Out of Practice (25 page)

Holly could hear Lizzie tapping her feet, as she always did when she was put on the spot. Perhaps, Holly wondered dispiritedly, the guilt was finally starting to kick in. Her own rage was now
simmering on a slow heat, as she wrangled her emotions under control. She still felt poleaxed – almost as if this were a bad dream – but the bitter taste of betrayal, strangely metallic
in her mouth, and the tiny crescents in her palms, where her nails had taken the butt of her restraint, were all too real.

‘Look, I don’t see what you’re getting so het up about. This is Holly we’re talking about. I was doing her a favour. Milo was chasing skirt – again – and she
was schlepping away all hours at the hospital. This is an improvement for her! Best friend on tap, great colleagues, fab place to live. Okay, so she screwed it all up by bringing twat face with
her, but still . . . Even with cheating husband in tow and no future job security, this
has
to be better than where she was before.’ Lizzie was clearly making an effort to win Dan
around, as she changed gears and layered reason and compassion into her next words. ‘Surely you can see that, Dan? I really have done her a favour. And you honestly aren’t thinking
straight if you think coming clean up front would have been the best approach. My cousin needed my help. You, Dan, needed my help. What was I going to do?’

‘Erm, had you considered honesty? You really can’t see it, can you?’ Dan said slowly, incredulously. ‘You’ve lied to me. You’ve lied to Holly. You’ve
manipulated both of us.’

Holly heard the screech of wood on polished flooring, as Dan pushed back his chair and stood up, but her mind was too distracted to translate. It was only when the door jerked open and they
stood face to face, equally aghast, that Holly’s brain kicked in.

‘Evening, Dan,’ she managed calmly. ‘Evening, Lizzie. Isn’t there something you wanted to tell me?’

There was an ugly pause as every person in the room wished they were somewhere else.

Dan looked especially mortified. ‘Holly,’ he began, ‘I don’t know what to say . . .’

Holly took a shuddering breath. ‘Then that makes two of us.’

She watched him struggle to find a way to express himself, one hand firmly gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. So many half-heard conversations and snippets of information suddenly made
so much more sense. Without the charisma and aura of professionalism, Dan simply looked like a broken man. It was hard to lay the blame entirely at his feet, when he clearly had so much else going
on.

Holly even knew that there was an element of truth in Lizzie’s hurtful words too. Moving to Larkford
had
been an improvement for her, a lifestyle choice. But was that really
Lizzie’s call to make?

Dan reached out and touched Holly’s shoulder, breaking her train of thought and making her jump. ‘Everything’s up in the air right now, Holly, but I need you to know,
I’ve got your back. Whoever makes Senior Partner, there’s bound to be a reshuffle, but you have my support, for what it’s worth.’ He flashed Lizzie a look filled with anger
and frustration. ‘And that is what Lizzie was supposed to tell you. We only hand out short-term contracts to all new employees, just to check that we get the fit right. But it does rather
leave you vulnerable, Holly.’

‘So what happened to, it’s a mere formality, rolling terms . . . All the spiel trotted out at the interview? Was all of it bullshit?’ Holly demanded.

‘It was the party line. George wasn’t sure of his plans, we needed to stay flexible . . . But again, from my point of view, I stand by every word.’ He managed an uncomfortable
laugh. ‘I just need to make sure I get the job.’

Holly looked at him, his right hand trembling and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. This conversation clearly wasn’t doing him any good and she almost felt sorry for him. After all, with
him looking such a train wreck, what were the chances he would beat suave, sophisticated Henry Bruce or the wildly ambitious Julia Channing – no matter how many fluffy bunny under-layers she
seemed to be hiding?

‘Dan. Go home,’ said Holly gently. ‘Have something to eat and go to bed. I’m not convinced this is really your battle. I’ll lock up.’

Dan hesitated, looking from Lizzie to Holly as if evaluating whether it was safe to leave them alone together.

‘I really am truly sorry, Holly.’

‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘Now go home.’

It was some indicator of his state of mind that he did so without question.

The minute the door closed behind him, Holly walked around and sat in his chair.

Lizzie hadn’t moved, she was still sitting down with her feet propped up, a splayed open bag of Kettle Chips forming the basis of her impromptu get together with Dan. She didn’t look
in the least bit remorseful.

