The Lakeland Doctor's Decision

by Gill Sanderson

  The Lakeland Doctor’s Decision

  ***

  by Gill Sanderson

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  EPILOGUE

  Gill Sanderson

  Gill Sanderson

  www.accentpress.co.uk

  Dedication

  To all my talented children

  (with thanks for the research help)

  Chapter One

  One more week, thought Faith as she drove home. She would only be acting head of the Obstetrics and Gynaecology Department at Dale Head Hospital for one more week before the new consultant took over.

  Could she bear it? She’d given so much to this department, had taken over so many day-to-day tasks from the retiring consultant Freddie Myers – it was going to be hard to revert to a traditional second-in-command position. What made it worse was that everyone had thought she would get the job. They’d thought it would be a formality. She was Dr Faith Taylor, born and brought up in the area. Dale Head had been her first post after training, she’d grown with the department and knew the hospital inside out. She was quietly – and justifiably – proud of the changes in practice she had made over the years; the department now ran so much more smoothly.

  But the Board had ignored all this and had appointed someone else, a high-flyer from a large Birmingham hospital, with a wider history of surgery and – crucially – experience in running his own, much larger, department.

  Boards prefer to appoint from outside. They think it shakes people out of a rut. Those had been Freddie’s apologetic words when he’d broken it to her that she hadn’t got the promotion. To Faith it had been like a kick in the teeth. She loved Dale Head Hospital, but she felt it had betrayed her. Perhaps she had been stuck in a rut for too long. Perhaps it was time to move on. Certainly she wouldn’t have anything like her current freedom and responsibility under a new, high-flying consultant who was intent on making the department his own.

  Enough of work problems. As always, she felt a lightening in her heart as she turned into her drive. When she and Mike were house-hunting and they found Fell View cottage in Little Allaby, they had fallen in love with it on sight. A grey stone building with a thick slated roof. A hundred and fifty years old at least. It looked sturdy, made to last.

  People often asked if she felt lonely now, living on her own. Well, if she was going to feel lonely then this would be the place she’d pick. But she wasn’t. She had her memories, her two younger sisters lived only five miles away in the family home, she was happy in the village, and she loved her job. It was all the life she needed. Loneliness wasn’t a problem.

  But she was tired. She picked up the mail from behind the door and went upstairs to change out of her formal suit into shorts and a T-shirt.

  She’d worked a full day and a fair bit of the previous night, but it was still only six o’clock. She decided to take a mug of tea into her garden and enjoy the evening air. As she waited for the kettle to boil she leafed through the mail. So much of it was junk, thrown unopened into the waste paper bin. A couple of bills and ...

  She frowned, recognising the handwriting on the next envelope. Why should her retiring consultant be writing to her? He was supposed to be enjoying the last few days of his holiday, playing golf with an old friend on the other side of the Pennines. She slit the envelope open. There were several sheets of typed A4 inside, along with a handwritten note on hospital paper.

  “Dear Faith, I’ve persuaded Tommy to send these details and an application form to you before the post is officially advertised. Give you time to think. Go for it. I believe you would stand a good chance. Freddie.”

  What was this all about? What post? She knew Freddie had very much wanted her to succeed him as head of department – but the job wasn’t his to give. She took her tea and the details out onto her patio. As she read the information, she felt a small knot of ... excitement? Apprehension? It seemed the present Obs & Gynie department head at Hadrian’s Wall hospital – Freddie’s friend Tommy – was also retiring. Applications were invited from suitably qualified candidates to begin work next January. There followed a description of the job and a list of the qualities required.

  Faith knew the hospital, had helped out there several times and liked it. She found herself agreeing that she stood a very good chance of getting the post. It would be better than hanging around here, humiliated at being passed over. She felt challenged – and also disturbed. Perhaps it was the thought of having to make a new start, of leaving where she was comfortable.

