He had a smile of his own for her as they left Liam writing another note to Abby and went into the sitting room. ‘The four of us fit together like the pieces of a jigsaw, don’t we? If Kezia were to show up now, I don’t think it would bother Abby one bit. She sees you as her mother in everything but name.’
What was coming next? Laura thought as her heart skipped a beat. Was Jon suggesting that they could soon put that right by changing her name to his? That they should marry for the sake of the children?
She would do a lot for Liam and Abby, move heaven and earth for them if she had to. But she’d already had one experience of giving her heart to Jon and getting no response in return. She couldn’t contemplate a marriage under the same circumstances.
Since she’d come back to live in Heathermere he’d shown her consideration and kindness, gone out of his way to help her, but she was the last person he was ever likely to see in a romantic light.
He was watching her, waiting for some kind of response, and when it came it wasn’t what he was expecting.
‘If you are hinting that we should get together for the children’s sake, I’m afraid you will have to forget it,’ she said levelly. ‘You’ve already told me what you would want from a marriage. I would want the same if I ever marry again, and it wouldn’t be a case of being prepared to make wedding vows for the sake of convenience. Why consider settling for second best?’
‘I wasn’t going to suggest anything of the kind. You presume too much,’ he told her flatly, as it registered that Laura had just done everything except tell him outright that she didn’t love him. ‘Just because I mentioned that Abby loves you as if you were her mother, it doesn’t mean that I’ve taken note of what she heard a patient say about us.’
‘So she’s told you.’
‘And you, too, by the sound of it. What did you say to her?’
‘That I loved her dearly, but that you and I are just friends.’
‘I see.’
‘What would you expect me to say?’
‘Whatever the truth is, and, Laura, you can rest assured that I would never want you to be a sacrifice on my domestic altar.’
He was getting to his feet. ‘Maybe tomorrow you’ll be thinking more rationally.’ And before she could tell him she was sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusion, he went.
When she’d dropped the children off at Marjorie’s the following morning, Laura wasn’t looking forward to facing Jon. She’d spent most of the night fretting about the mistake she’d made in misreading his mind in such an embarrassing way.
Every time she thought about the cold-blooded manner with which she’d brought up the subject of them marrying she cringed. Yet she’d meant every word she’d said, only to be told that there was nothing further from his mind.
What a mess she’d made of it. If she had any sense, she would give up on Jon. There were plenty of presentable men around who would be less difficult to understand than he was.
When he’d knocked on her door that morning to leave Abby with her before going down to the surgery, he’d given her a long thoughtful look, but apart from the bare neccessities had made no other comments, and her spirits had dropped even further.
In the middle of the morning, as if the fates had tuned into her earlier thinking, a ‘presentable man’ appeared in answer to her summoning the next patient, and when he saw her seated behind the desk he exclaimed, ‘Laura Hewitt! I don’t believe it. I wasn’t expecting you to be Dr Cavendish.’
‘Cavendish is my married name, Roger,’ she told him with a smile. ‘Where have you appeared from? I’ve been back here for a while but haven’t seen you around the village.’
‘That’s because I’ve been living in France. My firm is involved in a big engineering project there and I’ve just popped over to see my mother, and what do I find? That not one but two of the friends of my youth are running the village practice. I tried to get an appointment with Jon but he was fully booked, so the receptionist steered me in your direction.’
Roger Jameson was the same age as Jon and herself. The son of the wealthiest landowner in the village, he’d lived in a manor house in large grounds when they had been young, but had always been eager to make up a threesome if they’d let him, and now here he was. A fair-haired man of average height and build, dressed smartly and lookng the part of the village squire. The role that had once been his father’s.
‘I’m here about my mother,’ he said. ‘We lost my dad a couple of years ago and she has gone steadily downhill ever since. It hasn’t helped, me working away, but that is going to end shortly and I’ll be coming back here to live.
‘And in the meantime, while I’m here I would like a visit from the surgery to assess just how bad her rheumatism is, and what can be done about it. Mum can hardly walk and lifting anything is out of the question.
‘I asked her if she’d seen Jon and discovered that she hasn’t consulted anyone. She’s become almost a recluse, living on her own in that big place. A woman from the village comes in twice a week, and one evening an old friend calls round, and that’s it.
‘Can I make an appointment for her to see one of you? I believe you have another doctor in the practice besides Jon and yourself, but I would prefer Mum to be seen by someone that we both know.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed. ‘I’m sure that Jon would prefer to treat your mother himself as I’ve only just joined the practice, but if they can’t fit you in with him at the desk, I will gladly come out to see her.’
He smiled. ‘Thanks, Laura. It’s great to meet up again. How has life been treating you?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m doing OK, though things haven’t been easy. I lost my husband and am bringing up my little boy on my own. I’ve moved into one of the apartments up above.’
‘Really! That’s a coincidence. It is what Jon is doing too, isn’t it. Bringing up little Abby without a mother. You’ll be good company for each other. What is the chance of you joining me for a drink in the pub this evening? It’s the night that my mother’s friend visits, so she won’t be alone.’
