Chapter 48
The following afternoon, Holly waved the Preggie Protesters off with a smile, and a certain amount of relief. Mims hung back for a moment, Baby Hallow – as yet unnamed - in a papoose on her chest. Elsie’s kitchen had apparently become the unofficial HQ for the Preggie Protesters, even though both Mims and Emily Arden now had babes in arms.
‘Bloody hell, that’s a lot of hormones in one room!’ exclaimed Mims with feeling. ‘Are we sure this is a good idea?’
Holly laughed, the exact same thought having occurred to her an hour earlier when they’d all turned up on her doorstep. ‘Well, there’s no harm in a bit of solidarity, is there? So long as nobody eats the last Hobnob, I’m good!’ Holly’s hunger appeared to have ramped up exponentially and it seemed improbable that her bump could actually accommodate two babies growing at this rate for long.
‘I quite like that we still get to make a contribution, though,’ Holly continued. ‘When Cormack said I had to cut back my hours at The Practice, it seemed such a sensible solution, but I’m seriously missing the interaction already.’
Okay, so she was massively playing down her overly emotional reaction to this plan. Since Grace had found another gear of determination and Chris had thrown all caution to the winds, there was no shortage of ammunition accruing; if only they knew what to do with it for best effect. Being at home, even for half of each day, felt like the train was leaving the station without her.
But Cormack O’Brien had been firm and no-nonsense with his patient – unless Holly wanted to invite another episode of pre-eclampsia, she was sidelined for this one, at least in theory.
Mims nodded. ‘I get that. But it’s also good to have a little nesting time. New house; new beginnings. When are you moving in properly?’
It was a simple enough question and one that Holly should have been able to answer, but there was a wealth of confusion behind it. She’d been secretly glad that the paperwork for Sarandon Hall was taking such an age; the prospect of living in Elsie’s house without Elsie already felt slightly weird. The fact that Elsie had pinned the legal transfer of deeds to Holly’s headboard the night before had really brought home the magnitude of Elsie’s gift. No matter how often she looked at it, though, Number 42 would for ever be Elsie’s in Holly’s mind.
It wasn’t a conversation she could really have with Jemima Hallow, however.
‘Soon,’ she dodged with a smile. ‘Probably after all this auction business is over and done with.’ Mims was a lovely friend, a baby friend, and Holly hoped that their friendship would go from strength to strength, but right now she was a new friend. And what Holly needed was wise counsel from someone in the know.
Baby Hallow kicked it up a gear and Mims regretfully said goodbye.
Holly slipped her phone from her pocket, almost on autopilot, unwilling to spend too much time in actual thought. ‘Hey, Lizzie? Fancy coming for a cuppa? I feel like a spare tit at a wedding over here.’
Lizzie’s guttural laugh echoed down the line. ‘Give me five or ten minutes and I’ll be there. Get the kettle on. Your pad is much nicer than mine these days.’
Holly looked around her and couldn’t help but agree. There was something about Elsie’s house that drew people in like a magnet, and it was increasingly becoming the centre of their social circle. She could quite understand how difficult Elsie had found it when her own core alliances had shifted their attentions to Sarandon Hall; her drawing room no longer echoing with laughter, conversation and the inevitable clink of crystal glassware.
She breathed out slowly, trying to follow Cormack’s advice to allow some thoughts to simply pass. Just because she thought something, apparently, didn’t mean she needed to engage with it and allow herself to get worried – it was almost as though he had never met her before!
Holly duly put on the kettle and made the twins a picnic tea, wrapping their food in greaseproof paper and popping the small parcels into a tiny wicker basket. Ever since watching Heidi, they’d been obsessed with acting out scenes in the garden. Picnic time was their all-time favourite. Right now, though, Ben and Tom were lying on their backs as the clouds scudded past in an otherwise azure sky. Their cloud-spotting games were becoming increasingly more anatomical and Holly laughed aloud as she settled down beside them and began doling out crusty bread and slices of ham and cheese, Alpine-style. The babies shifted restlessly in her tummy, as though the sugar hit from the Toblerone she’d virtually inhaled earlier had got them dancing, and she glanced repeatedly at the side gate, poised for Lizzie’s arrival.
She untangled her looping bracelet from the handle of the basket, one of the most beautiful wedding gifts she’d received, all the more so as it had been made with such loving care by Alice herself. Holly couldn’t help thinking that, with creativity like that, Alice might actually be wasted as a doctor. The question as to whether her young colleague was experienced enough to step up when Holly went on maternity leave was one she didn’t dare address right now, for fear of giving her blood pressure an unwelcome boost.
‘Coo-ee!’ called Lizzie, as she pushed open the garden gate, doing her best impression of a nutty neighbour. ‘Anyone for pavlova?’ She wore a Pucci-print kaftan, oversized sunglasses and supported a vast confection on the palm of her hand.
Holly burst out laughing. ‘Oh you are a card! Have you been at the gin again? Abigail’s Party eat your heart out!’
Lizzie pushed back the sunglasses and grinned. ‘What d’you think? Elsie took me shopping! Too much?’
Definitely too much, but then by default, absolutely perfect, thought Holly, standing up and pulling her friend into an enormous hug.
‘Steady there,’ said Lizzie. ‘Let a girl put down her pavlova before you start taking liberties. Now, what’s the matter with you?’
Holly shook her head. ‘Nothing. I just wanted to see you.’
Lizzie raised one perfectly pencilled eyebrow. ‘Hmm . . .’
Eric had trotted sweetly at Lizzie’s side across the garden, sitting down neatly beside her as they said their hellos, with no need for a lead or encouragement.
