Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Right, just like any medical procedure Doc, we’re going to wash our hands first.” Gus fastens the apron in the small of my back. It’s blue and white striped with the logo of the saloon emblazoned on it.

I’m so far out of my comfort zone now that I can barely remember basic hygiene procedures.

“Sink’s over there, doc.” Gus nods his head towards a large stainless steel catering sink in the middle of the saloon kitchen.

“Oh, yeah, right. Wash my hands.” I mutter vaguely.

“You okay Harvey?”

“Yeah, yeah, this is all new to me, that’s all. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Doc, cooking is chemistry, nothing more, nothing less, with some biology involved. You, a self-professed man of science, should be able to master this with ease. And it’s supposed to be relaxing! I just can’t believe you’ve never done it before.”

It was early in fall after Jerusha accepted my proposal of marriage at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies that I decided, my first duty as a married man, was to learn to cook. I’d mentioned it to Gus and he had taken the challenge on willingly. Winter was my busiest season, but I couldn’t say no to Gus’s kind offer to give me time out of his busy schedule to teach me the basics. I’d woken extra early this morning in order to make my way through the snow to the saloon. Gus’s idea was to teach me before he opened for the day and before I ran my usual Thursday clinic. It’s Jerusha’s birthday in spring and I have a surprise planned for her, this was all part of the plan.

“I think your hands are clean now doc.” Gus observes drily, “Gee, you are nervous, aren’t you? Less worrying, more learning. Relax, it’s going to be fun.” He smiles.

“Oh? Oh yes. Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Alright, we’re going to start with the simplest of recipes, and something I know Jerusha enjoys eating, we’re going to make scrambled eggs.”

I nod, Jerusha often makes the dish for breakfast in the mornings, so I know she likes it, but I have a concern, “Isn’t that a bit - um basic?”

I’m keen to be able to cook something that I know Jerusha will love, but also, I want desperately to impress her. Scrambled eggs isn’t going to cut it.

“Doc.” Gus looks sternly at me, “You are very welcome to take charge in this kitchen. Whip me up a plate of perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs right now and we’ll move straight on to a soufflé.”

He steps back indicating with a sweep of his hand that the kitchen is all mine.

I smile, I know when I am outmanoeuvred, “You win Chef. Scrambled eggs it is.”

Grinning, he claps his hands together loudly, “Let’s get started.”

He sets a bowl in front of me along with 3 eggs. “Alright doc - let’s start. Firstly, we’re going to break the eggs, but – pop quiz, how do you know the eggs are fresh? You don’t want to give your wife food poisoning.”

I look at him blankly, “How am I nearly 35 and don’t know any of this stuff?”

“I dunno doc. Didn’t your mom ever cook with you growing up? Did you never make cupcakes or cookies? I made my first batch of cookies with my mum when I was 4. After that I loved being in the kitchen, the smell of baking in the oven, seeing the look on people’s faces when they tasted something you’d made. I was hooked from then on. I knew that this was a job I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”

I sigh, I’m not going to explain the whole story. How I never really knew my mum and my dad was too wrapped up in his own grief to take much care in my home life. How my aunt Amy never, ever cooked, thought it a waste of her time, and how in university, my first girlfriend and I had relied on constantly ordering out and going to restaurants. Megan never bothered cooking though I remember her telling me that when she was seventeen, her parents had paid for her to go to a cordon bleu cookery school in Switzerland for the summer, in a thinly veiled move to get rid of her while they enjoyed a holiday alone. I’d lived on ramen noodles and instant meals before she and I got together, and for the time I spent with her, because she never bothered to cook, neither did I. When I came to Pelican Town, with Pierre’s general store next door, I relied on microwave meals for convenience.

Instead, I shrug, “Never had much of a home life Gus.” I leave it at that, and he nods in understanding.

“I get it, but if you and Jerusha have children, this is one of the skills you both can pass on to them. Never underestimate the time you spend with your kids. They don’t want fancy trips out or expensive gifts, well not until they’re teenagers anyway. All they want is to spend time with you and that’s something they’ll treasure forever. So, you’re not just doing this for Jerusha, you’re doing it for your future family as well - that’s if you’re planning on...?”

Gus stops short, he seems embarrassed suddenly as if he has overstepped a personal boundary.

“Yeah, it’s definitely something we’ve talked about and want for the future. We’re still getting used to married life together at the farmhouse for the moment.”

“It’ll take a while doc, probably a good idea to wait. Bring a child into a happy home. Best thing for them. Now! The eggs! Go fill a large glass of water and then pop an egg in there.”

I follow Gus’s instructions and put the egg into the water. It sinks to the bottom.

“See that?” Gus says triumphantly, like a science teacher whose bicarbonate volcano has elicited gasps of delight from first-graders, “If the egg sinks to the bottom of the water, it’s fresh. We shouldn’t be surprised, Jerusha delivered these from the farm only yesterday. So, if the egg floats, don’t use it. Half floating, half sinking? Probably okay, a normal digestive system will take care of it, but don’t feed it to anyone vulnerable to infections or who has any medical problems.”

“You could have just told me that Gus.” I grin at him.

“Practical demonstration is always the best way doc.” He looks smug, I think he’s rather enjoying his new-found teacher role. “Right, check all the eggs are fresh and then break them into the bowl.”

Testing then drying the eggs, I attempt to break the first one into the bowl. Tapping it on the side, I use too much pressure and the bowl upturns, spattering white and yolk on the floor and the apron I’m wearing.

“And that’s why I gave you the apron doc. No worries, there’s plenty more eggs in the tray over there. Now, gently this time.”

At the fourth egg, I seem to be getting the hang of it and the yolk even stays intact in the bowl.

Gus hands me a fork, “Eggs-ellent.” He quips. I groan quietly. “Hey, you’re getting entertainment as well as edification doc, don’t knock it.”

Gus shows me how to beat the eggs and while I’m mixing the eggs together, he makes conversation.

“So How IS married life treating you doc?”

“Good thanks Gus. Actually - better than good. I sincerely believed I would grow old in that apartment over the clinic. Never thought I’d meet someone as perfect as her. Jerusha is such an extraordinary person, I can’t quite believe my luck.”

“Are you kidding doc? Honestly, you’re a catch. The fact that you don’t get that is hilarious to me. It was obvious that she liked you from the get-go.”

“Yoba, Gus, wish you’d told me.”

“And what good would that have done?”

“None at all.”

“Well then.”

I laugh.

“But you are right doc,” Gus continues, “Jerusha is an extraordinary young woman. The town is better because of her. She’s shaken us all up and brought life back to the valley. Yoba knows we needed it.”

It's good to hear my wife referred to in such glowing terms. There has been a change to the town since she arrived. We, and especially I, had been stuck in a rut, going through the motions of our everyday existence. Jerusha has changed all our lives for the better.

Chapter Text

Gus points at the bowl in my hands, “I think those eggs are beaten into submission now doc. You can stop. Add a pinch of salt and pepper, and we’re ready to move onto the exciting bit.”

Setting the bowl down, I season the eggs.

“Alright,” announces Gus, bringing out a tray of various vegetables from under a cloth. “Knife skills. Nothing like the butchery you call surgery.” He winks; I ignore the slight, “I’ll show you the different types of knife, and what they’re used for, and then you can choose some extra things to put in the eggs. Here’s the thing Harvey, you can add a lot of things to scrambled eggs to make your own unique, signature dish. There are infinite varieties. And from here, there are many ways to create a dish from eggs, fried, omelette, poached, Yoba, you could feed Jerusha for a year on all the different egg recipes you’ll discover.”

I watch in something like wonder as Gus demonstrates his knife skills, chopping a red onion in almost the blink of an eye.

Thankfully I’m used to working with sharp knives and manage to cut some herbs and ingredients without slicing any of my digits. I’m much, much slower than Gus, however.
At the end I have some spring onions, some parsley and red pepper. Safe I know, boring maybe, but I feel it’s too early to start embarking on any adventurous flavours just yet.
“So, we’re going to fry the onion and peppers, add the egg and then the herbs.”

I struggle to work the stove top, but eventually get the hang of the gas controls. “Not too high.” warns Gus, turning down the stove, “You don’t want to cook the ingredients too quickly or they will burn, but you don’t want to cook them slowly, otherwise they’ll turn rubbery.”

When Gus says it’s time, I pour in the eggs, “Good, now grab a wooden spatula and keep moving the eggs around, scrape the cooked egg from the pan and keep stirring that in too.”

While he’s instructing, there is a knock at the saloon door.

“Sorry Doc, give me a minute, got a delivery coming in this morning.” He bustles away.

Suddenly, and for once in ony a handful of times in my life, I’m left alone with a burning stove, completely out of my depth. I take a few calming breaths trying to remember Gus’s instructions. The eggs are beginning to solidify so I make the decision to add the herbs and some more black pepper.

When I think it looks like the scrambled egg Jerusha makes, I carefully lift the pan off the heat and turn off the stove. I’m looking for a plate when Gus re-enters the room.
“Sorry about that interruption doc, new delivery driver has no idea where anything goes, Oh! You’re done! Great job, let’s plate up.”

He serves up two portions. Handing me a fork, “Bon appetite!”

I tentatively try it, as does he.

Gus laughs at the look on my face, “Don’t look so surprised doc. It’s good! Just a tad overdone, but that’s because eggs continue cooking even when you take them off the heat. I should have told you that before I left. You’ve officially made your first meal! How do you feel?”

“Well, it’s thanks to you Gus, I would never have been able to do this by myself.”

“We’ll have you cooking all kinds in no time doc! Same time next week? Thursday mornings are great for me, I’m in early for deliveries.”

“That would be great Gus, thank you. Oh Yoba, look at the time.” I glance at my watch - almost 9am - I’ve got a clinic to run.

“Let me box that up for you doc. I’m guessing you left the farm with no breakfast this morning, you can finish this before your first appointment.” He packs the remaining scrambled eggs into one of the saloon’s take out boxes and places it on the counter.

Pulling the apron over my head, I thank Gus profusely and, feeling quite proud of my achievement, I cross the square to open the clinic for the day.

~~**~~

Later that evening, I get home around five o’clock, searching the farm for signs of my wife, who is not answering her phone, she’s spending winter doing basic maintenance around the farm. Of course, nothing grows this season, so Jerusha will spend her days either mining, in animal husbandry, looking after the grounds, or working in the greenhouse, which is exactly where I discover her after 20 minutes of fruitless searching and calling her name.

“Hey honey!” Stepping over the threshold of the greenhouse, I wave to my wife, who is shoulder deep in ancient fruit plants.

“Well, good evening, Doctor Harvey Brennan. And where were you this morning? I woke up to an empty bed and my husband gone without a ‘by your leave’?” She straightens up stiffly, putting a hand to her back and groaning. She’s obviously been hard at work all day. The physical labour takes a toll on her muscles.