‘So,’ said Holly. ‘I’m sure you’ve lots to tell me, so why don’t we start with the truth?’

Lizzie rolled her eyes and Holly felt her pulse rate ratchet up another couple of notches. ‘Oh don’t be so melodramatic, Holly!’ Lizzie leaned forward and pushed the Kettle
Chips across the desk.

Holly felt like throwing them on the floor and grinding them into the carpet with her heel, the sour spasms of hurt only fanning the flames of her anger.

‘You know, I’m not sure it actually
is
melodramatic to discover you’ve been used as a pawn in someone else’s chess game. In fact, I think melodrama might be an
under-reaction at this point – did you stop to think for a moment about me? The boys? Milo?’

Lizzie batted Holly’s words away with her hand. ‘Like you really care how this affects Milo? You were down here like a shot, whether he wanted to or not.’

Holly watched Lizzie talk as though she were a total stranger. All the pep talks about being the sole breadwinner and earning the right to choose were obviously part of Operation Gullible
Fool.

‘Did you want me here at all, Lizzie?’ Holly asked quietly.

Lizzie rolled her eyes again and Holly wanted to shake her. ‘Again with the drama – of course I wanted you here, you daft eejit. Would I have gone to all this trouble to find you a
job if I didn’t?’

‘Is that all you’ve got to say? No apology? Nothing?’

Lizzie shrugged. ‘You know I don’t do apologies. Let’s just put it behind us and move on. You know I’m right, Holls, you have to trust me on this one.’ Lizzie
leaned back further in her chair, her body language that of someone who knows victory is assured.

‘But I don’t,’ Holly realised in that moment, ‘I don’t trust you. Not after this. And the worst thing is, that I’ve been replaying every conversation
we’ve had since I got here and it’s all lies.’ Holly shook her head in disbelief. ‘Big fat lies!’

‘White lies,’ Lizzie immediately cut in.

‘Really?’ Holly asked, her voice dripping with an overwhelming current of disdain. ‘Was it a white lie when we had supper at your house and you feigned surprise that George was
retiring? Was it a white lie when you pretended that Dan was “ just a bit tired”? Or maybe when you encouraged me to sign a twelve-month tenancy on my house, for the
“security”?’

‘Oh Holly, where’s the harm? You’re here, I’m here, Dan’s getting some help – although it’s too little, too late in my opinion . . . You know,
he’s really got to get his head in the game because Julia’s TV thing is looking really lucrative and . . .’

Holly was out of her seat and halfway to the door, before Lizzie finally gave up.

‘Sit down and have a drink? Let’s have a proper girl’s night, yeah? I’ve got some gossip that will have you looking at your patients in a whole new light.’

Holly stopped, suddenly realising what she’d always chosen to ignore. Her friend was a gossip. Quite a malicious cruel gossip, by all accounts. It was something that was easy to ignore
while bathed in the light of her friendship and patronage – but now Holly had experienced a small taste of life on the other side of Lizzie’s sharp tongue.

‘You may be my oldest friend, Lizzie, but you haven’t been a very good one, have you? Startling lack of apology aside, along with your complete lack of awareness that you have done
Anything Wrong.’ Holly’s voice had started so calmly, but was now rising to a crescendo. ‘I’m not sure I actually like you very much. And from how you were talking about me
just now, I’m not convinced that you like me very much either.’

Lizzie didn’t say a word. So accustomed to having Holly fall into line, she had obviously assumed that today would be the same. ‘You don’t mean that,’ she eventually said
defiantly.

‘You know,’ said Holly, ‘despite being – now what was it? – “pliable, people-pleasing and just a little bit needy”, I do know my own mind. And right
now, with friends like you, who needs enemies. I think you’d better leave, so I can lock up.’

As Holly went through the motions of bath and bedtime with the twins that evening, she struggled to hold herself together. She could try and talk to Milo about it, of course,
but then she’d have to tell him the full story.

Besides, she didn’t actually need to have the conversation to know what he’d say. He thought that Lizzie was a complete narcissist and always had done. The irony was not lost on
Holly that Lizzie believed Milo guilty of exactly the same thing.

