Summer Seaside Wedding

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When Amelie had told him that she was all right, it had been partly to reassure him and also because his kindness and concern on her behalf had helped to turn what could have been a ghastly day into a bearable one, and now she was determined that she wasn’t going to lie sleepless and fretting about what might have been.

Antoine Lamont had been a junior doctor at the same hospital as herself. When he’d started paying attention to her she’d thought that the quiet, low-key guy, who had often been on the same shift as herself, had seen her as the right kind for him because she was as average as he was.

Gradually they’d drifted into an engagement with the promise of a white wedding on the very day she’d arrived in Devon with her heart set on a new life far away from the hurts of the previous one.

Her surmise that Antoine had chosen her because she had been the least demanding and overpowering of some of the women he’d known had been shattered when she’d called at his apartment unexpectedly one night in the hospital grounds and found him in bed with one of the nurses, a brassy, auburn-haired creature who was anything but average when it came to looks and curves.

It had been the end of her dream of contentment with a man she could love and trust and the beginning of pain and loneliness because of the deceit of it.

He’d tried to make amends, pleading that it had just been a one-off with the nurse, but she hadn’t wanted to hear his pleas and subsequently Antoine and the girl he’d been in bed with had left the hospital together, leaving her to face the pitying looks of others as best she could.

Yet deep down Amelie thought she might have had a lucky escape and accepted that maybe she’d been more in love with the idea of getting married than with the man in question. But as she lay beneath the covers in the master bedroom of the big house that she was going to be rattling around in, she knew that the hurt of rejection had still been there when she’d seen the bride arriving at the church for her wedding that day, and it had been the same man who had met her at the airport who’d helped her to cope with it.

So far Leo had only seen her at her worst. On Monday morning she intended that he was going to see her at her best, with the ups and downs of her arrival in Bluebell cove blotted out.

If there was one thing that she never wanted to appear as, it was needy. With her parents always at the other side of the world, she’d had to fend for herself since her early teens and maybe that was why Antoine had seemed like a calm oasis in her often chaotic life, but he’d turned out to be just the opposite, and with that thought in mind she turned her head into the pillow and slept.

Sunday was uneventful except for a visit from the Balfours, Harry and Phoebe, with their toddler, Marcus. The senior partner asked if she was happy with her living arrangements and said to let him know if she had any problems with regard to that or anything else.

‘I’m aware that you’ve already met Leo,’ he said, ‘and the rest of the staff will be looking forward to meeting you on Monday morning, Amelie.’

‘Yes, I’ve met Dr Fenchurch,’ she replied. ‘I feel I may have interrupted his weekend as I seemed to be everywhere he was.’ She wondered if the man in question had told his partner at the practice about her unsuccessful attempt at matrimony.

She hoped not, though she hadn’t asked him to keep it to himself, but if he had respected her privacy it would be a stick to measure him by and she was already intrigued by him.

The Balfours didn’t stay long, but it was time enough for her to discover a couple of things about them: one, that they were deeply in love and both adored the child; and, two, that she liked them and hoped that Dr Balfour would be as pleasant to work for at the practice as he was outside it.

Monday morning saw Amelie poised and ready for action, dressed in a smart white blouse, short black skirt, and with her smooth ebony hair straight and shining around a face that was alight with anticipation.

She’d made up carefully, paying special attention to her eyes, which she felt were the best feature of a nondescript face, and when she stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom she felt that she’d done her best with what nature had given her because there was nothing wrong with her bone structure and the flesh on it, yet when she thought about a certain brassy red-headed nurse with breasts like balloons she did have her doubts.

Leo was emerging out of the private entrance to the apartments as she appeared on the practice forecourt and strode purposefully towards him, carrying a leather briefcase. She looked different again, dressed smartly as she was, from the dishevelled woman at the airport and the bikini-clad swimmer on the beach.

‘Good morning, Dr Fenchurch,’ she said as he fell into step beside her. ‘It has come. The day I am to be part of your medical centre.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ he replied as he held open the main door of the surgery for her to go through. ‘I hope you won’t be disappointed in us.’

She smiled up at him. ‘It is more that it should be me who does not disappoint you and Dr Balfour. When you met me at the airport it was what I saw in your expression…disappointment.’