“Hey now, unfair. Firstly, I unequivocally came to the bedroom after my shower to kiss you goodbye and told you that I had some work to do before clinic.”

“I don’t remember”

“You were half asleep honey, didn’t want to disturb you too much, you work too hard, and you need your sleep.”

“I’m glad you’re here now.” She comes across the square of soil that take s up the centre of the greenhouse, being careful not to tread on any of her precious plants and puts her arms round my neck, kissing me in greeting, “Welcome home.”

“So,” I take her hands from around me and hold them both, “I thought to make up for leaving you this morning, how about this: I brought a meal home from the saloon, with Gus’s blueberry pancakes for dessert, so you don’t have to cook. And I can see that you’ve had a hard day on the farm, while your husband sat around the clinic all day giving flu shots to almost everyone this side of Grampleton; how about a deep tissue massage before bed? Work out all those knots you’ve been cultivating over last season’s harvest?”

She grins. “Sounds perfect. And yes, a massage in return for abandoning me this morning, and I’ll think about forgiving you.” She laughs.

I sigh, “It’s something we’re going to have to get used to I’m afraid, I’m going to have to go into work early pretty much every Thursday from now on, until Spring.

“That busy huh?”

I shrug, “That busy.”

Yes, I’m lying to my wife, and yes, I hate it. But this plan of mine is for a surprise, and I don’t want to ruin it by letting the cat out of the bag. I hope she understands when I eventually tell her the reason. I promised her that I would share everything with her, and now I’ve broken that promise, even if it’s with the best of intentions.

Later that evening, Jerusha stretches cat-like, uncurls her spine, and rolls her shoulders as I finish up her massage, she’s sitting in between my legs on the living room floor.

“Oh, the perks of being married to a doctor.” She murmurs as I gently stroke her shoulder blades down to the small of her back. She knows by now that signals that the massage is over.

I lightly kiss the nape of her neck and rest my chin on her shoulder, pulling her to me, “I adore you. You need to know, I love you more than I thought possible, and I’m so lucky that you’re here with me. I won’t ever forget that or take you for granted.”

“You’d better not.” She breathes, leaning back on my chest and allowing herself to relax a little. “I know you always tell me that you need me Harvey, but I need you too.”

“I know love.” I tighten my grip around her waist. We stay like that for a time, in silence, enjoying a moment of closeness. The candles I lit earlier casting a comforting glow to the room adding to the flicker of the firelight from the hearth. Not for the first time, I consider how my life has changed in the last few months. My tiny apartment, cold not just in temperature, but in atmosphere, compared to the warmth and love of the farmhouse. I’m a lucky man indeed.

“It’s the Festival of Ice on Monday,” Jerusha turns her head to mine, “Maybe we should skip it and take the day for ourselves? I’ve got a whole pack of hot chocolate with cardamom and long pepper in the kitchen, I’ve been dying to try it out since my mum sent it to me from Blanchefleur. Hot chocolate, a movie, I’ll make some popcorn, no interruptions? What do you think Harvey?”

I sigh, “Honey, you know I’d love to, but if I’m absent, and there’s an accident, I couldn’t live with myself. I have a duty of care to the town, a contract, and that involves being present as medical support at the town festivals.”

“No problem honey, I guess I’ll just have to win the ice fishing competition this year.”

Last year she lost the competition to Willy’s superior fishing talent. This year she is determined to best him.

“We could have that day together on Sunday if you like, I’ll try and finish up all my paperwork on Saturday and help you with the animals and all the chores Sunday morning, then we can meet up for that hot chocolate and movie date after lunch?”

Admittedly, I'm not the biggest fan of the farm animals, but if it means that I get to spend the day with my wife, I'll cope.

Jerusha snuggles more deeply into my arms. “It’s a date.” Everything is so perfect. I couldn’t be happier.

Chapter Text

Sunday date afternoon goes without a hitch, watching a movie with home-made popcorn on the farmhouse couch. It feels cosy and for once we're both relaxed. So relaxed in fact that we end up sleeping through the film, and Bear has eaten the popcorn from the bowl that tipped out of Jerusha's hands as she fell asleep. It did mean that both of us were well-rested for the Festival of Ice the next day, which shows when Jerusha wins the fishing competition with ease, she embraces me triumphantly afterward, her face flushed with excitement and the cold, her small but powerful frame huddled into a parka two times too big for her, it was her grandfather’s. She kept the one item from his wardrobe that hadn’t been ravaged by time and the moths.

“Look what I won!” She shows off a large tackle box, full of fishing equipment.

“Congratulations honey, I never doubted you for a moment. You’ve practised enough this year, you deserve it.” Her eyes are bright, twinkling with pride, she looks beautiful.

Willy approaches her and shakes her hand, “You did great Jerusha, congratulations!”

“That’s captain Jerusha to you Willy!” She pulls an object out of the tackle box and puts it on her head. It’s a captain’s hat, probably a joke prize for the winner.

But Willy doesn’t hang around to appreciate her joke. He doesn’t seem very happy with her win, perhaps because he was the one who taught her to fish in the first place, and she’s now almost surpassed his skills in a very short time.

Everyone wants to congratulate her and it’s a while before I get her to myself again. I stand back watching as she soaks up the praise. Pam crows loudly, “It’s about time someone knocked that old coot off his perch! Ha!” She punches Lewis in the arm, “Perch? Geddit?”

“No.” Answers Lewis coldly, rubbing his arm.

“I give up.” Remarks Pam.

Over the other side of the frozen lake, I spot Maru and Penny, deep in conversation, away from the distracted eyes of the rest of the village. At one point, Maru takes Penny’s hand, but Penny shakes it off, looking round in a panicked gesture as if afraid that someone might see them.

Embarrassed, I turn away. It’s a private moment between the two of them, and I don’t want to intrude.

Finally, the crowd around Jerusha disperses and she comes back to me, her face pink with excitement and pride. Standing on tip-toe, she kisses me and grabs my hand, “Ready to go? I know you hate these things, but the event is over now, so you don’t have to be here.”

She tugs my hand, and I pull her back to me, “I’m so proud of you honey, let me carry that tackle box for you.” I take her prize out of her hands.

She looks away for a moment and sighs, “Willy got two thousand gold last year for winning. I’m not complaining about winning the equipment and it’ll come in useful, I was counting on the money.”

I was basking in the reflected glory of Jerusha’s win and how happy she was, priding myself on being the supportive husband, by being here and carrying her prize like an adoring schoolboy, but now I’m worried about her. She’s chewing her lip and her brows are furrowed.

“Hey. You did great honey; you should be so happy!”

“I am. It’s just, I.”

“What?”

A decision crosses her features. “I’m going to the mines tomorrow.”

~~**~~**~~**~~

“You’re really doing this then?” I watch her over my coffee cup as she packs a bag for the day the next morning.

She sighs, “Harvey, we went over this last night, in great, painful detail. Yes, I will call you when I get there and yes, I will call you when I’m leaving and yes, I’ll be careful.”

“And remind me of the name of this miraculous super-mine that you’ve found?” I am not in a good mood this morning, ever since Jerusha mentioned going to the mine in the desert.

“I told you, Skull Cavern. But it doesn’t mean anything bad.”

“Oh yes. I’m sure it’s full of bunnies, just waiting to hug you as soon as you get down there. Jerusha, I’ve seen what you face in the regular mines here. In the desert, you’re miles from clinic, miles from me, and Linus won’t be there to pick you up if…”

I stop, I can’t say it.

“Honey, I’ve got no crops this season, I was counting on the money yesterday for, something.” She looks cagey suddenly, but continues, “The mine is my best chance at getting us through this season.”

“Are you forgetting my income?” I’m becoming increasingly irritated, as this discussion has not moved on since yesterday and we’re covering old ground. “Winter is my most profitable season. Can’t you lean on me just once? We might have to tighten our belts a little, but we can get through without you putting your life in danger.”

“Harvey, I like to have my own money, I like the independence. And we’ve been through this a hundred times. I will go to the mines and yes, you are entitled to an opinion, and I will listen to your advice, and take it, but I will keep my freedom. That thing I missed out on for so long until I came to the Valley.”

I know how stifled she felt by her previous life in Zuzu city, working in a tiny cubicle, a faceless cog in an uncaring mega-corporation, I can’t be the one to suppress her spirit.

Getting up from the table, I put my arms around her and rest my chin on her head, “I know honey, just, promise me that you’ll come back to me?”

Her body, full of tension a moment ago, relaxes and leans into me, “Always.”

And I’ll always relent, “Honey, please listen, if you ever need money, for anything, you know you can come to me, right? It’s why I’m here, to share everything with you, don’t let’s fall out over money worries.”

“Thank you handsome.”

“Alright, have you got your first aid kit? Bottle of water? Pickaxe?”

We go through the contents of her backpack to make sure she is equipped for almost every eventuality, and I kiss her goodbye before leaving for the day’s clinic, so she can board the bus for the desert.

Chapter Text

“Doc? HARVEY!”

“Maru! What was it you were saying?” I jump as Maru shouts my name.

“Doc, I’ve asked you three times to sign this prescription form for George. He needs the meds ordered today, otherwise he’s going to run out.”

“I’m sorry. Here.” I scrawl my signature on the paper that Maru places on the desk.

“Are you okay? You were just staring at your phone.”

“Hmm? Oh yes.”

“You sure?”

I sigh, “It’s just that Jerusha went to the desert today to the mine at Skull Cavern. She said she’d call me when she got there. I don’t want to miss the call.”

“I’ve heard that funny things happen to electrical equipment in the desert.” Maru looks concerned, “And she’s going into a mine, so she will be out of range of a signal. You might not hear from her until she’s back in the valley.”

I groan, “I let her go there. I knew that she was going to be in danger, and I let her go. I waved her off at the door!”

“Doc,” Maru, rather than being sympathetic to my problems, answers snappily, “She’s a fighter, she’ll be fine. I’ve never seen her defeated yet, not by all those times she went into the mines alone, not by all the setbacks she had in the first year on the farm. She’s going to be back tonight.”

I take a couple of breaths and try not to think about the spare bottle of Xanax in the bathroom cabinet upstairs.

“You need to be present in clinic, you’re not going to do your job well, if your mind is stuck in the desert. Pull yourself together.” She harrumphs into George’s form, checking I’ve signed it in the right place, before plonking it back on the desk in front of me, “Date?” She points to the blank space on the form.

Wondering what I’ve done wrong, I date the form and try to ignore Maru’s loud sigh as she exits my office.

Some residents of Ridgeside and Castleton are in today for their ‘flu jabs. The morning is busy, Maru and I doubling up to administer the injections, me in my office and Maru in the hospital wing.

I finish up placing a plaster on young Keahi’s arm. “That’s you done!” I smile at him.

“Do I get a lollipop?”

“Who do you need to ask?” I say mock sternly, looking over my glasses at the boy, who admittedly has been very good while I gave him the injection.

