Country Midwife, Christmas Bride

by Abigail Gordon

  ‘That would be fantastic!’ Lizzie told her. ‘Maybe we could start a fund for it. I’m sure that James would be all for it and so would the more forward thinking of our expectant mothers.’

  Olivia smiled at her enthusiasm. ‘You could try twisting the arm of the primary care trust, and I’ll do the same to my husband.’

  When Lizzie met James in the kitchen in the lunch-hour he said, ‘You look very perky today. What gives?’

  Ever since Monday’s visit to the house in the woods and the revealing conversation he’d had with her on the way back, they had met only briefly, usually in connection with those who came for antenatal care and were also involved with the surgery.

  On one of those occasions he’d told her that Eugenie had been kept in St Gabriel’s for bed rest and to get her blood pressure down, which had been sky high, as he’d discovered when he’d examined her at the cottage.

  ‘According to the father-to-be she hasn’t miscarried yet, but as we know only too well it doesn’t say that she isn’t going to,’ he’d said with businesslike brevity. ‘He seems a really decent guy and if she does carry to full term I can see him in the role of house-husband, caring for the child while she paints.’

  It had been a sombre moment, so it was good to see Lizzie now lit up like a light bulb. She’d made clear her attitude on relationships and he’d been asking himself if it had been a warning, a keep-your-distance sort of statement. The only thing that was clear regarding what she’d said was that she had no yearnings towards him.

  She liked him for his good deeds, he thought wryly, which made him sound a bore, but that was as far as it went, and for someone who was supposed to be the catch of the village it was black comedy at its best.

  ‘Lady Derringham has suggested that we try for a birthing pool some time in the future,’ she said. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think that we are a long way off that sort of thing. We are talking about thousands of pounds. I read of a similar venture at a birth centre somewhere and it cost in the region of thirty-five thousand pounds. We have to learn to walk before we can run, Lizzie. A thousand coffee mornings and bring-and-buy sales wouldn’t fetch in that sort of money, though I do understand your enthusiasm. If I don’t understand anything else about you, I understand that.’ He was being perverse and knew it. The thought of a birthing pool was as dear to his heart as it was to hers and if the opportunity arose, he would welcome it with open arms.

  ‘It was more the primary care trust we were thinking of and Lord Derringham’s fondness for the practice,’ she said, deflated by his downbeat reaction. ‘But I suppose you’re right. Olivia and I were letting ourselves get carried away with the idea.’ And picking up the mug of tea that she’d just made, she went back to her own domain.

  On Friday afternoon Sarah said, ‘Did you know that it’s the harvest festival on Sunday morning, Lizzie?’

  ‘I’ve seen a notice about it,’ she replied, ‘but hadn’t really absorbed it as I’ve been so busy here. What does it involve?’

  ‘It starts with a parade of the farmers driving hay carts and trucks around the village, displaying their produce, followed by farm machinery such as tractors and combine harvesters, and ends up outside the church.

  ‘At the start of the service the farming families walk down the aisle with offerings from their harvests and place them in front of the altar, and when it is over the foodstuffs are taken to a centre that feeds the homeless.’

  ‘I see,’ Lizzie said thoughtfully as two things occurred to her. The first was that it was a lovely idea, and the second that James and the children might be there. Contrary to the comments she’d made to him on the way back from Eugenie’s cottage, it would bring light into her weekend if they were.

  Saturday had dragged by as Saturdays often did, and on Sunday morning Lizzie joined the village folk waiting for the farming community to appear with their various offerings in an assortment of vehicles.

  As the procession came trundling along, led by the village’s brass band, a small hand was placed in hers and Jolyon said, ‘When are you coming to play with us again, Lizzie?’

  She turned. James and Pollyanna were behind her, smiling at the surprise on her face, and contentment settled on her like a blessing when James said, ‘They haven’t forgotten the time you came to the park with us, Lizzie. You’re top of the pops.’

