‘My train is after lunch, so I don’t think there’ll be time for that.’ Cherie glanced at Zoe, who nodded.
‘Maybe next time,’ she said. ‘Now that you know what train you can catch, I expect you’ll come again.’
‘If you’re planning to stay after all, then I’ll have to, won’t I?’ Cherie said. She turned to Alex. ‘When she first moved away, she said it would only be for six months.’
‘I never said that, Mum…’ Zoe held back a frown. ‘I said it was a six-month trial period at the surgery and I couldn’t be sure they’d keep me. All jobs are like that. Most anyway. I was only saying that it wasn’t certain, and I couldn’t be sure I’d settle here.’
‘I suppose that’s all changed now you’re with Alex,’ Cherie said. It was hard to tell what she thought about that turn of events because her tone, while clipped, was giving nothing else away. There was definitely something accusatory in it, though, which Zoe decided to ignore.
‘Well’ – Zoe kept her own tone neutral – ‘as I’ve almost done my six months and the partners at the surgery seem to be happy and there’s enough work to keep me busy here, I’d say I am going to be staying.’
‘You won’t hear us complaining,’ Alex said cheerfully. ‘Me and Billie love having Zoe close by…don’t we, Bill?’
Billie turned from the oven. ‘Huh?’
‘I said we love having Zoe close by.’
‘Oh, yeah…Dad, come and see if you think this is done.’
‘You don’t usually ask my advice on cooking.’
‘I know, but I’m asking you now.’
He went over, and as she opened the oven they conversed in tones that were barely a whisper, instigated by Billie. Whatever they were discussing, it wasn’t the lasagne – that much was obvious to Zoe. She only hoped her mum wasn’t thinking the same.
‘It looks about ready,’ he announced in a louder voice after a minute or so. ‘Looks good too.’
‘Great!’ Zoe turned to her mum with a bright smile. ‘I don’t know about you, but all that walking around the grounds of Allan Bank has given me a right appetite!’
Alex and Billie had gone above and beyond to make Cherie’s visit as pleasant as possible, and Zoe loved them for it. If there was any sign of her mood darkening, Alex would instigate a cheery change of topic, or Billie would bring out something new to eat or drink and start a conversation about it, and Zoe had to wonder if they’d discussed their tactics beforehand and planned it all. By the time they’d waved goodnight to the residents of Hilltop Farm, Zoe’s mum had been won over. It was a small victory, but Zoe would take them every time. It was certainly one less obstacle in the way, though there were plenty more to come – far bigger ones.
The following day, Zoe was to run headlong into one of them as she showed her mum around the village. She’d reiterated what they’d all said the evening before, that there wasn’t a huge amount to see, and after they’d been up and down the high street and stopped for a chat with Magnus and Geoff, where Cherie picked up some chocolates to take to Ottilie (despite Zoe’s warning the night before that they shouldn’t crowd Ottilie while she was recovering from her difficult birth), Zoe declared the tour complete.
‘What about the little church I saw yesterday?’ Cherie asked.
‘It’s Sunday,’ Zoe replied, her heart sinking.
‘And?’
‘They’ll have a service on, I expect.’
‘That doesn’t mean we can’t go and look. I’m not so much of a heathen I’ll combust as soon as I set foot onto its hallowed ground. We might as well go and see it before we call on Ottilie. I like a good old graveyard – they’re interesting.’
‘But…’
Zoe couldn’t think of a decent excuse that wouldn’t make her mum wonder why she needed one. She was hardly religious at all, but she felt like uttering a little prayer now. If He could just see His way to keeping the vicar inside until her mum hadseen all the gravestones of people she’d never known but seemed determined to examine, she’d consider that a debt she’d work hard to repay. Because if the vicar saw them, there was no way of telling what he might say about the possibility of Zoe’s dad and Chantal getting married at St Cuthbert’s.
‘Come on then…’ she said, leading her mum to the lane that would take them to Thimblebury’s ancient and quirky church. ‘But don’t complain if the churchyard is full of parishioners coming out of the service.’
‘Why would I complain?’
‘Because it might be hard to get around, and because if any of them know me, they’ll want to chat.’
‘Don’t you want to chat to them?’
‘Ordinarily I love to, but we’re on a time crunch, remember? We’ve got to fit a lot in before I take you to the train station.’
‘Only a visit to Ottilie.’