He grins, “Dad! Can I? Please?!”

Pika grins the same grin that Keahi has, “You can take one for after lunch!”

“Yay!” He tries to wriggle off the exam table turning around and kicking his legs, reaching for the floor. His dad lifts him down.

“You know where they are, be polite to Miss Maru!” I say, but the boy is already toddling to the front desk, through the corridor and towards the back door of the reception area.
Pika and I follow him down the corridor, “Sorry about him doctor, he’s never forgotten that time you bandaged up his ankle when he sprained it. All he remembers is that he got a green lollipop.”

I laugh, “It’s fine Pika, I wish all the kids came for treatment so willingly. He was very good.”

“Gus tells me you’re learning to cook. Oh, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me doc.” He adds hastily when he sees my slightly panicked expression. “If you ever need any tips, you know where I am. It’s a great skill to have when you’re married, in case there’s a situation when Jerusha is busy, or out of sorts. You’ll be able to cook for the both of you. I used to love cooking for Leilani. Of course, it’s a great skill to have whether you’re married or not. I bet you wish you’d learned long ago.”

“I really do.” I keep my tone even, but Pika has reminded me that Jerusha is in the mines today and I immediately start worrying all over again.

I open the door to the reception in and let Keahi run to the counter, “Good morning, Miss Maru!” He shouts excitedly, “Please may I have a lollipop please?”

Maru, surprised by the unexpected interruption is in the middle of blowing her nose hard. She ducks her head to avoid being seen, but not before I see that her eyes are red as if she’s been crying.

I snatch the jar from the counter, and offer the contents to Keahi, before he notices, “Choose your colour!”

“Cranberry!” He cries, picking a red lollipop.

I don’t think the red ones are cranberry flavoured, but I’m not about to disabuse him of the idea, as he carries his prize triumphantly, arm raised in the air past his father. “And you don’t get one!” He declares to Pika, “Because you are too old!”

“I swear that he’s never going to forget that you told him that last year, Doctor Brennan.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise he’d take it quite so to heart.”

“Any stick to beat his old man with.” Pika smiles.

I don’t want to appear rude to Pika, but I’m worried about Maru and try to hustle them politely out of the clinic. “Well. it was good to see you both, you should go home and take it easy. If you have any problems with a temperature over the next twenty four hours, take some Tylenol, but if you’re worried, please call me.”

Pika shakes my hand and Keahi shouts “Bye Miss Maru!” The boy has a soft spot for my assistant.

It’s lunchtime, so I lock the door of the clinic and place my hands on the reception counter, “Maru?”

Her head is bowed, and she’s typing on the computer, jabbing each key on the keyboard as if they’ve called her mother names.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She answers sharply and defensively, but when the answer is followed by an enormous sniff, I almost want to laugh.

“Tell you what, lunch at the saloon for both of us. You can tell me what’s happening, or not. Whatever. A plate of pepper poppers might make everything seem a bit better?”

Maru sniffs again, “Make it cheese cauliflower and you’re on.”

I smile, “Deal.” Handing Maru her coat, we make our way through the snow across the square, where Gus is waiting at the Stardrop with his customary wave.

“Afternoon, Doc, Miss Maru. Rare to see you both in here for lunch, you’re usually too busy, especially in Winter. No Mrs with you today doc?"

“Jerusha's at the Calico mines today and we’ve got a spare hour for lunch.” I order food for us both, salad for me with a glass of water, and cheese cauliflower with a Joja Cola for Maru.

We settle at one of the tables and I lean back, raising an expectant eyebrow.

“You know, you’re not a very good friend.” Maru stares at her cauliflower cheese, served by Gus and still steaming hot.

“Me?” I’m taken aback. Since when was this about me?

“Yeah, you saw me and Penny at the festival yesterday and you’re the only one who knows what - how I feel about her, and you never even asked me what happened.”

“I – I thought you were having a private moment. I didn’t want to pry.”

“Sometimes” She smiles into her meal, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes, “Sometimes you need a friend to pry.”

“Alright, tell me what happened.”

“Well, now it just feels forced.” She scoops up a forkful of food, blows on it gently and looks away. I can’t tell if she is messing with me or not at this point.

“She said no.” The tears that are brimming in Maru’s eyes, tell me that she’s serious, I fish the pack of tissues that I always carry in my jacket, from my pocket and offer her one.

She takes it and dabs her eyes. “I laid it all on the line, how I felt about her, just like you did with Jerusha, and she… Oh, I don’t even know why I’m so upset, or why I’m telling you now. It seems so trivial.”

“Maru, it’s not trivial. I can’t imagine how I would have felt if Jerusha had turned me down after me pouring out my heart to her. What DID she say?”

“She said she didn’t feel the same way about me. Said her mom would kick her out if she knew we were together, she’d be homeless. So now, I’ve not only ruined the chance of a relationship, but a friendship as well.”

I breathe out through my nose, “You took your shot. That was incredibly brave. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

She laughs bitterly, “I guess not everyone is the perfect couple like you and Jerusha. I mean you were a bit of a mess before you met her, living like a hermit. I thought if you could get someone, I’d be able to.”

“Hey now, firstly, we’re not perfect” I know Maru is throwing out barbs in any direction because she’s hurt. “And secondly, I worked hard at therapy, at getting myself well. I wouldn’t have even considered a relationship before then.”

“Oh Yoba, boss, are you telling me you think I need therapy?”

“No! No. But it might not hurt to get out of the valley once in a while. You see the same group of people, day in, day out. You are young, go and have some fun.”

“Thanks O Ancient One.” I know she’s feeling a little better after sharing her problems, because she’s back to her usual bantering.

“It still hurts.” She continues, with a faraway look in her eye. “I’ve had this crush for so long, I don’t know if I could ever feel this way about another person.”

I think back to how obsessed I had been with Megan all that time ago, and how completely and utterly heartbroken I’d been by her. I’d also thought I could never feel that way about someone again. “You will.” I reassure her, “But it might take some time. Took me five years.”

“Five years?! Sheesh doc, I can’t be single for five years!” She wails.

“That's not a given. ou never know, someone perfect could walk in that door right now.”

Maru turns to look at the door expectantly, and then turns back to me, with a mock- disappointed look on her face, “Nope.” Her tone is sarcastic.

“So anyway.” I glance at my watch, “I have to get back for this afternoon’s surgery. I apologise for being a terrible friend, and I’ll try to do better in future. You know I’m always here if you need me. Listen, why don’t you take the afternoon off, maybe go and meet Penny after school’s finished and try and salvage your friendship at least? You’re going to see her everyday in this tiny town.” Maru cringes at this, “Or at least try to do something nice for yourself? Go home and get working on that robot you’re always telling me about.”

She picks at the remains of her meal on her plate, she’s barely touched her food, “You don’t have to treat me with pity doc.” She’s got her chin on her hand, looking despondent.

“Take the day off Maru.”

“Nah, I’ll only sit at home and think about it. Need something to keep my mind busy until at least 3 o’clock. Plus, you have a ridiculous number of appointments today, so I’ll come back with you and help.” She sighs, “I will talk to Penny at some point though.” Her tone in unconvincing.

“You’re too good to me, especially as I’m a terrible friend.” I smile as I put on my coat.

“Yeah, you are. It’s a good job I’m an excellent friend. What would you do without me?”

Back in the office I return to my desk. On my sticky note pad in front of the computer, in a child’s handwriting is written, ‘Doctor Harvey stinks’ and a picture of a moustached figure in glasses with stench marks coming off him. Keahi must have drawn in while I was administering the flu jab to his father.

I go through to reception and stick the picture to Maru’s computer screen without a word, and for the first time that day, she laughs.

My satisfaction with helping Maru to feel better, is short-lived. It’s only after applying the last sticking plaster of the day, that I get to check my phone. Still no word from Jerusha.

Chapter Text

Three years ago, Pelican Town Clinic

“And here are the accounts for this year. All up to date. We can get those sent off to the FRIR tomorrow.”

“You, Maru Perry, are a marvel. This has saved me so much time. You’ve only been here what? Three months? And already I can’t imagine running the clinic without you.”

I check over the figures. As I read the pages, the income and expenditure, profit - just enough to get us through the next year with a little over to invest in some new more up-to-date equipment for the hospital wing; I ponder on how I ever got through the tax forms without Maru. Though I am conscientious about keeping receipts, bills, and noting down the monies coming into and going out of the clinic, the sheer act of collating that information at the end of the tax year seems insurmountable at times.

“Now,” Maru glares at me. I wasn’t aware that someone could glare at you with their whole body, she has an extraordinary talent of sometimes treating me like a child that wasn’t behaving, “The forms must be signed on page 34, 47 and 54, I’ve marked them for you. Then you need to post it in this envelope, she indicates a pre-addressed, stamped envelope paperclipped to the back of the forms, “BEFORE next Thursday, otherwise, we’ll be fined. Yes?”

“Yep.” I say lightly, putting the forms to one side, “Thanks again Maru, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I really don’t. As the townsfolk warm up to the fact that there is a new doctor in town and start to register for treatments and check-ups, the paperwork gets overwhelming. Since I took on Maru as nurse assistant, she’s taken over a good deal of that workload, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

This year has not been an easy one. The first year I was here, I had the novelty of getting to know the area, the townsfolk, I was determined to get well.

But after a while, my ‘fresh start’ started to pall. Routine at the clinic set in. I settled into a timetabled, constricting routine. Clinic work all week, the occasional foray into the saloon on rainy nights, strolls in the surrounding countryside, no change, same people day after day, same smiles, same view.

“This is what you wanted Harvey.” Points out Sarah Goldberg at my therapy session in Grampleton, “A calm stable existence, with no excitement - no drama. You know they say, be careful what you wish for.”

“I know that’s what I said, but I can’t help wondering if I’ve left one real jail for another of my own making?”

“What happened to you was no joke, Harvey. You went through a lot in a very short space of time. No-one would blame you for wanting to hide away for a while and lick your wounds until you’re ready to come out again.”

I drum my fingers on the arm of the chair impatiently, “But what if it’s too late? Life is passing me by, while I’m up in my apartment, painting model planes, watching documentaries and eating terrible food, I get deeper and deeper into a rut that it might be impossible to climb out of.”

Sarah’s eyebrow rises, “What are we really talking about here Harvey? There’s something that you are not telling me.”

I roll my eyes, Sarah knows me a bit too well, but I can’t put it into words.

“Come on Harvey, spit it out.”

I put my hand to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut, “I’m scared that before I know it, I’ll be too set in my ways. The bachelor doctor who lives alone above the clinic and sleeps in a single bed. So set in my routine, locked into being alone, that I’ll never be able to let anyone else in.”

“Are you lonely?” Sarah’s eyebrows knit in concern, “You’ve never brought it up before.”

