Christmas Magic in Heatherdale

by Abigail Gordon

  ‘The results have been back a couple of weeks from the scan I requested for a child we saw at one of the clinics with suspected epilepsy. We gave the parents a date for an early appointment as soon as we knew what it was, but they didn’t keep it. So I’ve just been asking my secretary to phone them.’ He glanced at a clock on the wall above their heads. ‘So now maybe we can get the day under way.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she said flatly, avoiding making a fool of herself again by explaining what had been behind Julian kissing her outside his office window. There was always the chance that Ryan had been relieved to see her turning her attention to someone else after him bringing her down to earth so abruptly when he’d just taken her to the stars, so maybe explanations were not needed.

  ‘I was called here late last night to observe a five-year-old boy who had been brought in as an emergency,’ Ryan said. ‘I want him to be our first priority this morning.’

  He led the way towards a small side ward that was used for seriously ill children or any who might have something contagious.

  ‘So what time was it when you got the call?’ she asked.

  ‘Half past nine.’

  ‘And what did you do about Rhianna and Martha?’

  ‘Er, brought them with me.’

  ‘You got them out of bed to come here when I was next door?’ she said in an angry whisper. ‘I would have thought that their welfare was more important than you not wanting to have anything to do with me again.’

  He ignored the last part of her protest and assured her, ‘The children weren’t asleep and they were well wrapped up with cosy dressing-gowns over their nightdresses and warm boots on their feet.

  ‘Both of them were concerned about the sick little boy and also as I was already in the dog house where you were concerned I didn’t want to damage my image any further. If you remember, you had said that you wouldn’t be available for the rest of the day when you were leaving us after the girls’ modelling session.

  ‘We are not here to question each other’s motives in any shape or form, Melissa. We have a very sick child here. His name is Alexander.’

  They approached the small figure on the bed.

  ‘His parents have been here all night and I’ve suggested that they go for some breakfast while we check if the procedure I started then is working.’

  At that moment the door behind them opened and Alexander’s parents appeared, followed by a porter with a trolley, and while nursing staff were lifting the small boy carefully onto the trolley Ryan said to them, ‘Has Alexander had anything in the nature of a cold sore recently?’

  ‘He had one a couple of weeks ago,’ his mother told him tearfully. ‘An aunt of mine who is subject to cold sores had been hugging and kissing him when she called round, and it was shortly afterwards that a big blister appeared on his lip. The chemist told us what to use and it finally healed over.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ his father said impatiently, with his arm around his wife. ‘There is no time to lose, is there, Dr Ferguson?’ When Ryan nodded sombrely they went, one on either side of the trolley that carried their small son.

  In those moments Melissa’s admiration for the doctor who had even put his own children second to a very sick child belonging to someone else reached new heights. She’d had no right to criticise him for bringing Rhianna and Martha out late at night for once if Mollie hadn’t been able to babysit for him, which had to have been the case.

  Had she been so desperate for family and friends that she’d coveted his children? Was she now hurting because he didn’t want her intruding into the life he had planned for himself and his daughters? If that was the case, it would not happen again.

  * * *

  By late afternoon their small patient was showing signs of responding to the anti-viral treatment after a second intravenous infusion. It wasn’t mind-blowing, just a slight improvement, but it showed there was a chance that he might be able to fight off the serious infection, and it brought tremulous smiles to the faces of his parents that hadn’t been there before.

  * * *

  The phone call to the family of the small girl with epilepsy had worked. A slapdash sort of young mother had brought the child to Outpatients in the late afternoon and had been forced to sit up and take notice when Ryan broke the news to her that the fits that her child had been having were due to epilepsy.

  ‘That is the bad news,’ he told her, as Melissa sat in with them. ‘The good news is that young children often grow out of it as they get older. The word “epilepsy” refers to abnormalities of electrical activity in the brain that can be sometimes brief, which is how you described your daughter’s seizures. Any longer and it could be a more serious matter.

  ‘You must remember never to try to bring her out of it when she has a seizure. Just make her comfortable and she will recover of her own accord. The same if she occasionally has periods of drowsiness or doesn’t answer when spoken to. Don’t make a fuss, just let her come back to normality in her own time.

  ‘A couple of things to bear in mind are to try to prevent her getting overtired or upset about anything, as those are situations that can trigger a seizure. Make sure that the staff at the school she attends are aware of the problem in case something of that kind occurs while she’s in their care.

  ‘I’m going to prescribe an anticonvulsant medicine that will help to reduce the number of seizures and in time they might disappear altogether,’ he said reassuringly.

  The young girl’s mother had listened to what he’d had to say without interruption but now she was finding her voice and the first thing she did was apologise. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t keep that other appointment. I had no idea that a few funny moments in a child’s life could be so serious.’

  ‘We’re hoping the episodes will decrease once your daughter starts taking the medication that I’m prescribing,’ he told her.

