Country Midwife, Christmas Bride

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But she’d committed herself to returning to the clinic that evening and when she gave her word about anything, she kept it.

The children were full of their first day at school when James came in from the surgery that evening, or rather Pollyanna was. Jolyon was his usual self and his contribution to the discussion was that their new teacher had said he had a funny name.

‘She said unusual, not funny,’ Pollyanna corrected him, ‘and that she thought it was very nice.’

‘It means the same,’ he protested, ignoring the last bit, ‘and why isn’t any other kid called the same as me, Daddy? Why am I not called Sam or Tom?’

Jess had given them their evening meal and was standing in the doorway of the dining room ready to leave, but she paused and said in a low voice, ‘The teacher was just trying to be nice, but as we know Jolly has a mind of his own.’

James nodded and, taking Jolyon to one side, said to him, ‘There was a boy in my class at school who didn’t like his name because he was the only one who had it, but as he grew older he began to change his mind because everyone was envious that he had such a super name and wished that theirs wasn’t Sam or Tom.’

‘What was he called?’ Polly chipped in.

‘His name sounded very much like yours, Jolyon, but not quite. He was called Joel.’

Apparently satisfied with the explanation, Jolyon nodded his small blond head and ran off to play, and as he ate his solitary meal James was smiling at the difference in his children. Polly accepted everything as it came her way, but not so her brother—he had to know the whys and wherefores before he was happy.

When he arrived at the new clinic there was no sign of Lizzie and he thought that maybe she wasn’t the eager beaver that she’d seemed to be earlier, but when he glanced across the road in the dusk to where the ancient village church stood he saw a flash of colour amongst the gravestones that surrounded it and seconds later she was coming towards him through the lychgate.

‘There are some really old graves in the churchyard, aren’t there?’ she commented, and wondered why a shadow passed over his face. But, of course, maybe his wife’s was one of the newer ones, she thought, although she hadn’t seen it if it was. So less said about that the better. Changing the subject, she asked politely, ‘Have the children enjoyed their first day back at school?’

‘Er…up to a point in Jolyon’s case,’ he said wryly. ‘Pollyanna was her usual happy self, but her brother is not so easily pleased. They had a new teacher who apparently commented on his name in what appears to have been the nicest possible way, but he took it to mean that she didn’t like it. He and I had a little chat and it was sorted.’

She was smiling. ‘It is a fact that young children want to be the same as their friends and don’t want to be different, but if they have an unusual name, they often come to like it as they get older. My name isn’t unusual but I have had to answer to many forms of it over the years, such as Beth, Liz, Bet and Lizzie, which is the one that has stuck, though in truth the one I like best is Elizabeth, my given name.’

‘What do your family call you?’

‘I have no family, but when I did have they called me Lizzie.’

‘You have no family at all?’ he questioned in amazed disbelief, so much aware of his own blessings he felt guilty.

‘No,’ she said steadily, and her tone told him that was the end of the discussion, as did the fact that she was observing the pile of patients records on the reception desk in the waiting room and settling herself on one of the chairs that were placed in neat rows across the room.

As he came to sit beside her Lizzie said, ‘I think the seating arrangements in here have too much uniformity. I want it to be that while the mothers-to-be are waiting their turn they can chat to each other easily, with the chairs scattered around the room. So if it’s all right with you, I’m going to rearrange them. It is very important for women to be able to share their fears and excitement, and their problems, with each other, especially if they are first-time patients taking what can be a scary step into the unknown.’

‘It’s fine by me,’ he told her. ‘You are the one who is going to be in charge of this place. My function will be to be there if you need me. I would only interfere if I thought it absolutely necessary, and with your record of excellence at St Gabriel’s having preceded you, I can’t see that ever happening.

‘But, Lizzie, don’t let this place take over your life completely,’ he continued, and couldn’t believe what he was saying when the fates had sent to Willowmere someone as dedicated to health care as the woman sitting beside him. ‘There are lots of things to do in the village, people to get to know, beautiful places to explore, as well as looking after the pregnant women in our midst.

‘So why don’t I take you to Willowmere’s only pub, The Pheasant, when we’ve finished here? It will give you the opportunity to socialise a little.’

It was there again, Lizzie was thinking. He was picking up on the emptiness of her life and she didn’t want him to be concerned about her. For one thing, she hardly knew the man, and for another, apart from during working hours when they would have to be in contact, she wanted to be left to get on with her life, such as it was.

But James was putting himself out to make her feel welcome when he must have plenty of other things to do in his busy life, and it would seem ungrateful to refuse his suggestion, so she said, ‘Yes, if you’re sure that you have the time.’

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ he said calmly, and, passing her the first lot of patients’ notes, began to explain who they were and what they would be expecting from her.

When they’d finished going through them Lizzie said, ‘It would seem that there will shortly be another name to add to these.’

