Читать книгу A Summer Wedding At Willowmere - Abigail Gordon - Страница 8

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CHAPTER TWO

WHEN Laurel awoke the next morning she found herself looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling dappled by a summer sun and for the first few seconds couldn’t think where she was, but not for long.

She was in Elaine’s quiet backwater, she thought, with birdsong the only sound breaking the silence. Recalling how she’d asked her aunt what they did for fun in Willowmere, she wondered why she’d brought up the subject. That kind of thing wasn’t going to be on her agenda with a broken engagement behind her and some unappealing scarring.

But now here she was and glad of it in spite of her lack of enthusiasm for country life. As sleep had stolen over her the night before she’d vowed she was going to make an effort to fit in and if she got the job at the surgery at least she wouldn’t be moping around all day.

‘Does anyone in Willowmere know what happened to me?’ Laurel asked of Elaine as they ate a leisurely breakfast out on the sunny patio.

Her aunt shook her head. ‘No. At the time I was too distressed to talk about it, my beautiful niece caught up in the stupidity of others, and if anyone around here saw it in the papers they wouldn’t see any connection.

‘Right from the start I’ve felt it would be an invasion of your privacy to discuss you with others even though I’ve been bursting with pride every time I thought of what you did. But as far as I’m concerned, that is how it will stay, Laurel. If you should want to tell anyone, that is a different matter.

‘And now what would you like to do today? If you’re not over the moon with our lovely village we can go into the town and shop if you like, but I would rather we saved that sort of thing for when you’ve had some rest and relaxation, which could be in short supply when you’re working at the surgery.’

‘You mean if I’m working there. I’m not exactly spectacular at the moment with a gammy knee that sometimes lets me down and hair that looks as if it’s been cut with a knife and fork.’

‘Nonsense,’ Elaine soothed gently. ‘Your hair is growing back nicely and you’re beautiful with your green eyes and lovely, curvy mouth.’

‘And my rough red hands,’ Laurel reminded her with dry humour. ‘I wear the gloves all the time so that I won’t be mistaken for a domestic drudge.’

‘Get away with you,’ was the response. ‘People around here are very kind and if they knew how you’d got the scarring they would acclaim your courage and dedication to the job. But, as I’ve just said, that is entirely your affair, and as to how we are going to spend your first day away from London, what is it to be, the town or the village?’

‘The village, I think,’ Laurel replied. She would have preferred to go shopping but she knew how much Elaine wanted to show her Willowmere and they could always shop another day.

‘So how about a leisurely stroll and then we’ll have lunch at the Hollyhocks Tea Rooms? It may not be as upmarket as the places where you usually eat, but they won’t be able to beat the food that Emma and her husband serve to their customers.

‘Then if you like I’ll take you to the surgery and introduce you to James. He will want to arrange a time to interview you. Beth Jackson, who is leaving, wants to go as soon as possible. She and her husband are opening a business next to the post office and if you feel the need, by all means wear the gloves, though I do think that you have no call to be so self-conscious about your hands.’

Laurel wasn’t sure about visiting the surgery. ‘Don’t you think that David Trelawney might feel that since arriving here I’ve been continually in his line of vision?’ she said dubiously. ‘At the station, in the garden, when he was driving past on his way to house calls, and at sunset last night.’

‘He’ll be seeing much more of you than that if you’re working at the same place,’ Elaine said laughingly. ‘And how do you know he won’t feel that he can’t get too much of a good thing?’

Laurel couldn’t bring herself to share in Elaine’s amusement. How long, if ever, was it going to be before she felt desirable once more? Each time Darius had visited her in hospital it had been clear that he wasn’t keen on the damaged version, and as she’d fought her way through the pain it had been with her confidence at a very low ebb.

As they walked along the main street Elaine was greeted by everyone they met and Laurel was aware that some curious glances were coming her way, which was not surprising as she was wearing a high-necked sweater, a hat and gloves on a hot summer day.

