Country Midwife, Christmas Bride
(A book in the Willowmere Village Stories series)
(2009)
A novel by
Abigail Gordon
Dear Reader
Having been brought up happily enough in a Lancashire mill town, where fields and trees were
sparse on the landscape, I now live in the countryside and find much pleasure in the privilege of
doing so. It gives me the opportunity to write about village life, with its caring communities and
beautiful surroundings.
If you have been following the lives and loves of the doctors and nurses in the Cheshire village of
Willow-mere as the seasons come and go, I do hope that you have enjoyed my quartet of books
about this close community of caring country folk. Maybe soon we will go back there once again to
see what has been happening in Willowmere. For now I hope you enjoy COUNTRY MIDWIFE,
CHRISTMAS BRIDE, featuring Dr James Bartlett and new midwife Lizzie Carmichael.
Whatever the future holds for the beautiful village of Willowmere, I wish you all happy reading.
CHAPTER ONE
THE first thing Lizzie Carmichael did when she arrived back at the cottage after the wedding was to
ease her feet out of the elegant but not very comfortable shoes she’d worn as part of her outfit.
The second was to put the kettle on, and while it was coming to the boil there was something else
she needed to do—take stock of the rented property that she’d moved into late the night before.
There’d been no time during the morning as the marriage of her friend Dr David Trelawney to
Laurel Maddox, a practice nurse, had been arranged for eleven o’clock and by the time she’d sorted
out some breakfast in a strange kitchen and dressed carefully for the special occasion it had been
time to present herself at the church in the Cheshire village of Willowmere where the wedding was
to take place.
The cottage she was renting had been David’s temporary home while he’d been having an old house
beside a beautiful lake renovated for Laurel and himself. He’d only moved into his new home the
day before, which had made her arrival a last-minute thing.
The wedding had been a delightful occasion and a pleasant introduction to the surrounding
countryside, but Lizzie was in Willowmere to work. She’d transferred from St Gabriel’s, the big
hospital in the nearest town where she’d been employed ever since she’d qualified as a midwife,
and where she’d got to know David, to take up a position in local health care that she just hadn’t
been able to refuse.
She’d been offered the chance to take charge of a new maternity centre that would be functioning in
just one week’s time in an annexe adjoining the medical practice on the main street of the village.
It would be a place where local mothers who wanted to have their babies at home would not have to
rely on the services of a community midwife from the hospital some miles away, but would receive
care before the birth, during the birth and in the sometimes traumatic days afterwards on a more
personal level and from a much nearer source, under the supervision of a senior midwife.
The project was being funded by Lord Derringham, a local landowner who was on the board of
governors at St Gabriel’s, and it was due to be officially opened on the coming Friday by his wife.
Before then Lizzie would be taking a keen interest in the final arrangements that were being put in
place and if necessary introducing ideas of her own, while at the same time getting to know the rest
of the staff in the village practice.
The person she was going to be involved with the most was the senior partner at the practice, James
Bartlett. She would be answerable to him with regard to any emergencies that occurred either before
a birth or during it, and would take his advice as to whether the mother-to-be should be transferred
to St Gabriel’s with all speed, or just as a necessary precaution.
He’d been best man at the wedding in the old stone church and before the ceremony had begun
she’d introduced herself to him. He’d seemed pleasant enough, but there hadn’t been time to say
much under the circumstances and she was hoping that come Monday it would be different.
She’d brought some ideas of her own with her and would be eager to discuss them with him, and at
the same time be ready to take note of what he had to say from his point of view. Until then she was
going to spend what was left of the weekend getting to know the place that was going to be her
home for the foreseeable future.
When she’d been asked if she would take on the responsibility of the new venture she’d agreed
without hesitation. Since she’d lost Richard, her husband, in a pile-up on the motorway three years
ago and in the horrendous aftermath of the accident had also lost the baby that would have been
their firstborn, her job had become the only thing she had left to hold on to and she gave it
everything she’d got.
David had also worked at St Gabriel’s, then as a registrar, before deciding to move into rural health
care, and she was going to be doing the same.
When he’d mentioned that he would soon be vacating the cottage he was renting in Willowmere to
start married life in the house by the lake, she’d got in touch with the letting agents and now here
she was. Just across the way was one of the special attractions of the place: a flower-filled peace
garden that she’d been told was the pride of the local folk who had paid to have it put there and
contributed to its upkeep.
She’d sold their house after Richard and the baby had been taken from her, unable to bear seeing the
nursery he’d been working on half-finished, and conscious all the time of the empty half of the bed
that would always be there to remind her.
The leafy suburb where they’d lived had been left behind and she’d moved into an apartment near
the hospital…and at the same time had bought a single bed.
It had been a modern, impersonal sort of place where she’d eaten and slept, and she would probably
have stayed there for ever if the Willowmere position hadn’t come up. Now she’d gone to the other
extreme and was renting a small limestone cottage in an idyllic Cheshire village that she hadn’t seen
until the night before.
When she’d made the tea and sipped it slowly in her new surroundings, off came the suit she’d
worn for the wedding, on went jeans and a sweater, and back went the long fair swathe of her hair
into a ponytail as she began to unpack the boxes that held her belongings.
Once that had been accomplished it was time to find a shop as the only food in the place was a loaf
she’d brought with her and a packet of cereal, which would have made rather dry eating if she
hadn’t noticed a farmer delivering milk to nearby properties and been able to obtain a supply from
him. He’d asked if she wanted a regular delivery and she’d been quick to say yes. It would be one
less thing to shop for when she was busy at the clinic.
On her way to seek out the shop, or hopefully shops, Lizzie was promising herself that if she should
come across a cafe of some sort she was going to eat there as it was beginning to feel a long time
since she’d had food at the wedding reception.
There was something along those lines, she discovered. The atmosphere in the Hollyhocks Tea
Rooms was welcoming and the food was excellent. She would be dining there again, she decided as
she left the place. As she looked around her, taking in her surroundings, she saw the doctor who’d
been best man at the wedding coming towards her with a young child on either side of him. She
recognised the twins, a boy and a girl that she’d already seen once that morning in the company of a
dark-haired, youngish woman and an elderly lady.
James Bartlett was smiling as they drew level and as she observed the bright-eyed little girl and
solemn small boy he said, ‘Hello, Lizzie. You won’t have met my children.’ He placed the palm of
his hand on top of each of their small golden heads. ‘Pollyanna and Jolyon.’
‘I saw them at the wedding,’ she told him with an answering smile, ‘but didn’t realise they were
yours. I suppose that having your best man’s duties to perform they were with their mother.’
‘We haven’t got a mummy,’ the boy called Jolyon said matter-of-factly. He pulled at the neck of the
smart little shirt he’d worn for the wedding. ‘I’m too hot, Daddy.’
‘We’ll be home soon,’ his father told him, ‘and then you can change into your play clothes.’
His sister was looking down at Lizzie’s feet, now encased in comfortable casual shoes, and into the
silence that followed his father’s reply she said, ‘Where are your blue shoes?’
James’s smile was fading fast. This is just too embarrassing, he was thinking. He’d only stopped to
say a brief hello to Lizzie Carmichael and within seconds Jolyon had told her about the great gap in
their lives, and as Pollyanna had a thing about clomping around in Julie’s shoes, no doubt she would
ask Lizzie if she could try her shoes on some time.
‘The shoes are at the cottage where I’m living,’ Lizzie told her easily. ‘They were hurting my feet.’
‘I wear my mummy’s shoes and pretend I’m grown up,’ Pollyanna explained.
‘Yes, well,’ her father interrupted gently, ‘perhaps we can talk about that another time, eh, Polly?’
He smiled apologetically at Lizzie. ‘The person you saw with the children was Jess, their nanny,
and somewhere nearby would be Helen, my housekeeper. You’ll no doubt get to meet them soon.
Willowmere is a very friendly village.’ And with his son tugging to be off and his daughter wanting
to linger, he wished Lizzie a brisk goodbye and the trio went on their way.
Lizzie felt embarrassed that she’d been so presumptuous as to take for granted that the slender dark-
haired woman she’d seen with the children was their mother. She wondered what had happened,
and hoped she hadn’t upset them. It had been an easy enough mistake to make as they’d seemed so
content in the woman’s company.
It was out of character, though, as after losing Richard and the baby she never presumed anything,
took nothing for granted. If something good happened in her private life it was a bonus, and there
hadn’t been many of those over the last few years.
Meeting David and subsequently the lovely Laurel, who’d had her own bridges to build, had been
one, and she hoped that one day she might have the pleasure of seeing the young bride at her
maternity clinic. But there would be plenty of time for that, and she, Lizzie, would be around for all
of it as she intended to settle permanently in Willowmere, circumstances permitting.
She’d been going to ask James about the shops in the village but had been sidetracked by the
children, and now as she looked around her Lizzie saw that there was no need to have enquired.
They were all there on the main street, one after the other, starting with the post office at one end,
an attractive delicatessen next to it, then the usual butcher’s, bakery, greengrocer’s and the rest, all
of them with a quaint individuality of their own that set them apart from the usual shopping
facilities of the modern age.
As James walked up the drive of Bracken House, his detached property next to the surgery, with the
children skipping along in front, he was wishing that his introduction to the latest member of health
care in the village had been more dignified.
Theirs was going to be essentially a working relationship and already Polly and Jolly in their
innocence had turned it into something less official, and he’d ended up reciting his domestic
arrangements as if by some remote chance Lizzie might want to hear them.
