties blockbuster films.
‘I’m going to get some lunch, and then I’ll draw the raffle numbers. Anyone want me to get them anything?’
‘I’ve eaten,’ Fliss said.
‘I’m all good too,’ Simon chipped in before being distracted by old Mrs Icke, who wanted to complain about something or other.
‘What are you having?’ Lavender asked.
‘Not sure. I like the look of that van selling Nepalese food.’
‘No, thanks,’ Lavender said. ‘I’ll probably grab a pasty later.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Ottilie said.
Zoe waited while she got herself organised, and then they walked together to the van.
‘Oh my gosh!’ Ottilie pointed to a line of around twenty small children, ranging from perhaps four or five to ten, walking in pairs and dressed in Tudor clothes. Not exactly Tudor, of course, but clearly as close as their parents or teachers had been able to find. What they might lack in historical accuracy was more than made up for in cuteness. They were all waving at a crowd that was rapidly distracted from whatever else they’d been doing to watch them.
Zoe smiled. ‘They’re so adorable!’
‘I wonder if they’re going to put on a little show or something.’
A few feet away, Zoe noticed Stacey with Mackenzie in a pushchair. She waved and then grinned, pointing at the children. Zoe and Ottilie both grinned back, Ottilie nodding with enthusiasm.
‘I’m going to have a quick word with Stacey; shall I catch you up?’
Zoe wondered whether to take this opportunity to speak to Alex. But as her gaze found him, watching the children in their period costumes, he seemed far from warmed by the sight. In fact, he looked as if he felt nothing. Zoe couldn’t help a deep frown.
‘What’s wrong?’ Ottilie said.
Zoe turned to her. ‘I don’t know. Something weird is going on.’
‘With him?’ Ottilie angled her head at Alex, and Zoe nodded. ‘Want to go and see what it is?’
‘I’m not sure he wants to talk to me.’
‘Why? What have you done?’