Surely it hadn’t been so obvious? he thought. It had been because he’d picked out the wrong woman to be her that the difference had seemed so great.

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he said, ‘It was very rude of me if that was how I appeared, and you are certainly proving me wrong so far. I hope that your first day is a good one, Amelie. Harry is already here and waiting to see you in his consulting room.’

‘They came to see me yesterday. Dr Balfour and his family were most kind. I wondered if perhaps you had told them about my cancelled wedding.’

For the first time since she’d met him she saw Leo’s pleasant manner chill as he told her, ‘Certainly not! If Harry and Phoebe were kind, it’s only because that is what they’re like. I wouldn’t dream of discussing what you told me on Saturday with anyone. Your private life is yours alone.’ And with the coolness still there he pointed to the door nearest to them, said, ‘That’s Harry’s room,’ and disappeared down the corridor in front of them where all the activity seemed to be taking place.

She’d unintentionally insulted him, Amelie thought as she tapped on the door of the senior partner’s room. Suddenly the morning wasn’t so exciting and challenging. She was just a temp from across the Channel, a bride-to-be who’d ended up on the outside of things.

Somehow she managed to put on a good face for the head of the practice and smiled her pleasure when he told her that she was being provided with a hire car that would be available the next day.

‘You’ll be in the room next to Leo at the other end of the passage,’ he told her, ‘and for a time will do the home visits with him until you are familiar with the area.’ He shook her hand. ‘Welcome aboard, Dr Benoir. I hope you enjoy your time with us.’ And that was that.

His phone was ringing so she left him to it and went to introduce herself to the receptionist at the desk opposite, who in turn took her to meet the rest of the staff, who were gathered in the kitchen for what she was to discover was a daily ritual—a mug of tea before surgery commenced.

The first thing she saw was that Leo wasn’t there and wondered if he was still smarting from what she’d said earlier. On her part it had just been innocent curiosity, yet she could understand his annoyance at the inference that he might have repeated what she’d told him to others.

But there was no more time to dwell on that. There were hands to shake, names to remember, and by the time the introductions were over she was feeling more comfortable.

Amongst those present were the two practice nurses, Lucy the elderly one, and Maria, young, pretty and the daughter of the beach lifeguard.

The district nurse, Bethany, only recently appointed, was there too, as well as the cleaner, a pleasant woman who came early and finished early in time to get her children off to school.

As she drank the tea Amelie was still wondering where Leo was and when she moved nearer to the open kitchen door she could hear his voice coming from Dr Balfour’s room and he didn’t sound happy.

He’d gone outside to get something out of his car and on returning had found that the senior partner had left Amelie to introduce herself to the staff, instead of doing it himself, and his frown had deepened when Harry had said laughingly, ‘She wandered off while I was on the phone. Don’t fuss. I’ve told her she’s getting the cherry on the cake.’

‘And what might that be?’ he’d gritted.

‘Doing the house calls with you, of course.’

‘Really. And how exciting is that not going to be… for her?’

She’d heard everything that was being said except the last two words because Leo had lowered his voice. If she’d felt she’d upset him before, it was twice as bad now. He obviously had no desire to be lumbered with her on his house calls.

He joined them all in the kitchen seconds later and her glance raked his face for signs of how he was feeling now. She was surprised when he had a smile for her and asked, ‘Are you all right, Amelie?’

‘Yes. I’m fine,’ she told him, relieved to see that he was back to his normal manner. ‘I have met all the staff, except the manager of the practice, and someone said she will be along shortly.’

‘That’s Janet. She doesn’t start until nine o’clock, but often works later than we do in the evenings. Bethany, the new district nurse, is her daughter.

‘They’re a good lot. Don’t hesitate to ask any of them if you have any problems. Surgery will be starting in a few moments so let me show you where you will be providing health care for the folk in Bluebell Cove.’

‘Are you still angry with me?’ she asked in a low voice as he opened the door of the smallest consulting room in the practice.

‘No, of course not. It was just you thinking I might have discussed your private life with Harry or anyone else that threw me off balance for a moment.’

He was beginning to wish they weren’t having this conversation, didn’t want to get any closer to this young French doctor who had butted into his weekend and now wanted to see into his thoughts. He’d actually fallen out with Harry over her and that was a first. They usually got on well.