She was an unknown quantity and that was how he would like it to stay until Monday morning.
Time then to see if the bright star of the maternity unit at St Gabriel’s was going to be the right one
for Willowmere and the nearby rural communities.
He was well pleased that home births were being highlighted through the generosity of Lord
Derringham, and knew that his lordship would have insisted that his project be properly staffed, and
he supposed that what little he’d seen of the newcomer so far was reassuring.
She was in her early thirties, according to the information he’d been given, which made her five or
so years younger than himself, and was unattached which he supposed could mean anything. But
her having moved into the tiny cottage that David had been renting seemed to indicate that as well
as being unattached Lizzie Carmichael lived alone…though he was presuming, of course.
At the opposite side of the surgery there was an annexe built from sturdy local stone, as were most
of the buildings in the village, and the new maternity unit was taking shape inside.
The annexe had served various purposes over the years. At one time it had housed James’s sister,
Anna, who was now working out in Africa with her husband, Glenn.
After years of separation, they had married in January and were finally living their dream, and
James was delighted for them.
The inside of the annexe had now been gutted and the whole structure altered to accommodate the
needs of the expectant mothers who would be attending the centre, and now the woman whose
calling brought her in touch with other women’s babies all the time had arrived in Willowmere.
When Lizzie went upstairs to bed that night the shoes she’d worn for the wedding were where she’d
taken them off. She remembered the interest that James’s little girl had shown in them, which she
supposed wasn’t surprising. They had high heels, open, strappy fronts, and were made out of pale
blue leather to match the suit she’d been wearing. They’d been an extravagance of the kind that she
rarely allowed herself and hadn’t been all that comfortable when it came to wearing them, but to the
small Pollyanna they must have seemed quite exciting if she was into putting her small feet into her
mother’s old shoes.
It was the evening of what had been a mellow Sunday in September. James had read the children a
bedtime story and as their eyelids were beginning to droop he was about to go downstairs for a
quiet hour with a new medical journal that he’d been trying to find time to read when through the
window on the landing he saw the midwife walking alongside the river that ran behind the house
and the practice.
Lizzie was alone and there was a solitariness about her that was so unmistakable that he forgot how
he hadn’t wanted to be involved with her out of working hours and he opened the back door of
Bracken House and called, ‘Hi, there, it’s a beautiful night. Are you getting used to your new
surroundings?’
She halted beside the fast-flowing river as he walked down to his garden gate.
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘So far I’m acquainted with Willow Lake because of David and Laurel, have
dined in the excellent tea rooms, shopped on the main street, and now I’m exploring the river bank,
but not for long as I intend to have an early night. It’s been hectic moving here at the last minute
and I want to be on top form for tomorrow.’
‘So you haven’t had anyone to help you with the move?’
‘Er, no,’ she said, seeming mildly surprised at the question. ‘It was no problem, though. I’m used to
sorting out my own affairs.’
‘Would you like to come in for a cold drink or a coffee?’
She hesitated for a moment, then said politely, ‘Yes, thank you. It is rather warm. A cold drink
would be nice.’
He nodded and opened the gate that gave him access to the river bank, and as he led the way into
the house Lizzie was still wishing she could act naturally with this man who was going to be a close
colleague in the days and weeks to come.
Maybe it was because he was so impressive to look at, or perhaps she wasn’t as confident as she’d
thought she was over her new appointment. Whatever it was, he was giving her the opportunity to
get to know him better and she supposed she may as well accept the offer of some light
refreshment.
The house, when she went inside, was impressive by anyone’s standards, pleasant, roomy, with
children’s clutter in a couple of the rooms. Pointing to doors down a side passage, James said, ‘That
is my housekeeper’s domain during the week, a sitting room and bedroom where she can do her
own thing. At weekends Helen usually goes home. She has one of the new apartments further along
the river bank.’
Lizzie nodded. She was looking around her and thinking that the cottage she was renting would fit
into a corner of Bracken House, yet it was big enough for her needs in the solitary life she’d chosen.
He’d gone into the kitchen to get the drinks and while he was there her glance was fixed on a
photograph of a smiling raven-haired woman holding a tiny baby in each arm. It had to be the
mother, she thought, and the infants had to be the children who had both captivated her and aroused
her curiosity the day before.
When James brought a jug of home-made lemonade in, he saw the direction of her gaze but made
no comment, and after her wrong assumption when she’d had the nanny down for the mother,
Lizzie was not going to risk a repeat of that kind of thing.
‘You will have seen the new centre from the outside, no doubt,’ James said, steering the
conversation towards less personal channels. ‘What do you think of it?’
She smiled and he thought she should do it more often. ‘What I’ve seen so far is impressive. I
haven’t met Lord Derringham, but from what I’ve heard he isn’t sparing any expense.
‘I’ve also been told that as well as it being a thank-you gesture to the practice for the care that
David and Laurel gave to his son when he had an accident up on the moors, his lordship has a
young family of his own and is keen to see first-class maternity care in Willowmere and the
surrounding villages.’
‘That is correct and the reason why you are here.’
‘Mmm. I’m known as workaholic and I suppose it’s true. Midwifery is the most rewarding of
occupations and comes with the responsibility of bringing new life into the world carefully and
safely for the sake of the newborn and its mother.’
She finished her drink and was getting up to go, feeling that she’d flown the flag enough for her
love of the job. James could have invited her in solely to be hospitable and she’d been going on like
someone with a one-track mind, yet wasn’t that what she was? There was nothing else in her life to
wrap around with loving care, just the mothers and babies that came and went.
‘Thanks for the drink,’ she said as she stepped into the dusk. ‘Until tomorrow, then?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, until tomorrow.’
As he put out the empty bottles for Bryan Timmins, the farmer who delivered the milk each
morning, and then locked up for the night, James was glad that he’d invited Lizzie in for a drink.
He’d been wrong to think that Monday would have been early enough to get to know the
newcomer. He’d got a new slant on her in the short time they’d been together and was going to feel
more relaxed in her company when they met up again in the morning.
Her devotion to the job was clear to see and would be most welcome, but he was just a bit
concerned that it seemed to have such a hold on her, as if there was nothing else that mattered. Yet
he could be wrong about that. She could have lots of other interests that she hadn’t mentioned, as
during their first conversation of any length Lizzie was hardly going to recite chapter and verse all
the things that made up her life. They were her affair and hers alone.
He hadn’t told her he was a widower, had he, though he wasn’t sure why. He made no secret of it in
his dealings with either of the sexes, yet with her the words had stuck in his throat, and even if she
was the least curious of women, he would expect her to wonder why his children had no mother.
No doubt Lizzie would find out soon enough that he was the most sought-after catch in
Willowmere, with lots of experience in dodging the net.
Monday morning came and at Bracken House it was time to get ready for the children’s first day of
a new school year. Jess had arrived with her usual promptness and as she gave the children their
breakfast and sorted out the new uniforms that went with the new term, Helen was busy in the
kitchen, putting together a packed lunch for Jolyon, who didn’t like school dinners.
It was as James came down the stairs, showered and dressed in one of the smart suits that he wore at
the practice, that the phone rang. When he picked it up a voice that was beginning to sound familiar
spoke in his ear.
‘James, forgive me for bothering you, but you’re the only person I know in this place,’ Lizzie cried
frantically. ‘There’s a bull at my kitchen window. I’d left it open and it’s staring at me while it’s
munching one of the plants on the window sill. I’ve never been so near one before and I’m scared. I
don’t know what to do.’
‘It will belong to Bryan Timmins, who delivers your milk,’ he said as he watched Helen put his
breakfast on the table. ‘I’ll be right over. Keep the door shut, Lizzie, and I’ll phone Bryan to come
and get it while I’m on my way.’
‘Please don’t be long,’ she begged. ‘It’s nearly finished eating the plant and I’m scared what it’s
going to do next.’
‘I’m coming,’ he promised, and before the children got wind of it and wanted to come he was
striding swiftly down the main street to where the cottage stood beside the peace garden, which he
was relieved to see had so far escaped the wanderer’s appetite.
When Lizzie opened the door to him, wrapped in a tightly belted robe with hair hanging limp from
the shower, she said anxiously, ‘It’s still there! I don’t know what to do, James!’
‘All right,’ he soothed as he went through to the kitchen. ‘Bryan is on his way. We’ll soon have it
back where it belongs.’ He smiled when he saw the unwelcome visitor. ‘It isn’t a bull, Lizzie. She’s
just a harmless cow from his dairy herd that has wandered through the broken fence at the bottom
of your garden. I’ll point her in the right direction while we’re waiting for Bryan to show up.’
He opened the back door of the cottage, went outside and herded the obedient cow towards the gap
in the fence.
As Lizzie watched in complete mortification he stopped and looked down at his feet and she saw
that Daisy had left a calling card. James had stepped in a cow pat.
With his expression giving nothing away, he continued herding the intruder towards the field from
where it had come, and Lizzie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
What a ghastly beginning to her first day at the village practice, she was thinking. It was almost
time to put in an appearance and she was only half-dressed, hadn’t had any breakfast, and her
knight in shining armour was going to have to change his trousers, which were spattered around the
bottoms, and clean up what looked like a pair of hand-made shoes.
At that moment the farmer appeared and apologised for his animal’s wanderings. ‘Daisy wouldn’t
harm you,’ he said. ‘Will you forgive her for the intrusion on to your property if I mend your
fence?’
