Country Midwife, Christmas Bride

He opened the back door of the cottage, went outside and herded the obedient cow towards the gap in the fence.

As Lizzie watched in complete mortification he stopped and looked down at his feet and she saw that Daisy had left a calling card. James had stepped in a cow pat.

With his expression giving nothing away, he continued herding the intruder towards the field from where it had come, and Lizzie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

What a ghastly beginning to her first day at the village practice, she was thinking. It was almost time to put in an appearance and she was only half-dressed, hadn’t had any breakfast, and her knight in shining armour was going to have to change his trousers, which were spattered around the bottoms, and clean up what looked like a pair of hand-made shoes.

At that moment the farmer appeared and apologised for his animal’s wanderings. ‘Daisy wouldn’t harm you,’ he said. ‘Will you forgive her for the intrusion on to your property if I mend your fence?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed weakly.

On receiving her agreement, he went to take charge of the cow and when James returned to the cottage she said awkwardly, ‘I’ll pay for the dry cleaning and any damage to your shoes.’

‘Forget it,’ he said easily. ‘That’s what country life is all about. I’m going to go and get changed and will be hoping that my breakfast hasn’t dried up in the oven. What about you? Have you eaten?’

‘Not yet, no,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘I’m so sorry for making such a fuss. The thought of being late on my first day at the clinic doesn’t bear thinking about, so I’m going to grab a slice of toast and then get dressed…and thank you for coming to my aid. I don’t usually freak out like that, I can assure you.’

‘I’m sure you don’t,’ he told her, ‘but even a harmless cow can seem menacing when close to. Bye for now, Lizzie,’ he said. He paused with his hand on the latch of the garden gate. ‘Make sure you have a proper breakfast, not just a piece of toast. There’s no rush. The mothers-to-be aren’t queuing up for your services yet, so no need for further panic.’

He’d been smiling as he’d said it, but as she went back inside Lizzie wondered just how much James had meant it. Had he seen the episode with the cow as a confidence crisis on her part? If he had, she would have to remind him that she was here to see babies safely into the world. The animal kingdom was someone else’s responsibility.

Lizzie ignored James’s advice not to skip breakfast and had just a glass of milk before quickly drying her hair and then putting it in a long plait that swung smoothly against her shoulders. It was hardly the height of fashion but was soon done and time was something she hadn’t got if she wasn’t going to be late at the clinic.

Uniform, tights and shoes were soon on, followed by a swift application of make-up, and she was on her way, carrying the case that went everywhere with her when on duty.

She would be hungry before the morning was over, she thought as she hurried along the main street, but it was an important day in her life and she was not going to be late for it.

Every time she thought about the cow at her window her face burned. The animal hadn’t got horns, she should have known it wasn’t a bull, but she would still have felt most uneasy at finding it there.

There were children on the street, all heading for the village school and the first day of term. Ahead of her she could see James’s twins skipping along beside the nanny and she wondered what she did for the rest of the day during term time once she’d seen them safely inside.

When James stepped out of the front door of Bracken House he saw her coming up the street with the brisk grace of a woman who was in charge of her life, and thought whimsically that there was no resemblance to the dishevelled person who’d begged him to come quickly and get rid of her unwelcome visitor earlier that morning.

This was the real Lizzie Carmichael, he thought, dressed in the standard blue uniform of her calling, with hair swept back into a plait of all things and sensible flat shoes on her feet that bore no resemblance to the ones that Polly had admired.

His daughter hadn’t been the only one who had noticed the wedding guest in pale blue elegance.

Though his interest had been only mild curiosity until she’d introduced herself as the person appointed by St Gabriel’s to be in charge of the new maternity clinic. Since then it seemed as if she was everywhere he turned.

‘Well done,’ he said in a low voice when she was near enough to hear him, ‘but you haven’t eaten, have you? You can’t have, there hasn’t been time.’

‘No. I’ve had a glass of milk, though.’

‘I see. So shall we go inside? I’m sure you must be eager to see where you’re going to be working. Once you’ve had a good look round and I’ve introduced you to the surgery staff I suggest you pop across to my place and Helen will make you a pot of tea and a bacon sandwich, or whatever you’re used to at this time of day. I think we can manage without you for half an hour or so.’

