Читать книгу Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 1 - Sarah Morgan, Caroline Anderson - Страница 16

THEY went to the Smugglers’ Inn for a late lunch, up on the cliff near the church, and talked to the landlord, Tony, about booking a room for the day of the wedding.

‘Just a small lunch party,’ Lucy said, being deliberately vague.

‘How many?’ Tony asked, and she looked at Ben helplessly and shrugged.

‘I don’t know. Twenty, at the most?’

‘Probably,’ Ben agreed. ‘I don’t know. We need to make a definitive list yet, but would it be possible in principle?’

‘Oh, yes. Mondays aren’t busy. Want to see our buffet menu? It’s very popular for weddings.’

She felt herself colouring. ‘Is that your usual party fare?’ she asked, refusing to answer the question in his eyes, but he just smiled and handed her the menu.

‘Just have a look through,’ he said, and pushed himself away from the bar. ‘Now, let me get you a drink and you can sit down and browse through that and draw up your list over lunch. Are you ready to order?’

‘Mmm—scampi and chips,’ she said without hesitation. ‘I love it here.’

‘And for you, sir?’

‘I’ll have the same. And something non-alcoholic, times two. Lucy?’

‘Oh—apple juice, please, Tony. Thanks.’

‘Make that two.’

Tony set them on the bar. ‘Here you go—look, there’s a table by the fire. Go and warm yourselves and I’ll bring the food over to you.’

‘So—who’s coming?’ Ben asked softly once they were settled, pulling a notepad out of his pocket and flipping to a clean page.

She looked up at him, doubts flooding her. ‘I don’t know. My father, if I can persuade him. Jack, my twin, but I haven’t spoken to him for ages and I know he’s really busy, so he may not be able to get here on a weekday. Ed’s in Africa, so he can’t come. Marco and Dragan, although someone will have to be at work, I suppose. Kate, of course, and Chloe, my midwife, and Lauren, the physio, and Alison—she’s a practice nurse and we’ve worked together a lot on the minor surgery. Melinda—the vet, you remember her, you stitched her arm. Vicky, the hair-dresser—she’ll do my hair, too, if I ask her. Gosh, I don’t know. Mike and Fran Trevellyan? Mike’s family bought the land from my grandmother’s family donkey’s years ago, and they live just up the road from Tregorran House. They’ll be our closest neighbours, and I’ve known Mike since my childhood. I used to think he was gorgeous—he was my hero, and he put up with us trailing around after him with amazing patience. They’ve got a farm shop, and he runs the farmer’s market here every Saturday. Fran’s a teacher—so she may not be able to make it because she’ll be at school, I expect. And, of course, Hazel and Sue and Doris from the surgery. How many’s that?’

‘Fifteen, if everyone comes. If your father and Jack and either Marco or Dragan and Fran can’t make it, eleven.’

‘What about you?’

‘My parents—they’re only in Tavistock, so that’s not a problem. They’re both working, but I’m sure they’ll take the time off. My brother, Rob, and his wife, Polly? They’re in London, so I expect they’ll come down and stay with my parents for the weekend. Rob can be my best man. Jo, my registrar? A couple of other work colleagues. We can always have a big party later on, after the baby’s born and we’re settled in. Maybe a big christening in the summer.’

By which time, she thought, her father might have mellowed a little, Ed might be back from Africa and if she gave him enough notice, even Jack might manage to be there.

‘Good idea,’ she said with a smile. She picked up the notepad. ‘That’s somewhere between twenty and twenty-five, including us. Good guess. What about this menu?’

‘What, the party food?’ he teased, handing her the wedding buffet menu Tony had given them to look at, and she laughed awkwardly.

‘I don’t want to put it around the village until I’ve spoken to my father,’ she said.

Tony came over at that moment and put their meals down and said in a low voice, ‘I think you should know you were seen coming out of the Vicarage earlier, and the people of this village have always been good at adding two and two. If you’re hoping to keep it a secret, you’re in the wrong place, my friends. You’ve been well and truly rumbled.’

They exchanged rueful looks, and then the significance of it hit Lucy.

‘Oh, Ben, I’m going to have to talk to my father now, before anybody else does.’

He put out a hand and stopped her. ‘No. Eat your lunch, and we’ll go together in a minute. Tony, lunch for twenty-five max from this menu will be lovely. Thank you.’

He handed it back to the landlord, who nodded, patted Lucy on the shoulder and said, ‘Don’t worry. We’ll look after you. Everyone’s delighted.’