This is so different from city life, she was thinking as she took in the friendliness of the people. She and her fellow nurses had often commented that in London people were always rushing about, and getting to know one’s next-door neighbour was a rare event, but in Willowmere life seemed to be lived at a slower pace, as if each moment was to be cherished rather than passed quickly by.

It had always been Elaine who had been her visitor before this, staying at the apartment and enjoying every moment with the niece that she loved like a daughter, but now it was Laurel’s turn to leave her natural habitat for a while.

And now here she was, happy to be with the one person who loved her unconditionally, yet feeling totally out of her depth amongst quaint limestone cottages and shops that had an individuality all their own.

‘We passed the surgery last night if you remember,’ Elaine said, indicating a large stone building across the way from where they’d just had an excellent lunch. Noting Laurel’s lack of enthusiasm, she added, ‘Are you sure you want to meet the people who work there?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said with assumed heartiness, deciding that she may as well get it over with. At least it was only a place for local people with their ailments. There would be no rows of beds or doctors with sombre expressions looking down at her, and nurses treating one of their own with sympathy and efficiency.

She’d been introduced to the two receptionists, both of them middle-aged, pleasant and organised, met the two practice nurses and discovered that it was a delicatessen that Beth Jackson and her husband were going to open very soon at the other end of the main street.

At that moment the door of the nearest consulting room opened and an attractive, dark-haired woman was framed there, holding a baby in her arms. The doctor she’d been consulting was close behind and as she was about to leave he bent and kissed her tenderly.

Laurel’s eyes widened and as Elaine steered her in the opposite direction she explained, ‘That is baby Arran Allardyce come to see his daddy. Ben is helping out while Georgina, his wife, who is one of our regular doctors, is on maternity leave.’

‘I see,’ Laurel said, and wished that she had a man in her life to kiss her like that and a beautiful baby to go with it. Day would turn into night before that ever happened in the light of recent events.

James Bartlett, the senior partner, was all that Elaine had described him to be, pleasant, handsome, a very likeable man with two lovely children if the photograph on his desk was anything to go by, and when they’d been introduced her aunt left them to get acquainted.

She’d removed the hat by then, deciding that if she was going to be employed there it was only fair that the man sitting opposite should see what she really looked like, yet she needn’t have worried. James didn’t seem to see anything too odd about the young woman that Elaine had brought to the surgery. ‘When could you come for an interview, Laurel?’

‘Whenever,’ she replied. ‘My time is my own at present.’

‘Then how about on the afternoon of the day that Elaine returns from the leave that she arranged in honour of your arrival? Say two o’clock?’ As she got up to go he shook her hand and said, ‘We’ll look forward to seeing you then.’

She was missing nursing, but until Elaine had suggested she work at the practice had felt it would be too painful to go back to it. But there was something about this pleasant village health care centre that was reaching out to her…and of course there was David Trelawney. Where was he today?

Yesterday she’d been too frazzled to really register the man who’d come to her rescue when she’d been getting off the train, but now she was curious to see if he was as presentable as she’d thought. It would be nice to see him again now that she was in residence, so to speak, and it would give her the opportunity to express further gratitude for his assistance, but it seemed that it was not to be on this bright summer day, and it did rather take the edge off it.

If she and Elaine had walked a little further she would have had the answer to her question. David’s car was parked outside the village hall. He’d been about to start his home visits when a call had come through and he’d gone straight there to find the chairlady of the Women’s Institute, who were holding their usual monthly meeting on the premises, looking far from well.

She was experiencing severe chest pains, perspiring heavily, and her lips were blue. Before he’d even sounded her heart David was phoning for an ambulance and telling her gently, ‘I’m sending you to hospital, Mrs Tate.’

She nodded. Maisie Tate was no fool. She wouldn’t be chairlady of Willowmere’s branch of the Women’s Institute if she was. She could tell that the new doctor at the practice had her down for a heart attack and she didn’t think he was wrong.

But if that was the case, who was going to look after her husband? Barry always had kippers for tea on a Thursday and she wasn’t going to be able to call at the fishmonger’s on her way home today.