‘I’m not with you,’ he commented.

‘I went to the café across the road at lunchtime and Emma asked for an appointment as she’s done the pregnancy test from the chemist and it showed positive. So we’ve arranged for her to be the first patient at the clinic after the opening on Friday.’

‘Emma pregnant!’ he exclaimed. ‘Wonderful! She and Simon have wanted to start a family for a long time. She had a miscarriage when they were first married and there has been nothing since.’

‘So I will have to take great care of her, won’t I?’

‘Yes, you will,’ he agreed, ‘and now am I going to take you for that drink?’

‘Er…won’t your housekeeper wonder where you’ve got to?’ she said with an unmistakable lack of enthusiasm, and he wanted to laugh. He could think of two or three unattached female members of the community, and one who was already in a relationship, who would have jumped at the idea, but not so this one, it seemed.

‘No, not at all,’ he assured her perversely. ‘But to put your mind at rest, I’ll call at the house before we go and let her know where I will be if she needs me.’ And Lizzie had to go along with that.

The Pheasant was crowded and when they walked in various people greeted James and observed his companion with curiosity, which was satisfied somewhat as he introduced her as the new community midwife who was joining him for a drink to celebrate the opening of the new clinic.

By the time they’d found a couple of seats and James had fought his way to the bar and back, Lizzie was feeling more relaxed, grateful for the way he had introduced her into the socialising throng without causing her embarrassment.

At the same time she was telling herself if she was going to fit into the life of the village she was going to have to start living again, and after three years of shutting herself away from everything but her job, it was not going to be easy.

James was observing her expression and almost as if he’d read her mind he said, ‘That wasn’t so bad after all, was it? Everyone was listening when I introduced you, so now they all know who you are.’

‘If you say so,’ she agreed. ‘You know the people here better than I do. Have you always lived in Willowmere?’

‘Yes. My father was in charge of the practice before me, but after my mother died he began to fail and my sister, Anna, gave up all her plans for the future and came home from university to help me during a very difficult time. Thankfully her life is now back on course again.’

He was speaking about his family in the hope that she would mention the absence of hers, but the ploy wasn’t working. Lizzie wore a wedding ring, he’d noticed, but there was no husband around.

Maybe she was divorced and that was the reason for her reticence, yet a marriage break-up seemed as nothing to some people, but it had to be a daunting experience in many ways.

He had his children and his sister in his life, and if what she’d said was true, the woman sitting opposite had no one. Small wonder that she wasn’t the life and soul of the party, but he needed to bear in mind that she’d only arrived in Willowmere a few days ago.

It was dark when they left The Pheasant with no moon above and James said, ‘I’m going to walk you home, Lizzie, and will want to see you safely inside before I leave you.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she protested.

‘Yes, I’m sure you will, but nevertheless that is what I’m going to do.’

‘All right, then…and thanks,’ she said awkwardly without any social grace.

They walked in silence, past the shops all shuttered for the night, then skirted the single-storey village school built from the familiar limestone, and then the peace garden came in to sight, with the cottage across the way.

He watched in silence as she unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold and when she turned to face him, said, ‘Goodnight, Lizzie. Make sure you lock up when I’ve gone.’

She nodded mutely and watched until he disappeared from sight, then did as he’d said, and when that was done she sat on the bottom step of the stairs and wept because a stranger’s concern was breaking down her defences.

From what she’d seen of James so far he seemed to be that kind of person, considerate and caring towards everyone, herself included as the latest addition to the health care of his beloved village, and she didn’t want it to be like that. She didn’t want to have feelings in the half of her life that was empty, because with feelings came weakness and she needed to be strong to face each day.

As he walked home, James was telling himself that he had enough responsibilities in his life without attempting to take on the emotional burden that Lizzie obviously wanted to keep private. She was going to be the right one for the job and that was all that mattered.

It was Friday afternoon and Lady Derringham was about to cut the tape that had been placed across the entrance to the new maternity clinic in front of those assembled for the occasion, which included her husband, the chairman of the primary care trust for the area, dignitaries from St Gabriel’s, and Lizzie and James.

Lizzie could see Emma from the tea rooms at the front of the crowd that had gathered to watch the opening ceremony, and she smiled. Emma had been to see James and her booking-in appointment was arranged for that day.

Shortly she would have her photograph taken as the first patient to attend the clinic. It would be open for business and Lizzie’s feeling of being on the edge of things would disappear.

James was observing her and noting that today she was well and truly in her midwife mode, immaculate in the blue uniform of her calling, hair in the golden plait and eyes bright with the significance of the moment.

As his glance met hers he decided that the other side of her personality that had seemed so solitary and withdrawn must have been a figment of his imagination. She was calm, confident, unfazed by the ceremonial aspect of the gathering…and content.