In this scenario, Milo would tell her to walk away. His scathing comments about Lizzie were often trotted out, particularly on those occasions when Holly needed reassurance after a sarcastic dig
or unfeeling jibe made her feel fragile. He could just never understand why she always went back for more.

As she snuggled down under the Fireman Sam duvet cover to read
Going On A Bear Hunt
for the umpteenth time, Holly revelled in the warmth and security of that moment. Right now, these
two boys felt like the only honest thing in her life.

Somehow, she realised, she had managed to populate her adult world with self-involved, self-admiring egotists. What on earth did that say about her own mental health? Was she really not worthy
of the leading role in her own life story?

Even as she tucked the twins into bed, little trousers and t-shirts all laid out for an early start, her mind was running on, searching for a handle on the situation.

‘One more day and then it’s the weekend,’ Holly murmured, looking down at their little sleeping bodies. Ben lay still, perfectly neat, his covers perfectly smooth.

Tom, on the other hand, was immediately spread out like a starfish – thumb in his mouth, the other hand down his pants. In his mid-blue pyjamas, and with that blissed out expression on his
face, Holly knew that Lizzie would be making her habitual masturbating-smurf-joke about now. She sighed, wondering how to explain to the boys that ‘Auntie’ Lizzie might not be around to
play for a bit.

Holly suddenly realised what that meant. In cases like this – who got custody of the dog?

She felt her eyes well up yet again and cursed herself for minding so much.

She really had done a number on herself – handing out the responsibility for her own happiness left, right and centre. Between Milo and Lizzie, Holly felt as though she’d surrendered
her own vote.

She slid down against the wall and watched her boys sleep.

Tomorrow was another day, she decided.

To borrow the cliché for a moment – tomorrow was the first day of the rest of her life. It was time that she rediscovered what it felt like to take control, to live honestly and be
true to herself. She was a doctor and a mother and a person in her own right.

If only she knew where to start.

Dan limped to the end of his highly unsatisfactory run. It didn’t seem to matter how hard he pushed himself that evening, running hadn’t helped and he headed to the
benches in the park to stretch out his legs as he always did. He was vaguely distracted for a moment by the sight of someone else looping through the parkland, skin-tight Lycra running gear
highlighting every curve of her perfectly toned physique. He squinted into the distance as she powered effortlessly up the slopes to the running trail and gave him a flawless view of her pert
derrière.

It certainly didn’t help him calm his heart rate back down to normal levels.

Now, if he’d been Taffy Jones he realised, he’d have run a second lap of the trail, just to get her phone number. He even contemplated it for a moment, before giving in to the fact
that he was exhausted, grumpy and frankly longing for this day to end. Maybe if he had a lovely girlfriend waiting for him at home, it might help him cope with everything, but he doubted it. The
flashbacks were haunting him almost every night now, the possible consequences of George’s announcement were weighing on his mind and now, to top it all off, he had the image of Holly’s
stricken face seared into his mind’s eye.

Guilt was a vile emotion, he decided. He’d known Lizzie for a very long time, known how she operated. Lizzie’s promises were solid and reliable, unless they happened to clash with
her personal view of the situation. Then she could be surprisingly ruthless. Dan was busy kicking himself for not breaking the rules and telling Holly himself, but he also knew it had suited him to
delegate. After all, what could he possibly have said? Holly, do please come and relocate your whole family to Larkford, but The Practice is set for a big upheaval and I can’t promise how
long you’ll have a job for? If I get promoted, you’ll be fine, but then I’ve got mental health issues and might not be up to the job. What do you think – start Monday?

Dan sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility tightening the muscles in his shoulders. Had he known, on some level, that Lizzie had her own agenda, he wondered. There were times when
he’d certainly suspected she wasn’t finding the whole motherhood thing as rewarding as she’d hoped, seemingly stunned on occasion by the mundanity of life with the
under-5’s. And Lizzie never had been one to do things by halves. Just because she was a mother now, it didn’t make her less ambitious on the career front.

It was subtle, yet obvious once he started looking. Without any willingness to compromise, Lizzie’s load was simply too great for one person to bear. Too proud to openly ask for help,
Lizzie appeared to have chosen gin over counselling and her only agenda had been to get Holly on her doorstep. Holly, it seemed was to be the panacea for all Lizzie’s issues.