‘You’re pregnant!’

‘Yes’, she said softly. ‘With our baby. Maybe you recall an afternoon in August?’

Recall it, he thought raggedly. He would never forget it as long as he lived. The softness of her in his arms again, his mouth on hers, her desire matching his. Hope had been born in him that day.

It was why he was here, in the place where Georgina had made a new life for herself—a life that she was making it clear he wasn’t included in. But nothing she said could take away the joy of knowing that those moments of madness were going to bring a new life into the world—their child.

Abigail Gordon loves to write about the fascinating combination of medicine and romance from her home in a Cheshire village. She is active in local affairs, and is even called upon to write the script for the annual village pantomime! Her eldest son is a hospital manager, and helps with all her medical research. As part of a close-knit family, she treasures having two of her sons living close by, and the third one not too far away. This also gives her the added pleasure of being able to watch her delightful grandchildren growing up.

Recent titles by the same author:

CHRISTMAS AT WILLOWMERE*

COUNTRY DOCTOR, SPRING BRIDE

A SINGLE DAD AT HEATHERMERE

A WEDDING IN THE VILLAGE

*The Willowmere Village Stories

Dear Reader

Having been brought up happily enough in a Lancashire mill town, where fields and trees were sparse on the landscape, I now live in the countryside and find much pleasure in the privilege of doing so. It gives me the opportunity to write about village life with its caring communities and beautiful surroundings.

So, dear reader, welcome to the second of my four stories about Willowmere, a picturesque village tucked away in the Cheshire countryside. During the changing seasons you will meet the folk who live and work there, and share in their lives and loves.

Spring has come to Willowmere when Georgina and Ben meet up again, after a long separation brought about by the kind of heartbreak that either makes a stronger bond between those experiencing it or, as in their case, drives them apart. In A BABY FOR THE VILLAGE DOCTOR, they discover that the flame of love still burns brightly.

Happy reading!

Abigail Gordon

The Willowmere Village Stories Look out for David and Laurel’s story in the summer!

A BABY FOR THE VILLAGE DOCTOR

BY

ABIGAIL GORDON

www.millsandboon.co.uk

IN MEMORY OF MY FRIEND IRENE SWARBRICK RNA SWWJ

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS a bright spring morning but as Georgina Adams drove along the rough track that led to the gamekeeper’s cottage on the Derringham Estate she was oblivious to what was going on around her.

April was just around the corner and daffodils and narcissi were making bright splashes of colour in cottage gardens. Fresh green shoots were appearing in hedgerows and fields where lambs covered in pale wool tottered on straight little legs beside their mothers.

On a normal day she would have been entranced by the sights around her but today the beauty of the countryside in spring wasn’t registering.

The only new life that Georgina was aware of was the one she was carrying inside her. She was pregnant and though there was joy in knowing that she was going to have a child, there were clouds in her sky.

Ben had never replied to the letter she’d sent, explaining that they needed to talk, and that she would travel to London to see him if he would let her know when it would be convenient. The weeks were going by and he didn’t know about the baby.

She’d only written the once, and it had been very difficult, agonising over what to say and how to say it, because she wanted to tell him that he was going to be a father again face to face. He was entitled to know that he’d made her pregnant, and she needed to be there to see his reaction.

In the end she’d written just a few bald sentences, sealed the envelope before she changed her mind, and gone straight away to post it to an address that she knew as well as she knew her own name. He hadn’t replied, and it was now beginning to look as if that was the end of it.

The fact that the baby’s father didn’t know she was pregnant was the biggest cloud in her sky, but the hurt and loss from over three years ago had never gone away. Remembering how Ben had been then, it wasn’t altogether surprising that he hadn’t been in touch, but she did wish he had.

Half of the time she was gearing herself up for the role of single parent and for the rest she was battling with the longing to have Ben beside her as she awaited the birth of their second child.

At almost eight months pregnant there was no way of concealing it and she was conscious all the time of the curious stares of those she came into contact with. She’d lived alone since she’d joined the village medical practice three years ago as its only woman doctor and had kept her private life strictly under wraps.