  ‘I don’t know why,’ she said laughingly. ‘Your children are irresistible.’

  And so are you, he thought in slow wonder, in spite of you being so much on the defensive sometimes. But that wasn’t so today. Lizzie was smiling widely as she bent to hear what the children were saying above the noise of the band, and as the long fair plait of her hair swung loosely with the movement he felt the urge to press his lips against the soft skin on the back of her neck.

  She straightened up at that moment and caught him off guard as she turned to face him, and a tide of colour rose in her cheeks as their glances met.

  ‘Are you going in to the service when the procession is over?’ she asked quickly to cover confusion. ‘The children are deciding who is going to sit where.’

  ‘Yes. Of course,’ he replied. ‘We never miss the harvest. This is a farming community mostly and I think that the children need to know where a lot of the food they eat comes from, don’t you?’

  ‘Er…yes,’ she replied absently, still thrown by what she’d seen in his eyes.

  ‘So let’s go in and get settled, then,’ he suggested, ‘and am I right in thinking that I’m going to be on the end with you in the middle of your fan club?’

  ‘It would seem so,’ she said laughingly, and taking the children each by the hand she led the way into the old Norman church that stood only yards from the surgery complex.

  As the four of them made their way to the front so that Pollyanna and Jolyon could see what was going on, there were a few surprised glances coming their way as the church was already half-full, and James thought wryly there was no cause for excitement amongst the locals. It wasn’t what it looked like.

  He was breaking the routine of almost six years by allowing himself to be attracted to the one woman who wasn’t interested in him. The only things that made Lizzie sparkle were the job and his children, and he was damned if he was going to use Polly and Jolly as a means of getting through to her.

  When the service was over and the church was filled with sacks of grain, vegetables from the fields and fruit from the orchards, he discovered keeping to that vow wasn’t going to be easy.

  He always took the children to the Hollyhocks for Sunday lunch. He had a regular table booked and today would be no different except for one thing. They wanted Lizzie to join them, wanted her with them. And so did he, but not in the way it was happening, with the impetus coming from Polly and Jolly. He wanted it to have come from her, but knew that wasn’t likely.

  She was observing him questioningly and said, ‘I don’t want to intrude, James.’

  ‘You won’t,’ he said smoothly. ‘I have a table booked, so we won’t have to queue.’

  He was watching her expression and thought she was going to refuse. Even though she was enchanted by the children Lizzie wasn’t going to join them. But he was wrong.

  After a moment’s silence she said, ‘Then that would be lovely, James, if you’re sure.’

  He was sure. Sure she was only coming for the children’s sake, and would accept that for the moment if it was what made them happy. It was strange how they’d taken to her just like that, they all had, and as far as Polly and Jolly were concerned it wasn’t because they’d been starved of female company after losing their mother.

  There had been Anna, his sister, who’d put her life on hold for them, and now they had Jess, who was great, though she did have a life of her own too and was now engaged to a young farmer from the next village.

  And then there was his housekeeper, Helen, who was amazing and very fond of them, but he thought that the children must see something in Lizzie that
they hadn’t already got.

  As they walked the short distance to the tea rooms he gave a quick sideways glance to where she was walking along with one child on either side. The children were chatting to her happily and he thought that maybe Lizzie found something in them that she needed, too.

  His needs didn’t seem to come into it, he thought wryly, but he’d put up with that sort of a situation long enough to be able to cope with it. The vacant space in the bed was likely to be there for some time to come.

  He wasn’t the only one who’d been badly hurt in the past. From what he could gather, Lizzie too had known sorrow. She’d lost a child, which was enough agony for any woman in a lifetime, and the father of it was no longer with her to offer comfort, for what reason she hadn’t been prepared to say. But she’d made it clear that she wasn’t going to risk getting hurt again.

  Yet surely she could talk about it to him, of all people. He’d had to travel along a painful road himself, though for him there’d been Anna and loving friends to support him, but it didn’t sound as if it had been like that for Lizzie.

