‘We’re not going to France today, are we?’ Ben cried.
‘No, of course not,’ Ethan told him. ‘Your mother is moving back into our own house and inside the cases are her clothes and yours.’
‘We are staying here in Bluebell Cove until after the baby is born,’ Francine told them. ‘And then we go to Paris to live. I am told that you are happy to go and am so delighted.’
It had been a magical night, Ethan was thinking as Kirstie and Ben perched on either side of her on the sofa. They’d made plans, made love, made promises they would keep for ever.
At one point he’d held her face tenderly between his two hands and looking deep into her eyes had said, ‘The new life that is waiting for us both in France will be like sailing into calm waters after a storm, Francine. All we need now is the safe arrival of the other new life that you’re carrying.’
Francine had been right when she’d said that the people in Bluebell Cove were accustomed to doctors that they knew as friends as well as representatives of the NHS, and when the news began to filter through that Ethan was resigning and leaving the village, there was much dismay.
Until reassurance came in the form of an announcement from the surgery explaining that Harry Balfour was coming back from Australia to take his place and everyone settled back into their previous contentment as there were not many who hadn’t known and liked the man.
As for Ethan and his family, the villagers had only to look at him and his pregnant French wife to know that they were more than content with the future they were planning for themselves.
They’d been told that they would be most welcome to call if ever they were in Paris and it went without saying that call they would if the opportunity arose to catch up with the doctor who’d had all Barbara Balfour’s dedication without her brittle outer shell.
The changeover at the surgery wasn’t going to take place until mid-January. The baby was due in the new year and Francine wanted the birth to stay as planned in the same hospital that Kirstie and Ben had been delivered in.
Harry was not expected to arrive in Bluebell Cove until near the end of January, which suited Francine and Ethan as it meant they would be around for his parents over Christmas and New Year in case they were needed, though his father’s condition was much improved to the relief of all concerned, including his wife, especially his wife!
‘We might find ourselves a place over there when Grandpa is a little better,’ Jean had said when she’d heard they were moving across the Channel.
‘Not too near you, yet not too far away.’
Her son and daughter-in-law had welcomed the idea as that really would be all the family together in the same place if Ethan’s father’s health caused any further problems.
To their parents’ relief and the children’s approval, the school near Paris had confirmed that they would readmit Kirstie and Ben as soon they were settled in the area and the formalities had been dealt with, removing the last cloud in their sky as far as Ethan and Francine were concerned.
As winter tightened its grip on Bluebell Cove, with frosty mornings and hazy sunshine replacing autumn’s glorious golden days, the four of them settled down to await the promises of the new year, and in the meantime gave their energies to the coming Christmas.
Francine and Ethan had gone shopping one Saturday for things for the baby and Christmas presents for Ben and Kirstie.
Their first call was to the nursery department in one of the large stores where an abundance of the kind of things they needed was on display, cribs. baby baths and clothes to mention a few items, and as they strolled from counter to counter, holding hands, she said softly, ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this, Ethan, shopping for our extending family. I’m so happy I could burst.’
‘Me too,’ he replied. ‘Every time I move in the night and feel you beside me it’s magic, Francine, so wonderful that it’s scary.’
When they’d bought for the child yet to come and arranged for delivery of their purchases, they went to buy for the children already in their lives. Ben had asked for a guitar as his main Christmas present and Kirstie was coveting a pink mobile phone.
When they’d finished shopping and were going back to the car Ethan said, ‘I want to give you something really special as my Christmas gift. Is there anything you would like that I don’t know about?’
‘Not a thing,’ she told him. ‘You’ve already given me the most precious gift of all by giving up the practice to make my dream come true. I know how much that has cost you, Ethan, without you ever having to put it into words.’
He smiled down at her. ‘There is no price on what I’ve done. The opportunity came out of the blue and I grasped it before it disappeared.’ With his gaze on where the baby lay warm and secure inside her, he added, ‘I’m not the only one with precious gifts to offer, am I?’
There was activity at the church as they drove by on their way home and they went in to find the vicar’s wife and helpers getting it ready for the coming season with holly and other fresh greenery gracing the window sills, a nativity scene at the front and a Christmas tree tastefully decorated at the end of one of the aisles.
As they exchanged cheerful greetings the vicar’s wife said, ‘We have just had Jenna and Lucas here, and if their baby arrives in time for the Sunday before Christmas, she’s going to let us place it in the crib when we do the nativity play. Won’t that be lovely?’
Ethan was laughing as they left the church and when she asked what the joke was he said, ‘I can’t see Lucas being happy about his newborn lying in that old crib. It’s been around for years gathering dust. If the baby arrives in time, just watch—it will be in its mother’s arms instead of the crib.’
The first of the children that Jenna had promised Lucas on their wedding night was due a couple of weeks before Christmas, so there was a chance that it might be the star performer in the nativity play, with its mother taking second place dressed in the familiar blue robes that came out of storage each year for the event.
After much discussion Francine had persuaded Ethan to agree to them keeping the house in Bluebell Cove for coast and countryside breaks amongst old friends and acquaintances. He had been of a mind to sell it and make a clean break, but she had reasoned that although they were moving to France, a part of all four of them, him in particular, would always belong in Devon.