David had finished examining her and as another stab of pain ripped across her chest he said reassuringly, ‘The ambulance will be here any moment, Mrs Tate, and they’ll take you straight to hospital when I’ve had a word with the paramedics.’

The rest of the Women’s Institute was hovering around her anxiously and one of them, who must have known her routine, said, ‘Don’t worry, Maisie. I’ll get your Barry his kippers.’

She nodded and David thought incredulously that this was the age group who’d been brought up to have a meal ready for the man of the house when he came in from work. But surely when he knew what was happening to his wife the absent Barry wouldn’t have any appetite.

As he drove along the main street of the village on his way to the delayed calls he was surprised to see Elaine and Laurel walking slowly along the pavement ahead of him, and as he pulled up alongside them he saw that the short skirt, high heels and sheer tights had been replaced by jeans and sandals.

But the rest of her attire was still strange and he didn’t think it was what the fashion-conscious were wearing for the summer in London. A soft felt hat was completely covering the short red-gold hair and she was still wearing the white cotton gloves.

‘Hello, there, and what are you folks up to on this glorious day?’ he asked with a smile that embraced them both.

‘I’m showing Laurel around the village,’ Elaine replied. ‘We’ve just been to the surgery and she’s been introduced to everyone there. Where were you, though? You were the only one missing, David, although you’ve already met my niece, haven’t you?’

I have indeed, he thought, three times to be exact.

‘Yes,’ he replied with the smile still in place, and went on to explain with his glance on her so-far silent companion, ‘I was out on an emergency call.

‘And how are you this morning, Laurel?’ he said easily, wondering if she was anaemic or something of the kind to be wearing that sort of jumper in the heat of summer.

‘Much better, thank you,’ she said flatly, and he sighed inwardly.

He turned to Elaine. ‘I was called to the village hall where the Women’s Institute are having a meeting and found their chairlady with a suspected heart attack.’

‘Oh! No!’ Elaine exclaimed. ‘That would be Maisie Tate. Poor Maisie!’

‘Yes, it was,’ he replied, and thought he couldn’t imagine her companion having much interest in the ills and ailments of the Willowmere villagers. There was an aloofness about her today and he was curious to know what lay beneath it as he never could resist a challenge.

‘And so what do you think of our beautiful village?’ he asked Laurel.

‘I thought that you were a newcomer too,’ she commented dryly, while comparing his clear-cut attractiveness to the wavy dark hair and fashionable stubble of Darius, who’d not wanted her any more because he’d seen the scarring and been revolted…

It wasn’t a situation that would ever occur with this man, she thought with a rush of blood. There would never be an occasion when he saw her minus clothing and…where had such an idea come from anyway?

He was smiling at the comment and she thought how likeable he was as he said, ‘I am a newcomer in one way, yet I feel as if Willowmere has always been part of me. Sometimes we find the place of our dreams and are given the opportunity to live there and that is what I intend to do when I’ve found a house.’

There was no mention of a woman in his life, Laurel noticed, which was incredible, but the odds were that there would be one tucked away somewhere, or relegated to the past for some reason.

‘I must go,’ he said, unaware that she was surmising about his love life. ‘I have a few visits to make and am already late after the callout to Mrs Tate.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Elaine said, and to Laurel’s horror she went on, ‘Would you like to come over for dinner one evening so that I may show my appreciation for the way you looked after my niece yesterday?’

Ugh! Laurel thought, taken aback at the suggestion and its implications. It made her appear to be some sort of helpless, clinging vine, just as she’d been when they’d met at the station and afterwards. But she wasn’t usually like that. It was just unfortunate that David Trelawney had been an observer of her moments of weakness.

If she was taken aback, so was he, she thought, seeing his surprise, but he soon recovered his poise and said politely, ‘Er…yes…I’d love to.’ He glanced warily in her direction. ‘But please don’t feel that you owe me anything for yesterday. It was just a matter of common politeness.’

As Elaine nodded understandingly Laurel thought wistfully that it would be, wouldn’t it? The time was gone when she attracted admiring looks, or handsome men asked her out to dinner.