I sigh, my last relationship had ended in such a mess, in such betrayal, that I thought I never wanted to become involved with anyone else again. But time is a funny thing, I start missing the good things about mine and Megan’s relationship. Having someone to care for, someone to share my workday with at the end of a long shift; someone to say, “That sounds awful, here, let’s eat something good, drink a glass of wine and cuddle in bed. That will make it better.” Just the proximity of someone, knowing that someone is there for you. Megan knew what to do when I had a panic attack and had a wicked wit that used to make me shake with laughter. I miss all of that. Of course, I don’t miss the selfishness, her ultimate self-centredness, the fact that while she pretended not to, she cared very deeply about how other people, especially her family, saw her, which often led her to be thoughtless. As time goes on, that becomes less important and I almost, almost miss her.

“Are you thinking about Megan again?” Sarah sits forward in her seat.

“No.” I lie. My over-defensive tone giving me away almost immediately.

“For goodness’ sake Harvey, we’ve been over this. You can’t go back to that relationship.”

“As my therapist, you’re not allowed to get angry with me.”

“I’m not angry, Harvey, I’m exasperated. I’m not sure how many times we’ve gone over the Megan issue and decided that the relationship wasn’t all you thought it was, far from it. You know it would undo all the good work we’ve done if you even talked to her, don’t you? -If that was what you were thinking of doing.”

“I was with her for five years. Even after what she did, it’s hard to just shake that off.”

“Harvey.” Sarah places the pen she’s been writing notes with, down on her desk to give me full eye contact, “Off the record. Are you still in love with her?”

I consider the question for a moment and concede, “No. Not in love with her, but in love with the good times that we had in our relationship. That feeling of wanting and being wanted, yeah, I miss it.”

“You know a new relationship at the moment isn’t going to fix you. Not that I’m saying you are broken. You’re not. It’s not fair to expect another person to solve any baggage you’d bring to a potential relationship. You need to get your own ship in order before you… join up with someone else’s…. caravan. Hm.”

I laugh, “Horribly mixed metaphor, but I know what you mean. And you’re right.”

Sarah laughs too, “Yeah, got a bit above my pay grade there didn’t I?” Her laugh relaxes the tense atmosphere, but she soon returns to earnestness. “I’m just worried that you’re going to fall back into destructive behaviours, when you’ve come on so much in the last months. I wouldn’t worry about being left on the shelf Harvey; you have plenty of time to meet someone. When you’re ready, you should find something to do – another hobby. Maybe a craft class, pottery or some such. Perhaps a keep-fit class, where you can meet other people? I mean what do you do outside clinic hours?”

I think, “I go to the library on Saturdays.”

“That’s a good start.” Sarah shrugs, “Any potential there to make a new friend?”

“Gunther’s got his own friends in Zuzu and Elliott...” I think about the handful of times I’ve spoken to Elliott. He’s fanciful, speaks in Googled quotes, and is not a little touchy. I had learned early on not to criticise his work. Even if he asked me to. He wanted praise, not constructive notes. The first time I did that, he didn’t speak to me for a month, and every time I stepped into the saloon he and Leah would move to a corner and whisper amongst themselves, sometimes stopping to glare at me.

After that, I told him everything he wrote was wonderful. It really was the entire extent of our relationship.

“Elliott is an acquaintance.” I finish up, lamely, realising that I don't have any friends in the town, despite having lived there for over a year.

“Okay, so nothing there, but you have to get yourself out there Harvey, partners don’t just turn up on the doorstep of the clinic and introduce themselves.”

Sarah Gold berg is right of course. I have to make a small effort to do something else outside of clinic time. For the rest of the week, I go out to the saloon a bit more, trying to engage in conversation, and even though I don’t have much to contribute to Willy and Clint’s banter about fishing and smithing, I do my best. But I feel as if I’m tolerated rather than accepted and it soon fizzles out.

The following Thursday, I’m in my office wondering whether to sign up for the dance aerobics class that runs in Pierre’s back room every week. Might get me acquainted more socially with the townsfolk and get me fit as well. I’ve spent too much time in my apartment this year, and I’m feeling the belt of my work trousers getting tighter. Is this what they call middle aged spread?

I shift a pile of papers to give to Maru for filing and a brown envelope slips out of the stack and slides onto the floor. I pale. The FRIS form.

I forgot to post it. I’ve had so much on my mind, with work and therapy - trying to process what Sarah and I talked about - it had completely slipped my mind.

That’s it then. This could be the end of the road for the clinic. I have no idea how much the fine might be. I might not be able to pay Maru. I could lose my home, I’ll have to start again somewhere else; my patients will be left with no medical personnel in town AGAIN.

My breath shortens as the multiple doomsday-like possibilities flood my brain and cloud my vision, closing in until it’s too crowded to breathe.

I try to loosen my tie to get some oxygen into my lungs, gasping for each breath, my heart jackhammering.

No. I don’t need a panic attack now - Is what my lucid brain would have thought, but there is no room for lucidity when you’re drowning in air.

I am vaguely aware of the office door opening, Maru must have heard me, and there is a hand on my back, between my shoulder blades. “Hey Doc, just ride it out. I’m right here if you need anything.”

She doesn’t say anything else and doesn’t move her hand to try and soothe. No advice, no panic, just a still calm presence that lets me know that she is there.

Eventually a semblance of calm returns and I can finally speak, pulse still racing, “Th-thank you Maru.”

She takes her hand from my back and exits the office without a word, returning after a moment to hand me a glass of water. “You need your meds Doc?”

Gulping the water I shake my head, “No, I think I’m good now. Thank you.”

“What set that off?”

Pushing my chair back from the desk I nod towards the floor where the envelope still lies in an accusing manner.

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I forgot to post it”

Maru smiles.

Confused, I frown, “What?”

“Open the envelope doc.”

Reaching out, I discover that the envelope isn’t sealed. And it’s empty, “What? Why?”

“Noticed it on your desk. Knew you’d forgotten about it. I couldn’t find the envelope, must have been in that pile of papers so I posted it in another. Nothing to worry about.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Must have slipped my mind. Forgetfulness is not your sole domain boss.” She smiles, but a fleeting concerned look crosses her face, “You’ve been a bit out of sorts since your last therapy session. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine- - now. Thank you for being here."

“Well, if you ever want to chat, I’m right on the front desk.”

“Thank you Maru.”

As she leaves, I realise that though Maru’s only been working in the clinic for a short amount of time, I actually do have a friend in the valley.

Chapter Text

It’s late when I get home, I stayed at the clinic to finish up some paperwork that I might have brought home with me otherwise.

There is still no word from Jerusha. Bear is sitting by his food bowl in the garden waiting to be fed as I stride up the path and he gives a single bark when he sees me, pushing his nose into my hand for pets, tail wagging.

I ruffle his ears, “Hey buddy, you waiting for Jerusha as well? That makes two of us. Let’s get you some dinner.”

Emptying a can of dog food into the bowl and adding some biscuits, I almost trip over Bear as he runs round me in excitement to eat.

I laugh despite my worry, “Okay, I get the message, you’re hungry! Me too. Here you go.”

Back inside house, it is eerily quiet without Jerusha’s sunny presence.

Once Bear has eaten, he nudges the front door open, entering the house and lays on the rug in front of the fire. I wish, not for the first time, that he could also learn to shut the door behind him. I open a can of soup and warm it up on the stove, feeling more conficent about using the hob than I did previously. Once it’s bubbling, I pour it into a cup and join Bear in the living room. He hops up on the sofa, even though he knows he’s not supposed to, and puts his snout on my lap. Every so often he looks to the door and gives a very human sigh.

“I know I’m a poor second to Jerusha, but you’ll have to make do until she gets back.”

A huff. I could swear he understands what I’m saying.

Leaving the soup half-way through, I can’t settle. I wash up the dishes to try and keep myself occupied, but my eye keeps falling to my phone.

We had made an agreement that I wouldn’t call her. Sensible decision on Jerusha’s part, because I’d probably call her a dozen times to check if she was okay, and if she was in the middle of defending herself a phone call could distract her at a crucial moment.

But it’s eight thirty pm. She is so late and there’s been no word. We usually try to be home for seven to have dinner together. Reneging on my promise, I pick up the phone.

The line goes straight to voicemail. I leave her a short message and return to the sofa where Bear has fallen asleep. He opens his eyes lazily as I move his front paws to sit again.
I try and read the new Ferngill Lancet, but I can’t concentrate on the words on the page. When it gets to nine o’clock, I get up suddenly, making a snap decision.

“Fancy a walk?” I say to Bear as I pack a bag with medical supplies, water, a foil blanket and a field snack. Putting on my winter jacket, scarf and hat, and grabbing a flashlight from the porch, Bear and I head out into the night.

I’m not sure where to go first, there’s no possibility of getting to the desert at this late hour. The walk will take hours. Instead, I climb the path towards the Perry household. Bear running on ahead, sniffing every tree; delighted to be somewhere other than the farm for a while.

I’m going to the Adventurer’s Guild, I decide. I don’t know Marlon. He’s not one of my patients and I only glimpse him at town festivals. I don’t think he and I have exchanged two words since I came to the valley.

Jerusha trusts him though. He trained her and she speaks highly of him, and that’s good enough for me.

Pushing the door open cautiously, I blink against the bright light. Bear pushes his nose inside the door too, but I pull him back and tell him to wait outside.

“Come in Doc! Cold out there tonight! Bring the dog in too! Gil loves dogs.”

Gil is an elderly man I estimate to be in his sixties. He rouses himself from his rocking chair, where he seemed to be sleeping. Bear obediently goes to Gil’s rocking chair as if he has been summoned and plonks himself down next to the bearded man, who scritches his head as if they’re old friends.

“I’m not disturbing you at all am I?” I speak in hushed tone.

“Not in the slightest doctor! We’re always open for visitors until ten pm!” Marlon is standing behind a shop counter as if waiting for customers. I wonder who else comes up here apart from Jerusha.

Behind Marlon’s head is a large poster on the wall. It’s a list of monsters killed in the mines and by whom, not unlike the names of the high scorers on the arcade games at the saloon. I see Jerusha’s name in a few places. It’s a testament to her skill, and I feel a rush of pride.

Marlon spies me taking in the poster and beams, “Ah yes, our monster hunter farmer! She is very special to both Gil and me. Also, your wife now doc, I believe. Congratulations.”

He shakes my hand.

“Thanks. Actually, I’m here about Jerusha, she went to Skull Cavern today and hasn’t come back. I wondered if there was any way you could find out where she is?”

Marlon shares a glance with Gil which I see but don’t acknowledge. Marlon nervously licks his lower lip, “Skull Cavern you say?”

I nod. I'm not sure why i came here. This is doing my anxiety no good at all.

“Fraid we can't tell you doc. We haven't been there in years. That's how i lost my eye. Never been back since. Tell you who WILL know where she is - Linus.”

“Ah, yes. Linus” echoes Gil, his fingers still deep in Bear’s fuzzy head fur.