Lizzie could feel her colour rising. She wasn’t used to being looked after. He’d already done her one favour with regard to the cow. She was uncomfortably aware that he’d changed his suit, and that his shoes had got back their shine, both chores he could have done without on a Monday morning before he’d had his breakfast. And hadn’t there been just a hint of patronage in his last comment?

But she could hardly refuse the offer in the circumstances and so she said in the same polite tone as on the night before when she’d been invited into his home for a drink, ‘That is very kind. An offer I can’t refuse.’

He nodded. ‘That’s good, then. So shall we start the day? I told the receptionists last week not to make me any appointments for the first hour this morning so that I can be available to show you around, and once that’s done I’ll leave you to get acquainted with the new maternity clinic.

‘You will have your own receptionist. We have four at present, and one of those will be transferred so that your patients can go straight to maternity care without visiting the surgery, unless you decide they need to.

‘Although yours will be a separate unit, a communicating door has been made between the two places to save time and energy, but the only person you will be answerable to in the surgery will be me.’

Lizzie nodded, trying to force the morning’s embarrassing events from her mind. She was determined that from now on James would only see the calm, collected, professional Lizzie Carmichael, and nothing more.

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN the door swung open and James stepped back to let her precede him into the building Lizzie knew immediately that she was going to be happy there, not just in the pristine, well-appointed rooms with every facility for antenatal and postnatal care, but in Willowmere itself.

She had found the perfect combination in this pretty Cheshire village where outside late summer was starting to turn the colour of the leaves on the trees and inside was the place where she was going to revel in the role that she’d been asked to play.

There was a waiting room painted in cream, beige and gold, with a honey wool carpet to match. Plenty of comfortable chairs that were not too low for heavily pregnant mothers to rise up from were arranged in rows, and in a corner was a reception desk.

Through a door at the end was a consulting room where she would interview new patients and listen to the problems of those already registered with the clinic.

Next to it there was a room divided into cubicles where she, and James if necessary, would check on the progress of the babies and the general health of the mothers-to-be. It was equipped with scales, a medicine cupboard for on-the-spot medication if needed, and various other items that her practised eye had noted, such as comfy cotton gowns for examination time and disposable sheets, plus a pile of glossy magazines to leaf through while waiting. Through another door were hand washbasins and toilets.

‘So what’s the verdict?’ James asked when she’d observed everything without comment.

‘Wonderful!’ she exclaimed, eyes bright with enthusiasm. ‘It’s so relaxing and clean looking. Who were the brains behind all this?’

‘The hospital hired a firm to do the make-over, but Lady Derringham had the last word on the décor and positioning of the facilities. You will be meeting her on Friday at the official opening.

‘You might have noticed that there hasn’t been room to put in any kitchen space for your needs, but we have that kind of thing in the surgery and you will be welcome to use it whenever you want.’

He was smiling. ‘And now do you think you can drag yourself away while I introduce you to the people on the other side of the communicating door?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, and went to meet Ben Allardyce, a well-known paediatric surgeon, who was standing in for his wife, Georgina, the only female GP in the practice, while she was on maternity leave.

And then there was Gillian, one of the two practice nurses, holding the fort while Laurel was on her honeymoon, and Sarah Martin, a pretty, curvy girl and the youngest of the receptionists, who would be transferring to the new maternity centre.

Elaine Ferguson, the practice manager, came and shook hands and the good feeling that Lizzie had felt when she stepped into the place was still there.

Life without Richard and the child she’d been carrying would have been an empty thing if it hadn’t been for her job, she thought. Maybe here in Willowmere she might find a different kind of solace in friendly folk and delightful surroundings as everyone was making her most welcome.

The one who stood out amongst them the most, however, was the man who was now speaking in a low voice for her ears only. ‘It’s half past nine, my first patient is due any moment. I’m going to take you to Helen for a belated breakfast.’

Lizzie nodded with head averted, afraid to speak in case the tears that were threatening began to roll down her cheeks. She just wasn’t used to this, she thought unevenly. It would be easy to get to like it, and then what?

