Well, he’d like it now, thank you very much.
*
It was the morning of moving day. Lula was dressed in old jeans and a green-and-black-checked lumberjack shirt that she usually did painting in. Her hair was tied back with a blue bandana, except for the long fringe of pink and purple hair that fell over the left side of her face.
Packing was hard work. She really hadn’t thought she had much, but she was finding her belongings all over the cottage.
Anubis was still plugged in to the wall, with electricity powering the small lamp in the top of his tank, but she was hoping to drop him off at her friend’s place on her way to Portsmouth. The rats had a blanket over their cage and were also ready to go, though she could see they’d managed to pull some of the blanket through the bars and chew on it.
A feeling of hurt filled her when she stood at the kitchen window and looked out upon the long back garden. A garden that was beginning to fill with bloom and blossom. A garden whose roses she would never see in full bloom. A garden that had once housed a scared teenager in its shed. A teenager who was now back home and being a mother to her baby with the support of her family.
So much had happened since Lula had come to Atlee Wold, and she knew she’d remember every part of it: Patrick, Ruby and the baby, Mrs Macabee, Bonnie, her dance class, all her patients and their families. The surgery.
Olly.
Dr Oliver James.
Possibly the most handsome man she would ever know or have the misfortune to love. A man she should never have got close to.
Just thinking about leaving him was painful. But she knew she had to do it. It was the only way to stop them both from hurting even more further down the line, when Olly wanted to realise his dream of having children.
She heard a bump from upstairs and wondered what he was doing. He’d arrived about an hour ago. Grey and glum, with enormous bags under his eyes that spoke volumes about a sleepless night. She’d had one herself. Going over it all in her mind.
But she was doing it for him. For them.
She’d come back for visits. Her mother was in Atlee Wold—that would always be true for as long as Elizabeth was alive. Every month or so she’d return. It wasn’t a proper goodbye, after which they’d never see each other again. It wasn’t as if she was deserting him, was it?
Another thud, and this time she heard him swear before he came thundering down the stairs and rushing over to the sink, holding his thumb under the cold tap.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Caught my hand on a nail.’
There was plenty of blood, and Lula ripped open one of her boxes and pulled out a first-aid kit, rummaging for bandages and scissors and tape. ‘Let me see.’
‘I’m all right, Lula.’
‘Let me see—’
‘I said I’m all right!’ he shouted at her, and she stood back from him, shocked. He’d never, ever raised his voice at her like that and she wasn’t used to it.
The shock on her face must have been clear, because he sighed and then apologised. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.’
‘I’m just trying to help,’ she said quietly.
‘I know. I’m just…frustrated, that’s all.’
‘With me?’ She stood at his side, a whole head shorter than him.
‘Who else would drive me to distraction?’
He grimaced and pulled his thumb free of the water. But the blood still seeped out and he had to push it back under the flow again.
She opened a gauze pad and then grabbed his hand, pulling it towards her and wrapping the pad tightly around his thumb.
‘This might need stitches.’ She held it firmly, then indicated that he should do so as she wound a bandage around his thumb.
By the time she was done his hand looked comical with its big bandage and he couldn’t help but smile. ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem. Get someone to take you to A&E. That needs stitches.’
‘Dad’ll do it.’
‘You need the proper equipment.’
‘We have it at the surgery. We used to perform minor ops there—don’t worry about it.’ He got up and moved away from her.
Lula could still feel the way his cold hand had felt in hers. His hands were so large compared to her dainty ones, but they had fitted so well together. She had spent hours one bedtime, lying there, examining his hands and looking at the way they interlocked with hers…
There was the toot of a horn from outside. She got up to walk to the front of the cottage. ‘The lorry’s here.’
‘Right. Marvellous.’
‘It shouldn’t take them more than an hour to pack up my stuff…maybe half that.’
‘And then you’ll go?’
She nodded. Had his voice cracked on that last word? ‘I’m sorry this hurts you, Olly. I can’t say it enough, but it’s the right thing to do.’
He shook his head. ‘For who?’
‘For us. You know this, Olly. You know it! You’re a traditional guy. You want the whole relationship, marriage and kids package—you know you do! I can’t give you that!’
He stalked across the room and took her hands in his. ‘But I love you, Lula! Surely that counts for something?’
How could he do this to her? Today? ‘Of course it does…and I love you, too. Yes, I do. I know you think I don’t, and that I’m heartless and just walking away, but I’m not! I’m protecting us. I’m protecting you!’
‘From what? I’m a big boy, Lula, I can look after myself.’
‘From me. Believe me, you don’t want the hurt that I’ll cause you some day, when it finally sinks in that I can’t have the babies you want.’
‘I want to be with you. Babies is something for the future—I’m not thinking about that right now.’
‘Well I am. Because I have to!’ She pulled free and began stacking her boxes by the front door, slamming them down on top of each other, determined not to let him see her crying.
‘You never even gave us a chance.’