“Then i’d best go and catch him before he goes to bed for the night. Thank you both!”

Linus. Of course. Heading out into the freezing night i carefully navigate the plank bridge over the lake, narrowly avoiding falling in when Bear tries to push past me, “You have terrible manners.” I grumble at him.

Outside Linus’ tent i call his name in a low voice. Almost immediately the flap of the tent is snatched open and Linus’s face appears looking blearily at me in the light of his ever- burning camp fire, “Harvey?” he exclaims, upon seeing me, “What brings you here doc?” His face, even half hidden by his bushy unkempt beard, exudes concern, “Come in, it’s brass monkeys out there.”

I step into the familiar tent space. Out of the biting winter wind, it’s warm, stuffy even. I have to stoop my head under the low roof until Linus roots out a camping chair for me to sit in.

“What can I do for you doc? Late for you to be out and about. Ain’t never seen you out later than ten, ten thirty at night.” He searches my face briefly, “Is Jerusha alright?”

I shake my head, “I don’t know. She left for Skull Cavern his morning and I haven’t heard from her since. I’m worried and I thought you might have a way to find out how she’s doing. I knew I shouldn't have let her go."

Linus’s reaction is not the one I expect. I expect him to side with me, and be concerned as well, after all, he lost his own wife in the mines.

Instead, he raises an eyebrow and seats himself heavily on his bed. “Doc. Jerusha is the most capable gal I’ve ever met. I get you’re worried, but you know, if you try and cage her, you’ll lose her. Take it from an old man, doc, my wife was the same. Can’t tell you how many times we fought about what I was or wasn’t happy with her doing. I regret it all now." He pauses "I’d give anything to have her back arguin' with me. Telling me how wrong I was.”

His eyes take on a faraway look, “We fought that morning. The day we lost her.” He pulls a deep sigh, before gathering himself. “Mona said that she would do whatever it took to make sure we had enough money to buy a house. I argued with her. She was so angry, she stormed off and forgot her dagger. When we found her, she only had her slingshot with her. Creatures came out of the soil apparently and overwhelmed her. If she’d had her dagger… I blame myself every day.”

The silence that follows is telling.

“You need to trust her more Doc. Just support her.”

“I do!” I protest, “I helped her pack her bag today, I’ve given her a med kit, water, food, checked over her weapons with her – twice.”

“Then why are you here?” Linus raises an eyebrow, “Who is it you don’t trust doc, her or yourself?”

I don’t answer.

“Go home Doc. She’ll be back soon, triumphant with a backpack full of treasures.”

I nod my head slowly. “Yep.”

I put my hat back on and prepare to meet the frosty night. Bear is lying by the fire outside, but he jumps up at the first sign of movement from the tent. Linus follows me out, not even bothering to put a jumper on against the cold, seemingly immune.

“She’ll be fine doc. Stop frettin’”

“Easy for you to say.” I mutter as I walk away, feeling slightly indignant. Not because Linus had given me a talking to, but because he was right.

By the time we get back to Barrowbank farm it’s past two in the morning. Bear runs ahead through the snow, down the steps to the farm and straight for the steps on the porch.

Maybe Jerusha is home?

As I get nearer, and as the porch comes into view, Bear is nosing at a black figure slumped on the wooden slats.

Oh no.

It’s Jerusha. How long has she been here on the steps, perhaps fatally wounded and alone? My heart freezes and Linus’s words return to my mind as I sprint for the figure, lying prone.

“Jerusha!” I call as I turn her over. There’s no sign of injury, or blood anywhere. That means nothing though. I’ve seen patients who looked fine, die, because they were bleeding internally.

No, no, no. This isn’t happening.

She’s freezing. Her hands are like ice, and as I find a pulse, thank Yoba, she still has one, I notice that her arms are freezing too.

Just as I am about to ring for an ambulance, Jerusha gives the tiniest of snores.

She’s asleep.

I step back for a moment, relief flooding every part of my body and making me stagger back a few paces.

Then the doctor takes over from the husband and I open the front door with my key. Scooping her up I place her gently on the sofa, covering her with the foil blanket I had taken out with me, and try to rub some circulation back in to her frozen extremities. Thankfully the fire is still blazing.

As her hands start to return to their usual colour, she stirs, “Harvey?” She is starting to shiver violently.

“Oh my love.” I murmur.

“’Forgot my key.” She mumbles. “You weren’t here.”

“I’m so sorry.” I take her in my arms and try to transfer as much of my body heat to her as possible. "I'm so sorry."

After a while, the trembling subsides, but by that time, she’s fallen asleep again, exhausted.

I carry her into the bedroom and place her on her side of the bed, covering her with the duvet and the extra blanket. I sit by the bed for a while, monitoring her breathing and pulse.

If I’d been here, I could have let her in. She was relying on me, and I let her down.

It’s a sharp lesson to learn. Going outside I retrieve her backpack from the porch, marvelling at how heavy it is and how she carried it all the way from Calico Desert.

I stay awake for the rest of the night, just watching her sleeping. Once she rouses from her slumber to roll over and reach out to my side of the bed. I curse myself for not being there for her for the second time tonight and climb into bed with her, holding her until the rooster heralds the morning.

I’ve only got myself to blame.

Chapter Text

When Jerusha’s eyes flutter awake at the rooster’s cry the next morning, she struggles in my arms trying to get up, her body fighting her with every move.

“Hey, no, not this morning, love.” I pull her closer to me, “You had a day of it yesterday. You are going to spend at least the rest of the day in the warm. Leave the farm work to me.”

“Mmmf. Hungry.” Her voice is muffled under the covers.

“I can help with that as well, what would you like?” I stroke her cheek.

“Cereal. And toast. And a croissant, there’s some in the fridge.”

“That’s okay. Want tea as well?”

She nods into my shoulder, already relaxing back into slumber.

I kiss the top of her head and slide out of her embrace. Leaving her a cup of tea on the nightstand and being still dressed in my work clothes from yesterday, I head out of the door to tend to the animals without even stopping for coffee.

I feel like the worst husband after last night. I’ve had no sleep and am out of sorts generally. Of course, the animals pick this day to be on their worst behaviour. They jostle me as I put out their feed, one of the hens gives me a vicious peck on the hand, and a pig knocks me over as I’m trying to leave the barn.

After topping up Bear’s water bowl and checking the greenhouse, I’m glad to get back to the comparative safety of the farmhouse, closing the door with a grateful sigh.

Jerusha is sitting on the sofa, bundled up in the duvet, drinking the tea I left her. I can’t look at her.

She takes a deep draught of the ginger and lemon and looks at me bursting into giggles, eyeing my dishevelled state, “Yoba honey, what happened? Did you get mugged out there?” Her expression shifts to one of care, “What did you do to your hand?”

“Oh, nothing.” I mutter, moving to the coffee maker to pour myself a cup.

“That’s not nothing, it’s bleeding.” She struggles out of her duvet wrapping and takes my hand scrutinising the wound, “Hold on.”

She pulls the med kit off the wall, where I’d installed it a couple of weeks earlier, “Come and sit down.”

Carefully and tenderly, brows bowed in concentration, she cleans the wound of blood and looks up sharply when I wince at the sting, pulling my hand away, “You are the worst patient.”

She applies a plaster as I watch her carefully, trying to gauge her mood, “All better.” She kisses me.

“Thank you doctor.”

There is a moment between us when she searches my face intently. Gently, she pulls a piece of straw out of my hair, not breaking eye contact, “What happened last night?”

I inhale, “Let me have a shower, fix you some breakfast, and I’ll tell you.”

I undress, throwing my caked-in-mud clothes in the laundry hamper, turn the dial and get under the shower, feeling the hot water reinvigorate my stiff limbs. I’m not used to physical labour. I’ve been at my desk too long. Spent the last five years sedentary. The odd dance aerobics class is hardly of benefit when I don’t go often enough for it to take any effect. I should help Jerusha out more, it’ll do me good. Maybe mend a few of the tumbledown fences. That way at least I can make myself useful.

As I’m musing, there is a knock at the bathroom door and Jerusha enters, “Room for one more?”

I smile through the condensation on the shower screen, “As long as that 'one more' is you.”

“Idiot,” She says affectionately as she undresses, throwing her clothes carelessly on the floor, and steps in, slipping her arms around my waist.

“Tell me what happened. I miss you. You aren’t here on Tuesday nights, you go to work early on a Thursday, and you went out last night?”

I grab the shower gel and Jerusha’s shower puff, “Here, let me, and I’ll tell you.”

I turn her around and as I apply the soap to her skin, I tell her what happened, every detail, how I went looking for her, checking in with Marlon and Gil and the epiphany provided by Linus and his wisdom.

As I talk I gently wash her, taking her hands and scrubbing her fingernails one by one, bringing the puff over her hips, appreciating her form. This, this little act of love, is true intimacy. Sex is fun, but it’s a fraction of our relationship. It’s easy to tell someone you love them in a heady afterglow, but this; making yourself vulnerable to someone, allowing yourself to perform acts of service, to admit your mistakes, your human frailty and have a partner accept that, it’s more difficult than ever jumping into bed with someone could be, somehow.

I know and adore every inch of her curves, her skin, each and every freckle and mole, every imperfection that somehow makes her more perfect because they are part of her.
I take my time. We have nowhere to be today, and my skin goose-pimples at her contented sighs.

“I will always be here for you from now on.” I murmur, using the soap to massage her shoulders when I come to the end of my sorry tale.

She leans against me, her skin slides against mine and I put my arms round her middle, revelling in her closeness, glad that she hasn’t moved away from me with displeasure at my recounting. I rest my chin on her head, as the water rinses us both.

Jerusha hasn’t spoken through all of this, and for once, I can’t read her reaction. She has every right to be angry with me, every right to despair a little at my constant anxiety over her.

Taking her hand, I lead her out of the shower and wrap her in the towel that I left warming on the radiator, letting her wrap her own hair. I grab a towel from the small airing cupboard and wrap it round my waist. I was going to shave, but this is more important.

“Do you trust me?” She finally speaks as back in the bedroom, I start to dry her, kneeling behind her as she perches on the side of the bed.

“Implicitly.” I kiss her neck, “I think it’s me I don’t trust. Don’t trust myself to keep you safe, don’t trust myself to be the man you think I am.”

“Harvey, honey” she says thoughtfully, “Can I tell you how it feels to me?”

I hum a reply and straddle my legs with either side of her, pulling her to me. “Always.”

“People have always tried to control me - Jojamart, Gray, my parents didn't want me to take on the farm initially. They were set on selling it when none of my brothers wanted it."

I nod, I knew this.

“You know I’ve always valued the freedom the farm afforded me. Here is where I found happiness,” She twists around to me, placing her hand over my heart, “And here.”

I take a breath, “And when I over-worry, it feels controlling.”

