Chapter 8
Zoe knocked at the front door of Hilltop Farm.
There had already been changes since her last visit, the day she’d helped to move Ann out.
The clutter of the front yard had been cleared away, and the soil was newly turned over.
Some of the trees and shrubs still remained on the outskirts, but piled neatly in a corner of the yard were rolls of new turf and a tiny mountain of golden gravel, presumably waiting to be used to landscape the rest of the garden.
The new owners of Hilltop hadn’t messed around.
The windows – which had been noticeably grubby during Ann’s time – were now clean, as was the front door and step, and there were modern blinds where there had previously been greying nets and faded curtains.
Tugging at the knots in her wind-tangled hair, she idly took in the changes as she waited for someone to answer.
From within, she could hear barking, and then a stern voice that made it stop.
‘Hello…’
She spun back to the door. There he was: well-worn jeans teamed with a brushed shirt in a blue check, open at the neck, sleeves rolled up to expose muscled forearms. His dark hair was messy from being pushed back from his face, and there were flecks of paint in it.
He was clearly in the middle of something, and he ought to have looked scruffy, but the effect was quite the opposite.
‘Hi. I don’t know if you remember, but we met…briefly, when you were looking around a few weeks back. I’m Zoe. I live over there,’ she added, flinging an arm out in the direction of Daffodil Farm.
He showed her a smile that looked like it was draining him of his last reserves. It was nothing like the relaxed and warm one he’d given her during their first meeting. ‘I remember. You live in Kestrel Cottage.’
‘Yes,’ Zoe said, slightly taken aback that he’d recalled quite so much detail. ‘I thought, as we’re neighbours proper now, I’d come over and introduce myself. And I have another…well, I also thought I might be able to kill two birds with one stone. I understand Billie Fitzgerald lives here?’
The tired smile faded, and his expression was cautious now. ‘What do you want her for?’
‘I’m the midwife. Billie’s new midwife. I mean, she’s been referred to me.’
‘Oh, right…you make house calls? At this time of day?’
‘No, not officially. Like I said, I was planning to say hello anyway, and as Billie didn’t show for her appointment today?—’
‘She had an appointment? She didn’t say.’
‘Is she in? I only wanted to see if everything was all right.’
‘Everything is fine. I’ll tell her you called.’
‘About her next app?—’
‘She won’t miss the next one – I’ll talk to her and make sure.’
‘But could I just?—’
‘Thanks for checking on things, but if you don’t mind, I’ve got to?—’
The door closed before he’d finished his excuse. Was it an excuse? It certainly sounded like one.
She paused on the doorstep. She didn’t like it, but she wasn’t sure why.
He’d been pleasant enough, but she’d been in this job long enough to know that not everything could be taken at face value.
In a second, her decision was made. She rapped at the door again.
There was more barking. A moment later, it opened and he reappeared.
‘Was there something…?’
‘I really would like to speak to Billie, if it’s all right with you. Could you tell her I’m here?’
‘I said she wouldn’t miss another appointment.’
‘Yes, but I really need to make contact sooner rather than later, and I’m here…
it’s part of my job, you see, a tick-box thing, you know.
’ She gave a cheerful shrug to make light of the little white lie.
‘I have to say I’ve seen her and all is well, otherwise it’s an outstanding thing in the protocols.
So if she could come to the door, it would help me out ever so much. ’
‘I’m sorry, but she’s asleep, and I’m not going to wake her for your protocols.’
‘Can I come over again tomorrow then?’
‘Couldn’t you make an appointment to see her tomorrow if you’re that desperate?’
‘It’s not that…’ Zoe paused. It wasn’t that simple. ‘Would she come if I did?’
‘I’m not her boss, but I’m sure she would.’
‘You’d bring her down to the surgery?’
‘She’s old enough to bring herself to the surgery.’
‘But it’s important she attends her appointment…you do understand that?’
His jaw tightened. Zoe could see when someone’s patience was wearing thin. ‘Make her one and I’ll march her down to the surgery myself. There, does that satisfy you?’
Zoe held back a frown. ‘Thank you. It won’t be tomorrow; it’ll probably be next week now because?—’
‘Sure, great.’
The door closed again. This time, Zoe’s brow was etched with deep lines of dissatisfaction. Something was going on here. She couldn’t say if it was bad or not, but she was going to get to the bottom of it.