‘Yes,’ she agreed weakly.
On receiving her agreement, he went to take charge of the cow and when James returned to the
cottage she said awkwardly, ‘I’ll pay for the dry cleaning and any damage to your shoes.’
‘Forget it,’ he said easily. ‘That’s what country life is all about. I’m going to go and get changed and
will be hoping that my breakfast hasn’t dried up in the oven. What about you? Have you eaten?’
‘Not yet, no,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘I’m so sorry for making such a fuss. The thought of being
late on my first day at the clinic doesn’t bear thinking about, so I’m going to grab a slice of toast
and then get dressed…and thank you for coming to my aid. I don’t usually freak out like that, I can
assure you.’
‘I’m sure you don’t,’ he told her, ‘but even a harmless cow can seem menacing when close to. Bye
for now, Lizzie,’ he said. He paused with his hand on the latch of the garden gate. ‘Make sure you
have a proper breakfast, not just a piece of toast. There’s no rush. The mothers-to-be aren’t queuing
up for your services yet, so no need for further panic.’
He’d been smiling as he’d said it, but as she went back inside Lizzie wondered just how much
James had meant it. Had he seen the episode with the cow as a confidence crisis on her part? If he
had, she would have to remind him that she was here to see babies safely into the world. The animal
kingdom was someone else’s responsibility.
Lizzie ignored James’s advice not to skip breakfast and had just a glass of milk before quickly
drying her hair and then putting it in a long plait that swung smoothly against her shoulders. It was
hardly the height of fashion but was soon done and time was something she hadn’t got if she wasn’t
going to be late at the clinic.
Uniform, tights and shoes were soon on, followed by a swift application of make-up, and she was
on her way, carrying the case that went everywhere with her when on duty.
She would be hungry before the morning was over, she thought as she hurried along the main street,
but it was an important day in her life and she was not going to be late for it.
Every time she thought about the cow at her window her face burned. The animal hadn’t got horns,
she should have known it wasn’t a bull, but she would still have felt most uneasy at finding it there.
There were children on the street, all heading for the village school and the first day of term. Ahead
of her she could see James’s twins skipping along beside the nanny and she wondered what she did
for the rest of the day during term time once she’d seen them safely inside.
When James stepped out of the front door of Bracken House he saw her coming up the street with
the brisk grace of a woman who was in charge of her life, and thought whimsically that there was
no resemblance to the dishevelled person who’d begged him to come quickly and get rid of her
unwelcome visitor earlier that morning.
This was the real Lizzie Carmichael, he thought, dressed in the standard blue uniform of her calling,
with hair swept back into a plait of all things and sensible flat shoes on her feet that bore no
resemblance to the ones that Polly had admired.
His daughter hadn’t been the only one who had noticed the wedding guest in pale blue elegance.
Though his interest had been only mild curiosity until she’d introduced herself as the person
appointed by St Gabriel’s to be in charge of the new maternity clinic. Since then it seemed as if she
was everywhere he turned.
‘Well done,’ he said in a low voice when she was near enough to hear him, ‘but you haven’t eaten,
have you? You can’t have, there hasn’t been time.’
‘No. I’ve had a glass of milk, though.’
‘I see. So shall we go inside? I’m sure you must be eager to see where you’re going to be working.
Once you’ve had a good look round and I’ve introduced you to the surgery staff I suggest you pop
across to my place and Helen will make you a pot of tea and a bacon sandwich, or whatever you’re
used to at this time of day. I think we can manage without you for half an hour or so.’
Lizzie could feel her colour rising. She wasn’t used to being looked after. He’d already done her
one favour with regard to the cow. She was uncomfortably aware that he’d changed his suit, and
that his shoes had got back their shine, both chores he could have done without on a Monday
morning before he’d had his breakfast. And hadn’t there been just a hint of patronage in his last
comment?
But she could hardly refuse the offer in the circumstances and so she said in the same polite tone as
on the night before when she’d been invited into his home for a drink, ‘That is very kind. An offer I
can’t refuse.’
He nodded. ‘That’s good, then. So shall we start the day? I told the receptionists last week not to
make me any appointments for the first hour this morning so that I can be available to show you
around, and once that’s done I’ll leave you to get acquainted with the new maternity clinic.
‘You will have your own receptionist. We have four at present, and one of those will be transferred
so that your patients can go straight to maternity care without visiting the surgery, unless you decide
they need to.
‘Although yours will be a separate unit, a communicating door has been made between the two
places to save time and energy, but the only person you will be answerable to in the surgery will be
me.’
Lizzie nodded, trying to force the morning’s embarrassing events from her mind. She was
determined that from now on James would only see the calm, collected, professional Lizzie
Carmichael, and nothing more.
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN the door swung open and James stepped back to let her precede him into the building Lizzie
knew immediately that she was going to be happy there, not just in the pristine, well-appointed
rooms with every facility for antenatal and postnatal care, but in Willowmere itself.
She had found the perfect combination in this pretty Cheshire village where outside late summer
was starting to turn the colour of the leaves on the trees and inside was the place where she was
going to revel in the role that she’d been asked to play.
There was a waiting room painted in cream, beige and gold, with a honey wool carpet to match.
Plenty of comfortable chairs that were not too low for heavily pregnant mothers to rise up from
were arranged in rows, and in a corner was a reception desk.
Through a door at the end was a consulting room where she would interview new patients and listen
to the problems of those already registered with the clinic.
Next to it there was a room divided into cubicles where she, and James if necessary, would check on
the progress of the babies and the general health of the mothers-to-be. It was equipped with scales, a
medicine cupboard for on-the-spot medication if needed, and various other items that her practised
eye had noted, such as comfy cotton gowns for examination time and disposable sheets, plus a pile
of glossy magazines to leaf through while waiting. Through another door were hand washbasins and
toilets.
‘So what’s the verdict?’ James asked when she’d observed everything without comment.
‘Wonderful!’ she exclaimed, eyes bright with enthusiasm. ‘It’s so relaxing and clean looking. Who
were the brains behind all this?’
‘The hospital hired a firm to do the make-over, but Lady Derringham had the last word on the decor
and positioning of the facilities. You will be meeting her on Friday at the official opening.
‘You might have noticed that there hasn’t been room to put in any kitchen space for your needs, but
we have that kind of thing in the surgery and you will be welcome to use it whenever you want.’
He was smiling. ‘And now do you think you can drag yourself away while I introduce you to the
people on the other side of the communicating door?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, and went to meet Ben Allardyce, a well-known paediatric surgeon,
who was standing in for his wife, Georgina, the only female GP in the practice, while she was on
maternity leave.
And then there was Gillian, one of the two practice nurses, holding the fort while Laurel was on her
honeymoon, and Sarah Martin, a pretty, curvy girl and the youngest of the receptionists, who would
be transferring to the new maternity centre.
Elaine Ferguson, the practice manager, came and shook hands and the good feeling that Lizzie had
felt when she stepped into the place was still there.
Life without Richard and the child she’d been carrying would have been an empty thing if it hadn’t
been for her job, she thought. Maybe here in Willowmere she might find a different kind of solace
in friendly folk and delightful surroundings as everyone was making her most welcome.
The one who stood out amongst them the most, however, was the man who was now speaking in a
low voice for her ears only. ‘It’s half past nine, my first patient is due any moment. I’m going to
take you to Helen for a belated breakfast.’
Lizzie nodded with head averted, afraid to speak in case the tears that were threatening began to roll
down her cheeks. She just wasn’t used to this, she thought unevenly. It would be easy to get to like
it, and then what?
Loneliness had become a way of life and it was partly her own fault, but it had its advantages. By
not ever getting close to anyone again she’d avoided any more pain. So was this beautiful Cheshire
village going to make her see life differently? Did she want to be sidetracked into a kind of lifestyle
she hadn’t bargained for?
As James’s middle-aged housekeeper plied her with eggs, bacon, hot buttered toast and a pot of tea
Helen said chattily, ‘So, my dear, you’re the midwife who is coming to work in the new maternity
clinic at the practice.’
‘Yes, that’s me,’ she said, smiling across at her.
‘James is highly delighted at the new arrangement,’ Helen informed her. ‘His life revolves around
health care in the village. It comes second only to his love for his children and his sister. I kept
house for his parents when he and Anna were young until I went to live in Canada to be with my
daughter while her children were small, but now they’re grown up I’ve come back. I was homesick
and James needed some help in the house, so here we all are.
‘Jess, their nanny, is also a classroom assistant during term time, which works well as she’s at
school the same hours as the children and is available all the time during the holidays.
‘We leave James to it at the weekends to give him some quality time with Polly and Jolly. All those
who love him would like to see him married again but he shows no inclination to put anyone in
their mother’s place and seems happy enough. But I mustn’t go rambling on, though you’ll find out
soon enough that he lost his wife in a car crash when the children were just a few weeks old.’
That was how she’d lost Richard, Lizzie thought. How weird that they should have both lost their
partners in similar circumstances. Obviously all Willowmere would know what happened to
James’s wife. It was that kind of place.
Not so with her situation. Most of the staff who’d been at St Gabriel’s when her own life had been
torn apart had moved on. Any that remained had their own lives to lead, their own peaks and valleys
to cope with, and that was how she’d wanted it to stay.
As she made her way back to the practice building, having thanked Helen most sincerely for taking
away her hunger pangs, she avoided the surgery and went straight to the clinic. She was still trying
to come to terms with what Helen had told her about James. How he was bringing up his children as
a single father, and providing a high standard of health care for Willowmere at the same time.
