Page 84 of Christmas for the Village Midwife
‘Why would I? I’m not especially religious. I was christened, of course, and all that, but I haven’t been to church…well, apart from a few times, and the last… It isn’t a memory I want to think about.’
‘Right…’ He squeezed her hand to say he understood. ‘If it makes any difference, I know what you mean. My last time in church wasn’t great either. But maybe this will make us both new memories, nicer ones.’
‘I’m hopeful. Who knows? Maybe we’ll have such a good time we’ll become converts, and we’ll want to come to church every Sunday.’
He laughed. ‘Steady on. Let’s start with Christmas carols and see how we go. Anyway, we’ll be too busy to come to church – in the summer, at least, I hope. If I’m not busy, I’ll have done something very wrong with this glamping business.’
‘It’ll be good; I have faith in you. What did Billie say about doing your social media?’
‘She was up for it, as long as she doesn’t have to be in it. So I told her you’d be her star influencer.’
‘You didn’t? Alex!’
‘I didn’t, but I had you going for a minute, admit it! Seriously, though, it might be nice if you wanted to get involved. It would help to have a friendly face on the business.’
‘Put yours on it then.’
‘I would, but yours is prettier. I know which would persuade me to book if I was looking.’
‘I think photos of the hills and lakes will do that just fine.’
‘We’ll see. I might persuade you yet, but I’m going to say that’s a problem for later. Now we’ve got a carol service to get through without laughing.’
‘Or falling asleep.’
‘Right. I can see why Billie didn’t want to come – not exactly the hippest place in town, is it?’
They looked up at the tiny church, warm light flooding from the open doors, candles on stands lining the path and ranged along the windowsills. The vicar’s robes were flapping around his legs in a stiff, icy breeze that had the flames on the candles dancing as he greeted everyone before they filed in. The shrubs at the entrance were all decorated with messages tied to the branches that the villagers had been invited to write and bring with them – messages of hope, of gratitude, of prayers for souls who’d been lost, and for the coming year. Zoe was all at once affected by the sight, despite all their jokes only minutes before. It might not have been the hippest place in town, but it was rather lovely, a flashback of an older, gentler England that had long since gone, or like the Christmas stories she’d read and watched as a child. There was something inviting and comforting about it, like everyone who entered this church today was under some kind of protection. She hadn’t been to church since the funeral for her unborn child, and she hadn’t wanted to – until this very moment.
After a quarter of a year in Thimblebury, Zoe recognised nearly everyone going in, though there was still the odd surprise. She wondered if people travelled in from outside the village to join them – it was a pretty church, after all, and Christmas Eve was often a special occasion for many that provided a moment of spirituality they scarcely felt during the rest of the year. Ifthey had, she had to admire their tenacity because all the reports she’d heard said the roads through the hills and into the village were treacherous now.
‘Have you had your cough sweets?’ Alex asked.
‘Huh?’
‘To get your voice ready for all that singing?’
She smiled. ‘You’re daft.’
‘It’s been said. Come on then.’
Among the surprise attendees were Emilia, Georgia and Brett. Zoe did a double take as, after being greeted by the vicar, she went inside and found them sitting on a pew close to the doors. Given the fuss Emilia had made about Christmas – and not in a good way – and the fact she’d told Zoe earlier that day she had no intention of coming, Zoe was especially surprised to see her there. She wondered if it was simply to keep up appearances in the village, as Fliss would have done, though Emilia hadn’t been all that bothered about appearances since she’d been here. Perhaps some of what Zoe had said had registered with her after all.
She went over with Alex. There was no room to sit with them, otherwise she would have done. Instead, there was an awkward moment where they all said a courteous hello, and then Zoe waited for a conversation to begin that never came. After a few stilted moments, she gave up. ‘Maybe I’ll see you afterwards for the mulled wine.’
‘No wine for us,’ Emilia said with such obvious bitterness that Zoe wondered if she’d heard properly.
Georgia flushed. ‘Hopefully. I won’t be having any, of course, and Em doesn’t drink much, so we might have a quick word with people, but we won’t stay.’
‘I don’t think there’s only wine,’ Alex said. ‘I think there’s going to be hot chocolate and eggnog and that sort of thing.’
‘I’ve got things to do,’ Emilia said. She looked at Georgia. ‘You can stay if you want to, of course.’
So much for the afternoon she’d spent in her company, Zoe thought. She’d left Emilia hopeful they’d bonded somewhat over their shopping trip and the personal things they’d shared, but if they had, it had all been forgotten now. Or perhaps it had never felt that way to Emilia at all.
Georgia gave a small nod but didn’t give any clue either way.
‘So…’ Zoe said into the gap, ‘we might see you later…’