‘How dare you? Of course I did. We had fun, didn’t we? We had our time together? Was that not giving us a chance?’
‘You always intended to walk away, but you never bothered to tell me that.’
‘I didn’t think I had to. I was a locum. The word itself implies being temporary. I thought my life was my own.’
‘It is. But then you slept with me, and we got involved and started going out. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I thought if you were in a relationship with someone then you told them your intentions!’
She slammed another box down on the floor, its contents rattling dangerously. ‘Did you tell me yours?’
‘What?’ He looked puzzled.
‘Did you ever tell me your intentions?’
‘Well…no. But we were in a relationship together, I thought we were moving forward. I thought we were together…’
‘You thought… You never asked me once what I might think. Did you?’
‘Because I thought you were telling me everything already. By being with me. I thought you were declaring your intention to stay.’
‘You assumed—and you know what assumptions make…’ She yanked open the front door and indicated the stack of boxes to the two removal guys.
Olly followed her into the blossoming front garden. The Blue Moon roses the cottage was named for had not yet bloomed. ‘Aren’t you assuming? Assuming that I’ll want kids?’
‘Don’t you?’
He ground his teeth. ‘Yes. But there are ways around that—ways to fight infertility. You should know that better than anyone. You are a doctor.’
‘Yes, I am! Don’t you see that’s the reason? Olly? Don’t you see?’ She began to cry. Nothing could stop the tears from flowing. Nothing could stop this dam from opening. For now he’d got to the root of the problem that had bothered her for years. ‘Don’t you know why I fill my life to the brim and constantly challenge myself?’
He shook his head.
‘Because I’m the s
ame as you. I am. I’m a traditionalist, too. I want marriage and, dammit, yes, I want children. And I want to have them with you most of all. But I know I can’t. I’m leaving now to protect myself—not just you. I have to leave because I can’t bear to be with you and not be able to give you the one thing that I want most for myself!’
She leaned back against the garden gate, her arms folded over her chest as she sobbed.
‘The hair, the rats, the dancing—all the crazy things that make me me are crazy things that keep my mind off the one thing I want most in the world. I have to leave, Olly. It would be torture to stay and see your face when every month nothing happens.’
She turned her back on him and walked into the cottage.
Olly stood there, shell-shocked, digesting her words. Wasn’t there anything he could do to change this? He stood in the garden unmoving, like a statue. The removal men walked back and forth past him, loading up Lula’s boxes. The urge to get them from the lorry and put them back in the cottage was stronger than anything he’d ever experienced before.
How could he make her change her mind? He’d told her he loved her and it was true. He’d fallen in love with Dr Lula Chance. Lula Love. Louise. Whatever name she chose to go by. He didn’t care about the crazy things that made her who she was. He loved those crazy things! He loved her! Lula! All five foot three of her. And he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it!
Olly darted back into the house to try and persuade her to stay, to give them both a chance, but she was standing there, holding her rat cage, her handbag over her shoulder. Anubis was already gone. Packed safely in the lorry. He had to let her know that she was more than just a breeding machine. That her inability to have kids wasn’t what defined her.
It all looked so final now.
‘Don’t go. Please.’
‘Olly, don’t do this…’
‘I’m begging you. I will get down on my knees if you want—but, Lula, you can’t go.’
‘I have to.’
‘Lula—’
She pushed past him. ‘No, Olly!’
She hurried down the path towards Betsy, placing the rat cage carefully in the back, then moved round to the driver’s door.
Olly ran to her side and held the car door, preventing her from shutting it. ‘You can’t leave like this! I love you—does that not count for anything?’
There were tears all down her face, and her eyes were reddened and swollen from crying. ‘Oh, it counts.’
But she wouldn’t be stopped. She was determined to go and she pulled the door shut and started the engine.
Olly stepped back, contemplating throwing himself onto the bonnet of her car. He didn’t care who saw. All he could think was that the woman he loved was about to drive out of his life because she couldn’t give him children.
He banged on the window. ‘I don’t need to have children. I just need you!’
She shook her head sadly and then turned away.
He heard her shift the car into first gear and then the Beetle called Betsy carried his beloved Lula away down the lane. He watched her go, hoping that the car would stop, that she’d turn around, get out, come running back—anything… But she didn’t do any of those things.
Betsy and Lula disappeared.
Olly sank to his knees in the street, tears on his face, oblivious to all who were watching.
CHAPTER NINE
OLLY STARED AT his computer. There were a patient’s details up on the screen: name, address, date of birth and medical history. The patient herself was even sitting in front of him, talking about something or other, but he wasn’t really listening.
Lula had been gone for four weeks. Four interminably long weeks in which his father had decided against early retirement and had promised to stay on at the practice until they found a suitable long-term replacement.
No more locums, he’d said. Unless they got desperate.
Olly was past desperate. He was forlorn and lost. The first few days after she’d gone he’d kept himself optimistic with the thought that she’d come back. That she’d realise her mistake, discover she couldn’t live without him and return.