That being so, it was to be expected that there wouldn’t be much opportunity for a life of his own
and it could be one of the reasons why he’d never remarried. Though for most people who found
themselves alone the need for someone to fill the gap outweighed every other consideration, but not
in his case, it would seem, and neither was it so for her.
Her face was warming again at the memory of how she’d dragged him away from his breakfast that
morning because of the placid Daisy’s appearance at her kitchen window.
Presumably he’d eaten when he’d got back, but she wouldn’t have been the only one who’d had to
put a spurt on timewise, and then after all that he’d taken the trouble to arrange for Helen to cook
breakfast for her.
Their lives were similar in some ways, she thought as she let herself into the clinic once more, but
vastly different in others. Whatever his problems, James’s life sounded as if it was full and
rewarding, except for the one big gap of a loving wife and mother, and if what his housekeeper had
said was correct, those who cared about him would like to see the blank space filled.
But the length of time it remained empty was often an indication of the depth of the loss. It brought
with it a steadfast loving faithfulness that was a barrier to any other relationships.
Memories of Richard were so clear and tender there was no way she wanted any other man to hold
her close in the night or sit across the table from her at mealtimes. As for the baby she’d lost, there
were moments when she envied a radiant mother as she placed her child in her arms, but it was also
like balm to her soul every time she brought a newborn safely into the world.
Unlike the man in the surgery next door, her life was only half-full, but she’d learned to live with
that, she always told herself when she was feeling low. Though was half a life better than none, she
sometimes wondered.
It seemed that James lived by a different set of rules from hers. In the middle of his busy life he had
found time to show her an impersonal sort of kindness that was heart-warming, and she was going
to repay him by making his dream of a maternity clinic in the village an efficient reality.
She spent the rest of the morning unpacking deliveries of stationery and medical supplies, and at
lunchtime went across to the Hollyhocks Tea Rooms for a quick bite. It was a luxury she knew she
would probably have to forego when things got busy at the unit, but she had the next few days to
settle in at her own pace before the grand opening on Friday, when as well as the Derringhams some
of the bigwigs from St Gabriel’s would be there.
James appeared again just before his afternoon surgery was about to commence and said, ‘How’s it
going? I thought we might have seen you at lunchtime. If you remember, I said that you’re welcome
to join us whenever you feel the need.’
‘Yes, I know,’ she told him, ‘but I thought you might be feeling you’ve seen enough of me for one
day.’
‘I’m not with you,’ he said, and then laughed. ‘Ah, you mean Daisy. Don’t give it another thought.
My mother was born and bred in the countryside but she was nervous if they came too near, and she
would never go within a mile of a pig sty.’
He was making it up as he went along because he didn’t want this newcomer with hair in a long
golden plait and a clear violet gaze to have any reason to regret having moved to the beautiful
village where he’d been born.
She’d positively sparkled when she’d seen the new clinic for the first time, but for the rest of it she
seemed rather subdued and he wondered what went on in her life.
Yet did that matter? If Lizzie was as good as she was said to be, he couldn’t ask for more and with
that in mind he said, ‘Would you be prepared to come back this evening for a couple of hours while
I put you in the picture regarding our present antenatal arrangements and pass on to you the medical
notes of the expectant mothers at presently under our care, who will be transferred from the surgery
to the new clinic?
‘As you know, we are a doctor and nurse short at the moment, with David and Laurel on
honeymoon, which means that I have no spare time during the day,’ he explained, ‘otherwise I
wouldn’t break into your evening. We could have met at my place or yours, I suppose, but as a
matter of protocol I wouldn’t want patients’ records to leave the surgery.’
‘I don’t mind in the least,’ she said immediately. ‘I have plenty of time on my hands. I’ve been
going for a stroll and then having an early night, so I’m not going to be missing anything.’
It was there again, he thought. A solitariness that was so different from his own life. He was
surrounded by people he cared for, and who cared for him.
If time for himself was hard to come by, so what? The children were happy and healthy, and the
pain of losing Julie was lessening as the years went by, yet it would never go away completely
because she wasn’t going to see her children grow up, and that was always what hurt the most.
Lizzie was waiting for him to finish what he’d started and bringing his mind back to the present he
said, ‘Would eight o’clock suit you? The children will be asleep by then. I don’t think they’ll need
much persuasion as the first day of a new school year is always exhausting for everyone concerned,
and Helen is there to keep an eye on them.’
He was checking the time. The waiting room was filling up.
‘Yes, eight o’clock will be fine,’ she told him.
‘Right, I’ll see you, then,’ he said briskly, and off he went, hoping that the pride of St Gabriel’s
maternity services wasn’t thinking that he was overdoing the getting-to-know-you routine.
As Lizzie walked home in the late afternoon she was wishing that she hadn’t been quite so eager to
fall in with James’s suggestion that they meet again that evening. Anything to do with the new
clinic was of paramount importance to her, but she felt as if she needed to get her breath back after
such an eventful day of ups and downs, the downs issuing from her continuing mortification over
the cow episode, and the ups a deep satisfaction with the arrangements of the clinic. Not to mention
what had happened when she’d gone to the Hollyhocks Tea Rooms for her lunch.
Emma, the usually rosy-cheeked wife of the partnership who owned the place, had said hesitantly,
‘Is it you that’s going to be in charge of the new baby clinic that’s opening on Friday?’
‘Yes, it’s me,’ Lizzie replied, wondering what was coming next.
‘I think I’m pregnant,’ Emma had said. ‘I’ve done a test that I bought from the chemist and it was
positive. So can I come to see you?’
‘Of course,’ she’d said, smiling at her across the counter. ‘That’s what I’m going to be there for. Is it
your first baby?’
‘Yes, and we just can’t believe it. We’ve been married a long time and had almost given up hope.’
‘So how about coming in on Friday after the opening and being my first patient?’
‘I’d love to be that! Simon is over the moon. He’s been getting all the recipes mixed up this
morning, so watch out for salt instead of sugar in your apple crumble,’ she’d warned laughingly.
On the whole the ups had far outweighed the downs and she wanted it to stay that way, but there
had been a slight lift of the eyebrow when she’d impulsively told James that she had plenty of time
on her hands, as if he found it hard to believe that anyone could be in that position, and the last
thing she wanted was to arouse his curiosity.
She was getting on with her life the best way she knew how, and providing a useful service to the
community took away some of the loneliness that rightly or wrongly she didn’t confide to anyone.
But she’d committed herself to returning to the clinic that evening and when she gave her word
about anything, she kept it.
The children were full of their first day at school when James came in from the surgery that
evening, or rather Pollyanna was. Jolyon was his usual self and his contribution to the discussion
was that their new teacher had said he had a funny name.
‘She said unusual, not funny,’ Pollyanna corrected him, ‘and that she thought it was very nice.’
‘It means the same,’ he protested, ignoring the last bit, ‘and why isn’t any other kid called the same
as me, Daddy? Why am I not called Sam or Tom?’
Jess had given them their evening meal and was standing in the doorway of the dining room ready
to leave, but she paused and said in a low voice, ‘The teacher was just trying to be nice, but as we
know Jolly has a mind of his own.’
James nodded and, taking Jolyon to one side, said to him, ‘There was a boy in my class at school
who didn’t like his name because he was the only one who had it, but as he grew older he began to
change his mind because everyone was envious that he had such a super name and wished that
theirs wasn’t Sam or Tom.’
‘What was he called?’ Polly chipped in.
‘His name sounded very much like yours, Jolyon, but not quite. He was called Joel.’
Apparently satisfied with the explanation, Jolyon nodded his small blond head and ran off to play,
and as he ate his solitary meal James was smiling at the difference in his children. Polly accepted
everything as it came her way, but not so her brother—he had to know the whys and wherefores
before he was happy.
When he arrived at the new clinic there was no sign of Lizzie and he thought that maybe she wasn’t
the eager beaver that she’d seemed to be earlier, but when he glanced across the road in the dusk to
where the ancient village church stood he saw a flash of colour amongst the gravestones that
surrounded it and seconds later she was coming towards him through the lychgate.
‘There are some really old graves in the churchyard, aren’t there?’ she commented, and wondered
why a shadow passed over his face. But, of course, maybe his wife’s was one of the newer ones, she
thought, although she hadn’t seen it if it was. So less said about that the better. Changing the
subject, she asked politely, ‘Have the children enjoyed their first day back at school?’
‘Er…up to a point in Jolyon’s case,’ he said wryly. ‘Pollyanna was her usual happy self, but her
brother is not so easily pleased. They had a new teacher who apparently commented on his name in
what appears to have been the nicest possible way, but he took it to mean that she didn’t like it. He
and I had a little chat and it was sorted.’
She was smiling. ‘It is a fact that young children want to be the same as their friends and don’t want
to be different, but if they have an unusual name, they often come to like it as they get older. My
name isn’t unusual but I have had to answer to many forms of it over the years, such as Beth, Liz,
Bet and Lizzie, which is the one that has stuck, though in truth the one I like best is Elizabeth, my
given name.’
‘What do your family call you?’
‘I have no family, but when I did have they called me Lizzie.’
‘You have no family at all?’ he questioned in amazed disbelief, so much aware of his own blessings
he felt guilty.
‘No,’ she said steadily, and her tone told him that was the end of the discussion, as did the fact that
she was observing the pile of patients records on the reception desk in the waiting room and settling
herself on one of the chairs that were placed in neat rows across the room.