  When they’d gone Ryan said wryly, ‘So what do you think the chances are that the mother will remember what I’ve said?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Melissa told him. ‘She sounded sincere enough when she actually had something to say.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, for the child’s sake’ was the reply. ‘I’m going to have a word with Alexander’s parents to answer any questions they might have, and if the improvement is being sustained try to persuade them to go home and rest for a while.’

  At the end of the day Ryan sought her out.

  ‘Alexander seems to be stabilising now he’s on the treatment, but in case I get called back here this evening, can we call a truce?’

  ‘In what way?’ she asked.

  ‘Can I ask if you will stay with the girls if that should occur?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she said immediately. ‘Just give me a buzz if you need me.’ He might need her help with the girls but his requirements for her didn’t seem to extend beyond that.

  * * *

  Ryan arrived home shortly after Melissa, and after an evening that was dominated by listening for the phone to ring into the silence, and frequently checking that his car was still where he’d parked it, Melissa went slowly up to bed.

  It would seem that there had so far been no setbacks in Alexander’s recovery, which was good, and also good was the thought that she and Ryan had found an uneasy kind of peace. If nothing else was ever forthcoming between them, she would have to live with the memory of being naked in his arms, matching his passion with her own, and for a few blissful moments seeing a future of living and loving together with Rhianna and Martha and maybe children of their own one day. She should have known better.

  Ryan was not mercenary like David, or a shallow charmer like Julian. He was a man whose life had been changed drastically on a stormy night and he’d taken it on himself to stay faithful to his wife’s memory while he brought up their children.

  His life was rich and meaningful. Small wonder that he didn’t need any more strings to his bow, so why did she feel that she had been guided to Heatherdale for a purp
ose more important than having a roof over her head?

  Her grandmother had been a far-seeing woman. She’d known that one day Melissa would come to the small market town that was weaving its magic around her as it did with many others. Had the old lady foreseen her finding there the man who would be her heart’s desire, while she was living in the drab town house that one day she was going to turn into a dream home?

  As sleep began to claim her, her last thought was that she would seek out the place where her grandmother was buried. She recalled her father once saying that it was in the graveyard of the nearest church. When she found it she would make it beautiful, as she was doing to the house after years of neglect.

  * * *

  On Saturday morning Melissa set forth to find her grandmother’s grave.

  It was a cold and clear morning with the feeling of Christmas everywhere. The large tree that the council had erected dominated the centre of the town and shops and restaurants were in full festive mode as she walked the short distance to where she’d noticed a gracious stone building not far away from where she lived.

  Older by far than the town houses, it stood on a large mound high off the roadside with a tall spire pointing upwards and was surrounded by a tranquil graveyard.

  It took some time to find what she sought and her surmise that she was going to find long neglect there was proved correct. Overgrown and dirty, what had once been an attractive resting place was crying out to be cleaned, and once she’d found the spot where her grandmother was buried it would be just a short journey with cleaning materials and some hard work to make it beautiful once more. With all the weeds and brambles dug out of the ancient plot, it would be one way of offering her thanks to the person whose foresight had been her only hope to cling to in recent times.

  After a quick lunch Melissa was back with all the necessary tools for the job and as she walked slowly along a side path in a sheltered place next to one of the stone walls of the church her eyes widened. There was a grave of gleaming white marble there with beautiful roses on it, but it was the inscription that caught her eye.

  HERE LIES ELIZABETH (BETH) FERGUSON

  CHERISHED WIFE OF RYAN

  LOVING MOTHER OF RHIANNA AND MARTHA

  MAY SHE REST IN PEACE

  Melissa put the bucket she was carrying down slowly and laid the spade beside it. On returning to the graveyard, she’d gone down a different path to reach her grandmother’s grave. If she hadn’t she wouldn’t have seen this. It was almost as if it had been meant, but in what way?

  Yet even as she asked herself the question the answer was there. ‘I don’t want to take your place,’ she said softly. ‘I just want to love Ryan and Rhianna and Martha and help them to keep your memory alive.’

  At that moment the sun broke through cloud high above and as Melissa took a last look at the beautiful memorial to a midwife who had risked her life and lost it to the elements when she’d put an imminent birth before her own safety, she bent to pick up the spade and bucket, and the rest of the things she’d brought, and at the same moment heard the crunch of feet on the gravel path in the deserted church yard.

  When she looked up Ryan was coming towards her, and crazy as it was she felt as if he had caught her out in some misdemeanour as he observed what she’d brought with her in astonishment.

  ‘What on earth?’ he exclaimed, with a sideways glance at his wife’s grave. ‘You’ve not taken on an extra job at weekends as a grave-cleaner, have you? Only I’m in charge of this one.’

  ‘That’s not funny,’ she said stiffly. ‘The things I’ve brought with me are to clean up my grandmother’s grave. I feel it is the least I can do after her leaving me her house.

  ‘I came earlier to inspect it and of course after years of neglect it was how I thought it would be, so I went home to collect some things to help clean it up. I must have taken the wrong path. They all look alike.

  ‘Your wife’s grave is beautiful. I’m sure that she must have been the same, Ryan.’ Melissa turned to go.

