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

Good Morning

Viola finished packing her overnight bag and walked out of the room that would become her home for the foreseeable future. Dr. Fenton was in the kitchen, judging by clanking, a few thuds, and quietly mumbled swearings. Viola stuck her head in and smiled at him.

"I'm leaving," she said. "I think I'll take a cab to the Chickadee Flight. I don't want to drive. It seems to have started to snow."

"I'll drive you," he said, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"You really don't have to, Dr. Fenton," she said.

"Alan," he deadpanned.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Call me Alan," he said. "We live together. And in seven days we'll be working side by side, sometimes seven days a week, considering how demanding the residents of the County of Fleckney are," he grumbled and ruffled his dark blond hair. "You should expect plenty of late nights and unfinished meals."

"I'm looking forward to them," Viola said in fake earnest, and he threw her a sardonic look. She pressed her lips, hiding a smile. "And yes, please, I'd love a lift to Fleckney Fields."

He nodded curtly and went to the hall to find his keys. Viola shook her head, chuckling. She found the man's grumpy disposition rather charming.

***

"How was Mable when you saw her?" he asked, carefully steering his Land Rover.

"Medically speaking," Viola said in a pointed tone. He looked at her askance, and she smirked. "She's receiving the best possible treatment."

"Do you always flatter your colleagues?" he asked.

She thought she saw the corners of his lips twitch, but something told her it would take much more than one silly joke to make the man smile.

"Hardly. Neither do I interfere even when it comes to the familiar patients," Viola said. "To be honest, I would say she's just– in low spirits. It's Winter, the holiday season is over. All her grand and great grandchildren left, and she's bored and lonely."

"Is that why you're going to stay with her?" he asked, throwing a look at her. "I don't mind you moving in my flat a week early, so you know. And all your belongings are already here."

"And I'm grateful," Viola said warmly. "I wasn't planning to stay with her, of course, but now that I think of it, it sounds lovely. I've always loved that cottage."

"And the company, I assume," he said.

Viola nodded. "She's always made sure I felt welcome in the Holyoake family."

"Your divorce from Rhys Holyoake happened before my time in Fleckney," he said, his eyes on the road, "but I've learnt the man well enough by now."

"Is there a question that's supposed to follow this statement of yours, Dr. Fenton?" Viola asked.

"No," he deadpanned.

"Good," she said firmly. "Because something tells me neither of us enjoys idle gossip," she drew out.

He glanced at her. Viola gave him a polite smile and looked outside. It was snowing heavily now. She'd always loved Fleckney in Winter. After her wedding to Rhys, they'd lived in Abernathy, renting a small flat, while he'd been finishing his degree, and afterwards when he'd started building his company. They'd visited Fleckney Fields, Lower Woulds, and Fleckney Woulds for Christmas and birthdays, though. Most Holyoakes had their birthdays in late Spring, it was a running joke in the family that the Holyoakes were especially libidinous around the Harvest Festival. She suddenly remembered how Rhys used to joke that pumpkins made them randy.