As he came to sit beside her Lizzie said, ‘I think the seating arrangements in here have too much
uniformity. I want it to be that while the mothers-to-be are waiting their turn they can chat to each
other easily, with the chairs scattered around the room. So if it’s all right with you, I’m going to
rearrange them. It is very important for women to be able to share their fears and excitement, and
their problems, with each other, especially if they are first-time patients taking what can be a scary
step into the unknown.’
‘It’s fine by me,’ he told her. ‘You are the one who is going to be in charge of this place. My
function will be to be there if you need me. I would only interfere if I thought it absolutely
necessary, and with your record of excellence at St Gabriel’s having preceded you, I can’t see that
ever happening.
‘But, Lizzie, don’t let this place take over your life completely,’ he continued, and couldn’t believe
what he was saying when the fates had sent to Willowmere someone as dedicated to health care as
the woman sitting beside him. ‘There are lots of things to do in the village, people to get to know,
beautiful places to explore, as well as looking after the pregnant women in our midst.
‘So why don’t I take you to Willowmere’s only pub, The Pheasant, when we’ve finished here? It
will give you the opportunity to socialise a little.’
It was there again, Lizzie was thinking. He was picking up on the emptiness of her life and she
didn’t want him to be concerned about her. For one thing, she hardly knew the man, and for another,
apart from during working hours when they would have to be in contact, she wanted to be left to get
on with her life, such as it was.
But James was putting himself out to make her feel welcome when he must have plenty of other
things to do in his busy life, and it would seem ungrateful to refuse his suggestion, so she said, ‘Yes,
if you’re sure that you have the time.’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ he said calmly, and, passing her the first lot of patients’ notes, began to explain who
they were and what they would be expecting from her.
When they’d finished going through them Lizzie said, ‘It would seem that there will shortly be
another name to add to these.’
‘I’m not with you,’ he commented.
‘I went to the cafe across the road at lunchtime and Emma asked for an appointment as she’s done
the pregnancy test from the chemist and it showed positive. So we’ve arranged for her to be the first
patient at the clinic after the opening on Friday.’
‘Emma pregnant!’ he exclaimed. ‘Wonderful! She and Simon have wanted to start a family for a
long time. She had a miscarriage when they were first married and there has been nothing since.’
‘So I will have to take great care of her, won’t I?’
‘Yes, you will,’ he agreed, ‘and now am I going to take you for that drink?’
‘Er…won’t your housekeeper wonder where you’ve got to?’ she said with an unmistakable lack of
enthusiasm, and he wanted to laugh. He could think of two or three unattached female members of
the community, and one who was already in a relationship, who would have jumped at the idea, but
not so this one, it seemed.
‘No, not at all,’ he assured her perversely. ‘But to put your mind at rest, I’ll call at the house before
we go and let her know where I will be if she needs me.’ And Lizzie had to go along with that.
The Pheasant was crowded and when they walked in various people greeted James and observed his
companion with curiosity, which was satisfied somewhat as he introduced her as the new
community midwife who was joining him for a drink to celebrate the opening of the new clinic.
By the time they’d found a couple of seats and James had fought his way to the bar and back, Lizzie
was feeling more relaxed, grateful for the way he had introduced her into the socialising throng
without causing her embarrassment.
At the same time she was telling herself if she was going to fit into the life of the village she was
going to have to start living again, and after three years of shutting herself away from everything
but her job, it was not going to be easy.
James was observing her expression and almost as if he’d read her mind he said, ‘That wasn’t so
bad after all, was it? Everyone was listening when I introduced you, so now they all know who you
are.’
‘If you say so,’ she agreed. ‘You know the people here better than I do. Have you always lived in
Willowmere?’
‘Yes. My father was in charge of the practice before me, but after my mother died he began to fail
and my sister, Anna, gave up all her plans for the future and came home from university to help me
during a very difficult time. Thankfully her life is now back on course again.’
He was speaking about his family in the hope that she would mention the absence of hers, but the
ploy wasn’t working. Lizzie wore a wedding ring, he’d noticed, but there was no husband around.
Maybe she was divorced and that was the reason for her reticence, yet a marriage break-up seemed
as nothing to some people, but it had to be a daunting experience in many ways.
He had his children and his sister in his life, and if what she’d said was true, the woman sitting
opposite had no one. Small wonder that she wasn’t the life and soul of the party, but he needed to
bear in mind that she’d only arrived in Willowmere a few days ago.
It was dark when they left The Pheasant with no moon above and James said, ‘I’m going to walk
you home, Lizzie, and will want to see you safely inside before I leave you.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ she protested.
‘Yes, I’m sure you will, but nevertheless that is what I’m going to do.’
‘All right, then…and thanks,’ she said awkwardly without any social grace.
They walked in silence, past the shops all shuttered for the night, then skirted the single-storey
village school built from the familiar limestone, and then the peace garden came in to sight, with the
cottage across the way.
He watched in silence as she unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold and when she turned
to face him, said, ‘Goodnight, Lizzie. Make sure you lock up when I’ve gone.’
She nodded mutely and watched until he disappeared from sight, then did as he’d said, and when
that was done she sat on the bottom step of the stairs and wept because a stranger’s concern was
breaking down her defences.
From what she’d seen of James so far he seemed to be that kind of person, considerate and caring
towards everyone, herself included as the latest addition to the health care of his beloved village,
and she didn’t want it to be like that. She didn’t want to have feelings in the half of her life that was
empty, because with feelings came weakness and she needed to be strong to face each day.
As he walked home, James was telling himself that he had enough responsibilities in his life
without attempting to take on the emotional burden that Lizzie obviously wanted to keep private.
She was going to be the right one for the job and that was all that mattered.
It was Friday afternoon and Lady Derringham was about to cut the tape that had been placed across
the entrance to the new maternity clinic in front of those assembled for the occasion, which
included her husband, the chairman of the primary care trust for the area, dignitaries from St
Gabriel’s, and Lizzie and James.
Lizzie could see Emma from the tea rooms at the front of the crowd that had gathered to watch the
opening ceremony, and she smiled. Emma had been to see James and her booking-in appointment
was arranged for that day.
Shortly she would have her photograph taken as the first patient to attend the clinic. It would be
open for business and Lizzie’s feeling of being on the edge of things would disappear.
James was observing her and noting that today she was well and truly in her midwife mode,
immaculate in the blue uniform of her calling, hair in the golden plait and eyes bright with the
significance of the moment.
As his glance met hers he decided that the other side of her personality that had seemed so solitary
and withdrawn must have been a figment of his imagination. She was calm, confident, unfazed by
the ceremonial aspect of the gathering…and content.
The scissors had snipped, the tape was cut, and her ladyship was saying, ‘I now declare the
Derringham Maternity Clinic well and truly open.’ And as she stepped inside they all trooped in
after her.
As James came to stand beside Lizzie he said, ‘You are happy today, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’she replied. ‘More than I’ve been in a long time.’
He nodded. ‘That’s good.’
CHAPTER THREE
THE crowd had gone, the officials from St Gabriel’s had driven off in their cars. Only Lord and
Lady Derringham remained and Lizzie was discovering that Olivia Derringham’s interest in the
clinic was not going to be a passing thing.
As the person who was going to be in charge she had been expressing her appreciation of the
facilities that had been provided and the uplifting design of the place and Olivia said, ‘If you think it
would be all right, I’d like to volunteer to come in for a couple of mornings each week to give what
assistance I can, even if it is only to make tea, help out the receptionist and perhaps settle the
patients in the cubicles as they wait to be seen.’
‘That’s a very kind offer,’ Lizzie told her, slightly taken aback. ‘I’ll speak with James, but I’m sure
it would be fine. Most of the time I will be on my own, except for the receptionist who is being
transferred from the surgery, and I’m presuming that it will be quite busy, with expectant mothers
from surrounding villages transferring to this clinic as well as those from Willowmere. I’ve been
told that extra staff will be brought in if needed, but the hospital trust is waiting to see what the
workload turns out to be first. So I would much appreciate help from someone like yourself.’
Olivia Derringham nodded and went on to say, ‘I suppose you know that we have donated the clinic
as our way of thanking two members of the village practice who I believe are on honeymoon at the
moment. I would have liked them to be here, as what they did for our son—you know he had a
nasty fall while on a sponsored walk that they were also taking part in—was something that my
husband and I won’t forget. But when they made their wedding plans they had no idea that the
clinic would be finished so soon and urged us to go ahead with the opening rather than there be any
delay, so here we are, and you’ll let me know about helping out then?’
‘Certainly. Thank you for your kind offer of support, Lady Derringham.’
‘Lizzie, the name is Olivia. I was working in a burger bar when I met His Lordship, and now I need
to remind my husband, who is deep in conversation with Dr Bartlett, that we need to be home in
time for nursery tea.’
‘You look somewhat stunned,’ James commented when they’d gone. ‘What gives?’
‘I don’t know if you would agree to this, James, but Her Ladyship has offered to help in the clinic
for a couple of mornings each week.’
He frowned. ‘But she isn’t trained!’
‘Not doing midwifery. She’s volunteered her time to help out in Reception where needed, make tea
and coffee, and make sure the patients are comfortable. In other words, she’s offering to be a
general dogsbody.’
‘Amazing!’
She laughed. ‘She has no airs and graces. They met in a burger bar, of all places. She worked there.
