Maxine Morrey - Coming Home to Wishington Bay

‘I’m glad he found him.’

‘Me too. I don’t think the poor little thing would have lasted many more days to be honest.’

I looked at the puppy and got another wash of tears.

‘Will you stop doing that?’ I hissed at her.

She grinned.

‘OK, everybody ready?’ Ned asked.

We both looked up ready to acknowledge him when Ned spoke again. ‘Why are you crying?’

Not content with finishing top of his class in ‘Tact’, my brother had also majored in ‘Subtlety’.

‘I am not crying!’ I said. ‘It’s the onions.’

‘The onions went in two hours ago. You weren’t even here.’

‘She was upset about Bryan’s history,’ Carrie stated.

I looked at her.

‘What?’ she whispered. ‘You were!’

‘I don’t need them to know that!’ I whispered back.

‘Why not?’

‘You know we can still hear you, right?’ Ned asked, a puzzled look on his face.

I risked a quick look at Gabe, but he had his head down.

‘Didn’t you say something about dinner?’ I asked, changing the subject.

* * *

Dinner was, as always when my brother cooked, delicious. Chicken that melted in your mouth, Dauphinoise potatoes that were so creamy and light – I’d definitely be asking him for his secret – accompanied by vegetables plucked from their own garden a couple of hours previously. It smelled heavenly and tasted even better.

‘Fantastic, mate. As always. Thanks,’ Gabe said, sitting back in his seat.

‘You’re very welcome. Anything to keep our own private obstetrician happy.’

‘Oh, Ned, stop fussing.’ Carrie laughed, taking her husband’s hand. ‘Everything’s fine. We just saw the nurse this morning!’

‘I know. I’m just saying. It helps to know people. That’s all.’

‘I feel so used.’ Gabe affected a mock-distressed look, but laughter danced in his eyes.

‘What? You didn’t think we actually liked you, did you?’

Gabe crossed his arms, both hands resting on his heart. ‘I could only hope.’

Ned grinned around his glass and shook his head before taking a sip of his beer. I sat listening, and watching, the interaction – the easy friendship between them all – and felt a tug inside me. Was this something they did regularly? From the look and feel of the laid-back atmosphere, I guessed it was. As they carried on with their teasing, my mind wandered to what I would have been doing right now had I been at home in London. The kitchen clock above the door showed nearly 9 p.m. and I felt the tug again. I knew exactly what I’d be doing. I’d have been sat at my desk, a half-finished ready meal beside me, had I remembered to eat at all, with my head buried in paperwork as the office sat quiet around me.

‘Is that your speciality? Obstetrics?’ I asked as I took the plates Gabe handed me, having insisted on clearing the table and letting Carrie rest. She’d objected, of course, but not for too long. To be honest, I didn’t know a whole lot about being pregnant or babies but I did know from Ned that she was finding things more tiring than she’d hoped.

My brother had fallen head over heels for Carrie the moment he’d seen her and had been known to fuss over her – which although sometimes a little nauseating, depending on my mood, was mostly adorable. And they’d been trying for a baby for nearly two years before this little one appeared, so I totally understood his anxiety.

‘No. I’m actually a little further along that particular road. I’m a paediatrician.’

‘Oh wow. That’s got to be …’

He tilted his head at me as he waited for me to tell him what his career must be. Ned glanced over.

‘She’s amazing with figures but words are not her strong suit. If she cocks up here, take it with a pinch of salt.’

‘Do you mind?’ I said, feeling the blush touch my cheeks. Partly because I suspected Ned was right. While the actual meat of a presentation at work was something I could do with my eyes closed, the presentation itself, that whole speaking in front of people bit, was most definitely not my happy place. The pain in my chest would burn, my limbs would tingle and I’d have to concentrate on remembering to take enough breaths in between the words so as to not start turning blue. I may even have been known to bribe another colleague with a very expensive dinner to take my place on more than one occasion.

‘I’m not that bad,’ I said, turning back to Gabe.

He shrugged. ‘It’s a brother’s job to wind his siblings up. Ned’s a wizard at cooking but it’s nice for him to work on some other skills too.’

Ned wobbled his head in ironic amusement, causing us both to grin.

‘Believe me. He doesn’t really need too much practice at that particular skill. I think he spent the four years before I came along building on that.’

‘Just as well! Right nightmare she turned out to be,’ Ned huffed as he opened the oven to release the most mouth-watering, sweet smell of home-made treacle tart. I moved to take a closer look at the golden, bubbling deliciousness.

‘Luckily, I’m very forgiving.’

‘Actually, she’s not. But she does love food.’ Ned gave me a raised brow as he handed me the plate he’d now transferred the tart to. ‘Although you wouldn’t know it by her diet.’

I gave him a look. ‘I have a very busy schedule!’

‘You have a very unhealthy schedule that results in you barely eating, and when you do it’s rubbish and you’re suffering panic attacks.’ His expression had lost the joviality now. ‘The only time you ever ate properly was when Gigi came up to visit you or you came here.’

‘Oh, pfft,’ I said, trying to laugh it all off and not be mortified that my brother was bringing all of this up right now in front of someone who was, to me at least, pretty much a total stranger.

That someone was now looking at me with what I could immediately see what his ‘concerned doctor’s face’.

‘Panic attacks?’

‘They’re not panic attacks,’ I said, airily, as I put the dish down on the table, and handed the cake slice to Carrie, pleading with my eyes for her to help me out of this conversation. ‘Ned’s exaggerating again. You clearly know what he’s like. It’s nothing.’

‘Well, we were worried when you mentioned this last one. It must have been bad for you to take this sabbatical,’ Carrie added.

Please, ground, open up now.

‘Tell me about them.’ It didn’t sound like a request but there was still no way that was happening.

‘Tart?’ I said, putting a slice in front of Gabe, desperate to change the subject.

A smirk tempted the sides of his mouth. ‘I date but I think that particular label’s a little harsh.’

Ned snorted as he put down the jug of crème Anglaise. ‘And you say I’m tactless.’

I shook my head. ‘You two are as bad as one another,’ I said, drowning my slice of pudding in sauce and forking up a large piece.

Carrie pushed the small jug of cream towards me. I added some to my coffee – a little more than I usually did feeling, with more relief than I’d expected, that I didn’t have to get up at five o’clock tomorrow morning. Years ago, I’d loved my coffee milky, but as I’d worked harder and longer and climbed the financial services corporate ladder, I’d gradually taken my coffee darker and stronger, relying more and more on the kick it gave to help me last through the day. I was only on my first full day in Wishington Bay and I realised I was already two coffees down. Considering how many I’d get through in a day, that wasn’t a great reduction but it also said quite a lot.

I passed the cream to Gabe. ‘So, how long have you been at St Andrew’s Hospital?’

He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the smell of the freshly roasted coffee before taking a taste. ‘A little over three years now.’