Don't Wander Off

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The four of them stumbled into the cottage, laughing, leaving a trail of wet foot prints and clothes on the floor, and Sam ushered his children to wash their hands.

"I'll tell Nana you're here," Viola said and headed to the stairs.

"We aren't staying for long," Sam said. "Lily has her piano class in Abernathy at six."

"I'll finish cleaning the snow and go," Rhys said.

Viola nodded and went upstairs to call Mable.

They had tea with the children, and Viola could see why Rhys would be worried for his brother's family. The three of them showed all signs of living in a troubled household. After they were gone, Mable said she wanted to lie down again. Viola could see that the dark mood Sam was in had affected the old woman.

Viola decided a walk would be the best to settle her racing thoughts. She pulled on her Sorels, bundled up in her hat, scarf, and warm mittens, and set to re-introduce herself to Fleckney Fields. The village was the largest in the county, and Viola felt curiosity rise. She walked swiftly, looking around. She met two women she'd sort of known all those years ago, and they exchanged phrases that were becoming her normal interaction now, the 'aren't you Viola Holyoake?' and 'yes, I'm taking over Dr. Singh's practice' sort of thing. She then stopped for a short polite chat with an elderly gentleman who was cleaning snow near the village post office. Her feet carried her along the picturesque streets, and then onto the road leading to Fleckney Woulds, the county town. She tended to go for long walks whenever a chance presented itself, and she was enjoying the safety and the calm of the countryside immensely.

She texted Nana to explain her long absence - and to check on her - and received an answer that Mable was having Rhys over for dinner. Viola texted back that she would be back by bedtime.

When she reached Fleckney Woulds it had already grown dark, and she realised she was starving. It was an unusual feeling, and she patted her pockets trying to remember if she had her wallet on her. She didn't, and she sighed. She never had cash in her pockets, considering it rather untidy. She could walk to the surgery, of course, and pick up her second card - but that would mean another twenty minute walk.

She looked around and saw she was on Oak Street. She could just walk to the Oak and Shield, she suddenly realised. The landlady - Mrs. Owens - still remembered her, as Viola had found out the last time she'd been here a few months ago. And after all, all things considered, Viola was a Holyoake, no one would doubt she'd pay her bill later.

The pub was crowded, and the noise and the delicious smells hit her right by the door. She froze, suddenly unsure whether this had been a good idea.

"Viola!" a male voice came from the booths.

Viola looked and smiled.

"Viola Holyoake! Blimey!" James Whitlaw shouted, jumped from his spot, and walked up to her in long confident strides. "It is you, isn't it?"

"Evening, James," she said.

"Blimey!" he said again. "I've heard the rumour, but I thought people were off their onion to think you'd come back here!"

Viola laughed softly.

"And yet, here I am," she said.

"Wow," he drew out. "Join me for tea?"

"I don't have my wallet with me," she said, and he barked a throaty laugh.

"Well, my treat then," he said and pointed at his table with a wide inviting gesture. "Not every evening I get to have a pint with a beautiful woman."

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