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‘Now? Do we have to?' I don't want anything to spoil the evening.

‘It would be good to clear the air. I don't want anything else, no more misunderstandings and issues to come between us. I'm sorry for getting wasted. I didn't realise . . .'

‘Realise what?'

‘Emily told me about your granddad.'

‘I see. He was a lovely man . . .' I stifle a memory of Granddad taking me and Emily swimming at the pool before the leisure centre was rebuilt. ‘His liver packed up. That's what killed him. He might still be alive if it hadn't been for his addiction. He and Gran were planning their retirement when he died. I was sad – and angry at him, even though I don't think he could help it – but it was so much worse for Gran. I
admire her for staying strong and getting through it. It's why she's held on to the shop for so long: to give her something to do and keep his memory alive.'

‘Knowing about your grandfather puts a different perspective on the situation. You must think I'm very insensitive.'

‘You aren't. It's me overreacting.'

‘Or a bit of both.' I can hear the smile in his voice. ‘I enjoy having a few drinks with Connor and the lads –although I don't always feel the same on the morning after.'

‘And I don't drink because I've seen the consequences of heavy drinking, not just my grandfather, but as a midwife. Alcohol can have a devastating effect on babies and families. OMG, you must think I'm very boring.'

‘Not at all,' he says. ‘I find you . . . fascinating.'

‘I can promise you I'll never lecture you on your choices. I just don't want to be there on your lads' nights out.'

‘I've got it.' Lewis takes my hand and I link my fingers through his. He stops when we're under the spreading branches of one of the oak trees that grows from the hedgerow and pulls me close. I look up into his eyes, or rather straight into the searing light of the torch. I reach up and click it so it's aiming skywards.

‘I'm sorry,' he chuckles. ‘I meant to dazzle you with my witty banter, not my headlamp.' He gazes at me with a shy hunger in his eyes. I tilt my head to kiss his mouth, and he's holding me, his hands firmly on my
back then straying down to my buttocks. I can hardly breathe, giddy with happiness and desire until . . .

‘Is that your knee?' I ask, pulling away slightly.

‘I think it's another part of my body,' he says with a wicked smile.

‘No, there's something nudging my leg.' I glance down. ‘Oh, it's Frosty.' She's butting her nose in between our shins in what appears to be an attempt to push us apart.

‘Your command for “no” isn't going to be any use in the dark, is it?' Lewis observes. ‘Shall we go back to the house? I can show you around the annexe, although, I warn you, I haven't put anything away yet.'

‘I'm sorry,' I sigh. ‘I'd love to stay longer, but Gran will be expecting me to take her home.' I force a smile, hoping he understands. ‘It's past her bedtime.'

‘Another time soon then?'

‘Soon,' I echo.

When we return hand in hand to the farmyard, Lewis whistles for Mick and Miley who come flying out of the shadows. Miley skims past Frosty, growling as she passes. Frosty snaps back, but Miley's too quick for her.

‘What was that about?' I exclaim, checking Frosty over.

‘Miley's jealous. It's going to take her a while to get used to the idea that you and Frosty are in my life.'

‘Not too long, I hope,' I say with a chuckle. ‘Since when does a dog decide whom their owner can or can't see?'

‘Miley's the possessive type. If she was a person,
she'd probably be the deranged-stalker type. Don't worry about it.' Smiling, Lewis kisses me once more. ‘I'll be shearing all day tomorrow and Monday. How about Tuesday evening?'

‘That's perfect.' I can't wait. For the first time in a while, I feel optimistic about the future. Who knows where this is going, but I'm enjoying the ride.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Home Alone

On Monday morning, I find Claire in the nurse's room at the surgery, where she's sorting out some equipment, including a kidney dish, a bottle of surgical spirit and some blood tubes, to take on a home visit to one of her elderly patients.

For once, the hot topic of conversation is not the wedding, but my love life.

‘How was your day at the Country Show? What was it like seeing Lewis again?'

‘He's asked me out.' My face aches from smiling. ‘We're going on a date.'

