Page 22 of Christmas for the Village Midwife
‘I was in the village for other things so decided I would come to bring this,’ Yana said, whipping out a large gift bag and offering it to Zoe. ‘It’s a small thank you for your help.’
‘Ah, I didn’t do all that much,’ Zoe said, taking the bag and peering inside. ‘You did the hard work.’
‘You kept Denys calm – that’s hard work too.’
‘Chocolates!’ Zoe said, closing the bag again. ‘Thank you! I’ll share these with the gang at lunch; I’m sure they’ll go down well. I’d love to chat, but…’
‘Of course.’ Yana smiled. ‘You’re busy.’
‘I’ll see you next week, and if all’s well, I can discharge you.’
‘Denys is going snippety snip,’ Yana said drily, ‘so if all is well there, you won’t see me again – not for babies, at least. I think six is enough.’
‘Far be it from me to tell you what to do, but six is more than I could cope with, so I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to call it a day. Thank you for the chocolates, and take care going home, won’t you?’
Yana left, and as Zoe went to fetch Gemma, the door to the surgery opened again, and one of her young expectant mums, Maisie, came in with her mother, Bridget, both treading snow into the waiting room and causing Lavender, watching from her desk, to tut loudly.
‘Hello.’ Zoe smiled at Maisie, though it faltered as her gaze went to Maisie’s mum. The last time they’d crossed paths at the village quincentenary celebrations, it hadn’t exactly gone well. In fact, that was the understatement of the year. Bridget had torn a strip off Zoe, and in defending her, Fliss had threatened to take action against the family that included sanctioning their care. ‘I’m not due to see you, am I?’
‘No,’ Maisie said. ‘I’ve come with mum.’
‘Seeing the doctor about my polyps,’ Bridget said, ‘not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Right,’ Zoe said, the irony of Bridget’s statement not escaping her. ‘That’s all right. I wondered if there’d been a mix-up somewhere.’ She was about to leave them to it when something occurred to her. And once she’d noticed, she couldn’t help but be bothered by it. ‘Everything is OK with you, though?’ she asked Maisie.
Bridget immediately snapped a reply in her daughter’s stead. ‘What’s that mean?’
‘It was a general query,’ Zoe said. ‘It didn’t mean anything apart from being polite. You’ve got your twenty-week scan coming up soon, haven’t you?’ Zoe asked Maisie.
‘Don’t you know?’ Bridget shot back.
Zoe resisted the urge to give an answer loaded with sarcasm and painted on a courteous smile. ‘Not off the top of my head, no.’
‘It’s next week,’ Maisie said.
‘That’s good.’ Zoe shot a glance to where Gemma seemed content to continue scrolling on her phone. She was one of her less troublesome charges; even so, it was rude to keep her waiting. However, Zoe was convinced she needed a chat with Maisie sooner rather than later because the more she saw, the more concerned she was. ‘Listen, I’ve got a lady waiting, but if you’re still here after I’ve seen her and if your mum doesn’t mind’ – she glanced at Bridget, who simply glared at her – ‘I’ll have a quick word with you about how to prepare for it. I think you might find it useful.’
‘What’s to prepare?’ Bridget asked. ‘She goes, they scan her, that’s it, done.’
‘It’s not quite that simple,’ Zoe said.
Maisie nodded, shooting a wary look from her mum to Zoe and then back again, as if she couldn’t decide who it was less scary to upset.
‘Only if you’re here and it’s no trouble,’ Zoe repeated. ‘Otherwise, I’m sure the ultrasound department will send you instructions.’
It was a ruse. Bridget seemed suspicious enough that she might be able to tell, but Bridget, from what Zoe knew of her, was suspicious of everyone’s motives in most things. Zoe didn’t know if her plan would work, or even if it was necessary, but years in the job had given her a nose for problems, and her nose was going mad right now. She only needed a few minutes with Maisie alone to satisfy one way or the other whether she felt any intervention was needed.
‘OK,’ Maisie said finally. She and her mum continued on to the desk to book in with Lavender, and Zoe went to get Gemma.
‘I’m so sorry you’ve had to wait,’ she said.
Gemma looked up from her phone. ‘What?’
‘Sorry you had to wait.’
Gemma gave a careless shrug and got up from her seat, her other baby fast asleep in the sling strapped to her front. Zoe smiled at the little one, unbothered by anything going on around him, and decided nonchalance must be in the genes.
Luckily, Gemma was Zoe’s last appointment of the morning, and fifteen minutes later she went back into reception to see Maisie was there without her mum. She seized her chance.