She smiled across at him. There were no hidden depths to Roger. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she told him, ‘but can’t promise. I’ll ask Jon to keep an eye on Liam for me if he hasn’t got anything planned, and hopefully will see you there.’
That evening, after they’d eaten together as usual, but in a subdued atmosphere, Laura said to Jon, ‘Would you mind being left in charge of Liam once he’s asleep?’
‘No, of course not,’ he told her. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘The pub.’
‘The pub!’ he echoed. ‘For what reason?’
‘To have a drink with Roger Jameson. I saw him in the surgery this morning and he asked me if I would join him there, for old times’ sake.’
‘Well! He’s quick off the mark! When did he get back from France?’
‘I don’t know. But Roger is concerned about his mother’s general health, her rheumatism in particular, and wants one of us to visit her. I told him that I thought you would prefer to do that and he was going to try to get a quick appointment with you. If he can’t I will go to see her.’
‘What was wrong with Tim seeing her?’ he said abruptly.
‘He prefers it to be someone that his mother knows.’
‘I suppose that is understandable,’ he admitted grudgingly, knowing that the last thing he wanted was for Laura to be socialising in any man’s company other than his own.
‘So you’ll let me out for an hour, will you?’
‘I said I would, didn’t I, Laura? And please don’t make me sound like your jailor.’
‘I was only teasing, but it will be nice to talk about old times with Roger.’
They left it at that, but his reluctance for her to resume an acquaintance with an old friend hadn’t escaped her, and she thought that if Jon didn’t want her, why should he be upset at the thought of her spending a short time with another man? He’d always liked Roger just as
much as she had. Next to her, Roger had been his closest friend.
Laura was back by half past nine and when Jon heard her coming up the stairs he breathed a sigh of relief. She had been as good as her word, he thought, but, then, Laura always was.
‘You didn’t have to rush,’ he told her, falsely casual.
‘I could have stayed longer, but Roger was all set for going into minute details of his wedding plans to a Frenchwoman who he intends to bring here to live, and as weddings are not my favourite subject at the moment, I promised to hear him out another time. But a word of warning. I think he may be going to ask you to be his best man.’
Jon was smiling his relief. So Roger wasn’t out to make a quick comeback with Laura, he was thinking. It had been nothing more than an old acquaintance wanting to rebuild a friendship, but it had been a warning. He was really in love for the first time in his life and was making a hash of it, and while he was dithering around, someone could come along and whisk Laura from right under his nose.
He wasn’t behaving in character. He was usually a man of action, but not so in this, and there were good reasons why. Two of them were fast asleep in their beds, and if Laura ever did consider marrying him, there would always be the unanswered question of whether she was doing it for them or him. The same idea had occurred to her, if what she’d said the previous night was correct.
Another reason was her independence. If he put a foot wrong when he tried to tell her he was in love with her, it could all go pear-shaped, and what he felt for her was too precious to risk spoiling.
But one thing he did know as they separated, each to their solitary beds, subject to her agreeing, he was going to rearrange their evening in Manchester for the coming Saturday and speak to Sarah at the stables about their plans for the children’s riding lessons.
They’d both been very patient as that had also been postponed while Liam hadn’t been well, and he knew that Laura wouldn’t want their disappointment to be dragged out.
Jon went to visit Roger’s mother at Mallard Hall, and when he saw her he understood her son’s anxiety.
Her movements were slow and painful and she leaned heavily on a stick, but there was nothing wrong with her mental processes. Bright grey eyes in a dried-up face recognised him immediately and she asked without any words of welcome, ‘What are you doing here, Jon Emmerson?’
‘Jon is here because I asked him to come, Mother,’ Roger intervened.
‘You won’t go to see him, so I’ve brought him to you.’
Narrow shoulders were stiffening and when she’d lowered herself painfully into the depths of an easy chair Avril Jameson said, ‘You’re wasting your time, Jon. All that ails me is old age and a lack of interest in life in general. You know I lost Alistair, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he said gravely. ‘I attended your husband when he had the heart attack, if you remember.’
‘Of course I remember,’ she told him with a trace of hauteur in her voice.
‘And so what do you want of me now?’
‘I want to check you over if that is all right with you. Your heart, your breathing, your mobility, and the rest. I would also like to do some blood tests.’
‘What for?’
‘Anaemia, calcium levels, rheumatoid arthritis, and anything else that might be making you feel so low, because there are lots of ways I can make your life easier and more pain-free if you will let me.’
‘You want to be feeling better for the wedding, don’t you?’ Roger coaxed.
‘Maybe,’ was the unenthusiastic reply. ‘Though with all the knocking and banging that’s going on upstairs, I can’t see much prospect of it.’
‘I’m getting married in the village church in a month’s time,’ Roger told Jon, ‘and am having the upstairs of this place made into an apartment for Monique and myself.
‘Mum never goes up there any more. She has a bedroom down here with an en suite bathroom, and the arrangement will mean that I can keep an eye on her without crowding her too much.’