  Ridiculous, she said to herself. She knew in her heart this was what she must do. If things had worked out as they were supposed to, she and Mike would have been happy in Little Allaby, would have raised a family, would have settled even further into the village. Any progress in her career would have taken place at Dale Head hospital and it wouldn’t have mattered when. But things had not worked out that way. Mike was gone, there was no family, and Faith had her future to think of. She certainly wasn’t going to put herself through the pain of a relationship again – the only thing left was her professional life.

  Boards prefer to appoint from outside.

  In Faith’s job she was used to making split-second decisions. She made one now. She pushed the tea to one side, fetched a pen, filled in the form. No need to look anything up, she had all the necessary details in her head. She stuck a stamp firmly in the corner of the envelope and strode up the side path to the postbox before she could change her mind.

  Then she walked back and made herself another mug of tea. She’d done it. Taken the first step. She closed her eyes, telling herself it was for the best, trying to relax.

  The sounds of home soothed her. There was the faint hum of occasional traffic, the chirping of birds in her little cluster of trees, the distant sound of someone’s radio playing, and ... that was unusual. From somewhere quite close came the sound of a child murmuring, as if talking to herself or maybe to a toy. Faith had largely brought up her two younger sisters, she knew an imaginary game when she heard one. But who could it be? There were no children nearby that she knew of.

  She opened her eyes, looked down the length of her garden. Her garden backed onto another one, belonging to a cottage similar to hers. It had been vacant for quite a while. There had been interest in it but the price was too high for most locals. She wondered if had been sold at last.

  Faith stood and walked down her garden. ‘Hello,’ she called. ‘Anyone there?’ She didn’t like mysteries involving children.

  She noticed her shed door was open. It had a habit of not latching properly. As she reached out her hand to shut it, there was the sound of a giggle and a stern ‘Shh, Panda.’

  Faith realised there was a gap at the end of her boundary fence. If you were small it would be possible to squeeze through from that garden into hers. From there, a little girl could sneak up behind the bushes and into the garden shed. She grinned. ‘Coming to get you! Ready or not!’ This was a game she had played with her sisters. There was another giggle – an excited one.

  She crept round the back of the shed, popped her head around the open door. ‘Found you!’

  In a corner of the shed, a mischievous expression on her face, sat a little girl in a red dress. She carried a slightly grubby, bright pink panda by one arm. At the sight of Faith she shrieked with laughter.

  What was she doing here? She was about five years old, perhaps a few mo
nths older. Her body and face still had the chubbiness of childhood but Faith suspected that in time this little one would be a beauty. Flying dark hair, the most wonderful green eyes. Her expression was odd. Faith was good at reading faces, she thought it a necessary part of a doctor’s skills. And although she was laughing now, there was unhappiness in the back of those lovely eyes.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘My name is Faith. This is a surprise, finding you in my shed.’

  ‘I’m Molly. Me and Panda are ’splorers.’

  ‘That’s exciting. Where have you explored from?’

  ‘Our new house. We were thirsty and there’s nothing to drink ’cos I drank all the orange and there’s no water in the tap and Daddy says we can’t go and buy something till this man comes, so Panda and I ...’

  ‘Molly! Where are you? Oh heavens, Molly! Molly, come here! Now!’

  It must be Molly’s father. Faith could hear the panic in his voice. She darted out of the shed. He sounded close.

  ‘Molly!’ Yes, the voice was coming from the next-door garden and sounded absolutely frantic.

  ‘Over here,’ called Faith at once. ‘There’s a little girl in a red dress playing hide and seek in my shed.’

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ The man raced up his lawn, placed a hand on the fence to test it for steadiness, then vaulted over with no further ado. Faith was impressed – he was an athlete!

  She went back into the shed. ‘I think Daddy is worried about you.’ She held out her hand but Molly lifted her arms to be picked up. Faith did so.

  The man pelted into view, catching himself on the open doorway. ‘Molly! I was so worried. You know better than to run away. What have I always told you?’