To her colleagues at the practice, her patients and the friends she’d made since settling in the Cheshire village of Willowmere, Georgina was pleasant and caring, but that was as far as it went.

The only person locally who knew anything about what was going on in her life was James Bartlett, who was in charge of village health care and lived next door to the surgery with his two children.

He had told her that if she ever needed a friend, she could rely on him, and had left it at that. James hadn’t asked who the father of her baby was, but she knew he would have seen her around the village with Nicholas during the weeks leading up to Christmas and it would have registered that he’d not been on the scene since the New Year.

Soon she and James would have to discuss her future role in the practice, but before that happened, replacements were required for two staff members who had recently gone to work in Africa.

When she stopped the car outside the grace-and-favour cottage of the woman she’d come to visit, the husband came striding out, dressed in a waterproof jacket with boots on his feet, a cap on his head and to complete the outfit he had a gun tucked under his arm.

Dennis Quarmby was gamekeeper for Lord Derringham, who owned Kestrel Court, the biggest residence in the area, and with it miles of the surrounding countryside. But at that moment the main concern of the man approaching was not grouse or pheasants, or those who came to poach them on his employer’s estate.

His wife was far from well and on seeing that the lady doctor from the practice had arrived in answer to an urgent request, he waited for her to get out of the car before going on his way.

‘Our eldest girl is with the missus,’ he told her, his anxiety revealed in his expression. ‘I wanted to be here when you came but Lord Derringham has just been on the phone to me because someone has been breaking down the fences up on the estate and he wants me there right away. He rang off before I could tell him I was waiting for a doctor to visit Christine. Her eyes and mouth are so dry she’s in real distress, and with the rheumatoid arthritis, as well, she’s feeling very low.’

Georgina nodded. She’d seen Christine Quarmby a few times recently and on one occasion had had to tell her that she was suffering from rheumatoid arthritis. Now there was this and there could be a connection that had serious implications.

When she went inside the cottage, the gamekeeper’s wife said, ‘Has my husband been telling you my tale of woe, Doctor? He does worry about me, though I have to admit I’m struggling at the moment. I’m having trouble swallowing, as well as everything else that is wrong with me.’

It was clear that the glands that produce tears and saliva weren’t working, Georgina thought, in keeping with some sort of autoimmune disorder. But it required the opinion of a neurologist before she prescribed any medication and she told Christine, ‘I’m going to make you an appointment to see a neurologist and the rheumatologist that you saw when we were trying to sort out the rheumatoid arthritis. We’ll see what they come up with.’

‘I know someone who has the lupus thing,’ Christine said. ‘You don’t think it’s that, do you, Doctor?’

‘I wouldn’t like to make a guess at this stage,’ she told her, surprised that her patient had been thinking along the same lines. ‘I’ll ask for an urgent appointment and we’ll take it from there.’

As she was leaving, Dennis returned and announced that as soon as he’d informed his employer that his wife was ill, he’d told him to forget the fences and come home.

‘Christine will tell you what we’ve discussed, Mr Quarmby,’ Georgina told him, ‘and in the meantime send for me again if she gets any worse.’

‘I’ll do that, all right,’ he promised. ‘She plays everything down, having been made to suffer in silence when there was anything wrong with her when she was a kid, and thinks she shouldn’t complain, which is not the case when there’s anything wrong with me. I do that much moaning, everybody knows.’

‘Yes, well, look after her. She needs some tender loving care,’ she told him. ‘I’m sending Christine to see two of the consultants at St Gabriel’s and hopefully we’ll have a clearer picture of what is wrong when she’s been seen by them.’

When she returned to the practice in the main street of the village, it felt strange, as it had done for days with Anna and Glenn no longer there. Anna Bartlett was James’s sister and had been one of the practice nurses.

On a snowy day in January she had married Glenn Hamilton, who’d been working at the surgery as a temporary locum, and in early March the newlyweds had gone to Africa to work with one of the aid programmes out there, before returning to Willowmere to settle down permanently.

They needed to be replaced and soon, or she and James would be overwhelmed by the demand for their services, and though she intended working until the baby was due, she would need time off afterwards. So some new faces were going to be needed around the surgery without delay.