The first thing she did at work the following morning was look for Billie’s phone number. But before she could dial it to reschedule their appointment, the phone rang, and it was Billie herself on the line.
‘Is that the midwife?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Billie Fitzgerald. My dad says you came up to see me yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t come to the clinic. I was…’
The explanation tailed off. Zoe spoke into the gap it left.
‘Pregnancy can be a tiring time, can’t it?
Especially so when you’ve just moved into a new home.
Things aren’t as easy or straightforward as they’d usually be, and we all forget things from time to time, even the best of us. Don’t worry about it.’
‘Yeah. So I guess I need to come down? Like, I definitely need to see you?’
‘Nobody can force you, but I’m sure you understand that it would be better for you and baby if I could keep an eye on things.
Besides,’ Zoe continued, keeping things as light and cheery as possible, ‘I’m new here, and I could do with enough work to persuade the partners I’m worth the salary, so you’d be doing me a favour, really. ’
‘What time?’ Billie asked, and Zoe couldn’t help but note the flatness of her tone.
‘Today? I don’t have?—’
‘When then?’
‘Let me see…’ Zoe clicked through her appointment slots on the computer.
There was no space for that day, but if she skipped lunch, she could make a slot, and she did want to see Billie sooner rather than later.
‘Can you come today at one? The surgery would be closed for lunch, but if you phone when you get here, I could let you in.’
‘OK.’
‘So I’ll see you?—’
The call was ended before Zoe could say goodbye. There was no point in feeling offended – and Zoe dealt with so many different personalities in her line of work that she rarely did. Instead, she dialled reception to let Lavender know the plan.
‘It’s a slippery slope,’ Lavender tutted as Zoe filled her in. ‘You do it once or twice and before you know it everyone’s demanding we open at lunchtime. And then it’s no breaks and backs to the grindstone, lads.’
‘I promise it’ll be just this once. I’d hate to be the person who ends your lunchtime get-togethers.’
‘And it’s moussaka today as well – Simon made it. Well, when I say Simon made it, I expect Stacey did.’
‘Stacey? Oh, right, his girlfriend. He’s not that hopeless, is he?’ Zoe laughed lightly.
‘It’s more a case of him not having time.’
‘Right. So that’s OK then? I’d be ever so grateful if you could save me some moussaka and I’ll stuff it into my face at some point before the afternoon clinic.’
‘See…’ Lavender said, ‘the slippery slope.’
Zoe grinned as she put the phone down.
No sooner had she gone back to look at the morning schedule than there was a knock on the door and Lavender opened it. ‘I’m making coffee, but I can’t tell what’s a mug and what is you.’
Zoe burst out laughing. ‘That’s one way of making your opinion of me clear.’
On finishing her morning list, Zoe checked her phone and saw a text from Ritchie.
It was no surprise, though part of her wished he’d stop doing it.
They’d agreed to remain on good terms as the divorce was going through, but, for her, that didn’t mean almost as many messages as he’d sent to her when they’d been happily married.
How are you settling in? I’ve been thinking about you.
I’d love to come and see where you’re living.
I googled the village – it looks tiny. I can’t imagine what there is to do, but I guess you’re there to work.
I’m decorating here, hope you don’t mind but I thought it would be all right as you’re not coming back, and as soon as we’ve worked out the details, I’m going to be buying you out anyway.
It’s mostly grey. You’d hate it, of course. x
Zoe paused, a vague frown creasing her forehead before she tapped out a reply.
She had to get the wording right because Ritchie tended to read into messages what he wanted to see, regardless of whether it was there or not.
At least, that was how it used to be, and she had no reason to suppose he’d changed since their split.
There had been a time, in the beginning, when she would have been glad to know he was thinking of her during their time apart, but as the months went on, she wished desperately he’d find himself a new partner and move on.
She didn’t want the constant reminders of what she’d lost, no matter how well intentioned they were.
All good here. I’m not quite settled in, but it’s nice and I’m sure I’ll get there.
People are friendly, and the team at the surgery are lovely.
If you’re worrying about me, you don’t need to.
Ottilie is here too, so help is never far away.
Paint whatever you like in the house. You’re right, it’ll be yours soon anyway.
That’s good. You’re not angry that I messaged? x
Of course not. There’s just nothing much to tell. I’m fine, thanks for asking.