  There was a fresh face behind the counter when they went into the Hollyhocks Tea Rooms and Simon introduced her as his sister. When they’d asked about Emma, and James had introduced Lizzie as the new midwife, he said, ‘She’s resting and is only going to do a couple of hours each day while she’s pregnant.’

  ‘You’ll look after her, won’t you?’ he asked Lizzie anxiously. ‘We’ve waited a long time for this. When she was pregnant before, she was unwell all the time and in the end she had a miscarriage.’

  ‘We will be taking great care regarding that and every other problem that might arise,’ Lizzie assured him. ‘Do feel free to come to the clinic with Emma when she has an appointment. That way you can keep a check on the progress of the pregnancy first hand.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll do that,’ he promised, his expression lightening, and as they turned away to go to their table she said, ‘It’s such a shame that everyone can’t look forward to the birth with an easy mind.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘but it would be just too good to be true if such an amazing and complicated thing was always worry free.’ He smiled. ‘That’s what you and I are here for, isn’t it, to iron out the creases if we can?’

  With his glance on the children, who were already wriggling onto chairs placed around a table for four, he said, ‘And in the meantime, shall we satisfy our hunger?’

  Pollyanna and Jolyon were each holding a menu and he said laughingly, ‘That isn’t necessary. They have the same thing every time we come here.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ she asked, sharing his amusement.

  ‘Chicken and chips, with ice cream for afters.’

  ‘Sounds good. I’ll have the same.’

  ‘Are you sure? There’s lots to choose from.’

  ‘Yes. That will be fine. What about you?’

  ‘Salad, I’m trying to keep trim.’

  Lizzie looked away. She could have told him that to her he was trim, with a few other attractions added on for good measure. He was tall, athletic and attractive in a casual sort of way, with the kind of good looks many women would look twice at.

  But obviously he hadn’t responded or someone would have stepped into his dead wife’s shoes before now. Her expression softened at the thought of Pollyanna’s love of wearing her mother’s shoes. One day she would give her the blue ones that she’d coveted if James had no objections.

  She could have stayed with them for ever, but when they’d finished the meal Lizzie rose reluctantly to her feet and with a smile that embraced them all but was mainly directed at James, said, ‘I think it is time I gave you some space. It was lovely to share the harvest with you and be invited to lunch, but there are only so many hours in a weekend, James, and I don’t want to intrude in too many of them, so I’ll say goodbye until Monday morning.’

  She saw the children’s downcast expressions and putting to one side her intention of keeping it light between them, said, ‘Maybe you could come to have lunch with me at my cottage one day. It would be nice to cook for more than one.’

  ‘Ye-es!’ Pollyanna and Jolyon chorused, but James merely nodded, which made Lizzie wish she hadn’t been so premature with the invitation. That being so, she didn’t linger. She made her way quickly out on to the street and headed for home.

  When she’d taken off her jacket and kicked off her shoes she sank down onto the sofa and stared into space, reliving every pleasurable moment that she’d spent with James and his children and trying to ignore the voice of common sense that was whispering in her ear, You’re not ready for this.

  It was true, she wasn’t, but if she looked at it from that angle she never would be. Being with them was chipping away at the ice around her heart and if it began to melt, what then?

  Apart from the moment when she’d caught something in his expression as she’d raised her head from listening to what the children had been saying when the band had been playing, James wasn’t giving out any signals and neither was she. But it didn’t stop him and the children being the first thing she thought of on awakening and the last thing in her mind at night.

  For the rest of Sunday she did the few chores needing to be done, and once that was accomplished she wandered restlessly around the cottage’s small rooms until the streetlamps began to come on and a yellow harvest moon appeared in the sky.

  Slipping on a jacket and picking up her purse, she went out into the night and looked around her, undecided which way to go. She could see the lights of The Pheasant beaming out across the main street and there were a few people strolling in that direction, off to share the company of friends or just simply to relax for a while, and the extent of her loneliness was starkly clear at that moment.