It was lunchtime and James was having a quick bite when she appeared. ‘The kettle has just boiled,’ he told her. ‘How did you find Christine Quarmby?’

Her expression was grave. ‘Not too good, I’m afraid. There is something very worrying about her symptoms. Christine thinks she might have lupus, which as we know has connections with rheumatoid arthritis, and she could be right, though I do hope not. I’m referring her back to the rheumatologist she saw before and am going to arrange for her to see a neurologist, as well.’

‘Hmm, there isn’t much else you can do at this point,’ he agreed. ‘By the way, Georgina, I’m interviewing this evening for another doctor and a practice nurse. Beth Jackson is struggling single-handed in the nurses’ room, and we haven’t yet had anyone come in as another partner since the gap that was left when my father died.

‘I would have liked Glenn to become permanent. He was an excellent doctor, like yourself, but it didn’t work out that way. Do you want to sit in on the interviews, or will you have had enough by the end of afternoon surgery?’

‘I’ll give it a miss, if you don’t mind,’ she told him, ‘unless you especially want me to be there.’ She gave a wry smile, ‘I’ll be the next one to cause staffing problems, but not until after the baby is born.’

‘Don’t you worry about that,’ he said. ‘Just take care of yourself, Georgina. With regard to the interviews, I’ll bring you up to date with what’s gone on in the morning, so go and put your feet up when the surgery closes. It’s only a fortnight to Easter. Why don’t you go away for a few days?’

‘I’ll think about it,’ she promised, and made a pot of tea to have with the sandwich she’d bought at the bakery across the road.

‘How many applicants have you had for the two vacancies?’ she questioned as he prepared to go back to his duties.

‘There have been quite a few. I’ve sifted out the ones that sounded suitable and once the children are asleep, I’ll be coming back for the interviews. Their daytime nanny finishes at half past six, which coincides with the end of my time here under normal circumstances, but Helen, my housekeeper, has offered to be there for Pollyanna and Jolyon tonight.’

When Georgina let herself into the cottage on a quiet lane at the far end of the village, it still felt empty without the lively presence of Nicholas. It had been nice to have her ex-husband’s brother around for a while.

He’d been based in the United States since just after she and Ben had divorced. The offer of a job in aerodynamics that he’d long coveted had come up and he’d been torn between taking it and staying to help them sort out their lives. Both of them had insisted that his future mattered more than theirs and he’d gone, though reluctantly.

Nick had been back a few times and stayed with them both alternately. He’d done the same this last time when he’d come over to Manchester to arrange the U.K. side of the firm that employed him in Texas, staying with her during the week and spending his weekends with his brother in London as part of a situation where she and Ben never made any contact.

If she had ever felt the necessity to get in touch, as was now the case, Georgina knew where Ben could be found. It was she who had moved out of the house in a leafy London square all that time ago. A house where, in that other life, the two of them had lived blissfully with Jamie, their six-year-old son.

Jamie. It had been losing him that had taken the backbone out of their marriage and, like other loving parents before them, tragedy hadn’t brought them closer, it had driven them apart.

She knew that Nicholas hated the situation he found himself in with the two people he cared for most in the world, yet he wasn’t a go-between. Georgina had made him promise that he would never divulge her whereabouts to Ben without her permission. Even though she knew Ben was the last person who would come looking for her after all they had been through.

As she made a meal of sorts, Georgina was remembering how Nicholas had taken her to Willowmere’s Mistletoe Ball in the marquee on the school sports ground, and he’d gone with her to the gathering at James’s house on Christmas Eve when Anna and Glenn had announced their engagement. So she supposed the senior partner at the practice could be forgiven if he had Nicholas down as the father of her baby.

It had been August when something she’d not been prepared for had happened. She’d been at Jamie’s graveside, taking the wrapping off the white roses that she always brought with her, when a voice had said from behind, ‘Hello, Georgina.’

She’d turned slowly and he’d been there, Ben Allardyce, her ex-husband, the father of the cherished child they’d lost.

He’d looked older, greying at the temples, and the emptiness that had never left his eyes after Jamie had been taken from them had still been there in the gaze meeting hers. As she’d faced him, like a criminal caught in the act, she’d known that no other man would ever hold her heart as Ben had.