  Molly’s arms tightened round Faith’s neck – and Faith found herself liking it. ‘Me and Panda wanted to ’splore.’

  ‘Then explore with me, sweetheart.’ He held out his arms and Molly reached for him, wrapping her arms round his neck as tightly as they had been wrapped round Faith’s. The man brushed the hair from her eyes, kissed her on the forehead. ‘No running off and hiding, remember? It’s not a good idea.’

  He looked at Faith. ‘Hi. I’m sorry about this but at times Molly ...’

  Good voice, Faith registered. Low and musical and friendly. The kind of voice that made you feel comfortable, feel wanted. Then for the first time she looked closely at him – and blinked. Where had this man come from? He was big, broad-shouldered, trim-waisted, his body looked toned. His brown hair was curly, the sort that looked just as sexy crisp as it did dishevelled. He was dressed casually, in chinos and black T-shirt, revealing muscular arms. Faith was impressed. This was a really attractive man. But, as he had a family, it was a good thing she wasn’t interested in men any more.

  His eyes met Faith’s in an equally startled fashion. After looking at her for just a little longer than he might have, he glanced down at his daughter. ‘Molly, what am I going to do with you?’ He looked up again. ‘I’m so sorry if she disturbed you. She’s new to gardens. She was probably excited.’ He scrubbed his hair with his free hand. ‘And she likes hiding. It worries the living daylights out of me at times. How did she get here?’

  Faith shook herself free of those eyes. They were also a glorious shade of green, the same as his daughter’s. ‘There’s a gap ... one of the fence panels ...’

  ‘I’ll see to it.’

  ‘You?’

  He took a deep breath. ‘We’re moving in, as you’ve probably guessed. It’s taking longer than I expected and unfortunately we’ve run out of anything to drink. There’s supposed to be a man coming to turn on the gas, water and so on and I daren’t leave the house till he shows up. I can’t find the stopcock. I was looking for it when I realised Molly had slipped away.’

  This was Little Allaby. People hung together, people helped each other. And this chap was clearly approaching the end of his tether. Faith smiled. ‘I can’t tell you where the stopcock is – every cottage’s plumbing is unique along here – but would Molly like to stay and have a drink of orange with me now that she’s found her way here? I know you don’t know me but we could sit out on my patio up there so you can see us from your house all the time while you go back and wait. It might keep her amused.’

  ‘Want orange!’ shouted Molly. ‘Want to sit on the pat ... patio.’

  Faith was surprised. Why was the child shouting all of a sudden?

  ‘You don’t mind?’ The man looked at her, startled. ‘Molly can be a little – demanding.’

  ‘I don’t mind at all. I brought up two younger sisters. They’re adults now, of course, but I well remember what they were like. I can handle it.’

  ‘Want orange,’ Molly shouted again, obviously feeling that there was no need for extra conversation.

  ‘Molly! Try to be nice for a minute.’ His expression suggested that he didn’t think Molly being nice for a minute was very likely. But she had been a sweetie when playing in the shed. What was going on?

  ‘It’s no problem, really.’

  He hesitated. ‘No, we’d better go back.’

  He was obviously cautious about leaving his child with someone he had never met before. Faith liked him for it. She said, ‘I know what you’re thinking, but once you’ve lived here for a while you’ll know that Little Allaby people are genuinely public-spirited. Molly and I will be on the patio, sitting in the sun. You’ll never not be able to see her, I promise. If she gets to be a handful I’ll bring her back, otherwise collect her when you’re ready. If it’s Jack Kirk who’s going to help with the house then you can bet he’ll be on time. He’s very dependable.

  ‘I think the name I was given was Jack Kirk. Look, you’re very kind, but – ’ He paused, wincing as Molly wriggled to the ground. ‘All right,’ he said as she opened her mouth and drew breath to yell again. ‘You can stay. Will you be good for the lady?’