He’d originally wondered if Harry would be interested in either buying or renting their house, but before he’d had the chance to mention it to him the other man had asked if either of the apartments above the surgery was vacant and when Ethan had told him that one of them was, having not yet approached Leo about it, Harry had said that would suit him fine.
When he’d told Francine about the arrangement she’d said, ‘But weren’t you going to offer it to Leo after agreeing that Phoebe could rent the other one?’
‘Yes, I was,’ he’d replied, ‘but he seems happy enough where he is for now. Harry does need to have somewhere he can move into straight away when he arrives and both apartments are furnished. I don’t want to leave any loose ends when we’ve gone.’
If Christmas hadn’t been in the offing, the days would have dragged to the birth of their child, which would be followed by their exodus across the Channel. But there was so much to do getting ready for the festivities and planning the next two big events in their lives that December seemed to be moving along fast, and as each day came Francine thought thankfully how different this Christmas was going to be from the last when she’d arrived without invitation, desperate to see her children and facing a new year that had held little promise of peace between Ethan and herself.
But the love they had for each other had triumphed in the end and brought reason and understanding into their lives. One day soon she was going to thank Barbara for her farsightedness and understanding. With the shrewdness that was so much a part of her she’d shown the two men that she cared for deeply the way ahead for each of them.
Jenna had given bi
rth to a beautiful little girl they’d named Lily and been home from hospital a couple of days later, which had meant that the vicar’s wife was going to get her wish on the Sunday before Christmas Day. A real live baby for the nativity scene held in her mother’s arms instead of lying in the crib, as Ethan had prophesied.
It would soon be their time for rejoicing, Francine had thought that day as they’d walked home from the church, and tuning into her thoughts Ethan had said, ‘Our cup runneth over, doesn’t it?’
‘It does indeed,’ she’d replied.
There’d been the dancing through the village on Christmas Eve again, though now they were onlookers instead of part of the throng. It was followed by the Enderbys’ ball at Wheatlands Farm and it was there that Francine found the opportunity to speak to Barbara when the other woman was alone for a moment.
‘Thank you for making it possible for Ethan to resign from the practice with an easy mind Dr, Balfour,’ she said. ‘I’m so happy I can’t believe it, though I do wonder how much he’s hurting inside.’
Barbara’s wintry smile came into view. ‘He was hurting more when he was without you,’ she said, and thought if anyone was hurting it was herself, but only she knew that.
As Christmas Day had passed with contentment on all sides Francine and Ethan were not to know that the road to happiness had an unexpected diversion ahead that was going to throw them way off track.
It was on the morning of Boxing Day when Francine started with early labour pains while the children were still asleep and she and Ethan were having breakfast. She gave a sudden gasp of pain and he was by her side in an instant.
‘What is it?’ he asked urgently.
‘It is gone now, but it was like a contraction,’ she told him. ‘Maybe it will come again but I hope not. It is too early, Ethan, three weeks too early. The other two were late so it can’t be. Aagh! It is there again.’
‘Those are pretty fast contractions if they’re labour pains.’ he said. ‘I’m taking you to the maternity unit at Hunter’s Hill, Francine. We’ll see what they have to say.
‘Let’s go. I’ll pop upstairs to tell Kirstie and Ben what’s happening and to stay put until they hear from us, and will bring your case down. Having it ready packed was a good idea.’
‘I’m not sure if it was or not,’ she commented glumly as they drove along deserted roads towards the town. ‘Maybe I’ve wished this on myself by being too organised, or perhaps we shouldn’t have been taking it for granted that nothing could touch us now.’ As another contraction gripped her she subsided into silence.
Ethan was observing her anxiously. The sooner they got to the hospital the better. At that moment Francine cried, ‘It is coming, Ethan! We are not going to get there in time.’ He increased speed.
At that moment a cruising police car stopped in front of them and pulled him over. ‘You were speeding, sir,’ one of the uniformed officers told him. What’s the rush?’
‘This is the rush!’ he cried, pointing to Francine. ‘My wife is going to give birth any second and I’m going to need your assistance.’
‘What? To deliver it?’ the policeman said, taking a step back at the thought.
Ethan was helping Francine into the back seat and laying her gently across the cushions to examine her and he called over his shoulder, ‘No. I’m going to take charge of the delivery. I’m a doctor.’
‘OK,’ was the reply. ‘Just tell us what you want us to do and we’ll do it.’
He saw immediately that she was right. The baby’s head was already visible. ‘Please tell me I can push!’ she begged. ‘I don’t think I can hang on any longer.’
He was grabbing a towel that they always kept on the ledge above the back seat in case any of them went into the sea unprepared, and putting it in position he said gently. ‘Push as hard as you like, Francine.’
She did and seconds later he told her, ‘We have a son, Francine. Henri has arrived.’
‘Is he all right?’ she asked anxiously. ‘The speed of his arrival hasn’t hurt him?’
‘He is perfect,’ he assured her. ‘And now we need to get you to hospital. The placenta needs to come away, but hopefully it will wait until we get there.’