Nicholas had told her that Ben knew she visited the grave, but during all the time they’d been apart she’d never come across him until that day which had also been Jamie’s birthday.

She’d turned back to the labour of love that had brought her there and was arranging the flowers with careful hands on the white marble of their memorial to their son.

When it was done and she’d straightened up and faced him again, he’d said, ‘Nicholas tells me he’s coming to the U.K. in October and is going to be here three months. It will be good to see something of him.’

‘Yes, it will,’ she answered awkwardly, like a schoolgirl in front of the head teacher.

‘Do you want to come back to the house for a drink before you drive back to wherever you’ve come from?’ he asked in the same flat tone as when he’d greeted her. She observed him warily. ‘It was just a thought,’ he explained, and she wanted to weep because of the great divide that separated them.

‘Yes, all right,’ she heard a voice say, and couldn’t believe it was hers. She turned back to the grave once more and dropped a kiss on the headstone, as she always did when leaving, and when she lifted her head, he was striding towards his car.

‘You know the way, of course,’ he said as she approached her own vehicle. She nodded, and without further comment from either of them they drove to the house that had once been their family home.

As she stepped inside, the sadness of what it had become hit her like a sledgehammer. The room began to spin and he caught her in his arms as she slumped towards him.

She rallied almost as soon as he’d reached out for her, but Ben didn’t relax his hold. They were so close she felt his breath on her face as he said, ‘You need to rest a while.’ Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the sofa in the sitting room and laid her on it.

When she tried to raise herself into a sitting position he told her, ‘Stay where you are. I’ll make some tea. A brandy would be the ideal thing but as you’re driving…’

After he’d gone into the kitchen she looked around her and saw that nothing had changed in the place that had once been her home. Furniture, carpets, ornaments were all the same as she’d left them, and she thought numbly that it was them who had changed, Ben and herself, heartbreakingly and irrevocably.

Jamie had been taken from them in a tragic accident, and with his going their ways of grieving had not been the same. Hers had taken the form of a great sadness that she’d borne in silence, while Ben had been filled with anger at what he saw as the injustice of it, and it had turned him into someone she didn’t recognise.

Instead of comforting each other, they had become suffering strangers and in the end, unable to bear it any longer, she’d asked for a divorce. Still fighting his despair, he’d agreed.

He’d offered her the house but she’d said no as it wasn’t a home to her any more. She’d packed her bags and gone to take up a position as a GP in a pretty Cheshire village that was far away from the horror of those months after Jamie had drowned.

When Ben came back with the tea he put the cup and saucer down and, with his arm around her shoulders, bent to raise her upright. ‘I never expected to see you actually here in the house again when I set off for the cemetery.’

‘Neither did I,’ she murmured, and as she looked up at him their gazes met and held, mirroring sadness, pain, confusion…and something else.

There was no sense or reason in what happened next. He bent and kissed her and after the first amazed moment she kissed him back, and then it became urgent, a tidal wave of emotion sweeping them along, and they made love on the sofa on a surreal August afternoon.

When it was over, he watched without speaking as she flung on her clothes, and when she rushed out of the house and into her car, he made no attempt to follow her.

It wasn’t until after Nicholas had come to stay that Georgina had realised she was pregnant. She’d been feeling off colour for a while, nauseous and light-headed, but busy as ever at the practice hadn’t thought much of missing her monthly cycle as she had always been irregular, initially putting it down to stress.

All the signs had been there—tender breasts, tiredness, morning sickness—and she’d faced up to it with a mixture of dawning wonder and dismay while carefully concealing it from her house guest. It hadn’t been too difficult as, although she’d been five months along by the time he’d returned to America in the New Year, she’d barely shown at the time. Even James hadn’t realised until she’d told him. Now, however, at eight months, her bump was there for all to see.

Knowing Nicholas, he would have felt he had to tell Ben if he’d found out about the baby, she’d thought, and she’d needed time to adjust to the situation that had come upon her so suddenly. Every time she thought about the wild, senseless passion that they’d given in to on that August afternoon, she wanted to weep. They’d lost a child born in love and gentleness. Under what circumstances had this one been conceived— loneliness, opportunism?