  ‘She’s called Faith. And she’s going to get me some orange.’ Molly smiled sunnily up at her father.

  Then the man smiled, really smiled, and Faith was lost. It showed him as he should be, a loving father relieved that his child was happy. When he turned that same smile on her, Faith could see he was genuinely grateful. How could such a warm, smiling man have such an awkward daughter?

  Ignoring the strange ripple that ran through her, Faith said, ‘I hear the sound of rattling that can only be Jack’s van. You’d better go. Come across when you’ve finished.’ She reached out and took the little girl, who promptly grabbed her hand tightly. It was obvious that she had no intention of letting her new friend go just yet.

  The man smiled again and said, ‘I’ll see you in a few minutes then. Faith is a lovely name, by the way.’ Then he turned to lope down her garden and vault the fence again.

  ‘Carry me,’ said Molly. Faith was happy to. There was not much weight and she was a strong person. So why was her heart beating so quickly? Holding Molly’s small, warm body firmly, she walked back to the house.

  It struck her that she hadn’t asked her new neighbour’s name, hadn’t asked anything about him. Then again, there had hardly been time. She could rectify that when he came back for Molly. She realised with a nasty jolt that she was attracted to him. Physically attracted! That would never do. His wife was presumably inside, sorting out the cottage, assuming Molly was safe under her father’s eye. Faith hoped when she met her that they’d get on. It would be tricky if not.

  Once on the patio, she sat Molly down and told her she was to stay right there and she would fetch some orange. ‘Not orange with bits in,’ said Molly. ‘I don’t like bits.’

  ‘No bits,’ Faith promised.

  ‘And I’m hungry. Daddy gave me a sandwich but I didn’t like it. He didn’t cut the crusts off like Grandma does.’

  Faith paused, puzzled. ‘Grandma makes your sandwiches?’

  ‘When I live there. But now me and Daddy are going to live here.’

  Faith felt that she was getting more information than was proper. ‘What kind of sandwiches do you
like?’ she asked briskly.

  ‘No crusts. And I like white cheese that you spread and green crunchy circles on it.’

  ‘I’ll do you a sandwich like that. But I’m going to eat your crusts. My grandma always said crusts would make my hair curl.’

  Solemnly Molly looked at Faith’s dark bob. ‘You haven’t got curly hair. It didn’t work did it?’

  ‘It doesn’t work every time, but I keep trying. You sit here in the sun and I’ll be back in a moment. Remember we promised Daddy he would always be able to see you.’ Faith went into her kitchen to pour the orange and make a sandwich, looking out of the window at Molly all the time. It was a good thing she’d stopped at the bakery on her way home and bought a wholemeal loaf.

  After finishing the drink and sandwich, Molly investigated the top of the garden asking the names of plants and flowers and wanting to know if any fairies lived here like they did in her books. Faith made sure that she was always clearly visible from the other house. She noticed that although she was chatting happily, Molly constantly looked at the end of garden. Eventually she asked. ‘When will Daddy come to get me?’

  ‘I think it’ll be very soon,’ said Faith, hearing the rattle of a departing van, and two minutes later they saw him walking down his garden. Molly ran to meet him, arms waving. Faith walked down too, smiling at him.

  ‘You were right. It was Jack Kirk,’ he said. ‘That man is a miracle worker. He went straight to the stopcock – in the coal shed of all places – turned on everything, told me to avoid the wasps’ nest in the wall, said he had painted the house four years ago and the paint was good for another ten. I’m going to enjoy living here.’ Once again, so easily, he vaulted over the fence. ‘Thank you so much for looking after Molly. I’ll take her now and not bother you any further.’

  ‘Want to stay in Faith’s garden,’ Molly screamed and clung to Faith’s leg.

  Hmm, a bit of a change in temperament there. Faith looked at the rising colour in Molly’s face and said hastily, ‘Would you like a cup of tea? We’re going to be neighbours after all.’