A change of subject was called for and as the surgery was due to open its doors in a matter of minutes, what better way than to explain to her what was going to be required of her on her first morning?

‘Harry and I have picked out a few appointments from today’s list for you to deal with,’ he explained. ‘They are mostly women and children. Since Francine left to go back to her homeland we haven’t had a woman doctor on the staff, so you can see the advantages of having you here for our female patients, young and old.

‘If anything occurs that you haven’t dealt with before, Harry and I are here for help and advice. So good luck on your first morning. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare to meet my own patients. After surgery is finished we’ll have a coffee and then it will be time for the home visits. You will be able to see a lot more of Bluebell Cove while we’re out in the district as the area that the practice covers is both coast and country.’

With that he disappeared into the room next to hers and Amelie was left with the feeling that he was putting up with her on sufferance. What he’d said to Dr Balfour with regard to there being no pleasure in taking her with him on his rounds indicated that, and also there’d been the darkening of his brow when she’d asked him if he’d told the other man about her non-wedding.

He’d been all right about it afterwards, but there were signs that Leo was finding her heavy going, so a low profile was called for.

Her first patients were a harassed mother with a tearful four-year-old who was protesting loudly that she didn’t want to see the doctor man. Both were surprised to see that the ‘doctor man’ was a smiling young member of their own sex who had a way with children, having worked in the paediatric wards of a French hospital.

Within seconds the child had stopped crying and the mother was calming down as she explained why they were there. ‘Tiffany has an inflamed throat,’ she said, ‘and is very fretful. She won’t eat and had a raised temperature during the night. It seems normal enough now, but I still felt she should see a doctor.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Amelie agreed. ‘First I must look down the throat to check the degree of the inflammation.’ Turning to the small patient, she said gently, ‘Will you open your mouth for me, Tiffany, so that I can shine a light inside it?’

Not too keen on the idea, Tiffany clung to her mother and at her most persuasive Amelie said, ‘Just one little peep, that is all. Can you do that for me?’

Reassured, the child nodded and opened her mouth and when, as promised, Amelie did a quick examination of her throat she saw there was infection around the tonsils.

‘Has Tiffany had an inflamed throat before?’ she asked.

Her mother shook her head. ‘No, never.’

‘Then let us see what a few days’ rest and some paracetemol will do. They will help to relieve the soreness and then Tiffany will be more likely to want to eat. Ice cream is good for an inflamed throat too. If you should see pus on the tonsils, send for one of us immediately.

‘Her temperature is normal at present,’ she announced when she’d checked it, ‘but may rise again in the night so be prepared.’ She turned to the child. ‘You have been a very brave little girl, Tiffany, and you can have some ice cream when you get home.’

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ her mother said as they were leaving. ‘Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.’

Amelie’s wide smile embraced them both. ‘Yes, I am here from France for a while and am already in love with your village.’

‘I have a woman’s problem that I’ve wanted to discuss with someone of my own sex, so you might be seeing me again,’ Tiffany’s mother said.

‘That will be fine whenever you are ready,’ Amelie told her, ‘and be sure to bring Tiffany back to the surgery if the inflammation persists.’

An expensively dressed elderly woman with an irregular heartbeat came next and was immediately dubious when she saw a fresh face behind the desk and a young one at that.

‘I was expecting to see Dr Balfour,’ she said haughtily. ‘Are you fully qualified?’

‘Yes, I am,’ Amelie told her pleasantly. ‘I have a degree and have been employed in a French hospital for the last two years. I am here to see how general practice works in the UK. So would you oblige me by unbuttoning your cardigan, Mrs…er…’ a quick glance at her notes ‘…Arbuthnot, as any kind of change in the heartbeat needs immediate attention.’

‘Yes, it is a little fast this morning,’ she told the patient when she’d listened to it intently. ‘Has it happened before?’

‘On and off, but not as severe as this,’ was the reply.

‘And you have seen Dr Balfour on those occasions? There is no mention of it in your records.’

‘No. When it has happened before I’ve ignored it and it has gradually gone away.’

‘But not today?’

‘No. Not today.’

‘Then an ECG is called for. If you will accompany me to the nurses’ room it will be done, and whatever the feedback we will find out what, if anything, is wrong with your heart.’