As the weeks had passed, the knowledge that she wasn’t being fair to Ben had pressed down on her like a leaden weight until the night she’d written the letter. After that she’d felt better, and had begun the ritual of watching out for the postman every morning, but there’d been no reply.

She could have called him. It might have been easier. But she was afraid that she might give herself away on the phone, and she just had to tell him face to face. No matter how they’d parted after losing Jamie.

It had been Jamie’s attachment to his football that had sent him careering over the edge of the riverbank. The ball had started to roll down the slope where she’d parked the car for the two of them to have a picnic.

She’d turned away to lift a folding chair out of the boot, and as she’d been erecting it had seen him, oblivious to danger and ignoring her warning to keep away from the edge, running towards the swollen river.

It had all happened in a matter of seconds and as she’d flung herself down the slope after him and shrieked for him to stop, he hadn’t heard her above the noise of the fast-flowing water.

She’d nearly lost her life trying to save their son and when she’d been dragged half-dead from the river to discover that she was going to have to carry on living without him, she’d wished that she’d died, too.

Ben gazed at the letter in his hand. Each time Nicholas had visited since that August afternoon, he had asked him where he could find Georgina, but he’d reluctantly refused to tell, explaining that she’d made him promise never to pass on that information.

It hadn’t been hard to believe when Ben recalled how she’d never come near the house apart from that one time when he’d found her at Jamie’s grave. Whenever he’d seen fresh white roses on it he’d known that she’d been just a stone’s throw away from the home they’d shared together, and the despair that had become more of a dull ache than the raw wound it had been during those first awful months would wash over him.

He’d thought bleakly that what had happened between them on the day he’d caught her unawares in the cemetery hadn’t seemed to have made Georgina relent at all, and if Nicholas wasn’t prepared to break his word to her, it was going to be stalemate.

On his last night in London his young brother had asked, ‘Why are you so keen to find Georgina afer all this time?’ And because there had been no way he was going to tell him what had happened, Ben had fobbed him off by telling him that some insurance in both their names had matured.

That had been in early January, and when Nicholas had flown back home Ben had gone to work in Scandinavia for a short while. He’d always been somewhat of a workaholic, even before their marriage had broken up, getting a lot of satisfaction out of helping sick children and being able to give Georgina and Jamie some of the good things in life at the same time.

When their life together had foundered after losing their son he’d immersed himself in his work more and more, and had spent less and less time at home. Without Jamie it wasn’t a home any more.

When Georgina had asked for a divorce he’d agreed, because he’d felt their life together was over. They’d had no comfort to offer each other—he, because of the terrible bitterness inside him, and she because she felt responsible for what had happened.

But that day in August he’d discovered that their feelings weren’t dead. There was still a spark there. It had been sweet anguish making love to the only woman he’d ever wanted, and he wasn’t going to rest until he saw her again.

He’d gone to Scandinavia with less than his usual enthusiasm, because he was frustrated and miserable to think that she’d come back into his life and given him hope and then disappeared into the unknown once more.

Now he was home again, and amongst the mail that had accumulated during his absence was the envelope with Georgina’s handwriting on it. With heartbeat quickening, he opened the letter.

The brief communication inside said that she needed to talk to him as soon as possible, and it went on to say that she would come to London if he wished. No way, he thought. He’d waited a long time to find out where she’d gone, and now the opportunity was here.

She hadn’t used the word urgent, but there was something about the wording of the letter that conveyed it to him, and as the postmark on it was from weeks ago he immediately began planning how quickly he could get to this Willowmere place in Cheshire.

Ben was freelance, and not attached to any particular hospital, so there were no arrangements to make at his end. After a quick snack, and a phone call to arrange overnight accommodation at a place in Willowmere called the Pheasant, he was ready for the off, warning the landlord that he would be arriving in the early hours.

As she did on most evenings when she’d eaten, Georgina set off for a short stroll beside the river. A heron, king of the birdlife, familiar to all the village folk, was perched motionless on its favourite stone in the middle of the water when she got there, and she remembered how when she’d first moved to Willowmere she’d had to steel herself to look at the Goyt as it skipped along its stony bed.

