Miracles in the Village. Josie Metcalfe

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СКАЧАТЬ and it got your knees like nothing else. ‘Hey, how about some cake? I know Fran’s brought some over from the shop and I’m getting really hungry.’

      ‘Good idea,’ Fran said with a smile. ‘Come on, guys, let’s go and make tea for Mike.’ She held out her hand to Sophie, who slithered over his chest, grabbed her hand and cuddled up to her side.

      ‘Can I make him banana sandwiches?’

      ‘I expect so.’ Fran chuckled, and Mike listened to them making their way towards the kitchen and smiled at Kirsten.

      ‘Sounds like you’ll have a busy holiday.’

      ‘Well, we will if she has anything to do with it, but we all love Scotland and Andrew’s parents spoil her to death. So—are you OK to have her for the week when we get back?’

      ‘Fine. Make it Sunday afternoon, can you? I should be able to help out in the shop over the weekend by then, and I feel I ought to be pulling my weight.’

      ‘Sunday’s fine. It’ll give me time to unpack and wash her stuff.’ She stared at his leg. ‘I’m sorry about your accident.’

      He shrugged. ‘I was being stupid.’

      ‘So I gather. And I always thought you were clever. Maybe we should get Sophie screened for the reckless gene.’

      He snorted. ‘So rude.’

      ‘You asked for it.’ She stopped smiling and perched on the edge of the sofa. ‘Actually, I’ve got something to tell you.’

      He looked up into her face, and his heart sank. He knew, before she opened her mouth, what she was going to say.

      ‘When’s it due?’ he asked.

      She frowned, then said sadly, ‘Is it so obvious?’

      He nodded. ‘I’ve seen that look in your eyes before, don’t forget. So when is it? February? March?’

      ‘February—the very end. We haven’t told Sophie yet, but I wanted to warn you, because of Fran and—well, you know.’

      Yes, he knew. What he didn’t know was how on earth he was going to tell Fran. He dredged up a smile. ‘Congratulations, Kirsten,’ he said softly, and, drawing her down, he hugged her gently and brushed a kiss against her cheek. ‘I hope it all goes well for you. Sophie’s dying for a little brother or sister and we don’t seem to be getting any closer to achieving that for her, so I’m really pleased for you.’

      She blinked hard and smiled. ‘Thank you. I know it isn’t easy for you.’

      ‘Mummy—Mummy! It’s a chocolate fudge cake! Absolutely my favourite! And I’ve made some banana sandwiches, and Fran’s made a huge pot of tea—she’s bringing it on a tray.’

      ‘How lovely—I’ll help her,’ Kirsten said, standing up and giving him another slightly worried smile. ‘Mike, are you sure you’re OK about it?’

      ‘About what?’ Sophie asked, bouncing around the room with the dog on her heels.

      ‘Having you for the week once you’re back,’ he said quickly. ‘I think if Fran’s OK with it, we could have you from the weekend after next? I should get a walking cast so I might be a bit more mobile by then. And we’re pushed on the farm at the moment, because one of the shop ladies is off on holiday, so we’ll have you from Sunday afternoon, perhaps? Then we’ll have plenty of time to hear about your holiday.’

      Kirsten shot him a grateful look for his hasty intervention. ‘That would be fine. I’ll bring her over—we’ll go and talk to Fran now and sort out the times,’ she said, and went out to help with the tea things.

      Sophie went too, dithering and skipping and chatting to Brodie as she went, and Mike laid his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

      Pregnant.

      Hell. It was going to kill Fran—and he was going to have to strike the fatal blow …

      Mike seemed much more comfortable with the new cast.

      Maybe it was because his leg was starting to recover from the insult of the fracture and the repair, or maybe he was giving in and taking the painkillers regularly and not trying to be heroic.

      Whatever, he was sleeping better, and that meant Fran was too.

      Just as well, she thought, because with him out of action, now she was on holiday from school she was doing as much as she could on the farm to help out. She didn’t do the milking—Russell seemed more than happy to do that, and she didn’t like to stop him. She sensed that he missed the farm, and also that he needed to be needed, something that Mike wasn’t very good at understanding.

      He was so busy trying to take the pressure off his father that sometimes she wondered if they’d taken too much too soon, but it was certainly back on now, and Russell seemed to be thriving on it.

      And Joy was helping in the farm shop, as usual, and so Fran ended up making the cheese.

      She didn’t mind. It was quite therapeutic, really, and because of the tight timings—adding the starter culture once the milk was the right temperature, then stirring it, then leaving it, then adding the rennet, and the mould if it was to be a blue cheese, then cutting it, then scooping out the curds into the strainers, and all the time checking the temperature of the various processes, washing out the vats, scrubbing down the tables, sterilising everything, endlessly hosing the floor and brushing it clean—there was no time to think and yet the steady rhythm of the work was curiously restful.

      There was all the work in the cheese stores as well, turning and salting and testing, and then packaging the cheeses for sale, either in wheels or cut into wedges and shrink-wrapped.

      It all took time, and as they were so busy with the summer tourist influx it kept her well out of Mike’s way, but it was quite hard physical work, and she was feeling drained this week. Just because it was another thing, another turn of the screw at a time when things were already tough enough, she’d started her period on Sunday evening, and although she knew she couldn’t be pregnant—well, after all, how could she without any contact with Mike?—nevertheless it still made her feel down.

      She’d just finished a long session of salting and turning in the blue cheese store on Thursday and was cooking their supper when she saw Ben heading towards the house with a book in his hand. She went to the door and opened it with a smile. ‘Hi, Ben!’ she said, and he smiled back.

      ‘Hello, Fran. Is Mike in? I’ve got something for him.’

      ‘Yes—go on through. He’s in the sitting room. He’s bored to death. He’ll be delighted to see you. Want a cup of tea?’

      He shook his head. ‘No, I won’t hold you up, I can see you’re cooking. I’ll just go and have a chat for a few minutes.’

      ‘If you’re sure?’

      ‘I’m sure. You carry on, I won’t be long.’

      ‘Is the invalid up for a visit?’

      Ben was standing in the doorway, and Mike chuckled СКАЧАТЬ