door to her neighbours’, Patrick and Eileen Kelly.
The Kellys were friends of her parents and it was they who had let Kate know of the cottage’s availability.
‘Do we have to?’ Luke moaned, as they made their way along the path at the side of the Kelly’s house towards the back garden.
‘Yes, we do,’ Kate said calmly, ignoring her son’s stubborn, determined look. ‘You have to say sorry to Mr Kelly for almost maiming one of his chickens with your soccer ball.’
‘Those bantams are stupid,’ Luke maintained with childish candour.
‘Not to Mr Kelly.’ Kate realised she could have let the incident pass. Patrick and Eileen were grandparents themselves. They knew about little boys and footballs. But even at eight Luke was capable of learning about being responsible for his actions.
Kate stifled the recurring thoughts of the long road ahead as a sole parent. Everything, every decision was going to be down to her. She’d have to be disciplinarian, counsellor, role model but mostly, and more importantly, she needed always to be a loving mum.
Patrick and Eileen were sitting on their outdoor chairs under a shady tree. ‘Hello, you three.’ Eileen smiled at Kate and the children, raising a plump hand in greeting. ‘All done for the day?’
‘Here, sit down, love.’ Patrick got to his feet and beckoned Kate across the lawn. ‘I’m about to feed the bantams. You kids like to help?’ He looked keenly at Luke and Mia.
There was a bit of psychology going on here, Kate thought, and thanked heaven for Patrick’s insight. ‘Go on,’ she urged with a smile when Luke looked hesitant. ‘It’s good to learn new things.’
‘Is the bantam I hit with my ball OK?’
Kate heard Luke’s version of an apology as the trio made their way to the far end of the yard and the hen coop. ‘Thanks, Eileen,’ Kate said on a breathy sigh of relief.
The older woman looked perplexed. ‘For what, dear?’
Kate lifted a shoulder. ‘For being so understanding about the football. It was careless of Luke. It could so easily have been a window.’
‘Or someone’s head,’ Eileen cackled. ‘Kids will be kids, Kate. And there was no real harm done. Patrick and I were just saying what a grand job you’re doing, raising your two.’
A little half-smile flickered on Kate’s mouth. She didn’t want to admit to Eileen that sometimes the job felt almost crippling. But she had to look forward with hope. Nothing else would do. She regrouped quickly and got to her feet. ‘You know, I think I’ll go and join Patrick and the kids.’ She forced herself to sound bright and chirpy. ‘It’s years since I fed the chickens.’
Kate quickly caught up with the little group.
‘Luke says bantams are stupid.’
Kate cringed inside at her daughter’s bald statement. Kids had no idea of diplomacy.
Patrick seemed unconcerned. He turned his weathered face and sent Kate a wry half-smile before turning his attention back to Luke. ‘You know, young fella, a lot of folk think that about bantams. Reckon they’re silly and noisy. But my girls are just happy to scratch around and lay beautiful little eggs.’
‘So, they’re like real chickens?’ Luke showed a modicum of interest in the small black feathery birds.
‘Oh, yes.’ Patrick nodded wisely. ‘And now they’re about ready to turn in for the night.’ He moved towards the feed bin, allocating the children a small container each. With a flick of his hand, he showed them how to scatter the grain.
The bantams gobbled up the food and then one by one, in strict pecking order, began to wander off to their roost.
‘They have such tiny feet,’ Mia said in wonderment. ‘And they go to bed very early.’
Patrick smiled down at the beguiling little girl. ‘They get up very early as well. In the summertime, as early as four o’clock in the morning.’ Still smiling, he ushered the children from the chicken coop and closed the gate.
‘And we’d better get home too.’ Kate walked between the children, her hands resting on their small shoulders. ‘Thanks, Patrick,’ she added softly.
Several minutes later they were back at their front gate, the children each carefully carrying a perfect little brown egg for their tea.
Friday afternoon.
In an end-of-working-day gesture, Kate raised her arms and stretched. It had been a busy week and she was tired, yet at the same time exhilarated. She was holding her own. That thought gave her immense satisfaction.
In weekend mode, she got to her feet, collected her things and made her along the corridor to the doctors’ weekly staff meeting.
She was the last to arrive. Only four chairs had been placed at the table for the meeting. And the only one vacant was next to Aiden. A dozen disturbing thoughts collided in Kate’s head. Oh, for heaven’s sake. He was just a man, wasn’t he? And if there was chemistry, so what? So nothing. She took her place beside Aiden, vividly conscious of his body warmth, the faint drift of apple laundry softener on his shirt.
Aiden turned his head and smiled at her ‘Water?’
‘Sounds good.’ Kate smiled back at him and then wished she hadn’t. There was such an easiness about him, an almost arrogant sexiness that was a threat to her sensibilities.
‘Thanks.’ She took a sip from the glass and then placed it in front of her.
‘Right.’ Angelo settled his glasses more comfortably and looked expectantly around at his colleagues. ‘Who wants to be first cab off the rank? Kate, your patient with meningo? What’s her prognosis?’
‘So far she’s holding her own.’ Kate looked around at the practice team. ‘But it will be a long haul for her. And her family. They’ve only moved here recently to new jobs. Now their whole lives have been thrown into chaos.’
‘On the other hand,’ Angelo came in quietly, ‘they should be very thankful for your swift diagnosis. Community medicine at its best, Kate. Well done.’
‘Hear, hear,’ Brady and Aiden concurred.
‘Thanks.’ Kate felt a lift in her spirits, warmed by her colleagues’ approval. ‘We had an outbreak of meningococcal when I was working in the States,’ she offloaded modestly. ‘The symptoms are something you don’t forget in a hurry.’
‘I don’t know if I’d have jumped on it so quickly,’ Brady admitted candidly. ‘It’s been a long time since I saw a case.’
Aiden leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen end to end on the table. ‘Well, it’s always better to err on the side of caution and give the antibiotics anyway, as Kate did.’
‘I’m sure we’re all agreed on that.’ Angelo shuffled his notes into a neat pile.
The meeting eventually wound to a close.
‘OK,
