Miracles in the Village. Josie Metcalfe

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that he’d tried recently. He’d been too busy, and every night he was buried in the farm office until late. It was almost as if he was avoiding her. Hard to say, when she was so busy avoiding him, holding herself back because if she did that, if they didn’t try, then it didn’t hurt so much.

      If you didn’t try, you couldn’t fail, could you?

      The book—interesting under other circumstances—couldn’t hold her attention, so she shut it and unfolded herself from the corner of the sofa and winced as the circulation returned to her foot. ‘I’m going to have a bath,’ she told him, limping for the door. ‘Don’t bother to wait up for me. I feel like a wallow.’

      He flicked her an enigmatic look, nodded and turned his eyes back to the television, and swallowing down her disappointment she headed up the stairs.

      ‘Kate, have you got a minute?’

      She paused and glanced at Nick, then at the clock. ‘Literally. I’ve got a meeting with Chloe—’

      ‘It won’t take long,’ he said, holding open the door of his consulting room, and after a tiny hesitation she braced herself and went in, wondering what was coming as he shut the door behind them.

      ‘I saw Mike Trevellyan yesterday.’

      ‘Oh.’ She felt the tension drain out of her shoulders and turned to face him. ‘How are they?’

      ‘Not sure. He’s worried about Fran. They don’t seem to be talking.’

      She gave a soft snort. ‘There must be something in the water.’

      Nick’s mouth tightened and he looked away, but not before his eyes flicked over her in contempt. ‘You’ve had nearly ten years to talk to me about that, so don’t get stroppy if I don’t seem to be in a hurry to talk to you about it now.’

      ‘That? It? We’re talking about your son, Nick.’

      ‘We don’t know that.’

      ‘We do.’

      ‘It was just the once.’

      She sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘How many times have I heard that from a pregnant woman? And you only have to look at him. His eyes …’

      A muscle worked in his jaw, and she gave up. For now. A gentle sigh eased out of her and she squared her shoulders. ‘So—about Fran. What do you want me to do? She had a follow-up appointment with me after her miscarriage and she cancelled it. I don’t know if I can get her into the surgery.’

      ‘No, we thought of that. I’ve got Mike’s mobile number. I thought if you could drop by there after school one day, when Fran’s around and Mike’s milking, maybe you could engineer the conversation.’

      She stared at him in silence for a long moment, and eventually he turned and looked at her.

      ‘Well? What do you think of it?’

      ‘I think it’s a conversation I should have without Jem—your son—since I’ll have him with me after school.’

      ‘Well, perhaps you could find someone to leave him with for an hour.’

      ‘Mmm. His father springs to mind.’

      His eyes widened with horror. ‘I can’t.’

      ‘Well, then, neither can I,’ she retorted. ‘Not at short notice.’

      ‘He must have school friends,’ Nick said, looking a little desperate, but she wasn’t going to back down.

      ‘I’m sure he does—but I need to save them for emergencies, and my childminder’s not feeling great at the moment so I can’t ask her. Besides, Jem needs me. It’s our time together—so if you want me to do this, and I agree it seems like a very good idea, then I think it would be an excellent opportunity for you to get to know him a little bit better. As his other parent.’

      She watched him struggle, knew the moment he gave in. His jaw tightened, his eyes became shuttered and he gave a curt nod. ‘Just don’t let it become a habit.’

      She laughed. ‘What—dropping in on Fran?’ she said, deliberately misunderstanding him. ‘Hardly. She’ll smell a rat before I get up the garden path! What am I supposed to tell her, Nick?’

      ‘Tell her you’re visiting Ben and Lucy. Tell her you’re going to the farm shop and wondered how she was.’

      ‘I’ll tell her I was worried about her, because I am. I’ve been watching her at school, and a couple of times when she’s been outside when I’ve picked Jem up, she’s looked very tired. Don’t worry, Nick,’ she said soothingly, with only a trace of patronage. ‘I’m sure I can manage to manoeuvre the conversation in the right direction.’

      He shot her a blistering look and opened his mouth, then clearly thought better of it as a fleeting, rueful smile cracked his face just for a second. ‘Thank you. When were you thinking of doing it?’

      ‘Tonight? I can’t tomorrow,’ she said, thinking ahead. ‘I’ve got a clinic, and on Thursday there’s the school sports day, and Friday’s the end of term.’

      Nick nodded, a muscle working in his jaw. ‘OK. I’ll get Hazel to shift my patients to Dragan or Oliver. You can drop Jeremiah round to me on your way there, and I’ll give him supper.’

      ‘I’ll do that. Now, if that’s all …?’

      ‘That’s all,’ he agreed, opening the door for her with something that could have been relief. Poor Nick, she thought as she walked away. He really, really didn’t like this. The truth was obviously much too much to take, but that was tough.

      He was going to have to get used to it, no matter how unpalatable—get used to the fact that ten years ago this summer, on the very night of the storm that had torn a hole in their community, while his father and brother had lain cooling in the mortuary and her husband’s body was being sucked out to sea and shattered on the rocks, their frenzied, desperate coupling had given rise to a child.

      And that child was their son.

      She looked out of the window, across the bay to the headland where Nick had found her staring out to sea, her body drenched and buffeted by the wild storm, her eyes straining into the darkness. Not that there had been any hope. Even the coastguard had given up, at least for the night, but she hadn’t been able to tear herself away.

      So Nick had taken control—taken her back to her house, stripped off her sodden clothes, dried her—and then somehow, suddenly, everything had changed. It could have been put down to that old affirmation-of-life cliché, she thought, but it had been more than that. She’d loved him since she’d been fifteen, had wanted him for ever, and it had seemed entirely natural to turn to him for comfort.

      And it seemed he had felt the same, because, laid bare by their emotions, when the world had been falling apart all around them and it had seemed as if they were the only people in the world left alive, they’d finally done what they’d come so close to before he’d gone to university and met Annabel. The timing had been awful, but maybe it had been because it was so awful that they’d been able to break through those

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