The Ladies' Midnight Swimming Club(5)

‘I suppose, I can’t,’ Elizabeth said ruefully, but she faltered on the doorstep. ‘Really, the last thing I wanted was to impose…’

‘You won’t be imposing. Sure it’s only me and the cats here and they’re not great conversationalists to be honest.’ She laughed at this and closed the door gently behind Elizabeth.

‘Here,’ Jo bent down, discommoded the fattest cat Elizabeth had ever seen and shook out a cushion on the only carver at the small round kitchen table. The cat, obviously insulted, skulked towards the kitchen door, arched his back and then wound his way out to the hall. Ignoring him, Jo placed a mug of tea before her guest and flopped into the seat opposite. ‘Ah, sure isn’t this lovely now,’ she said as she sipped the strong tea from her own mug.

‘It is,’ Elizabeth agreed and she meant it. It was cosy here. The cottage, rather than feeling as if it was cramped and coming in on her, felt more like it was enveloping her in welcome warmth. It was homely in a way that she’d never managed to achieve in her large sombre house. Here, it was tidy, but lived in. There were scuffs on the walls in places and a cupboard door that could do with being re-hung perhaps. The whole place was occupied by a meal just gone and one to come. It was a room that had seen happy times and some sad ones too. It was, Elizabeth knew, the heart of this little cottage and everything about it had Jo stamped upon it. It was the kind of room that would fester with emptiness if she wasn’t here.

‘Yes, it really is lovely.’ Elizabeth settled back into the carver. It wasn’t a generous chair, but soft cushions at her back and one on the seat made it feel as if it had been waiting for her to sit in it, for her whole life.

‘Well, how did you get on for the night?’ Jo asked her eventually.

‘It was fine,’ she said softly. ‘Waking up was strange, sensing his space empty.’ It was funny. He had died almost a week ago, but today was the first time it felt as if he wouldn’t be coming back, although, Elizabeth had no idea how to explain that now. ‘The storm woke me, but before that I slept soundly.’

‘You’ll have been worn out after the last week. It’s draining, having to keep a stiff upper lip when, let’s face it, all you’re going to want to do is curl up in a corner somewhere and have a bit of a cry.’

‘I suppose,’ Elizabeth said. She looked towards the clock again, but of course, she had no-one to rush home for now, nothing in the world that had to be done or call her away from this moment. ‘I’m going to have to make some decisions, amn’t I…’ she began.

‘You will, but there’s no rush, not yet.’ Jo leant forward, interested. ‘People understand, you know. No-one would expect you to…’ She narrowed her eyes then for a moment, picking up more from Elizabeth’s unfinished sentence than she’d planned to share. ‘What happened?’

‘I…’ Elizabeth wasn’t sure where to start, but considering all Jo knew of her life, this was probably not the hardest thing she had to share over the years. ‘It’s all gone, Jo. Everything – he gambled it all away. I’m probably a hair’s breadth from the banks serving me an order to get out so they can sell the house and the surgery.’

‘That can’t be right.’ Jo leant forward, taking her friend’s hand. ‘There must be some mistake. Eric would never…’ She stopped for a moment, trying to let it settle. ‘He’d never be that stupid. Surely not?’

‘It seems he was. He’d hidden it well from me.’ She shrugged. Not that he’d have had to, because after all, she’d never have gone searching it out. ‘He’s been gambling for years, up to his eyes in debt with several banks.’

‘He wasn’t very good at that either, so?’ Jo raised an eyebrow and in spite of herself, Elizabeth found herself giggling. ‘Can’t you continue to run it as it is? Get a decent locum in and…’

‘Thea Gilchrist isn’t likely to come back.’

‘No,’ Jo agreed. ‘That had been a long time coming; I think the whole village cheered you on when you gave her her marching orders.’ Again, they started to laugh.

‘Not my finest hour,’ Elizabeth said, but she had enjoyed it. Thea had been foisted on them from a neighbouring practice when Eric was too sick to work. Eric hadn’t been dead two days when she marched into Elizabeth’s living room and demanded that she hand over the practice to her. Elizabeth had been in shock, but even she hadn’t expected to lash out quite so enthusiastically.

‘I disagree. To be honest, I think we were all a little in awe of your extensive vocabulary when it came to telling her where to go. The parish priest had to run into the pantry to hide his smirk.’ Jo shook her head fondly at the memory. ‘Anyway, she was a horrible woman. We’d all have left the practice eventually for one in the next town over – you did us a favour. Be honest, even you couldn’t imagine having Dr Gilchrist as your GP.’

‘Anyway, it’s not much good to us now. I really don’t know what to do next,’ Elizabeth said and she buried her head in her hands. The bravery of earlier had evaporated when she returned home – the house, the surgery, the debts, it was all a total mess. ‘There is no-one else to cover the practice on Monday morning…’ A sudden dry panic was overtaking her now. Monday mornings were always the worst in the surgery. People coming in with Monday sniffles mostly, but often, it was the day people earmarked to pop in and get something off their chest. It could be a worry or an unexplained ache or pain, or it could be something much more serious. ‘And I’m not sure where I’m going to find someone. What will people do?’