‘When would you like to come?’ Elaine was asking.

He gave a wry grimace. ‘I’m free most nights. I spend most of my time house hunting or dreaming of renovating an old house I’ve seen.’

‘And where would that be?’ she questioned curiously, while Laurel stood by silently once more.

‘It’s a derelict building in one of the fields beside Willow Lake.’

‘Ah! I know the one. It’s called Water Meetings House. Why that one, though, when there are lots of nice properties in the area? It would need huge restoration work to make it habitable again. It’s been like that for years.’

‘Mmm, I know, but I do have my reasons,’ he said, and without questioning him further Elaine returned to the subject of dinner.

‘So how about one night next week?’ she suggested. ‘Say Friday when there is no surgery the following day?’

‘Yes, fine,’ he replied. ‘What time?’

‘Sevenish, if that’s all right.’

He nodded and with a wave of the hand drove off.

As his car disappeared from view Laurel groaned openly and Elaine said, ‘I know what you’re thinking. That it is unkind of me to invite David to dinner when you want to keep a low profile, but Laurel, I’m not match-making. He is a stranger in the village, just as you are, and we in Willowmere are renowned for our hospitality.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said contritely as the moment of gloom disappeared. ‘The last thing I want is to become a me, me, me sort of person. Self-pity is a form of selfishness.’

‘It can be,’ Elaine agreed gently, ‘but not in your case. And now let’s take you home and put you to bed for a couple of hours and I guarantee that as each day passes you are going to feel more ready to face the world, and whatever you think of Willowmere you couldn’t be recuperating in a better place.’

‘You might be right,’ Laurel said with spirits still lifting as she thought that it was more likely to be the village’s inhabitants than its peace and fresh air that were going to help her take a hold on life again.

Yet as she looked out of her bedroom window before going to bed that night and saw a golden sun setting on the skyline, with the lake glinting in the distance amongst the drooping willows that had given it its name, it didn’t all feel quite so strange as it had the night before.

Within minutes of placing her head on the pillows she slept and for once there were no smoke and flames turning her dreams into nightmares.

Beth called at Glenside Lodge for a chat in her lunch hour the following day and as the three of them relaxed over coffee she said, ‘James must be feeling that it is one departure after another at the surgery. First it was Anna and Glenn going to work in Africa. Then Georgina and Ben had a blissful reunion, which resulted in them remarrying and her giving birth to Arran in the spring, so she is going to be missing for quite some time too, hence David’s most welcome appearance, and now I’m about to try a new slant on village shopping. You will be most welcome in the practice, Laurel, if you can sort something out with James, but are you happy that it might only be temporary?’

‘Yes, it would suit me fine,’ she replied. ‘I’m rather at a crossroads in my life at the moment, so it would give me a short breathing space before I make up my mind what I want to do and where I’m heading.’

Elaine was nodding in silent agreement. Laurel was improving physically, but it was the mental scars that worried her. Her niece had been a bright and trendy twenty-five-year-old when it had happened, totally dedicated to the career she’d chosen and enjoying life in the big city when she hadn’t been working, but now all of that had gone.

Her interest in the village surgery had been lukewarm when she’d taken Laurel there, as had been her interest in life in general, but she wasn’t going to sit by and let her stay in the doldrums. Her beautiful girl still had a lot to offer to those needing health care and to the man who would one day love her for who she was.

Willowmere in summer was a bright haven of colour. The new life that had come bursting through in fields and gardens in the spring was now established in abundant growth. Trees along the riverside, some of them hundreds of years old, were in full leaf, providing a background of fresh greenery against the flimsy craft of the canoe club as they sailed along on practice days, and bird life of every kind imaginable was to be found in cottage gardens and in the park that ran parallel with the river.

The charm of the village attracted walkers and visitors from miles around and as the days passed Laurel was aware that the Hollyhocks Tea Rooms were busy all the time with those seeking appetising meals to complement a summer day, and The Pheasant, its only pub, did much trade with others who had less discerning tastes but could guarantee a thirst.