Everyone except her father. And she still had to find out quite how undelighted he was.

He wouldn’t even talk to her.

‘I haven’t got time to see you,’ he said curtly when she went into his consulting room anyway, leaving Ben outside. ‘Besides, I thought you said everything that was necessary last night. You’ve made it clear where your affections lie, so I suggest you get on with it.’

‘Oh, Dad, please,’ she said, her eyes filling. She blinked the tears away furiously, knowing they would only irritate him, and tried again. ‘I love him. I know you think he was responsible—’

‘No. I know he was responsible, and I’m having nothing more to do with either of you. You’ve made your bed, Lucy. Go and lie in it.’

She recoiled in shock, hardly able to believe how much he’d changed from the busy but caring parent he had been in her childhood. When had he turned into this man she didn’t even know? She tried again. ‘Dad, please. I want you to come to the wedding. I need you there. I can’t get married without either of you—’

‘That’s your choice. And you’ve made it. You’re marrying a man who hasn’t even got the guts to come with you and talk to me. Well, he’s welcome to you. You deserve each other. Now I have a surgery, patients waiting, and I don’t need this. Please go.’

She stood there for a moment longer, unbearably torn, but he ignored her pointedly, and in the end she stumbled through the door into Ben’s arms. She hadn’t let him come in with her, hoping it would help to soften her father, but it hadn’t. It had made it worse.

‘I’m going to talk to him,’ Ben said, his voice shaking with anger, but she stopped him.

‘No. Just get me out of here. I’ve had enough.’

He took her out to the car, opened the door for her, helped her in and closed the door, then disappeared. She looked round over her shoulder and saw him going back inside.

Oh, no! He was going to cause a scene…

He came back out again, opened his door and slid behind the wheel, then started the engine. ‘I just told Kate you’re taking next week off. She’s arranging cover.’ He shot her a quick glance, his eyes troubled. ‘Are you all right?’

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Pressing her hand to her mouth, she shook her head, then burst into tears.

He swore, softly but comprehensively, and drove her home, then held her until she’d finally cried herself out. Then he made her a hot drink, tucked her up in bed and left her to sleep.

She didn’t think she’d be able to, but she was exhausted by emotion, devastated by her father’s rejection, and sleep promised oblivion. She closed her eyes, snuggled down on Ben’s pillow, inhaling the scent of him, and finally dropped off to sleep.

‘I can’t believe it! She actually had the gall to ask me to go to her wedding!’

Kate sighed and closed the door of her office. Nick was pacing like a caged lion, the emotions chasing one after the other across his tortured face, and she didn’t know what to say to him. She never did these days, and certainly not about this. Not about Annabel’s death, but Ben didn’t deserve this, and Lucy certainly didn’t, and she couldn’t just let it go.

‘Why are you punishing your daughter because you feel guilty for letting Annabel down?’ she asked softly, hitting right at the heart of it, and he stopped pacing and glared at her.

‘I what?’

‘You heard me. Annabel’s death was nothing to do with Ben, and you know it. And you really can’t go around accusing him of rigging the inquiry in public—unless you want to end up in court,’ she added, getting into her stride. ‘You’ve got to get a grip, Nick. She’s been in love with Ben for years, since before Annabel died, and he’s in love with her. This has been a long time coming, and with the baby on the way, it’s not a moment too soon. I can’t let you ruin her day for her, or her marriage, or her joy at becoming a mother. Just think about this, Nick. What would Annabel have had to say about your behaviour?’

And with that she walked out, shaking with anger and a whole range of other emotions she really didn’t want to confront, and left him to think about it. Maybe when he’d cooled off and the dust had settled he’d change his mind, but she really didn’t think he would.

The chances of him going to Lucy’s wedding were slim to none, and Kate’s heart ached for her.

Ben had to go to work on Sunday. He was on call, and he couldn’t get out of it, but he hated leaving Lucy.

It was as if all the light had gone out of her, and he was furious with her father and worried sick about her. She’d even talked about calling off the wedding, but he’d managed to convince her it was silly. The wedding wasn’t about her father, it was about their love and commitment for each other, and he was damned if Nick was going to screw up something so important because of his foolish and stiff-necked refusal to recognise the truth.

And then he ended up having to call him, because they had three people, a couple and a man on his own, presenting with similar symptoms of violent stomach cramps, acute nausea and vomiting and profuse diarrhoea, all within three hours of each other, and although the couple were from Exeter and the man from Birmingham, they had one thing in common—they’d all been staying at Trevallyn House in Penhally.