Loneliness had become a way of life and it was partly her own fault, but it had its advantages. By not ever getting close to anyone again she’d avoided any more pain. So was this beautiful Cheshire village going to make her see life differently? Did she want to be sidetracked into a kind of lifestyle she hadn’t bargained for?

As James’s middle-aged housekeeper plied her with eggs, bacon, hot buttered toast and a pot of tea Helen said chattily, ‘So, my dear, you’re the midwife who is coming to work in the new maternity clinic at the practice.’

‘Yes, that’s me,’ she said, smiling across at her.

‘James is highly delighted at the new arrangement,’ Helen informed her. ‘His life revolves around health care in the village. It comes second only to his love for his children and his sister. I kept house for his parents when he and Anna were young until I went to live in Canada to be with my daughter while her children were small, but now they’re grown up I’ve come back. I was homesick and James needed some help in the house, so here we all are.

‘Jess, their nanny, is also a classroom assistant during term time, which works well as she’s at school the same hours as the children and is available all the time during the holidays.

‘We leave James to it at the weekends to give him some quality time with Polly and Jolly. All those who love him would like to see him married again but he shows no inclination to put anyone in their mother’s place and seems happy enough. But I mustn’t go rambling on, though you’ll find out soon enough that he lost his wife in a car crash when the children were just a few weeks old.’

That was how she’d lost Richard, Lizzie thought. How weird that they should have both lost their partners in similar circumstances. Obviously all Willowmere would know what happened to James’s wife. It was that kind of place.

Not so with her situation. Most of the staff who’d been at St Gabriel’s when her own life had been torn apart had moved on. Any that remained had their own lives to lead, their own peaks and valleys to cope with, and that was how she’d wanted it to stay.

As she made her way back to the practice building, having thanked Helen most sincerely for taking away her hunger pangs, she avoided the surgery and went straight to the clinic. She was still trying to come to terms with what Helen had told her about James. How he was bringing up his children as a single father, and providing a high standard of health care for Willowmere at the same time.

That being so, it was to be expected that there wouldn’t be much opportunity for a life of his own and it could be one of the reasons why he’d never remarried. Though for most people who found themselves alone the need for someone to fill the gap outweighed every other consideration, but not in his case, it would seem, and neither was it so for her.

Her face was warming again at the memory of how she’d dragged him away from his breakfast that morning because of the placid Daisy’s appearance at her kitchen window.

Presumably he’d eaten when he’d got back, but she wouldn’t have been the only one who’d had to put a spurt on timewise, and then after all that he’d taken the trouble to arrange for Helen to cook breakfast for her.

Their lives were similar in some ways, she thought as she let herself into the clinic once more, but vastly different in others. Whatever his problems, James’s life sounded as if it was full and rewarding, except for the one big gap of a loving wife and mother, and if what his housekeeper had said was correct, those who cared about him would like to see the blank space filled.

But the length of time it remained empty was often an indication of the depth of the loss. It brought with it a steadfast loving faithfulness that was a barrier to any other relationships.

Memories of Richard were so clear and tender there was no way she wanted any other man to hold her close in the night or sit across the table from her at mealtimes. As for the baby she’d lost, there were moments when she envied a radiant mother as she placed her child in her arms, but it was also like balm to her soul every time she brought a newborn safely into the world.

Unlike the man in the surgery next door, her life was only half-full, but she’d learned to live with that, she always told herself when she was feeling low. Though was half a life better than none, she sometimes wondered.

It seemed that James lived by a different set of rules from hers. In the middle of his busy life he had found time to show her an impersonal sort of kindness that was heart-warming, and she was going to repay him by making his dream of a maternity clinic in the village an efficient reality.

She spent the rest of the morning unpacking deliveries of stationery and medical supplies, and at lunchtime went across to the Hollyhocks Tea Rooms for a quick bite. It was a luxury she knew she would probably have to forego when things got busy at the unit, but she had the next few days to settle in at her own pace before the grand opening on Friday, when as well as the Derringhams some of the bigwigs from St Gabriel’s would be there.