She looks into my eyes for a moment, then entwines her arms around my neck and squeezes me to her. “And there’s the man I married.” She smiles into my neck, “You get it. Somehow, you just get it. Can we never have this conversation again please? I’m sick of raking over old coals.”

Jerusha is so warm against my skin, her small but strong frame wrapped around me, I could stay like this forever. “I promise you that nothing but support is what you’ll get from me. I want you to be you. Unequivocally and always, you.”

“I love you Harvey.”

“I love you Jerusha, more every moment.”

For a few moments we stay wrapped up in each other, until Jerusha shifts and murmurs, “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

I laugh, “Yep, one breakfast, coming right up.”

Chapter Text

Sunday the 14th is my birthday. As a rule, I never celebrate, and haven’t done so since I arrived at Pelican Town all those years ago.

Lewis dutifully adds the date to the birthday calendar on the town noticeboard, but very few people bother. They know I don’t like a fuss, preferring to leave the annual celebration of the inevitable passing of time, un-marked and unremarkable. I usually get a card from the Perry family, with perhaps a small gift, instigated by Maru. Lewis always sends a cheap card, and there is always something from my aunt Amy in the post.

Jerusha hasn’t mentioned it recently, so I presume she has forgotten. That’s fine, it won’t be any different to any other year.

The bed is empty when I wake that morning, but I can hear Jerusha working in the kitchen, singing softly to herself. I lay in the cocoon of warmth in the bed, listening to her bustle and her song, indulging in a birthday lie-in. Bear noses his way into the bedroom, leaping gracefully onto the bed and flumping down, not so gracefully, by my side on the duvet. I scritch his ears for a while, listening to the comforting sounds of domesticity, coming through the farmhouse walls.

At length, and just when both Bear and I are dozing off again, Jerusha enters the bedroom, tray in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand.

“Good morning honey, happy birthday!” She perches her hip on the bed and leans in for a kiss, which I gladly oblige. She didn’t forget after all. How could I have doubted her?

“Breakfast in bed?” She indicates the tray, laden with the coffee jug, toast, pastries, orange juice, jams and conserves and a host of goodies from the farm, on it is a card, which I open.

On the front is a large antique anatomical drawing of a heart, and the captions reads,

‘I Aorta tell you how much I love you!’

“Another pun card, very cute."

Jerusha looks puzzled, “Another one? How do you mean?”

“You gave me a medical pun card for my birthday last year.”

Jerusha puts a hand to her face, trying to remember, “Did I? You’ve got such a great memory. I’d completely forgotten.”

“My memory’s not so great, I keep the card in my desk drawer so every time I open it, I’ll be reminded of you.”

“You kept it?” Jerusha’s mouth turns upward in amusement.

“Did I never tell you that? It’s still there and always makes me smile when I see it.” I blush.

Last year, nursing my hopeless crush on the new farmer, Jerusha had turned up at the clinic on a Sunday, bearing a large jar of pickles.

“Good morning, Doctor Brennan.” Her smile is dazzling and its warmth in the frosty morning air, somehow makes the cold a little less biting, “Happy birthday! I saw it on the noticeboard, I hope you don’t mind. I know you don’t like sweet things, so I’ve made you these.” She pushes the jar, wrapped in a large green bow into my hands, along with a home-crafted card without an envelope. I look at the front. On it, Jerusha has drawn a bone and surrounded it with the words, “I made you a 'humerus' Birthday card!

Inside it reads ‘Happy birthday Dr Harvey! Hope you have a great day!
Hope you get to ‘liver’ little!
Jerusha Howard (of Barrowbank Farm)

I can feel my mouth turn up into a smile at the silliness of the card. It must have taken some thought to produce this gift. Almost immediately, I remember that I am trying to maintain my distance, in order to not allow this crush to overwhelm me.

“Thank you. This is kind of you.”

She holds my gaze for a moment and opens her mouth as if to further the conversation. I shift my weight from foot to foot, desperately searching my mind for something, anything further to say, but I’m tongue tied, trying to hold my feelings in check, for fear of just yelling at her that I adore her. The gulf of silence stretches on for what seems an eternity.

“Well then,”

“So, I’ll see…”

We both speak at the same time. She laughs, “After you doctor.”

“Just, um, thank you for this. You always know just the right stuff to gift everyone. It must take some time and forethought to do that. You’re very considerate, not to mention generous.”

“Not with everyone.” She gives me a broad wink. Looking back, I know what that wink meant now, but at the time I was oblivious, too caught up in trying to perpetuate a professional decorum.

She seems reluctant to leave, but we’re at an impasse, here in the doorway. It doesn’t occur to me until later, kicking myself, that I should have invited her in.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She reaches into the capacious pockets of the winter parka she’s wearing, and hands me a small object, dropping it into the palm of my hand.

A birthday candle.

She grins broadly at me, “Happy birthday doc! Enjoy the pickles! If you’re coming to the saloon tonight,” She taps my arm, “I’ll be there, in my usual place at the bar! Feel free to join me. I’ll treat you to a birthday wine!"

As she moves down the path towards the farmhouse, I watch her. She turns for one final wave, shouting, “Don’t forget to make a wish!”

A year later. How different things are. If I made a wish that day, it came true in the most fantastical way. I don’t live alone anymore. I’ve had the astounding good fortune to marry this incredible woman, and if that’s all my birthday presents at once, I’m happy to never celebrate again.

Inside the card, is a quote from ‘The Little Prince’ ‘Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction’, and the words, ‘To my husband,’ my mind stalls at seeing those words in her handwriting, ‘on your first birthday here at Barrowbank farm, have a wonderful day and here’s to many, many more days of celebration together. With all my love, farmer wife.'

I kiss her with a murmured thanks.

We eat together, on the bed, getting crumbs everywhere, which Bear happily chases, watching us intently for every dropped morsel and generally making a nuisance of himself.

“You,” Jerusha taps him gently on the nose, “Are not really supposed to be on the bed. And you,” she taps me on the shoulder, “Are way too soft with this big bundle of fur.”

“Can I plead birthday rules for today?” I smile holding up my hands in surrender.

“Just for today.” She grins, covering a piece of toast with raspberry conserve.

When we finish, Jerusha takes the tray back into the kitchen and slips under the duvet to cuddle, “Happy birthday, handsome.”

“Mmm, Thank you.” I breathe, holding her close.

“I’ve got so much planned for you today. Farm work first, sorry the animals don’t stop needing care just because it’s your birthday. We’re having lunch at the saloon, and then I have a surprise for you. You might want to wear a suit.”

“I thought breakfast in bed WAS my surprise.” I stroke circles into her back, “It’s enough you know, you don’t have to do any more than this.”

“Too late Doctor Brennan-Howard. It’s all arranged.”

“What is it?”

“If I told you that it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“I can’t argue with that logic.” I murmur and for a few moments more we just lay in each other’s arms, before Jerusha plunges me into her plans.

~~**~~**~~

“Are you ready?” Jerusha exits the bedroom already bundled up in her outdoor winter clothes, ready for the trudge through the snow to the Stardrop Saloon and approaches me on the sofa.

“Yes honey, for the last half hour now.” I answer drily.

“You can’t be annoyed at me for being late to a date that I set up for your birthday honey.”

I stand up and tilt her chin to kiss her, “Never annoyed. I should know by now to give you half an hour head start.”

She tucks her arm under my elbow, laughing, “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

“No, I would not.”

“Come on you.”

At the saloon, Jerusha orders a light salad for both of us. “Don’t want to ruin your appetite for later.”

“Ah, so we’re going someplace for dinner?”

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” She teases, “That part was too easy. Of course, we’re going to go and eat on your birthday! That’s a given!”

Gus approaches us and places a green envelope on the table, “Saw it was your birthday today doc, Have a great one!”

In the envelope is a voucher, written in Gus’s neat hand on a small buff piece of card.

Bearer will receive one free meal at the Stardrop Saloon for themselves and the beautiful farmer he was lucky enough to marry.
Compliments,
Gus and staff

“Gus. You didn’t have to do that, you’ll go bankrupt at this rate.”

“Ah, it does my heart so much good to see you both happy.” Gus goes a little misty-eyed, “I’d love to give you a date night treat on an evening of your choice.”

“Thank you, Gus!” Jerusha and I chorus in tandem.

I don’t eat much at lunch, being still full of breakfast food, when Pam slams the door of the saloon, kicking snow off her boots noisily before she stomps in.

“You ready?” She shouts at Jerusha when she spies us in the corner.

I look at Jerusha, raising an eyebrow.

Pam is dressed in a black suit with a tie and a peaked cap.

“Pam!” Cries Jerusha, “You didn’t have to dress up!”

Pam grins, “Wait ‘til you see what I’ve got waiting for you outside!”

“What on earth is going on?” I mutter to Jerusha as she grabs my hand after we’ve got dressed for the weather.

Instead of answering, she pulls me outside, where Pam is holding the door open of a classic car in a sleek black.

“Rolls Royce Silver Spirit, released on the market exactly 35 years today doc!” Says Pam proudly rubbing an imaginary mark on the bonnet with her sleeve, “Took some getting hold of, but I managed it. It’s all yours for the day. And so you both can have a few glasses of wine to really enjoy yourselves, I’m gonna be your chauffeur today!”

Chapter Text

Jerusha PoV

“Shouldn’t Pam be driving the bus today?” Harvey murmurs to me as we glide the roads to Zuzu City.

“Yep. But as I’m usually her only passenger AND it’s a Sunday, thought she would make more money this way.” I flash him a grin and he smiles back. He’s not relaxed yet, I know I shouldn’t spring surprises on him, but I’ve been planning for a while and the plan was too good to spoil.

We’ve come so far him and I. I always knew there was a sweet, loyal and sometimes joyfully sassy person under that wall of shyness and anxiety. It’s taken a while for him to show me his true self, but I was confident that I’d made the right decision when I gave him that bouquet, those few seasons ago.

I’ve been up since before the rooster crowed this morning and the car ride is so smooth, this ride really is a luxury, that I doze on Harvey’s shoulder for much of the trip.
Thankfully he’s used to me napping in odd places now and just puts his arm round me to make sure I’m secure, and allows me to sleep.

The only time I wake is when I vaguely hear Harvey and Pam talking in murmured tones, I don’t register much, something about Penny, but I don’t catch any more of it, as I doze off again quickly, only waking as the car lurched into a sharp right turn.

“Are we there already?”

He laughs quietly, “Honey, we’ve been driving for an hour and a half. But I can’t blame you for sleeping, this car’s suspension is so great it’s like floating. Thank you. It was such a lovely birthday surprise.”

I put my chin on his shoulder and look at him, “You think the surprise is over? You think that THIS was the surprise?” Sighing dramatically, I kiss his cheek, “Oh, you have no idea.”

He blushes a little, “It would have been enough.” He mutters, “You never have to make a big deal of any occasion, it’s enough that you’re here.”