As the last rays of the sun turned the skyline to gold she felt the child inside her move and wondered if it was going to be a son to follow the one they’d lost or a baby girl with the same dark hair and eyes as her parents.

She knew that under normal circumstances Ben would be over the moon at the thought of another child, but normal would have been as a brother or sister for Jamie and he was no longer with them.

They’d created a new life in those moments of wild abandon and it should be a source of joy for them both, but as it stood now he knew nothing about it.

She saw that the lights were on in the surgery as she walked back to the cottage and brought her thoughts back to the situation there. Would James find suitable replacements tonight for Anna and Glenn?

After a bath and a hot drink, she was tucked up in bed half an hour later and thinking drowsily that for half the population the night would only just be beginning, but tomorrow would be another busy day for her and James.

She awoke in the early hours to the noise of a car pulling up on the quiet lane below, but didn’t get up to investigate. Instead she snuggled lower under the bed-covers with her eyes closed. The doors were locked, the burglar alarm on. Whoever it might be, she was too sleepy to check them out.

As he’d driven through the Cheshire countryside, Ben had thought wryly that Georgina had certainly intended to put some distance between them by coming here, and she’d also chosen a beautiful place to come to.

He’d seen a lake glinting through trees in the light of a full moon as he’d approached the village, and as he’d drawn nearer had seen that the main street was made up of cottages built from limestone next to quaint shops that made the present-day supermarket seem an uninteresting place by comparison.

He’d arrived earlier than expected, and had stopped briefly outside Georgina’s cottage on a lane at the end of the village after receiving directions from an elderly man.

The curtains were drawn, for which he’d been thankful, as it was hardly the hour to be calling. After choking back the overwhelming feeling of regret for all the wasted years they’d spent, he’d driven off into the night to find his accommodation.

Knowing as he did so that ever since he’d found Georgina in the cemetery and persuaded her to go back to the house, then made love to her like some madman, he’d been aching to see her again. Desperate to tell her how he regretted the way he’d behaved when they’d lost Jamie.

He’d been like someone demented and had vented his desolation on to her, as if she hadn’t been suffering, too. If he’d been in charge, the tragedy would never have happened, he’d told her at times when he’d been at his lowest ebb, and it had been as if the love they’d shared had also died.

It hadn’t been until in bitter despair she’d asked for a divorce and left because she’d been unable to stand it any more that he’d faced up to what he’d done to her.

He’d given her the divorce, couldn’t for shame not to after the way he’d behaved, and ever since then had longed to have her back in his life. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was for forsaking her when she’d needed him, for being so selfishly wrapped up in his own grief without a thought for hers, and to explain how meeting her that day had brought all his longing to the surface in an enormous wave of passion.

There’d always been amazing sexual chemistry between them, but after losing Jamie they’d never made love, so estranged had they become. Now he was going to try to rebuild the marriage that had crumbled, and maybe Georgina wanting to talk was a step in the right direction.

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN Georgina looked through the window the next morning, there was no car to be seen so she concluded it must have driven off after stopping for a moment.

After a shower and a nourishing breakfast she was ready to leave, and with the car already outside from the previous day, she was about to slide into the driver’s seat when she looked up and saw a man walking towards her along the deserted lane.

He was tall and dark-haired with a trim physique. As he approached she stared at him in disbelief and when he stopped at the bottom of her drive and said, ‘Hello, Georgina,’ in the same tone of voice as on that day in August, her legs turned to jelly.

‘So did you get my letter?’ she croaked from behind the car door.

‘Yes, but only a few hours ago,’ he said evenly. ‘It had been lying unopened behind my door for weeks. I’ve been abroad recently. So what’s the problem, Georgina? What do you want to talk to me about?’

So far the car door was concealing her pregnancy but she couldn’t stay behind it for ever, and with a sudden desire to shatter his calm she pushed it shut. Looking down at her spreading waistline, she said, ‘I want to talk to you about this.’

It was Ben’s turn to be dumbfounded. ‘You’re pregnant!’ he gasped. ‘Oh! My God! You’re with someone else! Why didn’t Nick tell me?’