When Jon had finished examining Avril he smiled. ‘Your heartbeat seems fine, Mrs Jameson. It seems regular enough, and your breathing isn’t too bad for someone of your age. Have you ever smoked?’ She shook her head. ‘I thought not. Your main problem is your lack of mobility and there are a few things we can do about that, such as a special diet for one thing, avoiding all the foods that will aggravate the rheumatism, and providing you with pain-relieving medication.
‘Normally I would ask you to come to the surgery for the nurses to take blood for testing, but under the circumstances I’m prepared to do it myself while I’m here, if that is all right with you.’
Avril smiled for the first time since he’d appeared. ‘I suppose it will have to be, and what’s this I hear about Laura Hewitt being back in the village and working at the practice? I haven’t heard of her in years.’
Neither had I, he thought and it has been my loss. ‘Yes. That is correct,’ he said. ‘Laura is a widow with a small son and she is back with us once more.’
‘Hmm. There have been a few surprises of late and not the least of them my son finding himself a wife. I hope Monique won’t be pining for the Seine and the bridges of Paris when she sees our old friend the Goyt.’ There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye that made Jon think that maybe Avril Jameson wasn’t as crotchety as she had at first appeared.
When he’d taken the blood and told her that he would be back with the results when he’d received them, Roger walked with him to his car. As Jon was about to drive off, he said, ‘I met Laura last night in the pub. Did she tell you?’
‘Yes. She asked me to keep an eye on Liam while she was out and when she came back she told me that you’re getting married.’
‘Hmm. I am. I’ve had a few relationships in my time, but when I met Monique I knew that this was it.’
I know the feeling Jon thought wryly, but in my case the love of my life has been under my nose for ever and I was too blind to see it.
‘So, do you think you could do me the honour of being my best man?’ Roger was asking, and Jon had to bring his thoughts back into line.
‘I’d be delighted.’
‘Great! There’ll be an invitation in the post in the next few days for you all—Laura, yourself and the children.’
‘Is the subject of weddings still taboo?’ Jon asked Laura when he got back to the surgery. ‘Or can I tell you that you were right about Roger wanting me to be his best man? He’s getting married in a month’s time and we’re all invited.’
‘And did you say you would oblige?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ve always got on well with Roger. He’s a decent guy, and concerned about his mother, who is a bit of a tartar these days compared to what she was like when we were kids. But I guess she’s in a lot of pain. I took blood for testing while I was there. Has the courier for pathology been yet? I’d like them to go in today’s collection if possible.’
‘No. He hasn’t been yet,’ she informed him, not taking him up on his comment about weddings, and not sure if she could face the thought of listening to someone else’s wedding vows when she would so love to be making her own to the dark-eyed doctor beside her, who had no idea how much she loved him.
Jon had asked Laura if she wanted him to book the meal again for the coming Saturday and she’d said yes, why not, as if she was easy either way.
Marjorie had confirmed once more that she was free to have the children for the night, and on Sunday morning they would go to the riding stables. So it was all going to plan, but a week late.
Sharon Smith, the hairdresser, had been told after a biopsy that the lump in her breast was benign and her relief was plain to see whenever Laura saw her. She’d made an appointment for Saturday morning with her, and also with the beautician who worked above the salon for a facial and manicure.
She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to present herself to Jon as someone very different from her other role, as his neighbour across the landing who he
saw first thing in the morning at her worst, or last thing at night when she was drained after the day’s demands of motherhood and health care.
But, she thought wryly, if she was going to take the plunge and bring her feelings out into the open, the least she could do was look her best. He wouldn’t want to hear what could turn out to be a hugely embarrassing declaration from a frump seated across the table from him.
At present she couldn’t think any further than that. What she was contemplating could spoil what they had. But it would achieve one thing. Make clear to him why she was behaving like she was. Not wanting to take favours from him, guarding her independence, yet eager to be with him. Sometimes happy and carefree, and at others remote and unyielding.
The results from Avril Jameson’s blood tests came back on Friday morning and when Jon went up to the hall to give Roger and his mother the pathology report he told them that they indicated rheumatoid arthritis.
‘I’m going to put you on anti-inflammatory medication, Mrs Jameson,’ he said. ‘Or we might try gold penicillinine, which is an anti-rheumatic drug, and for good measure some not too energetic physiotherapy. But we’ll see how the medication works first. I’m not promising a cure, but hopefully there should be an improvement in your quality of life.’
‘That’s good news, isn’t it, Mother?’ Roger said with overdone heartiness.
Avril found a smile from somewhere. ‘Yes, if it works. If you can make me supple enough to hold my grandchildren when they come I’ll be content,’ she told Jon.
From Roger came the protest, ‘Steady on, Mother! Let’s get the wedding over first.’
‘Not everyone does,’ was the reply, and Jon wondered if that was one for him.
It was usually the mother left holding the baby, but not in his case, and he thought, as he’d done many times before, if Abby had been Laura’s child she wouldn’t have left her under any circumstances. He’d seen the way she was with their children and knew she would be the same with any little ones they might have together. But in the uncertain situation in which they were living that seemed a vain hope.
A Single Dad at Heathermere Page 9