The scissors had snipped, the tape was cut, and her ladyship was saying, ‘I now declare the Derringham Maternity Clinic well and truly open.’ And as she stepped inside they all trooped in after her.

As James came to stand beside Lizzie he said, ‘You are happy today, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’she replied. ‘More than I’ve been in a long time.’

He nodded. ‘That’s good.’

CHAPTER THREE

THE crowd had gone, the officials from St Gabriel’s had driven off in their cars. Only Lord and Lady Derringham remained and Lizzie was discovering that Olivia Derringham’s interest in the clinic was not going to be a passing thing.

As the person who was going to be in charge she had been expressing her appreciation of the facilities that had been provided and the uplifting design of the place and Olivia said, ‘If you think it would be all right, I’d like to volunteer to come in for a couple of mornings each week to give what assistance I can, even if it is only to make tea, help out the receptionist and perhaps settle the patients in the cubicles as they wait to be seen.’

‘That’s a very kind offer,’ Lizzie told her, slightly taken aback. ‘I’ll speak with James, but I’m sure it would be fine. Most of the time I will be on my own, except for the receptionist who is being transferred from the surgery, and I’m presuming that it will be quite busy, with expectant mothers from surrounding villages transferring to this clinic as well as those from Willowmere. I’ve been told that extra staff will be brought in if needed, but the hospital trust is waiting to see what the workload turns out to be first. So I would much appreciate help from someone like yourself.’

Olivia Derringham nodded and went on to say, ‘I suppose you know that we have donated the clinic as our way of thanking two members of the village practice who I believe are on honeymoon at the moment. I would have liked them to be here, as what they did for our son—you know he had a nasty fall while on a sponsored walk that they were also taking part in—was something that my husband and I won’t forget. But when they made their wedding plans they had no idea that the clinic would be finished so soon and urged us to go ahead with the opening rather than there be any delay, so here we are, and you’ll let me know about helping out then?’

‘Certainly. Thank you for your kind offer of support, Lady Derringham.’

‘Lizzie, the name is Olivia. I was working in a burger bar when I met His Lordship, and now I need to remind my husband, who is deep in conversation with Dr Bartlett, that we need to be home in time for nursery tea.’

‘You look somewhat stunned,’ James commented when they’d gone. ‘What gives?’

‘I don’t know if you would agree to this, James, but Her Ladyship has offered to help in the clinic for a couple of mornings each week.’

He frowned. ‘But she isn’t trained!’

‘Not doing midwifery. She’s volunteered her time to help out in Reception where needed, make tea and coffee, and make sure the patients are comfortable. In other words, she’s offering to be a general dogsbody.’

‘Amazing!’

She laughed. ‘She has no airs and graces. They met in a burger bar, of all places. She worked there. Don’t you think it’s rather romantic? She is a very nice woman. I’m sure we’d get on well.’

‘Yes, I’m sure you would,’ he agreed. ‘Well, let me look into this and I’ll let you know shortly.’ Lizzie smiled and he thought how she looked bright-eyed and happy now, but he knew that no matter how he tried to tell himself otherwise, somewhere not too far away was the other Lizzie, subdued and wanting to be left alone. But as he’d told himself several times since they’d met, that was her affair.

‘Until their son’s accident and David and Laurel’s involvement in it, we only saw the Derringhams rarely,’ he explained. ‘This is a new dimension her wanting to help in the clinic, and it is very commendable.’

‘Where do they live?’

‘At Kestrel Court, a large place on the way to the moors. His Lordship owns an estate up there, with grouse shooting and the like. Dennis Quarmby, one of my patients, is his gamekeeper, and the husband of Gillian, the practice nurse, is his estate manager.’ He checked his watch. ‘And now I need to be going. I’ve left Ben Allardyce coping with the late surgery on his own, which is a bit much, but fortunately he doesn’t seem to mind. What are you going to do now the ceremony is over? Wait for Emma to appear?’

‘Yes, I’m expecting her at any moment. She was with those watching and then the photographer approached her. She will know that I’m free now, and then after I’ve tidied up I think I’ll call it a day.’

He was on the point of departure. ‘Yes, do that. Have a nice weekend, Lizzie.’ Hoping that she might pleasantly surprise him, he added, ‘What do you usually do?’

‘A big shop on Saturdays and maybe take in a film. On Sundays I do my laundry and tidy up wherever I’m living at the time.’

He wondered what she meant by ‘living at the time’, but didn’t comment. Had she come from a series of bedsits? But he’d asked enough questions. Any more could be seen as intrusive and as it appeared that she wasn’t interested in how he spent his weekends or, if she was, she clearly wasn’t going to ask, he said goodbye and returned to his patients.

With Emma sitting opposite her, Lizzie was discovering that she was thirty-two years old and, according to the date of her last period, was now eight weeks pregnant.