  ‘Wait!’ he called. ‘Give me the spade and the bucket and anything else that is heavy. Did you honestly think I was going to let you stagger off like a pack mule?’

  She didn’t reply, just did as he’d asked and led the way to her grandmother’s overgrown grave. ‘Ugh!’ he said when he saw it. ‘That is too much for you to tackle. Perch on the seat over there while I give it a go.’

  He was taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves and she said, ‘Before you do, I have a couple of questions.’

  ‘What are they?’ he asked.

  ‘Where are the children? And did you follow me here?’

  ‘Rhianna and Martha are at a birthday party that won’t be over for a couple of hours. I didn’t follow you here. It was an opportunity to spend some quiet moments with Beth, to feel her near in the midst of my restricted life. I came because the future was becoming unclear and I hoped that I might see the way ahead better after some quiet time with her.’

  ‘And I’ve butted into that, haven’t I?’ she said. ‘Sallying forth with my grave-cleaning equipment. I’m sorry, Ryan.’

  ‘You don’t have to be,’ he told her. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong since the moment of your arrival in Heatherdale, except perhaps make me doubt some of my decisions. Maybe I needed someone or something to take the blinkers off my eyes.

  ‘With regard to today and us meeting like this, I can always come again as this place is so near where I live. However, before I start cleaning the grime of ages off this imposing headstone, I have a question for you.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Are you going to partner me, as you promised, to Mollie’s wedding? Only you didn’t sound too sure the last time it was mentioned.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ she told him flatly. ‘If you recall the occasion of my lack of enthusiasm it was when only hours before we’d made love and I was unsure whether you had just used me because I was there or if I hadn’t made the grade when it came to your sex life.’

  He threw the spade down with a clatter. ‘I don’t have a “sex life”, Melissa!

  ‘The kind of life I live doesn’t allow for that. I made love to you because you were and still are totally desirable, and you are the only woman I have wanted to make love with since I lost Beth.

  ‘The way I behaved afterwards was because I felt guilty. Because that kind of magic didn’t fit in with the vows I made when I lost her, not because I didn’t want you like crazy.’

  He picked up the spade. ‘And now, as nothing has changed, can I proceed with the job in hand? It is going to take some time, so I will have to keep an eye on the graveyard clock with regard to the birthday party.’

  So Ryan had wanted her. To hear that was joy untold, or at least it would be if he hadn’t finished what he’d had to say with a reminder that nothing had changed with regard to his commitment.

  ‘Don’t be late on my account,’ she told him, bringing the moment back to reality. ‘There’s no rush with this. I shall persist until my grandmother’s grave is returned to its original splendour. With regard to the party, I could pick the children up if you want me to.’

  ‘It would be good if you could,’ he replied. ‘They will be pleased to see you and I can carry on here until the light fades. The party is at the house of one of Rhianna’s school friends and Martha was included in the invitation.’

  ‘What time do you want me to pick them up?’ she questioned. ‘I’ll need directions on how to get there, not being a native of this beautiful place. I can’t believe what I ever saw in life in the big city.’

  He rested on the spade for a moment and with his vivid blue gaze observing her said, ‘So you have no regrets at finding yourself living in Heatherdale?’

  ‘No,’ she said gravely. ‘I am employed in the kind of work I’ve always wanted to do, with a first-class paediatric consultant to learn from in the process of healing sick children, and have a house that has twice as much character even in its present state
as the over-the-top expensive showpiece that was in keeping with my father’s vision of an ideal home.’

  She didn’t mention that she might also have found the man of her dreams living just next door, too.

  Ryan’s glance was still on her in the silence that followed and she brought herself back down to earth by saying, ‘So, when do you want me to pick up the children and where? It will be dark soon so it would be better to go now, I feel. I’d rather to be too early than too late.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed, and gave her the address where the party was being held and directions to get there.

  ‘I’ll take your tools home with me and see you back there later.’

  As he watched her go, snug against the cold in a warm jacket and leggings with a woolly hat covering her head, he saw a different vision of her in his mind’s eye, looking up at him from the covers of his bed, beautiful, wanton, adoring. What had he done?

  Spoilt it, made her feel cheap because of the self-sacrificing dogma that he lived his life by. The children had more sense than he had. They already loved Melissa without any reserve. But their life with their mother had been short, while his love for Beth had been there since his early teens and it had deepened with every passing day. Never once had he expected that they wouldn’t grow old together.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN RHIANNA AND Martha came tripping out of the party with all the other young guests their faces lit up when they saw her, and as Melissa hugged them to her it was a moment of unexpected pleasure in the approaching dusk of a winter afternoon.

  ‘Where’s Daddy?’ Martha wanted to know, and when Melissa had explained they climbed into the back of the car and talked about the party, Mollie’s wedding, and Christmas all the way home. Melissa wished that she could visualise some joy coming her way in the weeks to come.

  When they arrived back at home, Ryan had returned and had hot drinks waiting for the three of them. With the children perched one on either side of him, he was listening intently to their excited account of the party while Melissa observed the three of them bleakly.