Chapter 11
The café was crowded, but they’d managed to find a space near the steam-wreathed windows large enough for Fern to park a sleeping Benji in his pram.
Despite the venue being almost at capacity, service had been quick and a waiter had taken their order soon after they’d sat down.
Only a few feet away from their table stood a spruce tree so large it touched the ceiling, heavy with baubles and tinsel and with a scent so fresh that Zoe, who had never been to a Norwegian forest, felt she now knew exactly how one would smell.
Over the bustle of the café, she could just pick out the strains of background music that sounded like covers of well-known Christmas hits.
Their food arrived surprisingly quickly too, given how busy the place was. As they both tucked in, Zoe didn’t think she’d ever seen Fern eat so much. She’d packed the last of her chicken wings away before Zoe had even eaten half of her starter.
‘Go for it.’ Zoe pushed the plate of tomato-topped bruschetta towards her. ‘I’m saving myself for the main. I don’t know why I order a starter; it always makes me too full, but then when I see them on the menu, they always look so good…’
‘I haven’t been in a fancy restaurant for years.’ Fern crammed one of the bruschetta into her mouth. ‘And I’m starving.’
‘It’s breastfeeding, I expect.’
‘Yeah,’ Fern paused and grinned. ‘I hope so because I’ll get massive if not.’
‘Stop it. You sound like Maisie.’
‘I don’t actually care though, that’s the difference. Why should I be judged by body images that have come from the media? As long as I’m healthy…’
Zoe couldn’t argue with that, though it wasn’t often she heard it said. She took a moment to glance around. It was a chain restaurant, perfectly nice and good for lunch, but hardly what she’d call fancy. ‘I imagine living on the commune there wasn’t much opportunity for this kind of thing.’
‘No money either. Not that I had a lot to spare before then.’ Fern wiped her mouth and smiled at Zoe.
‘Don’t look so worried. It didn’t bother me that I had no money.
You don’t miss what you never had, do you?
You get on with life and enjoy what you have.
Sometimes I was jealous when I saw other people going on holidays and buying cars and stuff, but that wasn’t my life, so what was the point in being jealous?
That was one good thing about the commune – nobody had more than anyone else, so there was no need to be jealous.
It’s funny…’ She paused, looking into the past, perhaps at the version of her that lived there.
‘I wanted out so badly when I first met you, but now that I look back, there were a lot of good things about being there. We all looked out for one another. Since it broke up and the farm is being sold now anyway, I guess it’s a good thing I left when I did.
I’d have had to leave anyway, and at least this way I’m sorted. Thanks to you.’
‘I hardly did anything,’ Zoe said. ‘I put you in touch with the people you needed, that was all. You did the rest.’
‘I’m glad anyway,’ she said, picking up the last piece of tomato on the plate. ‘I never had much, but Benji will. He’s going to have a better life than I did; I’m going to make sure of that. I’ll be the best mum, better than mine was with me.’
Zoe had no doubt Fern meant every word. She loved to see her so motivated.
Every day she was further and further from the shy, uncertain young woman she’d first met, blossoming in confidence and resolve before Zoe’s eyes.
She’d never asked about Fern’s mum, and she couldn’t deny she was mad with curiosity, but she wanted Fern to start that conversation, if they ever had it at all.
She knew as much as anyone, that Fern had broken contact with her family – or perhaps it had been the other way around – and she hadn’t spoken to any of them since.
It was how she’d come to be at the commune – because she’d had nowhere else to go, and they’d taken her in during a time in her life when she’d desperately needed someone to replace the family she’d lost. Regardless of how that episode had ended, Zoe knew Fern would always remember her time with some gratitude because of that.
She also guessed that one of the reasons Fern and Maisie had grown close quickly, along with the proximity and the perfect serendipity of their respective situations that led them to house share, was that Fern might have had a similar upbringing to Maisie.
But unlike Maisie, Fern had left her situation with far more acrimony.
Perhaps Fern’s family life had been far worse than Maisie’s, or perhaps Fern was simply less tolerant.
And in the end, Zoe couldn’t know for sure.
Bridget – Maisie’s mum – was rough and ready, but she wasn’t inherently a bad person.
Her dad she’d never met, but she assumed him to be the same.
She couldn’t know any of that when it came to Fern’s parents.