‘That's brilliant.' Claire's eyes shine, reflecting my happiness. ‘Don't tell me. You're already thinking about following me and Kev up the aisle.'

I laugh. She's winding me up.

‘I'm planning to take it slowly, one date at a time, not
rush into things like I did with Paul,' but I know as I say it, and think of Lewis, that it's going to be close to impossible because I'm already head over heels in love with him.

‘So where's he taking you?' Claire asks.

‘A sheepdog trial – you know, like
One Man and His Dog.'

‘Never heard of it,' Claire snorts.

‘Gran told me about it. It was on the television regularly some years ago and, according to her, it was quite exciting and the highlight of her week. It's a competition to see who can get their dogs to move some sheep around a field in the fastest time.'

Claire's eyes shoot up towards her fringe.

‘Are you taking Frosty?'

‘No, she wouldn't have a clue, and I don't want her to distract Lewis's dogs.'

‘It sounds like the world's worst date to me.'

‘Lewis is really keen to introduce me to something different. I think it'll be fun. And anyway, Claire, I don't care where we go. I'm looking forward to spending time with him . . .'

‘And his dogs' and a load of sheep,' Claire finishes for me. ‘It's hardly romantic, is it?'

‘It is,' I insist. ‘It's outdoors up at East Hill . . .'

‘The wind will cause havoc with your hair – and how will you dress to look sexy and alluring?'

‘I'm not going to go overboard. I want him to see the real me.'

‘So soon? Are you sure?'

‘Yes, and I want to see the real Lewis.'

‘I'd be pretty miffed if Kev asked me to an event like that for a date.'

I'm really looking forward to it. It's hard to find a time when we're both free, and I'd rather compromise and go out somewhere than be stuck on the farm, riding on the back of a tractor, digging ditches and pressure-hosing the sheep shed, like Emily used to when she was dating Murray.'

‘I suppose so.' Claire smiles. ‘Kev paid for a taxi, dinner and champagne, and bought me chocolates on our first date. Each to their own . . .'

I keep quiet. I get the impression Lewis is perpetually short of cash. I don't want to embarrass him-and I certainly don't expect to be spoiled with material goods like Claire.

‘I don't care where we go, as long as we can talk.'

‘And snog,' Claire chuckles. ‘How far would you go on a first date? Would you go all the way?'

‘None of your business.'

‘We didn't do it for ages. It took a long time for Kev to prove he was the man for me.'

I don't want to talk about the fact that Lewis and I have already slept together, so I return to the safer topic of my outfit. ‘I've ordered a pair of cropped trousers online.'

‘You've always maintained that crops didn't suit you.'

‘They look great now I've lost weight, actually.'

‘Do you think it would work out cheaper for me to keep a dog than pay a subscription to fat club?'

‘I doubt it very much.' I'm thinking of the money I've
spent replacing the things Frosty has destroyed so far, and the vet's bills for her vaccinations and worming. ‘And you really shouldn't take on a dog unless you've thought about it first.'

‘Like you did, you mean?'

‘That's right,' I say, grinning at the memory of how I acquired Frosty without any forethought at all. T wouldn't change it now, though, not for anything.'

‘Kev and I might get a puppy after the honeymoon.'

‘So many couples I meet have done that. If I were you, I'd go straight for the baby and miss out the dog.'

‘You're probably right, except that we're planning to give ourselves at least a year to enjoy married life before we embark on trying for a family.'

I smile ruefully. I expect Claire's written the dates in her five-year diary: conceive baby, give birth to baby, start programme to return to pre-baby weight . . .

I'd bet that Rosie, my teen mum, who's due to see me this morning, wishes she'd planned her baby for some way into the future.

‘Hello. How are you?' I close the door behind her as she joins me half an hour later. She has a neat bump beneath a short, skater-style dress.

‘I'm good, thanks. A lot better than when I last saw you.'

‘Thanks for letting me know how it went at the hospital.'

‘It's me who should be thanking you for what you did.'

‘I didn't do anything.'

