Page 1 of Christmas for the Village Midwife
1
The tiny Cumbrian village of Thimblebury was on the countdown to Christmas. That morning, Thimblebury’s midwife, Zoe, had turned the page on her calendar to December, and she was currently trudging down rows of snow-dusted firs with her boyfriend, Alex, looking for the perfect Christmas tree. The lines ran for miles, dozens and dozens of them, and beyond those, the windswept hillside dropped away to reveal a vista of gentle peaks and cavernous valleys, the majestic scenery of the Lake District, all white with early snow. She watched as her breath curled into a crystalline sky. A gap in the weather had brought intense sun and a cloudless horizon, but the forecast promised it wouldn’t last for long and that more snow would be on the way. Despite being bright, it was bitterly cold, freezing the drifts beneath her feet so that they cracked and crunched as she walked.
‘You wouldn’t think it would be so hard to choose a Christmas tree,’ she said as her gaze returned to the row. ‘It’s a tree, after all. They all look sort of…’
‘Like trees?’ Alex asked.
‘I was going to say they all look basically the same – trunk, branches, needles. So how is it I like some more than others? Surely we ought to be able to walk over to the first one and go,Right, that looks about the size – we’ll take it.’
‘You wouldn’t hear any objections from me if that’s the way you want to do it.’
‘And do you think it’s a bit frivolous? Us buying two, I mean. I think we ought to get one for your house and leave it at that. Work’s so busy, I’ll hardly be home to look at mine.’
‘I want to buy you a tree.’
‘I don’t need you to buy me a tree. I mean, it’s a lovely idea, but I really don’t. In all honesty, no tree at all is still better than what I had last year.’
‘What did you have?’
‘Some naff old plastic thing Ritchie’s aunt had given to us when we first got married.’
‘And that’s precisely why I want you to have one this year. It’s your first year in Kestrel Cottage.’
‘I suppose so. In that case, I’m going to do Christmas lunch at mine. You and Billie can come over. That way, you both get a break, and we can all enjoy this tree you’re insisting on buying for me.’
‘Youneed a break too. You’ve barely stopped over the last couple of months, at work and out of it.’
‘Well, if there are no babies, then there’s no job, so I’m not going to complain about being busy.’
‘Even so. Too busy if you ask me. Too much taking work home and, from a selfish point of view, not nearly enough time with me as I’d like.’
‘You’re unhappy about that?’
‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want us to see one another more, but I would never ask you to put me before your work. I know how important it is to you. As for Christmas, I want for you whatyou want for me. It’s our first together. I want it to have good memories. I don’t want to become that plastic tree your ex’s aunt gave to you, something that makes you grumble in ten years’ time when you think of it.’
‘That’ – Zoe took his hand and offered a bright smile, caught in the worlds of his soft brown eyes; she still felt giddy whenever she gazed into them, and she didn’t think that would ever change – ‘would never happen, tree or no tree. I only mean it seems a waste of money that you could be spending elsewhere.’
‘Let me treat you, please. I want to. I’ve got to build new Christmas memories too. This is where I start.’
Zoe paused and then let out a resigned breath. How could she deny him that? He’d lost his wife around this time of year a few years previously, and he’d often spoken of his struggles in the short time Zoe had known him. However Zoe felt about the two-tree scenario, she had to admit that, in the end, it was only money. What the tree represented was a lot more significant than what it might cost.
‘This one’s nice,’ he said, leading her to a slender, symmetrical specimen. I think it’s about the right shape for the corner of your living room. That’s where you’re going to put it, right? By the window?’
‘It seems the most sensible place to put it,’ Zoe agreed as she pondered the tree. Itwaslovely, and she couldn’t deny that she’d asked Ritchie for a real one almost every year they’d dragged the old plastic thing from the loft, only to be told he didn’t see the point when they already had something that would do the job.
Do the job. That was Ritchie’s attitude to everything. It didn’t matter if it was right or not, as long as it did the job. Since their split, Zoe had begun to see that she’d fallen into that category too, a wife who wasn’t perfect but would do the job. He’d pursued her to a point, even when she’d made it clear they werethrough, and for a while Zoe had believed the motivation for that had been love, but since their last meeting, when she’d finally put him straight, she’d come to see it hadn’t been about love at all. She’d been the plastic Christmas tree, and he’d only wanted her because he didn’t see the point in making the effort finding someone new would require.
‘That one then?’ he asked.
Zoe nodded. ‘What about yours? Shouldn’t we have brought Billie to look with us?’ she added, troubled, and not for the first time that day, by the notion that his daughter hadn’t come. She’d made a comment about not third-wheeling her dad, and though Alex had been content to leave it at that, Zoe wasn’t convinced that staying away was actually what Billie had wanted. ‘Maybe you should come back with her. We could just take mine for now.’
‘She said?—’
‘I know what she said,’ Zoe cut in. ‘I don’t know that she meant it. She probably felt she’d be in the way, but I bet she would want to come and choose. Like you said, we all need new Christmas memories, and maybe Billie needs them more than both of us.’
He smiled down as he smoothed a lock of dark hair behind her ear. ‘How are you so good at this stuff?’
‘I don’t know about that.’