  She would stick out as a woman on her own if she went in there, and the last thing she wanted was to be conspicuous. What would James be doing at this moment? she wondered as just a short distance away the lights of Bracken House were lighting up the surgery forecourt. Tucking the children up for the night maybe, or going over the surgery accounts with the practice manager as he sometimes did out of hours.

  He wasn’t doing either of those things. Pollyanna and Jolyon had been asleep for a while, and his intention of going next door to the surgery to bring back some paperwork that he wanted to look over regarding the practice hadn’t materialised because he couldn’t concentrate on anything except the effect that Lizzie was having on him.

  The way she smiled, the way she would bring herself down to the children’s level when they wanted to play, was bewitching, but he couldn’t help wishing that sometimes she would elevate herself to the plane that he moved on.

  Yet did he want to disrupt the life he’d made for himself and set sail on uncharted seas? He’d put thoughts of Lizzie to the back of his mind when they’d separated after lunch, but Pollyanna hadn’t let that last long.

  As he’d been brushing her hair before she went to bed she’d asked unexpectedly if she could have it like Lizzie’s, and he hadn’t been able think of a reason why not, unless it was that for the first time ever he was going to have to make a plait of his daughter’s long golden tresses.

  He opened the front door with sudden determination. He would do some practice work, he decided as he stepped out into another mellow night. No use yearning for what could threaten his ordered life.

  As he looked down the street he saw her, standing irresolute not far from The Pheasant, and his intentions to do something useful went by the board.

  In a matter of a few strides he was beside her and saying, ‘Hello again. Is everything all right?’

  It is now, Lizzie thought, but didn’t voice it. The pleasure of being near him again was washing over her in a warm tide. ‘Yes. I came out for a change of scene and was debating whether I wanted to walk into The Pheasant on my own.’

  His smile was wry. ‘Can’t do anything about that, I’m afraid. I have two sleeping children upstairs, but I can offer you a drink
at home if you want to come inside.’

  Lizzie hesitated. She couldn’t think of anything she would like more but…

  ‘You would prefer it if the children were there, wouldn’t you?’ he said levelly. ‘I’m just a means to you being with them, aren’t I? I’m only asking you in for a drink, Lizzie.’

  ‘I know you are,’ she replied uncomfortably, ‘and I don’t need Pollyanna and Jolyon to chaperone us. Yes, I’d like to have a drink with you, James.’

  ‘So come this way, then,’ he said calmly, and as they walked the few steps to Bracken House he went on, ‘You weren’t the only one at a loose end. I couldn’t settle and was about to go next door for some paperwork to keep me occupied. You arriving on the scene has given me the excuse I was looking for.’

  He led her into the sitting room and when he’d opened a bottle of wine and was pouring it, said, ‘You’ll never guess what Pollyanna has asked me to do. She wants her hair in a plait like yours.’

  ‘Really!’ she exclaimed laughingly. ‘I can imagine how much you’ll be looking forward to that. I’ll bet you wished me far away.’

  ‘Not at all,’ he protested. ‘With Polly and Jolly having no mother, I’m always ready for them to have the benefit of pleasant and trustworthy female company to help fill the gap.’

  ‘But you’ve never done anything about filling it yourself…on a permanent basis?’

  ‘I might have done if the right woman had come along, but she hasn’t so far and the gap remains. Better no one than make a mistake, don’t you think?’ With a quizzical smile he added, ‘You may be surprised to know that I rarely discuss my private life with anyone. In fact, this is a first.’

  Lizzie placed her wineglass carefully on the small table beside her and rose to her feet. She had a feeling like she was drowning. They were discussing the fact that James had no wife. It was a good moment to explain that she had no husband, but the words were sticking in her throat in case he thought that she was using the opportunity to inform him that she was available on the marriage market.