Don’t you think it’s rather romantic? She is a very nice woman. I’m sure we’d get on well.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you would,’ he agreed. ‘Well, let me look into this and I’ll let you know shortly.’
Lizzie smiled and he thought how she looked bright-eyed and happy now, but he knew that no
matter how he tried to tell himself otherwise, somewhere not too far away was the other Lizzie,
subdued and wanting to be left alone. But as he’d told himself several times since they’d met, that
was her affair.
‘Until their son’s accident and David and Laurel’s involvement in it, we only saw the Derringhams
rarely,’ he explained. ‘This is a new dimension her wanting to help in the clinic, and it is very
commendable.’
‘Where do they live?’
‘At Kestrel Court, a large place on the way to the moors. His Lordship owns an estate up there, with
grouse shooting and the like. Dennis Quarmby, one of my patients, is his gamekeeper, and the
husband of Gillian, the practice nurse, is his estate manager.’ He checked his watch. ‘And now I
need to be going. I’ve left Ben Allardyce coping with the late surgery on his own, which is a bit
much, but fortunately he doesn’t seem to mind. What are you going to do now the ceremony is
over? Wait for Emma to appear?’
‘Yes, I’m expecting her at any moment. She was with those watching and then the photographer
approached her. She will know that I’m free now, and then after I’ve tidied up I think I’ll call it a
day.’
He was on the point of departure. ‘Yes, do that. Have a nice weekend, Lizzie.’ Hoping that she
might pleasantly surprise him, he added, ‘What do you usually do?’
‘A big shop on Saturdays and maybe take in a film. On Sundays I do my laundry and tidy up
wherever I’m living at the time.’
He wondered what she meant by ‘living at the time’, but didn’t comment. Had she come from a
series of bedsits? But he’d asked enough questions. Any more could be seen as intrusive and as it
appeared that she wasn’t interested in how he spent his weekends or, if she was, she clearly wasn’t
going to ask, he said goodbye and returned to his patients.
With Emma sitting opposite her, Lizzie was discovering that she was thirty-two years old and,
according to the date of her last period, was now eight weeks pregnant.
‘Your blood pressure is fine,’ she told her when she’d checked it, ‘but I see from your notes that
you’re on medication for it, so we’ll keep a close eye on that.’ She gave her a reassuring smile.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘I’ve got morning sickness and sore breasts so far,’ Emma told her.
‘Both to be expected, I’m afraid. For the morning sickness try smaller meals more frequently, and
ginger biscuits or ginger tea will help lessen the nausea. What about tiredness and exhaustion?’
‘Oh, I’m tired all right, and it’s partly due to the tea rooms being so busy, as well as my being
pregnant. Simon wants me to take a back seat and employ someone to take my place, but I don’t
know that I want to sit around all day.’
‘Perhaps a bit of both is the answer,’ Lizzie suggested. She gave Emma a pregnancy pack full of
information, took bloods and a urine sample, and arranged the twelve- and twenty-week scan dates.
‘I’ll see you in a month’s time, Emma, unless you have any concerns before then.’
About to lock up, she looked around her and thought that it was just a week since she’d arrived in
Willowmere and it had been a strange one. Since meeting James Bartlett at the wedding and then
again with his children outside the Hollyhocks Tea Rooms, he’d seemed to be everywhere she’d
turned, though she’d been the one who’d kick-started the cow episode that she would so much like
to forget.
He had asked how she usually spent her weekends and she’d told him without embellishments, as
she didn’t see it being any different here in Willowmere, except that she might get out more on foot
than she’d done in the town as the countryside was breathtaking.
She went to bed early but sleep was a long time coming because her mind was full of the day’s
events: the exciting opening of the clinic; the unexpected offer of help from Olivia Derringham;
Emma’s pregnancy after a long time of waiting; and in the midst of it all was the amazing James
with his busy, well-organised life, which included the enormous task of bringing up his children on
his own.
No matter how much help he had from outside, the responsibility for their health and happiness was
his, and having met the delightful pair briefly it would seem that he was to be congratulated.
She would have done the same if she’d been given the chance, she thought as she twisted and
turned under the covers, but it hadn’t worked out like that, and ever since she’d been living in a cold
zone with regard to family life.
As the hours ticked by, sleep was coming at last. Soon she would slide into oblivion’s comforting
respite, she thought drowsily, but it was not to be. The bedside phone was trilling and when she
picked it up James’s voice came over the line.
‘Lizzie,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry about this.’
‘It’s all right,’ she told him, unable to disguise her surprise. ‘What is it, James?’
‘We have a pregnant patient who has got a bleed. They’ve been in touch with the emergency
services but there is going to be some delay as there has been a serious accident on the motorway
and there are huge hold-ups, so I’m going up there to check her out. She lives in a remote farm on
the edge of the moors and the thing is, she’s asking for you.’
‘Is she one of those whose notes you’ve passed on to me?’ she asked, now fully awake.
‘No, she’s from your St Gabriel’s clinic and was about to transfer to Willowmere when she heard
you were going to be based here, but this has cropped up. Can I ask you to come with me? I know
that it’s barely seven o’clock, but her mother says she’s frightened and very weepy.’
‘Of course I’ll come. Who is she, James?’
‘Kirsten Williams. Do you recall her?’
‘Yes. She’s seventeen years old and due to give birth in a couple of months. I’ve been seeing her
regularly at the hospital. Kirsten didn’t want to have the baby at home and has had no problems so
far. This is something out of the blue.’
‘It would seem so,’ he agreed. ‘Is it too soon to say I’ll pick you up in ten minutes?’
‘No. I’ll see you then.’
She was at the gate waiting for him, dressed in her uniform, devoid of make-up and with hair tied
back loosely. There had been no time for the long fair plait that he was getting used to seeing.
As she settled herself in the passenger seat he said, ‘Having to forego your breakfast is getting to be
a habit, isn’t it? I really am sorry to be having you back on the job so soon.’
She smiled across at him. ‘Today it is for a much more worthy cause, and what about your
breakfast? I presume Helen will be giving the children theirs?’
‘I’ve already seen to that,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘and, yes, she’s with them now. I asked her if
she could pop round to keep an eye on them as she doesn’t usually come to us at the weekend. Their
day starts quite soon, I’m afraid. Children who go to bed early get up early.’
‘Yes, I would imagine so,’ she said, and there was something in her tone that told him to drop the
subject.
As he drove up the hill road she said, ‘I’m going to have to get to know the area and have bought a
couple of maps but they’re in my car, and even so, if I’d been on my own I would have been
floundering a bit.’
He was pulling up outside a rambling farmhouse and almost before they’d got out of the car
Kirsten’s mother was framed in the doorway and in a nearby field a man waved in their direction
and carried on baling hay.
There was no sign of an ambulance so it seemed that the motorway was still blocked and James said
in a low voice, ‘If she needs to go to hospital we might have to take her, Lizzie, and we’ll have to
use the side roads instead.’ She nodded. The thought had already occurred to her and she smiled
reassuringly at the anxious mother, who had led the way upstairs the moment they’d set foot in the
house.
‘Lizzie!’ the girl on the bed wailed when they entered a bedroom so much that of a teenager it made
what they were there for seem bizarre, but it wasn’t the first time they’d been in that sort of
situation and it wouldn’t be the last.
As James examined Kirsten she sobbed. ‘If I lose the baby it will be my fault because I’ve said all
along that I didn’t want it, that I was going to have it adopted, but I didn’t really mean it. I want my
baby, Lizzie!’
‘It’s OK, Kirsten,’ she said gently, taking hold of her hand. ‘We’re here and if Dr Bartlett decides
you need to go to St Gabriel’s and the ambulance still hasn’t arrived, we’ll take you. Are you
hurting anywhere?’ she asked with the thought of a slow labour in mind, or even a faster one.
Kirsten shook her head. ‘No. It’s just the blood.’
‘When did it start?’
‘It was there when I got up to go to the bathroom early this morning.’
‘How much?’
‘More than spotting, and it was bright red.’
James had finished examining her and, observing Kirsten’s mother, white-faced and anxious, said,
‘Kirsten will be better off in hospital, Mrs Williams, and we can check the baby there.’ He turned to
the girl on the bed. ‘You haven’t had any falls or accidents in the last few days?’
‘No, nothing.’
‘Pregnant women do sometimes experience blood loss during pregnancy,’ he explained, ‘so we’re
going to take you to hospital and place you in their care.’
‘I’ve got a case packed,’ her mother said, ‘and I’m coming with you. I would have taken Kirsten
myself but I don’t drive, and the farmhand is too busy to leave what he’s doing.’
Was there no husband and father in this household? Lizzie wondered. There’d been no mention of
one. Perhaps Mrs. Williams ran the farm single-handed except for the man they’d seen baling the
hay.
Having taken note of her mother’s comments, James was turning to Kirsten and saying, ‘Just slip on
a robe of some sort, Kirsten, and once we’ve got you and your mother settled in the back seat of the
car with a blanket round you, Lizzie and I will take you to St Gabriel’s by a different route from the
one that’s blocked.’
While he’d been speaking Lizzie had cancelled the call to the emergency services and within
minutes they were off, driving through the still sleeping village in the quiet morning.
As the buildings of the big hospital in the nearest town came into sight Lizzie was thinking that this
was unreal. She’d been gone from St Gabriel’s for just one week and she was on her way back to
the wards that she knew like the back of her hand, and driving them there was the man that she’d
thought would be just a figurehead at the surgery, someone that she saw briefly during working
hours.
