Page 41 of Christmas for the Village Midwife
Magnus wasn’t the only one acting like aliens had replaced them with a copy. People who were usually calm – not that Zoe knew the wider village all that well – were nervy and short-tempered as they arrived and set up their space. Zoe watched allthe mini dramas unfold – neighbours going to greet one another, gushing praise for their entry followed by a sneaky look that wondered if theirs was better. What was even more interesting was that all this competitiveness was for nothing. The prize, such as it was, was hardly worth having at all. Regardless, she couldn’t deny it was hard not to get caught up in the drama, and Zoe hadn’t yet put her own house on display, choosing to leave it in the box for a while, if only because she didn’t want people coming over to examine it and leaving with a smug, gloating look on their face when they saw she would be no threat at all.
‘You’d think the prize was a million pounds,’ Billie said coolly as she took the lid from a plastic box. She glanced over at Zoe’s, still sealed. ‘Aren’t you going to get yours out?’
‘I will…in a minute.’
‘It’s not that bad,’ Billie said. ‘You made a new one, right? It’s not the one you showed me the other day?’
‘Why?’ Zoe asked with a wry smile. ‘Was the one I showed you that bad?’
‘No, it was good.’
‘Liar.’
‘It was…I mean…so you brought that one?’
‘I didn’t have time to make another.’
‘Oh. Well, it’s fine.’
‘Hmm, I’m not sure the judges will agree, but thanks for trying to make me feel better.’
‘Anyway, I thought you said it was for charity and it didn’t matter.’
‘That was before I got here. Now everyone’s looks way better than mine and I don’t think I like it.’
‘There ought to be a prize for coming last. Or for being the best attempt or whatever.’
‘Like at school when you’d get a gold star for effort in woodwork, even though all the legs had fallen off the chair you’d made?’
‘I never did woodwork.’
‘I bet you were annoyingly good at pretty much everything else though.’
‘I don’t know. You’d have to ask Dad. Can I get a hand with this…? I’m scared I might drop it or knock a bit off.’
‘Yes, of course…’ Zoe helped Billie to lift her creation from the box, giving a low whistle as it emerged. She’d seen one of Billie’s practice runs, and she’d tasted some of her flavour experiments, but this was the first time she’d seen the end result.
‘It looks all right?’ Billie asked.
‘It looks great! You did all this by yourself?’
‘Dad held some bits for me while I stuck it together, but yeah, more or less.’
‘By the way, did Maisie call?’
‘She sent me a message.’
‘And?’
‘It was fine. We might meet up, but it’s all been messages so far.’
‘Right. Do you think you might get on?’
‘Who knows?’ Billie said carelessly. ‘We will or we won’t – no point in stressing about it.’
‘I suppose so. I’d feel better just knowing she had someone other than…well, someone to confide in.’
Zoe decided to close the subject for now. It probably wasn’t the time or the place, though Maisie’s predicament was often on her mind and she’d hoped Billie would have arranged to meet her by now. It was then she turned her attention back to the room and noticed one or two other competitors looking their way. Some seemed surprised to see Billie’s entry, some less than pleased and some merely resigned.