Damn. Ben didn’t want to speak to him, and he was sure it was mutual, but he cut straight to the point. ‘Dr Tremayne, I’m phoning from St Piran. It’s Ben Carter—there’s an outbreak of vomiting and diarrhoea that may be connected to Trevallyn House in Harbour Road in Penhally. It’s run by—’

‘Beatrice Trevallyn. I know. What are the symptoms?’

‘Acute abdominal cramps, profuse diarrhoea—in one of the patients it’s bloody and mucoid—vomiting, headache, pyrexia of 38.5°C. The first patient in is a man from Birmingham who stayed there last night, the other couple have been there since Friday and were on their way home. They became ill just after they started their journey. There are no other links that we can establish between them apart from Trevallyn House.’

‘Right. I’ll check it out. Have you notified Public Health?’

‘No, I’m just about to. I suspect it’s salmonella, and Public Health will want to inspect the premises. I’m just alerting you as it’s likely you’ll be called by anyone local who may be suffering from it. If it’snot restricted to that one source, we need to know so we can set up an isolation unit.’

‘Fine. I’ll get on it now.’

And Nick hung up without another word. Ben shrugged. It suited him. The last thing he could envisage with the man was small talk!

He went back to the patients, isolated together in one bay, and concentrated on getting fluids into them and monitoring their symptoms. They were all too ill to travel home, and until they got the results of the stool samples from the Public Health lab, they needed to be barrier nursed in isolation. The last thing they needed in the hospital was an outbreak of winter vomiting virus, and the symptoms were similar.

He set up IV fluid replacement, checked them all again to make sure there was no further deterioration, and then he was vomited on.

Great.

He went and showered very, very thoroughly. He didn’t need to take home anything nasty to a pregnant woman who already had quite enough on her plate.

‘Call for you, Ben,’ the charge nurse said through the door. ‘It’s Nick Tremayne.’

‘Take a message,’ he yelled, and towelled himself roughly dry, pulled on a clean set of scrubs and went back out. ‘What did he want?’

‘Mrs Trevallyn is sick, and her son, Davey, is in a state of collapse—he’s got learning difficulties as well, by the way. He’s sending them in. He says there are no other residents, nobody else has been there in the last seventy-two hours and he hasn’t been called out by anyone from outside the guest house.’

‘Right. Thanks. Looks localised, then. Anything from Public Health?’

‘No. I’ll chase them up.’

‘Do that—and can we get these three up to a medical ward? All five can be nursed together, and if I’m right, that’ll be the end of it, unless it’s meat from a local supplier, in which case we could get many more.’

‘Look on the bright side, why don’t you,’ the charge nurse said with a grin, and went to organise the removal of their patients from the unit.

‘I’ll get a fleet of cleaners in to deal with this lot,’ he threw over his shoulder. ‘We’ll need a serious hosing-down of all this contaminated equipment before we can put it back into use.’

‘Good idea.’

And he needed to phone Lucy. He couldn’t leave the department until he had the results back and was sure it was only a restricted salmonella outbreak and not something much worse and more widespread.

It was the best and yet the most appalling fortnight of Lucy’s life. If it hadn’t been for Ben, it would have been intolerable—but if it hadn’t been for Ben, it wouldn’t have been intolerable, so that was stupid.

After Sunday when he was at work, they spent a lot of time together, both at Tregorran House and in his old house in Orchard Way. She was having only three days off, and refused to take any more despite Ben’s persuasion, so she had to make the best of it. And they were lovely days.

She wasn’t allowed to do anything, but he couldn’t stop her planning, and she ordered a skip and watched him fill it with the horrible carpets and curtains, and made notes for the wedding.

Not that there were many to make.

She needed a dress. She needed flowers—a simple posy would do, nothing much, and as it was Advent the church wouldn’t have flowers. Foliage, then—ivy and eucalyptus and variegated laurel from the garden. She could see plenty of things from where she was sitting, and if she had a few white flowers interspersed—roses, perhaps?—that would be enough.

The food was taken care of, and the drinks they’d get from Tony, and she’d spoken to everyone except Jack and Ed. Ed she’d emailed, because it was the easiest way to deal with it, and she’d sent Jack a text.

