***

"Would you like to go for a walk, Mrs. Holyoake?" Molly asked after they finished coffee. "I'm here for another three hours and thought you might want to. I have a car too, so I can drive you somewhere if you need me to."

"No, thank you, my dear, I think I'm going to lie down instead," Nana said, rising. "Perhaps, later."

"Yeah, sure," Molly answered, "but for now, what should I do? I'm normally expected to get groceries with the client, and clean their house, or something."

She looked around Nana's large kitchen with its immaculate surfaces and elegant vintage cabinetry.

"I do have a cleaning lady and four grandsons who live in the vicinity," Mable said with a laugh. "I only need help with a bath, the rest of the time you can just relax, dear."

"But that's not what I'm paid for," the girl said in a lost tone.

"To be fair, Mable, I need to go shopping. Perhaps, I can borrow Molly and her car," Viola said, putting the cups in the sink. "But you will obviously have to come with, since I'm not Molly's client."

"You think you're very clever, don't you, Viola, dear?" Mable said with another of her silver laughs.

"I know I'm very clever, Nana," Viola said, and all three women laughed. "You need to get out of the cottage, and I want to see the shops in Fleckney Woulds. Is the Winter Festival soon? I can't recall."

"It's the first weekend of February," Nana answered. "I remember how much you used to love it. It's grown since you were here last."

"Oh I love the Winter Festival," Molly exclaimed. "Sometimes it's even better than the Christmas Fair! So, you used to live here, and then you moved away, yeah?" she asked Viola.

"Yes, ten years ago. And now I'm back permanently," Viola answered. "I'm the partner in Dr. Fenton's surgery."

"Oh, Dr. Fenton," Molly exhaled.

Nana chuckled.

"I believe you just voiced out the sentiment of every single woman in this county, Molly." She looked at the nurse. "Help me get upstairs, dear. I'll rest a bit and then we will go show Fleckney Woulds to Viola. And Viola to Fleckney Woulds."

***

Viola was putting the grinder back into the cabinet, when she felt his presence in the kitchen. It's amazing how yesterday Rhys Holyoake was an abstract figure of an ex-husband - and today, it's like her lungs were full of his smell and the short hair stood up on the back of her neck because she knew he was behind her. It's just because you didn't meet him socially, as you expected - fully dressed, with your make-up on, with other people around. Like neighbours.

That's what you are now. Neighbours.

"Could you get me your plate, please?" she said without turning.

Let's test a theory. Yep, he's going back to the dining room because after finishing his food he just got up and left his dishes there.

He was back a minute later. She once again winced away from him when he leaned to put the plate into the sink.

"Sorry," he grumbled, and she felt his scrutinising look.

Viola stepped away, putting more distance between their bodies.

"So you're going to stay here for a few days," he said, and before she could give him - or swallow - her sarcastic remark, he yawned widely. "That's good. To be honest, I'm–" He yawned again. "Knackered. I haven't slept in twenty hours." He rubbed his face with his left hand and squeezed his eyes.

She remembered that gesture. And his hands. She suddenly had a series of tactile memories flash through her mind - nothing inappropriate, just the feeling of his warm skin, the rough black hair at the back of his palms and on his forearms, and the calluses on his hands from the oars.

"Let me know if she needs anything, would you?" he grumbled and gave her a tired look.

His eyes were blood-shot, making the electric blue of his irises - and the hazel heterochromia streak - seem even more striking. He pushed his hand in the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out his wallet, and handed her his card.

"I'm in the Periwinkle Grove," he added.

"Pardon?" she asked, looking down at his name and number.

"That cottage you liked? Two streets down?" He vaguely waved his hand and yawned again. "I bought it six years ago. Give me a ring if Nana needs anything."

He was already at the door of the kitchen, when he stopped and turned to her.

"It's good to see you, Vi," he said quietly, and their eyes met.

Suddenly, she was at loss of words. Where is your usual polite answer, Viola? Her lips parted, and then she pressed them, still unsure what to say. He shook his head slightly and left.

***

Fleckney Woulds was just as cosy and picturesque as she remembered. Most of the shops and business were still there, most of them renovated and seemingly striving. After living in a big city for so many years, Viola couldn't help but expect to be disappointed. She'd chosen to come back here because she'd always known she wanted to have her practice and her life in countryside - but she'd told herself not to get her hopes high. And yet, here it was in all its postcard beauty, just as serene and joyful as it had been all those years ago.

"Oh, there's Miss Rosa's tearooms," she exclaimed. "Does she still make those strawberry scones?"

"Oh yeah, they're brill!" Molly exclaimed, helping Nana to step onto the pavement.

"And the upside down cake," Viola said.

"And the roly-poly with custard," Nana added. Rhys' favourite. "Should we come in?" the woman asked with a cheeky glance.

"If you'd like," Viola said nonchalantly.

The bell above the door rang pleasantly, and Viola realised that every person inside was now looking at them. Viola, you knew it would happen. Your history plus your new position will make you the talk of the town for a while. She lifted her chin and gave Miss Rosa, hurrying to them, a sunny smile.

"Mrs. Holyoake! And– Oh goodness, Viola Holyoake!" the woman clapped her hands and looked Viola over. "I've heard the news but still– Is it Dr. Holyoake then? Is that how we're addressing you?" she asked with a laugh.

"It's always just Viola for you."

They both laughed, and Miss Rosa invited them to the table by the window. Viola sat down in a lovely velvet armchair across the table from Nana. Molly tucked herself on a chair next to her, and gave a sheepish look around. If Viola recalled correctly, Miss Rosa's menu - and her prices - were aimed for the tourists and the local toffs. Viola remembered being in Molly's position - forced into a meeting out and worried not to be able to afford even a cup of coffee - and she gave the girl a quick smile.