Instead, it was as if he was taking over her life with his brisk concern for his patients and her own
well-being, and though it was very pleasant in one sense, there was the risk that she could get to like
it, which just wouldn’t do. The last thing she would ever want would be to make a fool of herself
over James Bartlett.
In everything except her innermost feelings she was cool and capable but relationships of a personal
kind were taboo. So why would she be there like a shot if James invited her out again? He was
someone dedicated to looking after others, she thought, even putting up with an outsider who didn’t
know her own mind.
‘Lizzie! What are you doing here? Dare I hope that you’ve come back to us?’ Giles Meredith, the
top gynaecologist at St Gabriel’s, said in greeting when he came to see Kirsten in the emergency
admissions section of the maternity wing.
He shook hands with James and said, ‘It must be some service you are giving your pregnant
patients if both their GP and midwife are bringing them here in person.’
Lizzie smiled, the two of them went back a long way. Giles was the nearest thing to a father figure
she’d ever known as she’d lost her parents when quite young and been brought up by her mother’s
unmarried sister, who had endured the responsibility for just as long as was necessary and then been
eager to take a back seat.
‘Maybe you haven’t heard that the motorway is blocked, Giles,’ she explained. ‘The emergency
services couldn’t get through to us and we needed to bring Kirsten here as quickly as we could.’
James sensed an easiness in Lizzie’s manner towards the well-respected Giles Meredith that he
hadn’t witnessed before, and again he wondered which was the real her, the restrained loner, or the
bright, career-minded midwife. Or maybe there was yet another side to Lizzie that he had yet to see.
‘Ah, I see,’ the gynaecologist commented, and he turned to where Kirsten was lying hunched on the
bed in a small cubicle with her mother seated beside her. ‘It says on your admission notes that
you’ve had some bleeding, Kirsten. Is that right?’
She nodded mutely.
‘In that case, an ultrasound scan is called for.’ She observed him in alarm and he was quick to
reassure her. ‘We just need to see how baby is doing. We will be keeping you in for the time being
until we are confident all is well, but before you have the scan I want to examine you. Again, it
won’t hurt. Then we’ll see what your blood pressure has to tell us.’
‘We are going to leave you with Dr Meredith now, Kirsten,’ Lizzie told her. Turning to her mother,
she said, ‘He is the best, Mrs Williams. Kirsten will be in safe hands.’
‘So you’re not coming back to St Gabriel’s, then, Lizzie?’ Giles teased as they prepared to leave.
‘No,’ she replied, ‘and if you saw Willowmere and the new clinic you would understand why.’
And what about the handsome widower by your side, doesn’t he have anything to do with it? he
thought, but Lizzie was Lizzie and since she’d lost her husband she’d never shown interest in
anyone else.
As they were about to pull out of the hospital car park a few minutes later James said, ‘What is your
guess about the bleeding?’
‘Placenta praevia? The placenta is too low and blocking the uterus?’
‘Hmm, great minds think alike. We’ll have to see what Meredith comes up with, though.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ve just told Kirsten’s mother that he is the best. Giles is a friend as well as a
colleague. He was there for me at a very bad time in my life.’
There was silence as James waited for her to continue satisfying his curiosity, but it seemed as if
that was to be his crumb for today and he didn’t pursue it.
Yet it seemed that there was another little snippet of information coming his way from the woman
who had appeared in his life and was making the road he was used to travelling seem rigid and
unexciting.
Lizzie was pointing to a block of apartments opposite the hospital. ‘You see the one with the ‘For
Sale’ sign? It’s mine. That’s why I’m renting the cottage near the peace garden. I can’t buy a place
in Willowmere until it’s sold.’
‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘So you were even nearer the job here than you are now. Did you never find
it rather suffocating?’
‘Occasionally maybe, but I needed somewhere to live and it was convenient.’
‘Do you want to go across to check that everything is secure? There might be some mail.’
‘I rarely get mail,’ she told him evenly, ‘but, yes, I suppose I could while I’m here, though I’ve only
been gone a week. Do you want to come with me, or wait in the car?’
There was only one answer to that, James thought. His curiosity wasn’t going to let him stay where
he was, though he couldn’t see an empty apartment providing any clues about Lizzie’s life before
Willowmere.
‘I’ll come with you,’ he replied.
As he stepped over the threshold he saw immediately that it was a modern, soulless sort of place,
the kind where one could go weeks without seeing another resident. But maybe after a long hectic
day on the maternity wards it was what Lizzie had felt she needed.
Everything was intact, and as she’d thought there was no mail. As if reading his mind, she said, ‘It’s
a far cry from where I’m living now, isn’t it?’
He could hardly disagree with that. ‘Yes, I suppose it is, and if it is solitude you want you won’t get
much of that in Willowmere where we all look out for each other.’ Unable to resist the opportunity,
he asked, ‘But why, Lizzie? What has life done to you to make you feel like that?’
It was a beautiful day but her smile was wintry as she told him, ‘I’ll tell you some time, and hope
that you of all people will understand, but at the moment I’m starving. Can I treat you to breakfast
somewhere?’
I’m all for stopping to eat,’ he agreed, taking the hint, ‘but if you want to be independent, how about
fifty-fifty?’
‘No. You had Helen feed me the other day if you remember, so now it’s my turn.’
Her manner was more relaxed now and he thought that Lizzie would be even more beautiful with
the long fair plait, expressive eyes and fine-boned slenderness if she was cherished and content
instead of the solitary woman that she seemed to be. But maybe she preferred her completely
independent life.
‘Is there a Mr Williams?’ she asked as they drove around, looking for somewhere to eat. ‘I got the
impression without anyone actually saying so that there wasn’t.’
He nodded. ‘You could be right. I’ve not been called out to the farm often over the years, and when
I have been I’ve only ever seen Loretta Williams and Kirsten there, as if the mother runs the place
herself. There’s no Mr Williams registered with us. But it’s isolated up there. If that is the case one
would expect Loretta to be able to drive, unless the fellow who waved to us has a car and lives in.’
Unaware that just a few moments ago James had been taking stock of her, while they’d been
discussing the absent husband Lizzie had been thinking that his eyes were so amazingly blue the
tiny creases round them were barely visible, and though he had a strong jaw line, his mouth was
kind, and when she saw that he was observing her questioningly she said to change the subject,
‘Were the children still asleep when you phoned me about Kirsten?’
‘No, as I left Helen was giving them their breakfast. When they heard me say I would pick you up
they wanted to come with me, which they couldn’t, of course, so to take their minds off it I
promised to let them stay up late tonight.
‘They’re a handful sometimes, but they’re good kids. Polly is the easy one to cope with, what you
see is what you get with my small daughter, but Jolly is a different matter and doesn’t always live
up to his name. Yet they get on well together in spite of the difference in their personalities.’
He found a parking space and pulled in. ‘They have no mother as Jolly was quick to inform you
when we met outside the Hollyhocks on the day of Laurel and David’s wedding, but as well as
having me there all the time they have Jess and Helen, and my sister, Anna, who will shortly be
coming home from Africa, adores them, and that being so we do the best we can. Right, this isn’t
appeasing our hunger, is it? Shall we go and find the nearest eating place that is serving breakfast?’
As they ate together in a cafe in the town centre Lizzie was experiencing a feeling of unreality. It
was as if the clinic was something in the background and the man seated opposite was the reason
why she’d come to Willowmere, which was crazy.
She needed Monday morning to come quickly, she thought, so that the job she loved would fill her
thoughts instead of the village doctor that she was seeing so much more of than she’d expected. Her
career had been her lifeline over the last three years and she wanted it to stay that way.
James was just part of the package, she told herself, but when she looked up from the cooked
breakfast she’d ordered to find him observing her thoughtfully she could feel her face warming.
‘What?’ she asked uneasily.
He smiled. ‘I was thinking that you might be feeling that I’m crowding you a bit, that you haven’t
come up for air since you came to the village. Lizzie, did you have any regrets while we were at St
Gabriel’s with the chance to compare the two? It registered that Giles Meredith would like to have
you back.’
‘That was just Giles,’ she said, regaining her composure, ‘and you heard what I said to him, didn’t
you? That if he saw the village and the clinic he would know there was no chance.’
She wasn’t to know that Giles would have put the man sitting opposite at the top of her list of
reasons for liking the place if he’d been asked.
Her response to James’s first question was slower and she sensed he guessed what was going
through her mind. ‘No, I don’t feel overwhelmed by you, certainly not with regard to the job,’ she
told him, ‘but I’ve been out of circulation in every other way for quite some time, my own choice
by the way, and am not sure how much I want to have to polish up my social graces to get back into
it.’
It was only half the story, she thought sombrely, but she wasn’t going to open up her heart to a man
she’d only just met, even if he was as kind and charismatic as this one.
His brow was clearing. ‘That’s all right, then. Just as long as I’m not crowding your space. By the
way, when the children heard me on the phone to you this morning Polly said, “Is it the lady with
the blue shoes?” I can see that you will have to keep your eye on them or she’ll be asking if she can
add them to her collection.’
‘I’d already decided to give them to her as they aren’t very comfortable,’ she told him. ‘Yet I can’t
do that without finding something for Jolyon too. As soon as I do, she can have them.’
‘I can’t let you do that!’ he exclaimed. ‘If I remember rightly, they looked expensive and I don’t
want Polly to think she can coax them off you.’