Needless to say, he hadn’t called her back, but he was obviously up to his eyes. He was working hard, throwing himself into his career—although to hear her father on the subject you’d be forgiven for thinking he was never out of night-clubs—and she knew he’d get back to her when he could.

As for the rest—well, there was no ‘rest’. That was it, the sum total of the arrangements. The hymns were chosen, the order of service typed up on Ben’s computer and printed off on fine card, and there was nothing left to do but wait for Jack to ring and her father to come round.

She wasn’t holding her breath.

‘You OK?’

She smiled up at Ben. ‘I’m fine. How about you?’

‘Good. All done. The skip’s full, the house is empty, all ready for the decorators to come in and blitz it, and guess what I found?’

He dangled a big old iron key in front of her, and she exclaimed in delight and reached for it. ‘The front door key!’

‘Is it? I thought it might be. It was under the mat. Want to try it?’

‘Oh, yes. I expect it’ll be a bit rusty, but we used to go out into the garden in the summer through the front door. It’s got bolts as well—I’ll let you do those.’

So he struggled with the bolts and finally freed them, and she put the key in the lock and turned it, and although it was a bit stiff, they heard the lock go, and together they turned the doorknob. A gust of wind caught the door and blew it open, and in front of them, beyond the garden and the field, was the sea, sparkling in the low winter sunlight.

She filled her lungs with the cold, fresh air and laughed. ‘Oh, that’s gorgeous! Oh, Ben, thank you.’

‘What, for finding the key? We could have had another one made.’

‘No,’ she said, turning to him and cradling his face in her hands. ‘For getting me my house.’

He stared down at her in silence for a moment, then he sighed softly and drew her into his arms.

‘It’s a pleasure,’ he murmured. ‘Just to see you happy is more than enough reward.’

He let her go, lifting his head, then he said, ‘Is that your phone?’

‘Oh—yes. I’ll get it.’ She hurried to her bag and pulled it out, pressing the button just in time. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi, kiddo.’

‘Jack! Oh, Jack, I’m so glad you’ve got back to me. You got my text?’

‘Yes, I got it. That’s why I’m ringing you.’

‘Tell me you can come,’ she pleaded. ‘Dad’s being really difficult—it’s because it’s Ben. He’s still being really stupid about it and I can’t get through to him. I don’t think there’s a prayer he’ll come to the wedding, and Ed’s in Africa—Jack, I want you to give me away.’

There was a lengthy silence, and her heart sank. ‘Jack?’

‘Ah, hell, Lucy. Oh, God, I’m so sorry, kiddo, I can’t. Did you hear India died?’

‘Yes, of course I did. It was in all the gossip rags. Not that you told me, of course, because you never tell me anything—’

‘She’s got a child,’ he cut in.

‘Yes, I saw. But—’

‘Lucy, he’s mine. His name’s Freddie, and—he’s my son. I’ve been granted custody of him, and—oh, sis, I need you. I’m just so out of my depth. I don’t know what I’m doing with him.’

She walked back into the kitchen and sat down again at the table they’d set up in there. ‘Oh, Jack. I don’t believe it. How old is he?’

‘Um—little. Nearly three. I’m just—I’m having problems with him adjusting to me. He misses his mother, and he doesn’t know who the hell I am, and I really don’t think I can leave him right now, and I certainly can’t bring him, not all that way. And all the fuss would just confuse him more.’

He wasn’t coming. And he was a father! Much more important, she told herself, and set aside her disappointment.

‘Oh, Jack, I quite understand. Don’t beat yourself up over it. And remember, you’re not alone. We’re all here for you. You could move back down here, so we can all help you.’

‘I can’t see Dad helping. He’d say I brought it on myself.’

‘No,’ she said, but with more conviction than she felt. ‘He’ll come round.’

‘I wish I had your confidence. Oh, Lucy, I just don’t know how to deal with Freddie—what to say to him to make it better.’

‘Just put yourself in his position, and be there for him, and be kind. And think about what I said, about moving back here. You don’t have to do this by yourself.’

He gave a ragged laugh that broke in the middle. ‘Just at the moment I don’t know if I can do it at all, sis. You know, give me a job I can do—a really messy RTA with lots of reconstruction work—and I’m happy as a pig in muck. Give me a little boy with huge blue eyes that watch me warily all day long, and I just fall apart. He needs a mother, and his own was bloody useless but at least she loved him…’

His voice cracked, and Lucy’s heart ached for him. For both of them. ‘Oh, Jack, you’ll cope,’ she said gently. ‘If I wasn’t so pregnant I’d come and see you, but—’

‘No, don’t be silly. You marry your Ben, and I’ll be thinking of you at the time, but I can’t get down. I’m so, so sorry.’