"It's my treat today, Molly," she said nonchalantly, pretending to read a menu. She wouldn't order anything but coffee anyway, not for the lack of finances these days. "As a warm welcoming gift to this mad family."

Molly of course rushed to argue but quickly shrank under Nana's glare. Miss Rosa came to take their order herself. Mable ordered the scones and a cup of Earl Grey, Molly went for a slice of plum pie with her cuppa.

"Just a cup of your Turkish coffee for me, please," Viola said, giving her menu back to the owner.

"My darling, that simply won't do," Miss Rosa said, pressing her fist into her hip. "I can see you're watching your figure, but you're in my tearooms. You need to have something. Life's nothing without a bit of sugar!"

Suddenly, Viola's usual assurance wavered. She never had trouble refusing food, and especially pudding - but suddenly the thought of Miss Rosa's signature strawberry and gooseberry pie made her mouth water. She could remember the sweet and the tart flavours mixing on her tongue all those years ago.

"Leave the girl alone," Nana interrupted Viola's thoughts. "She had a large breakfast, and she's only here because she's indulging me. But could you send Rhys one of your lunch boxes, please?" Nana seemed to try to soften the blow. "With that pork pie he likes so much, and whatever side you think is best. He's just returned from the site, and it would be lovely if he didn't have to cook."

"Oh but of course," Miss Rosa answered, her face lighting up. "And some dessert perhaps?" she asked cheekily.

"Well, you know the man," Nana said, and they both chuckled.

Right. Rhys Holyoake was - just as all his male relatives - an awful sweet-tooth. While they waited for their order, Nana asked Molly about her family and her school, while Viola half listened, watching the people walk by the window of the shop and those inside, enjoying Miss Rosa's excellent pastries and tea.

Some sort of a melancholy surprise filled her heart. She always had an excellent memory for faces - and now it seemed that at least one out of ten people she looked at seemed familiar. Some walked by, and then would glance back. She would be easy to recognise, she hadn't changed in the last ten years - and the Holyoakes had always been in the public eye. A few people waved. She smiled and waved back. Settling back in Fleckney suddenly promised to be less of an aggro than she'd expected.

And then the door opened with a jingle of a bell, and Viola glanced at the man who stepped in, a thermos mug in his hand. He threw a look around the shop - and his face lit up with the widest grin when their eyes met.

"Viola!"

Sam Holyoake approached their table in three long strides, she got up, and without hesitation he pulled her in a tightest hug.

"Viola! How are you here?" He held her, his right hand on her shoulder, his long arm straight, and his bright blue eyes roamed her face.

"Hi," she said.

He didn't look well, the professional side of her mind noted. He was thinned, dark shadows lay under his eyes, and his lips were cracked.

"Good day, Sam," Mable said coldly from her spot, and he threw her a sheepish side glance.

"Nana," he greeted her.

"This is Molly," Nana said, and the girl gave Sam a shy smile.

Not as good-looking as his brother and his cousins, he was nonetheless a very attractive man. He had an asymmetrical face; his long prominent nose, of the same shape as other Holyoakes', was crooked; and his right eyebrow was split with a jagged scar. He'd fallen off a tree when he was a boy, but to those who didn't know this innocent story, and his mellow temperament, he looked roguish and almost dangerous.

"So, Viola," he said, returning his attention to her. "What– Why–"

They both burst into laughter, and she squeezes his hand.

"I'm back to Fleckney," she said. "I'm moving back."

"Permanently?" he asked. His voice rang with delight.

"Yes." She nodded. "I'm taking over the partnership in Dr. Fenton's clinic. So, let Semra know there's now a female doctor in the village."

His smile dropped, and Viola caught Nana's movement from the corner of her eye. Mable tended to jerk her neck when irritated, the gesture most of her grandsons had inherited from her.

"I will, yeah," he said, his voice suddenly bleak. "And the kids too! You need to meet the little'uns!" he said, again with a lively smile on his face. "They aren't that little anymore to think of it! Pat is turning eleven this year, and Lily's seven."

"I forgot they're so big," Viola exclaimed. "They're still babies in my mind."

He laughed softly again.

"It's because you got out just in time," he said and then pulled at her hand gently. She embraced him readily. "I'm going to get coffee," he said, releasing her, "and I was on my way to get groceries, but I want you to meet them! Where are you staying?"

"I'll be Dr. Fenton's lodger, but for now I'm at Nana's," Viola answered, and he threw Mable a quick look.

"Not because of my health," the old woman said firmly and lifted her cup to her lips.

"Just for the company," Viola said and patted his upper arm in a comforting gesture.

"Why don't you bring the children over after lunch?" Nana suggested, putting down her cup. "We'll be back at around two. Viola wanted to look around the shops, and then we'll probably have lunch somewhere, and after that, you should come."

"Yeah, that sounds great!" Sam grinned even wider. "Blimey! Viola Holyoake back in town!" he said with a low chortle. "Oh wait, are you a Holyoake? I thought there was something there about you remarrying?"

"I kept the surname," Viola said. "By the time I could change it, Dr. Holyoake had already stuck. And then I divorced again, so it's a good thing too that I hadn't bothered changing the name."

He gave her an amused shake of his head, leaned in, and kissed her cheek.

"See you later, Dr. Holyoake," he said, said his polite goodbyes to Nana and Molly, and headed for the counter.

Viola noticed Molly's gaze following him. That was no surprise. The Holyoake men were hard to overlook.