Lizzie felt her cheeks start to warm again. There must be those of her sex who would like to take
the reluctant widower to the altar and saw his children as a means of getting him there.
She shuddered to think that he might suspect that the newcomer to Willowmere came into that
category, and her calling him out to the bull that had been a cow came to mind.
James had already finished eating and when she pushed her plate to one side, having suddenly lost
her appetite, he said, ‘Are we ready to go, then? Helen said there was no need for me to rush back,
but I don’t want to be too long as she looks forward to her weekends.’
‘Yes,’ she said, getting to her feet, and went to pay for the food before he could intervene.
There was silence between them on the journey back to Willowmere, with Lizzie feeling that the
least said the soonest mended, and James wondering why what he’d said about Pollyanna and the
shoes should create coolness between them. The last thing he wanted was for Lizzie to feel that she
had to bring gifts for his children.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHEN they arrived back in Willowmere James stopped the car in front of Bracken House and said,
‘I’ll let Helen know I’m back before I drop you off at your place.’
At the same second that he got out of the car the front door opened and Pollyanna and Jolyon came
running down the path, crying excitedly, ‘Daddy! Are we going to the park?’
Lizzie felt envy rise in her throat like bile. If only her baby had been spared, she thought, holding
back tears. It would have given some sort of purpose to her life.
When James went to greet them he held out his arms, and as they ran into the circle of them she
turned away, surprised at the wave of emotion that such a simple gesture had caused.
When she turned back the three of them were approaching, and she swung her legs out of the car
and stood waiting for them to draw level, ashamed at being envious of the life James had made for
himself and his children. She dredged up a smile.
He was some man, this country doctor, she thought. He had to be for him to be making such an
impression on someone like herself, who had jaundiced views on almost everything except
maternity care.
It couldn’t be easy with a busy practice to run, as well as bringing his children up on his own in a
stable family home, and with no one to turn to for comfort in the dark hours of the night. But it
seemed as if that was the life he had chosen for himself and he seemed content enough.
The children were observing her curiously, Pollyanna smiling and bright-eyed and Jolyon with a
youthful gravity that made her want to sweep him up into her arms and kiss away his frowns.
‘We always go to the country park by the river on Saturday mornings,’ James explained into the
silence that had fallen upon them. ‘There is a safe children’s play area, a pond covered in
waterlilies, where the heron rules the roost, and lots of wildlife all over the place that are attracted
by the river.’
‘We take bread for the ducks as well,’ Pollyanna explained.
‘Mmm! It sounds like great fun,’ Lizzie told her, suitably impressed. ‘I’ll have to go and see the
park for myself one day.’ She looked at James. ‘So why don’t you go now? There is no need to drop
me off at the cottage—it’s only minutes away.’
‘If you come with us you can see the ducks and the swings and everything now,’ Pollyanna said, her
quicksilver mind leaping ahead.
‘Lizzie might have other things to do, Polly,’ James said in mild reproof.
‘If I have, they can wait,’ Lizzie said, smiling down onto the little girl’s upturned face, unable to
resist. ‘That would be lovely, as long as you don’t mind me tagging along, James.’
‘Of course not,’ he said easily. ‘It will be someone to chat to while the children feed the ducks and
play on the swings. I’ll just pop inside to thank Helen for holding the fort and wish her a pleasant
rest of the weekend, and then we’ll be off.’
As soon as she’d agreed to join them Lizzie wished she hadn’t, but she couldn’t resist Pollyanna’s
suggestion and when it seemed as if James had no problem with her joining them the idea had taken
hold of her. But now as they approached the park beneath a mellow sun she wasn’t so sure. She was
going to be butting in on one of the children’s weekend treats and James would have invited her
along out of politeness.
Yet those doubts were soon laid to rest when they arrived at the play area of the park. Pollyanna was
up the steps to the top of the slide within seconds, but Jolyon stood watching, instead of following
his sister.
James had gone to catch her at the other end and the cautious member of the twosome asked, ‘Will
you come down the slide with me, please?’
‘Oh…yes, of course I will,’ Lizzie told him, the urge to hold him close coming over her again. ‘If
you get on first, I’ll sit behind you and hold you tight.’
When James looked up after catching Pollyanna at the bottom and saw them coming down, his eyes
widened, and before he could say anything Jolyon was pulling on Lizzie’s hand the moment they
were back on their feet and crying, ‘Again!’
‘Incredible!’ his father in a low voice as his son raced back up the steps. ‘I can’t count the number
of times I’ve tried to get Jolly to come down the slide with me when he didn’t want to come down
on his own, but he’s such a cautious child.’ His glance took in Lizzie’s slenderness. ‘He was always
afraid I would get stuck between the two sides.’
‘Lady!’ Jolyon was shouting from the platform up above, and James frowned.
‘You’ll have to excuse him, but he doesn’t know your name, does he? What do you suggest the
children call you?’
‘Just Lizzie. I don’t mind.’
‘Are you sure?’ he called as she began to climb the steps.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she replied, smiling down at him.
The two of them had been down the slide at least a dozen times and now Jolyon was sliding down
on his own, and as James came striding across from where he’d been pushing Pollyanna on the
swings he said laughingly, ‘There’s an ice-cream van over there. Can I buy you a cornet as a token
of my appreciation for the way you’ve helped Jolly to conquer his fears?’
Her eyes were sparkling, her mouth tender, and he thought that she was beautiful when she was
happy, and happy Lizzie had been while they’d played with the children. She would make some
child a lovely mother, but was there a man in her life?
There was no sign so far, despite the wedding ring. He supposed he could sound Giles Meredith out
about it, but he wouldn’t do that. It would be an invasion of her privacy and there was nothing to
say that Giles would be willing to satisfy his curiosity if he did.
They’d fed the ducks that had been out of the water and on the river bank in a flash when the
children began to throw the bread. Had watched the heron bend its long neck before dipping its
beak in the lily pond and coming up with a flapping fish, and now it was time to go.
The children were hot and hungry, ready for their lunch, and Lizzie was starting to feel as if she’d
been around long enough as a result of Pollyanna’s impulsive invitation. For all she knew, James
might be putting up with her company on sufferance just to please the children.
As she was about to say goodbye Jolyon’s solemn blue gaze fixed on her and he said, ‘Will you
come and play with us again?’
Before she could reply Pollyanna enquired, ‘Have you got any boys and girls?’And now it was
James who seemed to be watching her intently.
‘No. I haven’t got any children,’ she told her, ‘and, yes, I’d love to play with you both again, Jolyon,
but it will depend on what your daddy says. My name is Lizzie, by the way, and I’m a nurse, the
kind that helps babies to be born.’
She sent James a smile. ‘I don’t want to intrude in your lives. I’m going, James. I’ll see you on
Monday with flags flying and doors open at the new centre. All I need now are some patients.’
‘They’ll be there,’ he promised, ‘enough to keep you fully occupied. You might be glad of some
help from Lady D. Enjoy what’s left of the weekend, Lizzie.’
‘We’d like a baby to love, wouldn’t we, Jolly?’ Pollyanna said, halting Lizzie in her tracks. ‘Could
you get us one? But you need a mummy for a baby, don’t you, and we haven’t got one.’
‘That might be a bit difficult, then. I think that you’d better talk to your daddy about it,’ she told her
gently, and she glanced at James, who was observing his daughter with raised brows. ‘Over to you,
Dr Bartlett.’
As she let herself into the cottage Lizzie was smiling, even though she knew she was doing the very
thing she’d always vowed not to, but how could she resist those children? They were so different, so
enchanting, but she had a feeling that the pleasure of spending time with them would be short-lived.
There must have been lots of willing members of her own sex eager to be a second mother to them
and a new wife to their father, but it was clear that like herself James had no inclinations of that
sort. So she couldn’t see an invitation to go to the park with them being repeated, and in any case it
had been Pollyanna’s idea, not his. He’d gone along with it because his small daughter had put him
on the spot.
She spent the rest of the weekend washing, ironing and unpacking her belongings, and on Sunday
morning rang St Gabriel’s to check on Kirsten. They confirmed that it was placenta praevia that was
causing the bleeding. That was the bad news. The good news was that it had stopped and the
placenta was almost back where it should be, but they had no intention of sending her home until
they were satisfied there was no danger to mother or baby.
Lizzie wasn’t going to disagree with that. For one thing Kirsten had been her patient previously and
might soon be again if she transferred to the new clinic, and she had all the sympathy in the world
for young girls who were left to cope alone with the results of teenage hormones.
Every time she thought about Pollyanna asking her to get them a baby James’s expression came to
mind, and she had to smile. She was bright, didn’t miss a thing, and at almost six years old was just
as aware as Jolyon in his deeper-thinking way that the usual procedure for having a baby required a
mother.
When it had come to Pollyanna explaining that they would have a problem regarding that, it ceased
to be amusing and Lizzie felt more like weeping. But the only person who could grant them that
wish was James and she wondered what he’d said to them after she’d left.
Whatever it might be it was not her business, and as she went up to bed on Sunday night the only
thoughts in her mind were about the days ahead in the maternity centre and the challenge that it was
going to be.
As she made her way there on a crisp Monday morning, carrying the bag that always went with her
when on the job, Lizzie could feel her heart beating faster, and it wasn’t just with anticipation.
Her relationship with James had moved on over the weekend with the unexpected invitation to join
him and his children in the park, and she wasn’t as cool as she would like to be about meeting up
with him again.
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