“Oh, but I do. It’s what I call, ‘being in love with someone’. That’s how it works Harvey, one day you’ll get used to it, don't you ever take me for granted!” I laugh.

"I never would." He grins.

“We can’t sit here all day! Pam’s going to pick us up when we’re finished, but I feel like we might be here for a while.”

“What ARE we doing?” Harvey ducks his head to see better out of the car. We’re in front of a large faceless building, with a car park full of vehicles. It’s hard to make anything out.

“You’ll see.” I open the car door. Grabbing his hand, I pull him out of the car.

“We’ll call you when we’re done Pam!”

“No worries, Farmer J! Have fun doc!” She winks and waves as she drives the car away with a merry toot of the horn.

Just then a model plane flies over head, swooping low over us. It’s an old- fashioned bi plane with a banner fluttering after it. It says in large black letters, ZUZU CITY WHEELS AND WINGS SPECTACULAR!

Harvey gazes at it for a moment, I wonder if he even sees the banner, “Sopwith Camel, F.1 Bentley engine, with twin Vickers guns.” He murmurs.

“A what, with a what?”

For a moment he’s lost in the sight of the small plane, but turns slowly to me with a smile, “Honey, only the most famous airplane of World War I!”

“Tell me.” I urge him - like he needs permission to expound on his favourite subject.

So he does, he points out details on the model that are historically accurate or of interest. While he’s talking, I spot a man moving closer to us, the controller of the plane in is hands, listening in.

“You certainly know your stuff.” He comments.

Harvey jumps and for a moment blushes a deep red, He thinks he’s overstepped some boundary that he’s invented in his head, “Oh, er, yeah. I like planes.” He finishes lamely, hand going to the back of his head, in a gesture I know well as his anxiety manifesting physically.

The man doesn’t seem fazed at all, “Welcome to Zuzu City’s annual model show! Let me bring her down and you can get a closer look at her. Then come inside and meet the gang. We’re all model makers and enthusiasts. You build?”

Harvey nods, “Yeah. It’s a hobby of mine.”

“Name’s Trevor. Zuzu City Model vehicles club president. We always like to meet newbies!”

Harvey introduces himself and me to Trevor who starts to bring the aircraft down, until he sees Harvey’s face watching intently as he manipulates the controls. “You want to give her a spin Harvey? I can’t let you land her, it can be a bit tricky, but keep her on an even keel with that button there and you can adjust the ailerons with the buttons on the side. Works a bit like a radio-controlled car.”

He hands the control pad to Harvey, and I watch as he gets to grips with flying the small craft around the air space of the car park, his eyes gimleted on the craft and his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. I can suddenly see him as a ten-year old, he looks instantly more youthful as he follows Trevor’s instructions. Gracefully arcing the plane around in wide corners so as not to get caught up in the banner flowing behind. “You’ve got quite the knack.” Trevor says to Harvey, finally taking back the controller and landing the small aircraft on the road. Harvey looks so proud, I want to hug him, but I don’t want to embarrass him in front of his new friend, so I just squeeze his hand instead. There is a slightly dreamy look to smile he gives me in return.

On Trevor’s invitation we follow him into the building. It’s a huge exhibition hall with stalls and exhibits of model vehicles of every description. Airplanes and spacecraft hang from the ceiling on transparent fishing wire, trains run round enormous tables on tracks surrounded by countryside made of foam and wood with miniature passengers waiting on tiny platforms; there are model cars of every type and colour, there are stalls selling, train sets, balsa wood, tiny pots of paint like those I’ve seen on Harvey’s desk, brushes, measuring tools. I wonder if we’ll be able to get round everything.

As soon as he steps through the door Harvey stops to take in the treasure house in the hall. He clutches my hand, “Is this the surprise?” He can’t stop feasting his eyes on the sight of the packed hall.

“Come on Harvey, Jerusha, I’ll introduce you.” Trevor leads the way through the space, every so often, Harvey slows his pace to look at something on a table, or an aircraft that catches his eye.

As we walk, Trevor chats to Harvey and asks him casual questions about his hobby, Harvey is a little flustered, I genuinely don’t think that anyone apart from me has ever shown such an interest before, and he doesn’t know how to take it.

We arrive at a large table at the other end of the hall, where a small group of men around Harvey’s age are chatting. One man is painting what looks like a TR-Starbird, a plane in Harvey’s collection.

“Is that the mark 7?” Asks Harvey, full of curiosity, which overtakes his shyness. The man looks up and smiles, “Yeah, new on the market, only came out last Wednesday.” He hands the model to Harvey, who inspects it admiringly, and they chat for a while.

Meanwhile I can smell coffee and I decide to go to the food stalls and get us both a drink. With a quick squeeze of his hand, I leave him to talk to the modellers group.

~~**~~**~~

By the time I’ve queued, ordered and paid for the drinks, it’s a good twenty minutes and I worry that Harvey will be out of his depth with a group of strangers. I’m surprised when I return to find Harvey on the other side of the stall table, sitting with the group, and not only chatting, but engrossing the listeners to a story he’s telling them. It’s my turn for my cheeks to redden when I realise - he’s talking about the time we spotted the plane together in his apartment and how I took an interest in his model plane collection.

When he finishes, with a little line about the bouquet I gave him, the guys all slap him on the back, and the man with the Starbird calls across, pointing at me, “That one’s a keeper Harvey!”

“Well Bruce, I did marry her!” Harvey calls across the group, and the men all roar in delight.

I cough, “Coffee for you honey.”

Trevor pulls apart two of the tables to let me though, “Here Mrs Brennan, come on in and take a seat. Harvey’s been telling us about how you two bonded over his plane collection.”

One of the men gives up his seat next to Harvey and they carry on talking. The conversation meanders through modelling techniques, painting, flying the model planes, problems with engines and getting hold of the right kind of fuel.

I watch my husband through all of these interactions, he’s knowledgeable and the group respond to his enthusiasm. He speaks with confidence and is never at a loss. He’s completely in his element, I realise. I’ve never really seen him like this before, not with strangers, they chat and he’s making nerdy jokes about planes, the group laugh and make jokes back. He looks more relaxed and happy than I have seen him all winter.

At first, I’d been a bit jumpy about Trevor taking my husband to talk to other people, thinking that he wouldn’t enjoy it and I was also anxious that he should see everything n the exhibition, but now I’m content to sip my tea and watch this new side to Harvey as he makes some friends. The transformation from ever anxious to being in his element is magical and I’m engrossed. Laying his hand on my knee from time-to-time, always making sure that I’m okay and not feeling left out, I find myself drawn into the conversation as well.

“You should join the club Harvey! You’re getting on so well with everyone!” Trevor roots in a sheaf of flyers on the table, “I’ll give you an application form to take away. Meetings are the first Wednesday of the month. We someyimes go to each other’s houses to check out their collections, we’d love to see yours!”

Harvey blushes with pleasure, a little smile on his face, “Thank you. What do you think honey? Have the group round at the farmhouse from time to time?”

I smile at the expectant group of faces, “I think that would be wonderful.”

And this time the group roar in approval.

After an hour of Harvey talking with the group, we finally get some time to ourselves and spend the rest of the afternoon appreciating the exhibitors’ work. Harvey visits all the stalls and I let him choose whatever he wants. By the end of the event, his arms are full of paints, three new models to make, including the latest Starbird that he’d seen Bruce working on and a brand-new, radio-controlled model plane which he wanted to try after flying Trevor’s model, various brushes, decals, stands, a new craft knife and some other bits and pieces.

“Let me pay for some of this.” He reaches into his wallet when we get to the till.

“Don’t you dare Doctor Brennan-Howard.” I warn, narrowing my eyes, “You don’t pay for anything today. Birthday rules.”

He’s quiet as the items go through the till and I swipe my card to pay for it, grabbing the receipt before he can see how much I’ve spent, but once we’re through the doors to the foyer, he puts down his load and pulls me into his arms, “Is this why you went to the mines? To pay for my birthday?”

I will never, ever lie to him, and he knows that, “Yeah, had to make your first birthday with me one to remember! And to do all this, only took one trip to the mines. Worth it I reckon!”

He kisses my forehead and holds me close, I’m expecting him to berate me, or to go into anxious mode, but “Thank you.” Is all he says, his eyes shining.

“You’re worth it. Every penny.” I whisper to him and rest my head against his chest for a moment. I mean what I say. Watching Harvey come into himself today was so wonderful, I would have considered a month in the mine worth it just to see him have fun and make friends.

Chapter Text

It’s getting late in the afternoon when Pam pulls up in Zuzu City and I’m suddenly aware of the ostentatiousness of the vehicle we’re in. People are staring, Jerusha doesn’t seem to notice, or care.

We arrive on a road that I’m familiar with and I immediately have an inkling about where we are going, “Are we having dinner at Chez Adèline?”

Jerusha turns to give me an enormous grin, “Yep!”

Of course. This is where we had our first official date and we’ve been here a few times since. It’s really one of our favourites and I’m starting to realise how hungry I am after all the exertions of the afternoon.

“Honey, it’s perfect.” I kiss her temple.

Her grin couldn’t get much wider, “I know. Isn't it?” She says excitedly.

“Hmm.” Her face falls a little when realisation dawns on her, “I’m woefully under-dressed. Something I didn’t plan for. Do you mind me not being in a posh frock this evening?” She looks genuinely disappointed in herself, as if she’d ruined the day.

“Honey, I don’t care if you’re here in a burlap sack, besides the fact that you would still look stunning, the fact that you are here with me, will make me the proudest man in Ferngill.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She kisses me, but the kiss is cut short by Pam’s voice, “Cut that out you two, I don’t mind driving you about, but don’t start getting busy in the back there.”

Jerusha laughs raucously as we pull into the car park making me laugh too. “I’ll be here for you at 7.15 on the dot!” Pam waves again as she reverses the car towards the entrance, turning around in the road.

“Where is she going?”

Jerusha shrugs. “She said that she had family in Zuzu, so she’s taking the opportunity to see them while she’s here.”

“Convenient.”

“Yeah, this has all worked out beautifully!”

I can’t remember ever being spoiled like this in my whole life. Earlier it felt like a lot, too much attention. but meeting a group of like-minded people this afternoon, then spending time alone with my wife, giving me time to decompress. It’s perfect. I have so many great memories with Jerusha in such a short time. I can’t help but sometimes compare her to Megan, the only other significant romantic relationship in my life. Gift giving came easily to Megan coming, as she did, from a well-of background; never caring how much things cost, she would throw expensive presents at you with very little thought behind it.

But today, Jerusha has considered everything, and worked so hard to plan and pay for it. I’m almost embarrassed by how much she has done to make my day special.

I’m surprised when the waitress doesn’t give us menus when we are seated at our usual table. She lights a candle for us on the table, creating a yellow light that is captured in Jerusha’s grey eyes as she watches the waiter pour us two glasses of red wine.