No sooner had Fern crammed the last of the starters into her mouth than the waitress came and cleared the plates ready for their mains.
Zoe had opted for simple cannelloni with a side salad, and Fern had gone for a pizza topped with as many kinds of meat as the kitchen had and a sprinkling of rocket as the token nod to vegetables.
‘We didn’t have much meat at the commune,’ Fern said. ‘This is amazing… Thank you so much for treating me.’
‘It’s my pleasure. I have to do my bit for the midwife recruitment drive, don’t I?’
Fern grinned as she picked off a slice of peperoni and chewed on it. ‘Sounds like a bribe.’
‘Call it a reward. I’m so pleased you’re even considering it, and any excuse to go to lunch and talk about my job, I’m there.’
‘You don’t have to reward me or anything – I’m so up for it.
I’ve put my name down at the community college for this course that’s like an access thing.
It’s got science and maths and everything in it, so you can use it to get onto the midwife training, and you don’t have to do all the separate ones.
That’s what they said when I asked anyway, so I hope it’s right.
And I can have it for free because I’ve got Benji and I’m on benefits.
’ She got out her phone and showed Zoe a page on the college website. ‘Do you think it will be enough?’
Zoe read the course description. ‘Seems to be a good place to start. Like I said, I’m a bit out of touch when it comes to entry-level training, but it certainly looks more manageable than all the A levels I had to do and perfect for you. And you said they have a creche there?’
‘Yes, and I can have that for free too. It’s brilliant. I can’t wait to start. I’ve missed the September intake, but they said I could join in January.’
‘That soon?’ Zoe cut into her cannelloni. ‘It won’t even be six months since you had Benji.’
‘It won’t be that far off. I don’t know… I’m worried it’s too soon for him? Will he be too little?’
Zoe glanced at the pram, where a sleeping Benji pursed his lips as if dreaming of milk.
‘It used to be that you could only have four months’ maternity leave not so long ago, so I’m sure that’s not the issue.
I’m thinking more of you. It’s an emotional wrench for you to be parted from him at first, and this is a lot of other stuff on top of that. It’ll be tough.’
‘I know, but I want to do it. If I’m going to give him a good life and everything he needs, then I have to get a good job. And I’m excited to start. I’ve never done anything important before.’
‘That’s not true,’ Zoe said. ‘You brought Benji into the world. I’d say that’s pretty important.’
‘I didn’t do a very good job. I nearly cocked it up. I’m sure I would have done without you. I had you when I needed someone to help me through it, and I want to do the same for someone else. I want to help people who need it in the way you helped me. I suppose it feels like a karmic debt.’
‘You don’t owe anyone anything, karmic or otherwise. Noble as your intentions might be to give him a better life and to help other women, you should also want to do it for yourself.’
‘Oh, I do! I think it would be an amazing job! I’ve seen you doing it, and I know I’d love it!’
‘I might be biased because I think it’s the best career in the world, but I hope you’ll love it too. I only worry that you should give yourself time so you’re ready. The training is tough, and so is the job once you qualify, and you have Benji and he’s still so little.’
‘I know.’ For the first time, there was a trace of doubt in Fern’s eyes.
‘That’s not to say I don’t believe you’re capable. You’re more than capable. I just don’t want you to overstretch. You’re young, and you have plenty of time. I know loads of midwives who qualified older than you.’
Fern munched solemnly for a moment but then shook her head.
‘It’ll be fine. I want to do it now. When you think about it, now is the best time because I can have loads of help, like help with the course fees and the creche.
When Benji is older, or if I have to get another job in the meantime – and I will because I don’t have much money – then I might not get so much help, and it might make things harder in the end. ’
‘That’s one way of looking at it, and I can hardly argue with your logic.
Shall I make some calls for you, sound out this course with some of my old colleagues?
They might have suggestions for other ways in too.
I could put you in touch with some of them if you think it would be helpful.
Oh, and there’s Mags too, the lady I told you I’d have a word with…
she’s running a sort of mentorship and support programme to prepare people for what the training and the job will be like, so they have more of an idea about whether it’s really for them or not.
I’m sure it won’t change your mind, but it doesn’t hurt to talk to her, does it? ’
‘I’ll talk to anyone you think will be useful,’ Fern said.