‘You got Mum and Adam talking to each other.' Rosie smiles. ‘Anyway, everything's fine. We got to see the baby on the scan and I couldn't believe how much it's grown. Adam was made up.'

‘I'm glad. Have you had any more bleeding, or anything else that worries you?'

‘No, it's cool. Everything's cool.'

‘How were the exams? Did you get to them all?'

‘I did.' She grimaces. ‘I'm waiting for the results now. I just hope they're good enough for me to do what I want at uni.'

‘Which is?'

‘Physiotherapy. I'm going to take a year out, then apply – at least, that's the plan, although –' she looks down at her stomach – ‘the best-laid plans, and all that. Mum wanted me to have a career behind me, but I've told her I'll just have to have the baby first and the career second.'

‘Your mum isn't here today?'

‘I've come straight from work.' Rosie smiles. ‘It's nice to have a break from serving tea and cake. I work at Nettlebed Farm.'

‘I've never actually been there.'

‘It's great if you're a little kid who likes to stroke the animals.'

‘How many hours are you doing?'

‘Five days a week.'

‘How are you managing?' I ask.

‘I do get very tired sometimes, but don't tell me to stop. I need the money to buy things for the baby. Adam's working too.'

‘I don't like to sound as though I'm prying, Rosie, but where are you living at the moment?'

‘With my parents. Dad has kind of come to terms with the fact I'm having a baby. In fact, I think he's quite excited about it. He took me out to test prams and buggies, which was really embarrassing because everyone thought he was the baby's dad.' She pauses. ‘It's Mum who's the one who's most upset right now. She keeps saying she wishes she could have the baby for me, but I've told her I'm going to bring the baby up myself.'

I hope she isn't going to try to take over
, I think. I've seen it before.

‘What about Adam? What part is he going to play after the baby is born?'

Rosie's eyes glisten with tears.

‘I'm sorry. You don't have to talk about it. It's just that you do have to think about who you want at the birth, because it's going to come up on us quicker than you expect.'

‘Oh, he'll be at the birth,' Rosie says. I hand her a tissue. ‘He's going to step up and be a dad. Adam has promised he'll be there for the baby. He'll be able to visit whenever he wants to and, when the baby's old enough, he's going to have him, or her, overnight at his mum's house . . . He's going to pay what he can, too, towards nappies and clothes.' Rosie's voice trails off. The subject is closed, but I feel very sorry for her because it's clear she still has feelings for him.

‘Have you any worries, any questions you'd like to ask me? You know,' I go on when Rosie remains silent,
‘it's okay to ask for advice. Remember that. It doesn't make you a bad mum. It's far better to talk to someone – me, Dr Mackie or Dr Nicci – than to sit and worry on your own.'

‘Thanks, Zara. I do talk to Adam's mum quite a. lot – she's great. She's given me some bits and pieces she had for her baby, Reuben.'

‘That's good.' I'm glad Rosie has some support. It's going to be tough for her being a single mum. ‘Have you anything to ask about labour, how you'll know when it starts, anything like that?'

Rosie shakes her head.

‘You have my number and you know where to find me, anytime. Let's go and see Janet to make you another appointment, unless you'd like me to visit you at home?'

‘I'd rather not. I don't like talking in front of my parents. Mum's always there, listening in and telling me what to do.'

‘You wait – you'll soon find out that mums really do know best. You'll be exactly the same when your baby has a baby.' I frown. ‘If that makes sense . . .'

As soon as Rosie has left the surgery, Janet catches me at reception.

‘There's a call from one of your mums, Tessa. She wants to see you ASAR She doesn't want to come to the surgery, though, and I didn't push it – she sounded very upset.'

‘I'll go and see her after my appointments this morning. Can you call her back and let her know?'

‘Of course.'

I know what it's about – I've been trying to get hold of her. Tessa had the anomaly, or twenty-week scan two days ago and saw the consultant yesterday.

I meet her at the Sanctuary where she's outside the kennel block, dressed in maternity leggings and an old sweatshirt, creating some construction of timber and chicken wire.