Country Midwife, Christmas Bride

by Abigail Gordon

  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 Ja
mes’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 décor 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.