‘Let me see him first,’ she said, and he held up a crying infant for her to feast her eyes on, and then wrapped him in the towel.
They were in the delivery room at the hospital after following the police car with its siren blaring in the peaceful Boxing Day morning. Staff had been waiting for them after receiving a message from the two officers to say that a mother and newborn baby were on their way.
Henri had been cleaned up by one of the nurses and the obstetrician in charge had declared him to be the equivalent of full term with his arrival having been so near the due date, but they would keep a close watch on him for any signs of distress.
The placenta had come away easily enough and all would have been well except for one thing. Francine was bleeding heavily. There was cause for alarm.
‘It would seem that we have a postpartum haemorrhage here,’ the obstetrician said. ‘It could be due to a tear where the placenta was attached to the uterus, or because the uterus isn’t contracting as it should be after the delivery. Or it could be because part of the placenta is still attached to the womb. Whatever the cause, your wife is going to need a transfusion and is going down to Theatre while we sort out what the problem is.’
Ethan nodded mutely. They were in the middle of a ghastly nightmare he thought as he looked down at Francine’s pale face. There was fear in the beautiful green eyes looking up into his, but her voice was calm as she said, ‘Take care of our children, Ethan, if anything happens to me.’
He took her hand in his and, kissing her soft palm, said, ‘That goes without saying, my darling, but they’re going to sort this out. Nothing is going to happen to you. It can’t be allowed to. I won’t let it.’
Before she could reply her bed was being wheeled towards the corridor and speechless with anxiety he walked beside it for as far as he could then stood back helplessly as they took her into the theatre.
When he arrived back on the maternity unit, Kirstie and Ben were gazing in wonder at the baby. Lucas had brought them, having seen their parents’ hurried departure and gone to investigate, and they were wanting to know whether it was a boy or a girl as there were no visible signs to indicate its sex. He managed a smile and told them, ‘You have a little brother.’
‘Wow!’ Ben cried, while Kirstie beamed her delight. She wasn’t bothered either way as long as it was a baby to cuddle. But Kirstie being Kirstie, she wanted to know, ‘So, where is Mum?’
‘She’s with the doctor and won’t be long,’ he told her, not meeting his daughter’s clear gaze.
‘What’s wrong?’ Lucas asked in a low voice when she’d turned away. ‘You look like death.’
‘Francine is haemorrhaging,’ he told him raggedly. ‘They’ve taken her down to Theatre to try and find the cause.’
His friend observed him sombrely. ‘That’s not good. When the children have had their fill of gazing at the baby I’ll take them home to our place for as long as need be.’
‘Thanks,’ he choked, and wondered how long ‘need be’ might turn out to be.
Lucas and the children had gone, reluctantly on Ben and Kirstie’s part, but there was no way Ethan wanted them to be there when Francine came out of Theatre. He didn’t know how she would be, what state she would be in, and Kirstie in particular would be heart-broken to see her seriously ill.
When they’d departed he settled himself to wait, seated beside the baby’s cot in a small side ward. As he looked down at his newborn son he thought achingly that the little red faced scrap lying there had no idea what his unexpected arrival had caused.
The minutes ticked by, each one like an hour, and it was as if everything else in his life was far away. Bluebell Cove, the practice, Paris and the elegant house that they’d been hoping to move into soon were all minor matters compared to what was
happening to Francine.
It was incredible that having been without a single problem all the time she’d been pregnant, this should happen, he thought grimly. Yet postpartum haemorrhage was known to occur after a birth. It was always serious. Before improved methods of treatment had been introduced it had often resulted in the death of the mother.
The waiting came to an end in the early afternoon when the consultant obstetrician appeared and informed him that Francine was out of Theatre and in the high-dependency unit.
‘And the bleeding?’ Ethan asked.
‘Hopefully sorted,’ he said. ‘There was a tear where the placenta had been attached to the uterus, and when that had been dealt with under general anaesthetic, the haemorrhaging stopped. Your wife has lost a lot of blood but the transfusions we’ve given her will replace that. You can go to see her whenever you like.’
He looked down at the baby and said, ‘So this is the little guy who is the cause of all the trouble? Still, I bet if I asked his mother how she felt about it she would say it was all worth it as long as he’s arrived safely.’
‘You are right about that,’ Ethan told him as his nerves began to feel not quite so knotted, and they went down to the high-dependency unit together, leaving a nurse in charge of little Henri.
Francine was still under the anaesthetic when they got there and as he gazed down at the woman he loved, who had been more concerned about her children than herself when in dire distress, tears choked him.
Thankfully the skills of people like themselves who cared about the well-being of others had brought her back from the brink of something too unbearable to contemplate. Soon she would be coming out of the an-aesthetic with the bleeding controlled and her life saved because she’d been in the right place at the right time.
In keeping with that sentiment, the obstetrician was saying, ‘We will be keeping both mother and baby in until I’m satisfied that your wife is recovering without any further complications. There shouldn’t be any as the tear from where the placenta separated from the uterus has been repaired, along with a smaller tear of the cervix, and if the baby is here with her, it will be convenient for her to breastfeed him if she feels well enough once she moves to the maternity ward.’
Christmas in Bluebell Cove Page 14