‘Don’t be. You’re doing the right thing. Give him a hug from his Aunty Lucy, and you take care. I’ll send you both a bit of cake.’

‘You do that—and have a really great day. Love you, kiddo.’

‘Love you too, big bro.’

She lowered the phone to her lap and looked up at Ben, her heart heavy. ‘He can’t come. He’s got a son—Freddie. He’s only just found out, and he’s having problems with him and can’t leave him. There won’t be anybody in my family there, Ben. Not one.’

‘Oh, darling…’

He gathered her into his arms and cradled her close, his heart breaking for her. And then the baby kicked him, and he lifted his head and smiled down at her. ‘That’s not true. I’ll be there, and so will the baby. I don’t know if it’s enough, but we’re your family, too, and we’ll be there. So you won’t be alone.’

Her hands slid down and cradled the baby, and a tear slipped down her cheek, catching on her lip as she smiled. ‘No. I won’t. You’re right. And you’re all I need—all I’ll ever need.’

Kate knocked briefly on Nick’s consulting-room door and walked in.

He was standing at the window, his jaw set, arms folded, and a muscle twitched in his cheek.

‘Nick?’

‘I’m not going.’

‘Why?’

He turned, letting out his breath in an explosive sigh. ‘You know why.’

She couldn’t let him do this. She couldn’t let him miss his own daughter’s wedding because when he came to his senses it would be another layer of guilt to add to the countless others.

‘You have to go. This isn’t about you, it’s about Lucy, and it’s about her mother.’

‘Her dead mother.’

‘Exactly. Her mother who can’t be there for her. Her mother who can’t sit just over her left shoulder, sniffing into a handkerchief and being ridiculously proud of her. Lucy’s not asking you to give her away, and neither am I. Mike Trevellyan’s doing it. She just wants you there, in the congregation, so she’s not the only one there from the Tremayne family.’

‘He let her die.’

‘No. No, he didn’t, Nick. He did everything he could, and he was gutted that she died. And he loves Lucy to bits. He’ll be a good husband and father. He’ll make her happy—which is more than you’re doing at the moment. So—are you coming, or not?’

For a moment she thought he’d say no, but then he snatched his coat off the back of the door, shrugged into it and yanked the door open. ‘Well, come on, then, we don’t want to be late.’

Nick couldn’t believe he was doing it.

Going to Lucy’s wedding, in the church where his father and brother and Annabel had all been laid to rest.

He nearly turned round and drove back, but Kate wouldn’t have let him and, anyway, she was right. He had to be there, for Lucy’s mother.

The church car park was full, to his surprise, and he had to go to the Smugglers’ Inn. It was only a few yards further, but as they hurried back, he saw Lucy arriving in Mike Trevellyan’s wonderful old car. It was done up with ribbons, and it was gleaming, and as Mike helped her out, Nick’s footsteps faltered.

He should be doing that. Giving her away. Not some man who was almost a stranger.

He broke into a run, Kate after him, and they reached the church just as the music started and she was walking down the aisle.

‘Here,’ Kate said, tucking a flower into his buttonhole, and she gave him a little shove.

The vicar was there in his ceremonial robes, Ben standing ramrod straight in front of him, and when he turned to look at Lucy, his eyes met Nick’s and held. Then he looked down into Lucy’s face and smiled.

‘He’s here,’ Ben said.

‘Who?’

‘Your father.’

She turned, searching the crowd, but then she saw him, hesitating at the back of the church, as if he was unsure of his welcome. He smiled at her, a sad, twisted smile, and she held out her hand, but he didn’t move.

For an endless moment everyone held their breath, and then she gave up, and turned back to the vicar. Ben’s hand caught hers and tightened on it, giving her support, and she clung to him.

Her father was here. He’d said he wouldn’t come, but he was here. Mike was hovering beside her, unsure what to do, but she smiled at the vicar and nodded, and he smiled back.

‘Dearly beloved,’ he began, and Lucy listened and tried to concentrate, but then, when Mr Kenner said, ‘Who gives this woman to be married to this man?’ there was a ripple through the congregation, and her father’s voice rang out.

‘I do,’ he said, and reaching her side he took her right hand, kissed her cheek and said softly, ‘I’m sorry,’ and placed her hand in Ben’s.