He’d believed it so much he’d even kept the cottage clean and the fire ready in case she needed it. But as those first few days had turned into a week, and then two, he’d stopped going to the cottage and had accepted that she wasn’t coming back. Lula was well and truly gone.
He’d lost her. The one woman he’d ever truly loved.
He kept checking his phones, his landline and mobile, to see if there were any texts or messages, but both phones were stubbornly silent and devoid of anything from Lula. He wasn’t eating properly and seemed to exist on tea. Once he’d even gone round to Elizabeth Love’s house and sat and talked to her, but even though Lula had been in contact with her mother she hadn’t mentioned Olly at all.
He knew she’d started her post in Portsmouth and had thought about writing to her, but each time he took up a pen and paper or clicked on his emails, the words wouldn’t come.
What could he say that he hadn’t already said?
His patient was still talking.
‘…and then he said he wouldn’t take in my papers or mail or feed the cat because he had a life of his own, and that I’d have to find someone else to do it. I mean, does that sound like a kindly neighbour to you?’
He registered the last part. Mrs Bates was always in, complaining about her neighbour Mr Brown. Olly somewhat suspected there might be something between them, or maybe there once had been, because they certainly seemed to bicker about each other a lot.
‘I don’t know what to say, Mrs Bates. Mr Brown does like to keep himself to himself.’
‘But that’s not normal, is it? Neighbours aren’t like what they used to be.’ She tutted in a haughty manner. ‘People used to look out for each other in my day. Help one another. Like that lady doctor that used to be here…Dr Chance. She helped me out whenever I asked, and she even gave me extra tuition at her dancing class. And she wasn’t a neighbour. Just a friend, really. But she helped out.’ Mrs Bates settled her hands on her lap, clutching the strap of her handbag. ‘She was a lovely doctor—it’s a pity she didn’t stay.’
Olly swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t budge. ‘She was.’
‘Such a pretty thing, too. Single, she said. I thought you and she might become an item…’
Mrs Bates was fishing. She knew full well that he and Lula had been seeing each other—she just wanted confirmation from the horse’s mouth.
He stared at a pile of paperwork. ‘She had to move on.’
‘But not before she found her family—isn’t that right, Doctor? Lizzy Love confirmed it herself—told me that Dr Chance was her long-lost daughter!’
He nodded. ‘I believe so.’
‘You’d think she’d stay. You know…for family.’
But it had never just been about family. Had it? Lula had come to find her mother, yes, but had got involved with Olly, too. And even though she wanted children—badly, as it turned out—she’d walked away from trying to find out if she could have them with him.
He’d lied about possibly not wanting children. Of course he wanted kids. His own parents had been great. His dad had told him about his mum—about how wonderful she’d been and all those cute stories about her. He’d had a good childhood even with just his father to look after him. He wanted to be a father himself, it was true. He was a traditionalist.
But Lula’s leukaemia had made her infertile. Or rather the chemo had. And she believed that he would hate her eventually for not being able to give him the children he so badly wanted.
I could never have hated her. We would have found a way. I’m sure of it!
Medical technology was moving on all the time. Miracles happened. And if they didn’t for them then there were other options—surrogacy, adoption, fostering, IVF. Solutions that other people used but Lula was not willing to contemplate.
Perhaps the urge to hav
e a child was stronger for her than he’d realised?
Mrs Bates realised she wasn’t going to get anything out of him gossip-wise and stood and saw herself out. After she’d gone he let out a big sigh and leaned back in his chair, his head in his hands.
No more patients today. His afternoon was free.
If he went back to the house he’d just rattle around the rooms until bedtime, and it was difficult being at home. So many of the rooms contained memories of Lula. Especially his bedroom, where they’d shared themselves physically. He hated climbing into bed alone, without her. He hated waking up alone just to go through another day of tormenting himself.
I’ll go and see Lula’s mother again.
She might have heard more from Lula.
*
Elizabeth Love was out feeding her chickens, spreading seed across the grass as the brown fluffy birds pecked and scratched at the ground, their heads bobbing back and forth, cackling away.
Olly got out of his car and waved a hand in greeting.
‘Oliver! I haven’t seen you for a week—have you been all right?’
‘Existing. Still breathing. Does that count?’
‘I miss her, too. But I guess I’ve had years of experience, so I can cope with it better.’
He smiled. It had been her choice. To give up Lula. He couldn’t forget that. Though he understood her reasons.
‘It is hard…’ He leaned against her broken gate, and then pushed away from it forcefully. ‘There just doesn’t seem to be any point to anything now!’
Elizabeth blinked at him. The sun was in her eyes. ‘Of course there’s a point.’
‘I can’t see it if it’s there. Life just seems so…flat…without her in it.’
She came over to him and laid a hand on his arm. ‘Oliver…sometimes it’s darkest before dawn.’
‘Are you saying everything will be better in the morning? Because my dad’s been saying that for nearly a month now, and let me tell you the mornings are the worst.’
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