Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

Viola Doesn't Slip

The next morning she was still feeling unsettled by the previous day - and she didn't notice that she overdid it on her run. By the time she came back from the jog, every muscle in her body hurt, and the lungs felt on fire. She walked into the cottage and leaned her back against the closet. Rhys had left after their exchange, she'd heard the door bang from the guest room. James Whitlaw had been right, she thought in irritation. Staying with Mable blurred the boundaries between Viola and the Holyoakes - and there was nothing Viola valued in life more than boundaries.

She took a quick shower and made coffee. She was finishing her second cup, when the doorbell rang. Viola let Molly in, greeted the girl, and went back to her iPad. A former colleague had sent her an interesting article, and soon she was absorbed in reading.

"Morning, Viola," Mable greeted her, entering the kitchen. "Look at you! Like a magazine cover, every morning!" Viola smiled at the old woman. "Will you join me in church today?" Mable asked. "The Reverend Phibbs is a bore but we won't have to endure him for long. March next year, our own Oliver will be taking the position of the curate in St. Peter's church."

"Oh that's lovely!" Viola exclaimed in sincere joy.

She always loved Oliver Holyoake, Rhys' cousin. She couldn't phrase it any better than to say that he had a beautiful soul. The man radiated kindness and acceptance. She'd received the most heartfelt comforting letter from him when her parents passed away, and as unsentimental as she was, she'd kept it in her jewellery box.

"I think I'll stay in today, Nana," Viola added. "Molly, will you drive Mable to St. Peter's?"

"Of course!" Molly said. "And then Mrs. Holyoake wanted to go visit a few shops in Fleckney Woulds."

"Will you join us for lunch, Viola?" Mable asked.

"Let me know," Viola said. "I'll go to the surgery for a bit, I still have plenty of boxes to unpack. Could you, please, drop me off?"

With their day planned, Mable and Viola both went upstairs to change.

***

Viola had a moment of hesitation whether to ring the bell or to open the door to the flat with the key Fenton had given her, but then she reminded herself he was downstairs in the surgery - and it was her flat, at least for now.

She entered and walked into her room. The doctors and nurses traditionally lived above the surgery in Fleckney Woulds, but Fenton's - and now Viola's - nurse, a lovely Serbian young woman named Snezha Stankovic had a family in town. As Fenton had explained to Viola, her half of the flat - with a half-separate entrance, an en suite, and access to a small balcony - had been renovated just as the rest of the surgery about five years earlier, but no one had lived in it since then. Viola's predecessor had been renting a cottage in Fleckney Fields with his family.

Viola had moved her furniture already - her platform bed, her massive free-standing wardrobe, and her desk and chair - all of them coordinated, bespoke, and Bauhaus. She'd hung and arranged her clothes in the wardrobe the first day, but there were still skyscrapers of boxes waiting for her. Viola went to the kitchen to make coffee for herself. Fenton's kitchen looked bare but clean. While she stood over the cezve, her to-do list was taking shape in her mind. And then her mobile rang on the counter, and she picked it up.

"Viola, this is Fenton," the Welshman said. His voice was tense. "Are you willing to start working earlier?"

Straight to business, aren't we, Alan?

"Morning, Alan," she said and took the cezve off the hob. "I'm upstairs in the flat. How can I help you?"

"Oh, upstairs," he muttered. "I'm stuck in the surgery with a small procedure, and apparently there's been an incident in Frake's Gym, in the pool. Nothing serious, they didn't call an ambulance from Abernathy General. Would you mind stopping by there and checking on them? Technically, it would be Snezha's duty, but she's away today."