Page 5 of Christmas for the Village Midwife
‘It’s really good of you,’ she said as he opened the door of his old Land Rover for her.
‘You’d never make it in your car,’ he said cheerily. ‘And it’s no bother for me. Old Banger will make short work of the snow; she always does.’
It was lucky that Zoe had only one home visit to Yana on her list for that day and she could walk to her house if worse came to worst. She wasn’t sure how she was going to cope if more came up later that week and the weather was still bad. She hated to cancel anyone but realised she might have to at least postpone one or two who lived further out until the roads were clear again. Hopefully that wouldn’t be long.
‘Never seen anything like this.’ Victor started the engine. ‘I’ve seen snow here man and boy, of course, but I can’t remember the last time I saw it this bad and for this long.’
‘At least it’s not a regular thing then,’ Zoe replied. ‘I love snow, but I don’t know if I could do this every winter.’
‘I’m with you there, lass.’ Victor yanked the gearstick and the car juddered, tossing Zoe so violently to one side she wondered if she’d have whiplash by the time they made it down the hill.
‘Could you drop me outside the shop? I need to get a few supplies before I go to work. I can manage from there.’
‘Whatever you like.’
There was a pause. Zoe couldn’t help but smile because she was getting used to this pause, and she was beginning to recognise what it meant.
‘Seen much of Alex?’ Victor asked idly.
‘Yes,’ Zoe said, her smile growing. Victor loved to pretend he didn’t gossip, but he was as interested in her new romance with Alex as everyone else. Perhaps more since he and Alex had become good friends. ‘Quite a lot, actually.’
‘Ah. So it’s…’
‘Going well,’ Zoe finished for him. ‘So far.’
‘Of course,’ he said gruffly. ‘Early days and all.’
‘Exactly. Early days. But I like to think we’re off to a good start.’
A better start, she’d have said, but she didn’t want to go over their rocky introduction with anyone who didn’t already know about it. The fact was that anyone who’d witnessed Zoe and Alex’s first few weeks from close quarters would have bet against them ever exchanging a civil word, let alone romance. It was funny, Zoe had reflected more than once, that life, as her grandma always said, could turn on a sixpence.
Wherever Zoe went, the same conversation was being had about the snow in wondrous tones. Some were happier than others, depending on how fond they might be of sledding or tubing or cross-country skiing, or hiking in snowshoes, or any of the other things people who often had lots of snow liked to do. Magnus, co-owner of Thimblebury’s shop, being Icelandic, was rather nostalgic and very stoic about it all. The record-breaking snow currently falling on the Lake District reminded him of home, and he couldn’t see what the fuss was about. Zoe could tell he was secretly enjoying the fuss anyway but not quite as much as he enjoyed telling people that snow wasn’t nearly the obstacle to everyday life they all seemed to think it was. According to Magnus – who had no commute to his place of work, a nice electric heater at his feet behind the counter and an endlesssupply of tea brought to him by his partner, Geoff – snow was no issue at all if you simply found sensible solutions to it.
‘Easy for you to say,’ Flo huffed as Zoe leaned on the counter, checking the emails on her phone as she waited for her turn to be served. She’d been there with enough time to go through quite a lot because Flo had much to get off her chest, mostly about how neglected she was.
Zoe couldn’t help but smile to herself as she caught snatches of the conversation, scrolling her messages with the absent patience of someone who was too tired to worry about it. And Flo was far from neglected – Zoe’s friend and colleague at the surgery, Ottilie, made sure of that. She and her partner – Flo’s grandson, Heath – went out of their way to look after her – not that anyone listening to Flo would know it.
‘I could fall over in that snow and freeze to death and nobody would find me,’ she said, pursing her lips like she was eating a lemon.
‘Are you thinking of painting yourself white then?’ Magnus asked with a subtle, blithe humour that Zoe had come to recognise since her arrival in the village.
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Flo snapped.
‘Well, I wondered how you wouldn’t be seen in the snow. But then I thought, if you were painted white, then it would be camouflage. So I wondered if that was your plan.’
Flo narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I can leave if you’re going to be like that.’
‘It’s only a little tease,’ Magnus said but looking somewhat sheepish with it.
‘It’s not fair, teasing an old lady for being afraid for her life. That’s what’s wrong with the world these days – no respect. No care for others. Everyone’s a comedian at someone else’s expense…’
‘I’m sorry,’ Magnus said, though he didn’t sound all that sorry to Zoe. ‘If I’m walking around, I’ll be sure to keep a look out in case you are lying in the snow. I’ll make sure Geoff does the same.’
Flo looked cynical but then seemed to decide that was the end of that particular conversation. ‘Have you got my cheese in? The apple one?’
‘Sorry, Flo, not yet.’
‘You haven’t had it in for weeks!’