As Esther Arbuthnot got slowly to her feet she said grudgingly, ‘They say that a new broom sweeps clean, so maybe being passed to you for my consultation isn’t such a bad idea after all. What is your name?’

‘Amelie Benoir,’ she said as she led the elderly woman towards the ECG facility, where Lucy would perform the test.

The speed with which the results came through had Esther Arbuthnot in a state of amazement that turned to alarm when she was told that there could be a problem with one of the valves of her heart and that there had been evidence of a minor heart attack some time in the past.

‘We need to refer you to a cardiologist for further tests,’ Amelie told her gently as she observed how the patient’s bumptiousness was disappearing fast, yet not so fast that she wasn’t already planning ahead.

‘There is a top heart surgeon in Bluebell Cove,’ Esther informed Amelie. ‘His name is Lucas Devereux and he has a private clinic that he runs from his home.’

‘He’s the consultant I want to see. I can well afford it. He is married to Barbara Balfour’s daughter Jenna, who was a practice nurse here until they had their first child. So if you would arrange for me to see him as quickly as possible, I would be obliged.’

‘Yes, of course,’ she assured her, ‘and in the meantime no excessive exertion. Just take it quietly and rest whenever possible. I will be in touch as soon as I have an appointment for you.’

When she’d gone Amelie wondered how many Balfours there were in Bluebell Cove. They had to be related to Harry Balfour, the head of the practice, in some way. At the first opportunity that arose she would ask Leo who this Barbara Balfour was.

CHAPTER THREE

AMELIE’S first morning at the surgery was over and as she waited for Leo’s much longer list of patients to come and go before they set out on the home visits she was thinking how much she’d enjoyed her first taste of general practice.

She’d coped with the patients that had been passed to her by the other two doctors without having to consult either of them, and when Leo finally appeared and asked, ‘So how was it?’ she had a smile for him.

But there was uncertainty behind it and he thought she was unsure of him, still aware that he hadn’t liked being questioned as to whether he’d passed on details of her private life to Harry. But she was not to know that though some saw him as lightweight, he cherished his integrity and admired that of others.

‘I enjoyed it immensely,’ she told him. ‘I liked the one-to-oneness of it. In a hospital situation there are sometimes too many fingers in the pie.’

‘So, are you ready for an interesting couple of hours visiting the sick and seeing the sights of Bluebell Cove when we’ve had a coffee?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said obediently, and it was there again, a withdrawal of the unaffected easiness that she’d displayed when in his company previously.

Yet as he pulled out onto the coast road she was the first to speak, and it was to ask if Dr Balfour had relations living in Bluebell Cove. She went on to explain that a patient had mentioned someone called Barbara Balfour.

‘Yes, he has indeed,’ he replied. ‘Harry was brought up in this place and when he got his degree came to work at the practice as a junior doctor like you. At that time his aunt, Barbara Balfour, was in charge of the practice and I’m told was a force to be reckoned with, but she had to retire due to ill health. She and her husband live in Four Winds, the large house on the headland.

‘Barbara was instrumental in persuading Harry to come back to Bluebell Cove after losing his wife in an accident, and also helped Ethan Lomax with his problems at the same time. The lady in question is a household name here and revered by all who know her, but she is also something of a tartar, even though she isn’t in charge any more.’

‘And it is her daughter who is married to the heart surgeon?’

‘Yes, she was Jenna Balfour before she married Lucas Devereux. So now you can place us all in our slots,’ he said whimsically.

‘All except you, Dr Fenchurch. You don’t seem to have one. All the others appear to have roots in Bluebell Cove but not you. Where do you come from?’

‘The north-west. I’m from Manchester.’

‘So you are a long way from home.’

‘Yes, but not as far from home as you are, though you seem contented enough.’

She shook her head. ‘Not always, I’m afraid. Yet I know I’m going to be happy here, I can feel it inside. Bluebell Cove is so beautiful, how could I not be?’

He gave her a quick sideways glance and thought how different she was from other women he’d known. She had no airs and graces. She was just herself, an enthusiastic young doctor with, from the sound of it, parents who had put their careers before their daughter. Had they been around when in the not so distant past she had suffered heartbreak at the hands of some two-timing upstart?