‘Dear God, how did you do that?’ Holly asked, intrigued, as she clocked this unusual display, well used to being dragged around the town by Eric on a mission.
Lizzie grinned. ‘Aha! I’m glad you noticed. Jamie took pity on me and gave him one-on-one tuition. He reckons that if I apply the same skills to Will, I’ll have him picking up his pants off the floor in no time.’
‘Are you high?’ Holly asked, genuinely perplexed, as she broke off a chunk of pavlova without ceremony and popped it into her mouth.
Lizzie looked delighted to have found a captive audience. In fact, by the time she’d shared Jamie’s pearls of wisdom about how you could train your husband in much the same way as you trained your dog, they were both laughing like drains.
‘So, I just ignore any unwanted behaviour and reward him for anything good?’ Holly clarified, sitting down heavily on the kitchen sofa and plonking her feet up on the ottoman, a plateful of pavlova now balanced on her bump for easy access.
‘So, last night, when Will put the bins out, I offered him a beer. When he left all the plates on the dining table, I ignored it and went to have a bath. I think he might be a work in progress, though, because Eric had, er, prewashed all the plates by the time I came downstairs.’
Holly snorted, knowing only too well Eric’s love of a good curry. Strange dog, but oh she did love him. She couldn’t help wonder how he was going to adapt to two more pairs of tiny hands pulling at his ears and tail. As if in answer to her private concerns and feeling her gaze upon him, he trotted over and lay beside her on the sofa, resting his head on her bump, ears cocked as though he could hear little noises that were beyond the scope of her own hearing. He jolted up after a moment, shocked and surprised at the hearty boot he’d received to his chin, before curling up tightly beside her, guarding her unborn progeny.
‘Well, it looks like we can just hire Eric as the nanny,’ Holly joked, stroking the downy fur behind his ears.
‘Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do about that?’ Lizzie asked. ‘Nanny or locum? I’m presuming something will have to give?’
Holly nodded. ‘I was thinking about it just before you got here. I’d quite like to take some decent maternity leave, actually. Make sure the boys are acclimatised to the babies before I bugger off back to work. In an ideal world I’d take six months off completely and then go back part-time.’ She looked uncomfortable. ‘To be honest, though, all that seems a bit “First World problems” compared to everything we’re dealing with at the moment. Like oh-to-have-the-luxury, you know?’
‘I do,’ said Lizzie. ‘And it’s not as though your mum’s going to fly in on her broomstick and help out, is it now?’ They both snorted with laughter at the very thought.
Holly didn’t like to point out to anyone but Lizzie, who had seen her through thick and thin over the years, how jealous she felt, watching the Jemimas and Emilys of her acquaintance as their hands-on and loving mothers swept in to help navigate those first few tricky weeks. Or indeed, in Jemima’s case, rented a cottage down the lane for six months for the perfect combination of support and space.
‘Taffy’s mum has offered—’ Holly began, before stopping at Lizzie’s open-mouthed expression of surprise.
‘You’re not really considering it, are you?’ Lizzie interrupted.
Holly shrugged. ‘They are her grandchildren. And let’s face it, I’m not really in a position to turn down a little loving support.’ She waved her hand around the room. ‘And we’ve plenty of space now. I keep hoping that maybe this way, my kids might get some grandparents who actually give a damn.’
‘They’re not short of loving,’ scoffed Lizzie. ‘They’ve got me and Will, Elsie has basically made them her own. And I think you gained Dan as family by default when you married the Taffster.’
‘I know,’ said Holly, swallowing the lump that had nestled in her throat. ‘Still—’
‘Still?’
‘Well, it’s not quite the same, is it? Spending all this time with the Preggie Protesters has stirred up a right old hornet’s nest in my head. After all, if a girl can’t turn to her own mum when she’s raising her kids – well, it’s a bloody shame, that’s all.’
‘For her, Holly. She’s the one who’s missing out. Your kids are wonderful. Honestly. And you know me – I bloody hate kids most of the time. But she’s the one who’s missing out. And Milo’s mum too. Both of them, too selfish to look beyond the end of their own noses. If you want my opinion, you’re doing a better job of building your own little family here than you realise. And, yeah, what the hell, let’s get Call-me-Patty installed in the guest room for a bit, while we find you the perfect locum to keep your conscience clear.’
‘That’s what I need,’ said Holly. ‘A clear conscience. I don’t want to feel like I’m letting anyone down.’
‘Pshaw,’ said Lizzie dismissively. ‘This said by the person who spends more time thinking about what other people need than she ever does about what she needs.’
‘It’s a doctor thing,’ Holly protested. ‘Alice is exactly the same. Just look at this whole Coco debacle. She’s been tearing herself into pieces for months trying to do the right thing by everyone.’
‘Does she even know yet that Jamie got offered that job?’ Lizzie asked, worry clouding her face. ‘Will she even cope if he goes?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Holly simply, the Larkford rumour mill as always running at warp speed. ‘But I can hardly expect her to pick up my slack if she loses Jamie and Coco at once, now can I?’
Lizzie paused, deep in thought. ‘Maybe it’s just sitting in her kitchen, walking a mile in her shoes so to speak, but did you ever stop to think that Elsie has the right idea, with all her meddling and interfering?’
‘I’m not sure she’d call it that,’ Holly protested.
‘Well hear me out for a minute, yeah? It’s not like either of us are in a position to go marching on Westminster, or to tell Alice what to do, but there’s no reason we can’t still be useful . . . A guiding hand here or there?’
‘What did you have in mind?’ asked Holly, intrigued.
‘Just a few little phone calls,’ said Lizzie innocently, her eyes lighting up with impish delight. ‘What d’you say?’