Follow Me Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

adds in explanation.
    â€˜Oh, I see,’ And I find myself scratching my head at the thought.
    â€˜I dropped by to check on Emily and her new baby the other night. I hear all went well, thanks to our wonderful midwife. Good job, Zara.’
    I thank him and he disappears into his consulting room, leaving me with Janet, the receptionist.
    â€˜Have you seen Claire?’ I ask her.
    â€˜Not yet,’Janet says.
    â€˜How long do you think it will be before she mentions the W-word?’
    Janet smiles behind the lock of lank, mousy hair she holds across her mouth. She’s very quiet for a receptionist; that’s probably why Ben chose her, recognising a calm, kindred spirit. ‘About a minute?’
    â€˜I’m guessing ten seconds.’
    Claire is the practice nurse and one of my best friends – I’ve known her since we were at school. We took our A Levels in the sixth form and went off to do our degrees, hers with my sister in nursing and mine in midwifery, and we’ve ended up working from the same surgery.
    â€˜I’m here.’ Claire rushes into reception in her bright magenta uniform. She runs her fingers through her hair, which is currently dark brown at the roots and copper at the tips, while I start counting down the seconds. ‘What a nightmare! I overslept,’ she explains. ‘Kev switched the alarm off before he left for an early shift.’ Kevin’s the local policeman and Claire’s fiancé. ‘Sometimes I could kill him, the dopey sod. He’s doing a spell in Traffic, but I can’t see how he’ll evercatch anyone. Hey, I need to talk to you about the bridesmaids’ dresses.’
    â€˜Ten seconds. I was right,’ I say, laughing.
    â€˜What are you going on about?’ Claire frowns.
    â€˜Janet and I were guessing how long it would be before you mentioned something related to the W-word.’
    Claire chuckles. ‘I don’t talk about it that much . . . Do I?’
    â€˜I don’t think a minute goes by without you mentioning it.’
    â€˜I can’t help it. It isn’t long until the wedding and there’s so much to do.’ Claire hardly stops to draw breath. ‘Anyway, I’ve seen these amazing gowns in petrol blue.’
    â€˜Are you sure you want blue?’
    â€˜You don’t like the idea?’
    â€˜I thought you wanted the bridesmaids in pink.’
    â€˜I did, but the blue will have much more impact. You will look amazing, I promise.’ Claire changes the subject. ‘Are you up for the weigh-in at fat club tonight? I thought we’d go to the pub afterwards for a white wine soda – to celebrate, or drown our sorrows.’
    â€˜I’m sorry, I can’t make tonight,’ I say quickly. ‘I’ve had a fat week. Living with my gran is no good for the diet.’
    â€˜Oh Zara.’ Claire sounds disappointed. ‘I’m relying on you to keep me motivated.’
    â€˜Next week, I promise.’ We’ve been on a mission to lose weight and live healthily for the past six months,joining a slimming group as part of the build-up to the wedding. I check my weight on the scales here at the practice while awaiting my first appointment, grimacing as I take off a few pounds to account for my clothes and breakfast. I’m a size sixteen to my sister’s ten or twelve and for a health professional I’m not setting a very good example.
    I have a few notes from Nicci who has seen Rosie, a teenager, for a pregnancy test that turned out be positive. She’s approximately nine weeks gone and has a supportive mother, but there’s no mention of the baby’s dad, apart from the fact he’s eighteen years old. Janet has arranged for a twelve-week scan and has entered the booking-in appointment in my diary.
    I call Rosie, who’s accompanied by an older woman, through to the nurse’s room.
    â€˜Come in.’ She’s only seventeen, and