‘Nicholas didn’t tell you because there was nothing to tell,’ she informed him steadily. ‘He doesn’t know I’m pregnant, and as for the rest, there is no one else in my life. I am on my own and prefer it that way. You are the one who has made me pregnant, Ben. Maybe you recall an afternoon in August.’

Recall it? he thought raggedly. He would never forget it as long as he lived, the softness of her in his arms again, his mouth on hers, her desire matching his. Hope had been born in him that day.

It was why he had come to the place where Georgina had made a new life for herself, hoping that the matter she wanted to discuss was getting back together. Only here she was, carrying his child and making it very clear she hadn’t been having any such thoughts. Yet nothing she said could take away the joy of knowing that those moments of madness were going to bring a new life into the world, another child to cherish. It wouldn’t ever replace Jamie in his heart, but there would be no shortage of tenderness and love for this one…if he was given the chance.

‘What happened that afternoon was the last thing I intended,’ she told him as they faced each other on the drive. ‘Nothing was further from my mind, and now I’m carrying the result of what we did.’

‘And you aren’t happy about it?’

‘Yes, of course I am. I’m happy that I’m going to have another child. It is a privilege I never anticipated, but after losing Jamie and the dreadful aftermath, I’m not intending to change my lifestyle as it is now, except for doing fewer hours at the practice maybe.’

‘Fair enough,’ he said evenly, stepping to one side as she slid behind the wheel. ‘And is this baby that you’ve been keeping to yourself going to get to know its father as it grows up?’

‘If our lives had been as they were before we lost Jamie, it would have been ecstasy to tell you that I was pregnant,’ she said sadly. ‘Because our child would have been conceived in love, like he was. But it wasn’t like that, was it? Too much water has flowed under the bridge since the days when we lived for each other and him.’

‘But you were prepared to tell me that you’re pregnant, Georgina, though in your own time. I suppose it could have been worse. I could have arrived to find you pushing a pram. And so is my part in this going to be sitting on the fence?’

‘No, of course not,’ she said, choking on the words. ‘It’s just that I couldn’t go through what I suffered before if anything should happen to this child. I understood your despair but you never tried to understand mine. You shut me out, Ben, and it broke my spirit. Since I’ve come to Willowmere I’ve found a degree of comfort in the place and its people, but no one knows my past and that is how I would prefer it to stay.’

‘So you don’t want anyone to know that we were once husband and wife?’

‘I’m not bothered about that, and in any case it’s a problem that won’t arise as you won’t be around.’

‘Don’t be too sure about that,’ he said dryly. ‘I’m my own boss these days, and am due for a break anyway.’

Ignoring his comment and its implications, she expained, ‘It’s the reason for the divorce that I don’t want to be common knowledge. I don’t want anything to spoil Jamie’s memory.’

‘You can rest assured that I, of all people, won’t be telling anyone why we broke up,’ he said grimly. ‘But, Georgina, I feel you need to know that if I had any intention of my stay here being brief, it won’t be now. I’m going to be around until the birth and after, so please take note of that.’

He was stepping away from the car and, as she began to drive slowly out onto the road, he called through the open window, ‘When I’ve settled my account at the pub I’m going home to tie up all the loose ends and then I’ll be back. I’m not sure when, but I will be coming back.’

She had no reply to that. Still numb with the shock of seeing him strolling towards her along the lane, she left him standing at her gate.

As she pulled up outside the surgery, Georgina’s thoughts were in chaos. There was relief that Ben now knew about the baby, tied up with panic at the thought of him coming to Willowmere and invading the solitary, safe life she had made for herself. Beneath it all there was a glimmer of happiness, because in spite of the circumstances, she’d given him something to be joyful about.

She did wish he’d let her know he was coming, though, so she could have greeted him with calmness in her sitting room, dressed in something that would have concealed her pregnancy during the first few moments of meeting, instead of hovering behind the car door in a state of shock.

Yet her surprise had been nothing compared to his when he’d realised she was pregnant, and straight away jumped to the conclusion that she was in a relationship with someone else.

James was at the surgery before her but, then, he always was, for the good reason that he lived next door. After they’d greeted each other, she asked how the interviews of the evening before had gone, hoping to bring normality into a very strange morning.