James appeared again just before his afternoon surgery was about to commence and said, ‘How’s it going? I thought we might have seen you at lunchtime. If you remember, I said that you’re welcome to join us whenever you feel the need.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she told him, ‘but I thought you might be feeling you’ve seen enough of me for one day.’

‘I’m not with you,’ he said, and then laughed. ‘Ah, you mean Daisy. Don’t give it another thought. My mother was born and bred in the countryside but she was nervous if they came too near, and she would never go within a mile of a pig sty.’

He was making it up as he went along because he didn’t want this newcomer with hair in a long golden plait and a clear violet gaze to have any reason to regret having moved to the beautiful village where he’d been born.

She’d positively sparkled when she’d seen the new clinic for the first time, but for the rest of it she seemed rather subdued and he wondered what went on in her life.

Yet did that matter? If Lizzie was as good as she was said to be, he couldn’t ask for more and with that in mind he said, ‘Would you be prepared to come back this evening for a couple of hours while I put you in the picture regarding our present antenatal arrangements and pass on to you the medical notes of the expectant mothers at presently under our care, who will be transferred from the surgery to the new clinic?

‘As you know, we are a doctor and nurse short at the moment, with David and Laurel on honeymoon, which means that I have no spare time during the day,’ he explained, ‘otherwise I wouldn’t break into your evening. We could have met at my place or yours, I suppose, but as a matter of protocol I wouldn’t want patients’ records to leave the surgery.’

‘I don’t mind in the least,’ she said immediately. ‘I have plenty of time on my hands. I’ve been going for a stroll and then having an early night, so I’m not going to be missing anything.’

It was there again, he thought. A solitariness that was so different from his own life. He was surrounded by people he cared for, and who cared for him.

If time for himself was hard to come by, so what? The children were happy and healthy, and the pain of losing Julie was lessening as the years went by, yet it would never go away completely because she wasn’t going to see her children grow up, and that was always what hurt the most.

Lizzie was waiting for him to finish what he’d started and bringing his mind back to the present he said, ‘Would eight o’clock suit you? The children will be asleep by then. I don’t think they’ll need much persuasion as the first day of a new school year is always exhausting for everyone concerned, and Helen is there to keep an eye on them.’

He was checking the time. The waiting room was filling up.

‘Yes, eight o’clock will be fine,’ she told him.

‘Right, I’ll see you, then,’ he said briskly, and off he went, hoping that the pride of St Gabriel’s maternity services wasn’t thinking that he was overdoing the getting-to-know-you routine.

As Lizzie walked home in the late afternoon she was wishing that she hadn’t been quite so eager to fall in with James’s suggestion that they meet again that evening. Anything to do with the new clinic was of paramount importance to her, but she felt as if she needed to get her breath back after such an eventful day of ups and downs, the downs issuing from her continuing mortification over the cow episode, and the ups a deep satisfaction with the arrangements of the clinic. Not to mention what had happened when she’d gone to the Hollyhocks Tea Rooms for her lunch.

Emma, the usually rosy-cheeked wife of the partnership who owned the place, had said hesitantly, ‘Is it you that’s going to be in charge of the new baby clinic that’s opening on Friday?’

‘Yes, it’s me,’ Lizzie replied, wondering what was coming next.

‘I think I’m pregnant,’ Emma had said. ‘I’ve done a test that I bought from the chemist and it was positive. So can I come to see you?’

‘Of course,’ she’d said, smiling at her across the counter. ‘That’s what I’m going to be there for. Is it your first baby?’

‘Yes, and we just can’t believe it. We’ve been married a long time and had almost given up hope.’

‘So how about coming in on Friday after the opening and being my first patient?’

‘I’d love to be that! Simon is over the moon. He’s been getting all the recipes mixed up this morning, so watch out for salt instead of sugar in your apple crumble,’ she’d warned laughingly.

On the whole the ups had far outweighed the downs and she wanted it to stay that way, but there had been a slight lift of the eyebrow when she’d impulsively told James that she had plenty of time on her hands, as if he found it hard to believe that anyone could be in that position, and the last thing she wanted was to arouse his curiosity.

She was getting on with her life the best way she knew how, and providing a useful service to the community took away some of the loneliness that rightly or wrongly she didn’t confide to anyone.

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.’