Often it wasn’t until late in the evening that the quiet that she’d been so dubious about descended. It was on one of those occasions that she went for a stroll in the gathering dusk beside the lake that was visible when she looked through her bedroom window.

Elaine had gone to bed and she’d been about to do the same when the urge to go out into the gloaming had overtaken her. The sunset had been magnificent and now it was still and sultry with a yellow moon above.

She’d been wearing a sundress in the house and instead of changing into something less revealing threw a light cardigan across her bare shoulders and sallied forth, minus the gloves.

There were still a few people about loath to be inside on such a night, but they thinned out as she drew nearer to the lake, and by the time she was only a field away she was alone, and looming up in front of her in the moonlight were the ruins of a big stone house. Could this be the place that David Trelawney had mentioned? she wondered. If so, what a mess it was in, yet what a position, just a hundred feet or so from Willow Lake, and on the other side of the house, not far away, the place where the two rivers that flowed through the village met. There was a tattered sign on the fencing that separated the field from the road and as she peered at it she saw that it said appropriately ‘Water Meetings House.’ She shook her head in disbelief. Was the man insane? It would take forever to restore this place.

‘Hello, there,’ a voice said from behind her.

She turned slowly and he was there, the village doctor who was considering rebuilding the shell of what must have once been a gracious home.

‘Hi,’ she said lightly, pulling the cardigan tightly around her shoulders. ‘I came out for a stroll and stumbled upon this derelict house. It’s the one that you mentioned the other day, isn’t it?’

He was smiling. She could see his teeth gleaming whitely in the moon’s light. ‘Yes, it is. I expect you think I’m crazy to be considering restoring it.’

‘Yes, I do as a matter of fact,’ was the reply. ‘Yet I can see why. It’s in a fantastic position and so aptly named.’

She was a dedicated city dweller, but there was something about the moment with the two of them wrapped around by the silent night and the remains of the limestone house shining palely in the moonlight that was firing her imagination, and she thought whimsically that it was as if there were forces abroad that were out to entrance her, when she didn’t want to be entranced.

As he observed her bemused expression David was thinking along similar lines. It was weird that Laurel of all people should be so much on his wavelength about this place and the ruins of his mother’s old home. Meeting up with her out there in the moonlight was just as odd as on the other times they’d met.

It had come at the end of a very strange day. In the early afternoon he’d had a phone call from one of the Texan wives who’d been in Caroline’s group when he’d first met her in London.

He’d been surprised to hear from her and even more so when he’d heard what she had to say. She’d rung to tell him that Caroline had married the senator that she’d been seeing at the time they’d ended their relationship.

‘My Jerome said we should let you know,’ she’d said gently in a soft Texan drawl, ‘so that if you hear it from someone else it won’t be such a shock.’

He’d thanked her and after chatting briefly had finished the call with no feelings of regret. There’d been just the relief of knowing that the big mistake he’d almost made had reached its final conclusion, and it would be a long time before he made such an error of judgement again.

He’d picked up the phone again and rung his father, and when he’d told him about the call from America and that it was definitely over with his ex-fiancée Jonas had exclaimed, ‘Praise be! But I thought it already was?’

‘Yes, it was, but now there is closure, Dad,’ he said calmly.

‘And are you sure you’re all right with that?’

‘Spot on,’ he replied. ‘It would never have worked. We had a different set of values.’

‘One day you’ll meet the right woman and when it happens you will know beyond any doubt,’ Jonas said. ‘When I met your mother I knew she was the only one for me, and it will be the same for you.’

‘If you say so,’ he agreed dubiously, with the old proverb about once bitten, twice shy in mind.

With the feeling of contentment still there he went to the local estate agent’s while out on his calls and ended his uncertainties about the house by the lake by making an offer for it and the land it stood on.

In the summer twilight he’d gone to gaze upon what he hoped would soon be his and found that the strange day was not yet over. He’d found Laurel Maddox there, standing silent and alone in front of what had been his mother’s childhood home.

A Summer Wedding At Willowmere

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