I pick up my glass at Jerusha’s prompt. She’s already picked up her glass and is holding it in front of me to toast. “Here’s to my husband, may we share every birthday from now on, in love and health and happiness! Cheers!”

“Cheers.” We clink glasses and drink. Taking a small sip, I am puzzled. “This isn’t what you usually order.” I say, sniffing the bouquet of the ruby liquid in my glass. We usually just have the house red, but this wine, has a much more fruity, fuller taste. It’s the best wine I think I’ve ever tasted. I take another experimental sip.

Jerusha’s eyes sparkle in the candlelight, “Do you like it?”

“Like it? We should buy a whole barrel of it!”

Jerusha throws her head back and laughs, taking my free hand in hers, “Do you remember our first date here?”

I nod, how could I forget? She wore a midnight blue dress that hugged her figure, with silver star earrings and her hair down, allowing it to flow over her shoulders. She’d asked me to stay the night afterwards, but circumstances conspired against us, and I went home alone. Every detail is branded into my memory.

Jerusha nods too. “And do you remember the gift you gave me that night?”

Again, I nod, “I gave you seeds for the farm. I never apologised for that. I should have given you jewellery or something special.”

“Harvey,” Her face is serious, “Those seeds saved the farm! They’re how I started the wine making project! This,” She raises her glass, “Is the very first bottle I produced from the fruit of those seeds! I saved it for your birthday! I sell it to all the top restaurants in Zuzu now! If it weren’t for that first pack you gave me, I would never have been able to afford the upgrades on the farm, and you and I would be living in that pokey little tumble-down room of my Grandfather’s!”

I laugh, “Or my little apartment above the clinic. I think we could have made it work though.” I bring her wrist to my lips and kiss the pulse point.

“We would definitely have made it work.” Jerusha beams.

Without our having ordered anything, the waiter brings our first course. I’m slightly confused.

“Okay, so this is also part of the surprise.” Jerusha smiles sweetly, “French onion soup, with shaved truffle and a dash of truffle oil. All from Barrowbank Farm and ALL crops that you helped me with, including the wheat for the bread. You remember when you were sick and you helped tie up the wheat sheaves in summer ready for milling?” She grins at me before continuing, “The onions were pulled up the morning of the flower dance, you ate some of them in the stew we shared that evening. And the truffles are from the pigs, you know, the ones that always try to knock you over!”

“And very often succeed.” I laugh. “Jerusha, this is incredible. You set all this up just for me. I’m speechless. No-one has ever made this much effort or consideration for my birthday before.”

“Are you joking?” She puts out her hand to me and entwines her fingers with mine over the table, “Have you any idea how hard I worked on you to get you to even talk to me last year? Don’t tell me about hard work!”

I blush, “I know honey. I’m sorry. If we had this to do all over again, I’d sweep you into my arms on the very first day I met you.”

She takes a sip of her wine, looking at me over the glass with an impish smile on her face, “No, you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t but I would seriously think about it. For about a year maybe, probably.”

“Idiot.” Jerusha smirks and clinks my glass again.

The main course is a French version of the Ferngill favourite, the so-called Super Meal. It's a baked artichoke heart, I recognise these now, stuffed with bok choi and cranberry, with goat’s cheese and bread crumbs sprinkled on top.

“Do you remember that time we cooked together? You had artichoke for the first time? I thought we would have it again, but the chef insisted on doing a French version of it.”

“It’s delicious.” I admit, “Almost as good as yours.”

“Almost!” She laughs.

For dessert, Jerusha has Eton mess with strawberries from her farm, meringues made with eggs from her chickens and fresh cream; and I have crackers and fruit from her greenhouse orchard.

We finish up with a coffee. Blowing in the small cup to cool the hot liquid, I recognise the aroma. “Is this Gus’s special blend?” my eyebrow raises as Jerusha squeals with joy, “Yes! I persuaded Gus that this recipe was too good to keep to himself, so I took some samples out to the restaurants I sell to, and they loved it! Gus makes a small fortune out of it and YOU get to have your favourite coffee in our restaurant of choice!”

“You are a wonder. I keep hearing from people how much you’ve improved the town. Not just for me but for everyone. I am not sure I’ve ever ‘fitted’ in Pelican Town, even after 5 years, but you, you slotted straight in.”

We chat for a while longer and Jerusha takes care of the bill. The chef comes out to greet her and thank her for all the fresh produce she brings him. He also presents me with a birthday card adorned with a picture of a helicopter. The inside is signed by the staff. I’m touched by the small gesture from this place that has come to mean so much to Jerusha and myself.

Jerusha checks her phone, "Yoba, look at the time." She swallows her tea in one gulp. Pam will be here in a minute to pick us up for the next installment of your day!"

To shouts of 'Bon anniversaire' and 'Bon nuit!' we hurry out into the cold night air.

Chapter Text

Pam greets us as we bundle into the car at 7.15 precisely. Jerusha hands her a large bag, chock full of hot food to Pam to enjoy. She looks shocked at the gift, “Oh, wow. I don’t know what to say,” Pam’s eyes widen, “Glazed yams? My favourite! I’ll eat this before I go to my sisters. After I’ve dropped you two off of course.” She adds hastily.

This journey in the car is short, less than ten minutes before we arrive at Zuzu city concert hall. Pam opens the door for us in true chauffeur style, “I’ll be back from my sister’s when the concert ends, to drive you both home.” She holds up the yams, “Thank you for these!”

“Concert?”

“Cool your jets, flyboy. You’ll find out when we get in there.”

“You know you could just tell me.” I take both of her hand.

“Would you like me to?” She spins around to face me, looking excited.

“Actually no, I ‘d rather have the surprise thanks.”

Jerusha gestures to her mouth making a zipping motion with her fingers, “No spoilers from me then.”

Proudly producing two tickets to give to the usher, Jerusha leads the way into the auditorium space. As we walk in, I let out and involuntary, “Oh!” of surprise and joy.
There are chairs and tables set out in the style of an old-style Parisian café, a large floor space, and a stage on which some musicians are setting up. The entire room is lit by hundreds of candles, the flickering yellow flames adding a magical atmosphere to the room. I look into Jerusha’s eyes in the glow of the candlelight, “Yoba, you are stunning. I still can’t believe that you let me into your life. Thank you.”

“Harvey,” She sits after I take her coat and put it over the back of her chair; she takes my hand, “I didn’t let you into my life, you let me into yours. You were the most closed off person I’ve ever met and little by little, you allowed me to get closer to you. I should be thanking you, for letting me see the real you. For allowing me access after you’d shut everyone else out.”

I look down and blush, fortunately at that moment the conductor enters. I look around surprised, the auditorium has filled up quickly and we’re surrounded by people.
Jerusha grabs a programme from a nearby usher and passes it to me.

The cover proclaimed.

Jerusha’s lips curl into a smile, “I hope this is the perfect end to our day.”

“Sweetheart, YOU are perfect.”

We get more wine from the bar. I’ve had a few glasses now and I’m very glad neither of us will be driving home. I have a day off tomorrow, to nurse any hangover I might have in the morning.

I’m not drunk but feeling more relaxed and mellow and when the band strikes up, Jerusha leans on me and I put my arms around her resting my chin on her hair as she strokes my arms wrapped around her middle.

Some couples are up and dancing in the floor space in front of the orchestra at the first song. I know Jerusha loves to dance, and I wish I had the courage to take her dancing more. She drums the beat of the songs with her fingers on my arm.

“Would you like to dance honey?” I murmur into her ear.

“Not yet, I’m happy to watch with you for a while.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

I feel her grin and she pinches me, “Husband, you know me too well.”

“That’s the idea.”

We sit throughout most of the concert like this, Jerusha wrapped in my arms, but when the conductor announces the last song, Jerusha looks up at me with pleading eyes.
“Harvey, can we dance now? I know you don’t enjoy it much, but I’d like to have at least one dance with my husband on his birthday?”

I can hardly turn her down. We haven’t danced together since the wedding. She’s done so much for me today and in our lives, I owe her this much.

I pull her up to her feet, “Mrs Howard Brennan, may I have the pleasure?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She giggles.

The band softly plays ‘At last’ by Etta James and we sway to the music, and the lyrics seem almost to be written for how I feel about my wife.
I’m by no means a dancer, so all we do is move slowly in time to the music. I have one hand round Jerusha’s waist and her other hand in mine.

At last

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

“You know I think of you every time I hear this?” I say to her smiling.

“Really?” She leans her head on my chest as we sway gently.

The skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

“Yeah,” I whisper, “It never had much meaning for me before, but when I met you, I realised, I knew exactly what Etta James was singing about.”

“Oh yes?” Jerusha tilts her chin to look at me.

I found a dream, that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known

“Being lonely is not about being alone. You can be surrounded by people and still be lonely. Very few people bothered to get to know me, even though I saw them every day. That was really my fault, I suppose, hidden away in my little apartment. But you, you changed everything for me. You know I’ll always be grateful for that. I’ve had a wonderful day, but to be here, with you, that’s your greatest gift to me."

You smiled, you smiled

Oh, and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

For you are mine...

At Last

The music comes to a swirling close, and we break apart to join in with the applause.

After taking a bow, conductor gets the orchestra on its feet and they take a bow too. The crowd murmurs as the lights go up and people start to leave. It’s 10pm. The day has been tiring and I’m starting to feel it. We still have the drive back, which means we probably won’t be home until after midnight. Good job I don’t have work tomorrow, I can spend the morning helping Jerusha on the farm. She’ll be tired too.

In the car, with the smooth slightly rocking motion of the road under the tyres, and the white noise of the engine, we both fall asleep on the back seat, and the journey goes by in an instant before we’re tumbling through the door, back at Barrowbank Farm.

Bear, who was sleeping on his bed in front of the fire’s glowing embers of this morning, raises his head when we come in, but he’s too comfortable and warm to move much. After sauntering over for a fuss from us both, he returns to his place by the cosy fire, turning around at least five times before he settles again, as is his habit.

“I know how he feels.” I say yawning, pulling Jerusha to me, “This has been the best day honey, thank you for the millionth time. I think I’m going to get a quick shower and go straight to bed.”

“Don’t you want your final present?” She smiles at me, a glint in her eye.

“Honey, Yoba, you’re spoiling me. You’ve already spent so much on me. We’ll never make it through the winter!” I laugh.

“Oh, don't worry” Says Jerusha, reaching to undo my tie, “This present I bought for me, and you get to unwrap it very, very slowly.”

“What? What is…?.”

Jerusha doesn’t allow me to finish the question, engulfing my mouth with her own in a deep kiss, then leads me by the hand to our bedroom. As I peel off her top to allow me access to her, she looks at me shyly and steps back a little to reveal the new underwear she's bought for herself in a sunset orange colour that stands out beautifully against her skin.

Oh. Right. I get it.

“Happy birthday honey.” She murmurs in my ear.