‘I’ve found an excellent replacement for Anna,’ he told her, observing her keenly, ‘but there was no one that I could visualise as a new partner. I feel it might be wise to leave that until Glenn comes back to Willowmere. So it looks as if we might be turning to a locum again for the time being.

‘And what about you?’ he asked with a smile. ‘How are you today, Georgina? You’re very pale. Is the baby behaving itself?’

She managed a grimace of a smile. Apart from Beth, the remaining practice nurse, James was the only one who ever mentioned her pregnancy. Everyone observed a lot, but no one actually said anything outright and she wondered just how curious the locals were about her pregnancy.

With regard to herself, she’d been coping just as long as she didn’t let her mind travel back to that afternoon in the sitting room of the house where she’d once known such happiness. But that frail cocoon had been torn apart just an hour ago when Ben had appeared and discovered why she’d wanted to talk to him.

James, in his caring way, had noted that she wasn’t her usual self and suddenly she knew that she had to tell someone what had happened before she’d arrived at the surgery. She couldn’t keep her life under wraps any longer if Ben was going to be around.

‘My ex-husband turned up this morning,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I didn’t know which of us was the most dumbfounded, though for different reasons. I had no idea he was coming, and on his part he had no idea I was pregnant.’

‘Poor you!’ James exclaimed. ‘How long is it since you saw him?’

‘It had been three years, until we met unexpectedly eight months ago.’

‘And you are about eight months pregnant,’ he said slowly.

‘Yes,’ she agreed flatly, ‘the baby is his.’

‘And what does he think about that?’

‘He is delighted.’

‘So is that good?’

‘It might have been once.’

‘I see. Well, Georgina, I don’t want to pry into your affairs, but I’m here if you need me. Obviously you have a lot on your mind. Do you want to take the day off?’

She shook her head. ‘No, thanks, James. I need to keep myself occupied. I will remember what you’ve just said. You are a true friend.’ And before she burst into humiliating tears, she went to start another day at the village practice.

‘By the way,’ he called after her as she went towards her room, ‘St Gabriel’s have phoned with appointments for Christine Quarmby. The neurologist will see her on Thursday and the rheumatologist the following day.’

She paused. ‘That’s brilliant. I pulled a few strings and it seems that it worked. I’m very concerned about Christine. I just hope my fears for her aren’t realised. On a happier note, have you heard from Anna and Glenn yet?’

‘Yes. They’ve arrived safely and are already working hard.’ James filled her in on Anna and Glenn’s assignment before she went to her room and called in her first patient of the day, grateful to have her mind taken off the shock of seeing Ben again.

The day progressed along its usual lines, with Beth still managing but relieved to know that a replacement for Anna had been found. The two nurses had been great friends and Anna had been delighted when James had taken on Beth’s daughter, Jess, as nanny for his two young children.

The children were fond of Jess. Aware that she was going to be missing from their lives for the first time since they’d been born, Anna had been happy to know before she’d left Willowmere that the arrangement was working satisfactorily.

Georgina’s second patient was Edwina Crabtree. She was one of the bellringers in Willowmere who helped send the bells high in the church tower pealing out across the village on Sunday mornings and at weddings and funerals, but it wasn’t her favourite pastime that she’d come to discuss with her doctor

‘So what can I do for you, Miss Crabtree?’ Georgina asked the smartly dressed campanologist, who always observed her more critically than most when their paths crossed. She had a feeling that Edwina had her catalogued as a loose woman as she was pregnant with no man around, and thought wryly that loose was the last word to describe her.

She was tied to the past, to a small fair-haired boy who hadn’t seen danger when it had been there, and ‘tied’ to the man who had been hurting so much at the time that he’d become a stranger instead of a rock to hold on to.

Edwina was in full spate and, putting her own thoughts to one side, Georgina tuned into what she was saying, otherwise the other woman was going to have her labelled incompetent, as well as feckless.

‘The side of my neck is bothering me,’ she was explaining, ‘just below my ear. I didn’t take much notice at first but the feeling has been there for quite some time and I decided I ought to have it looked at.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Georgina told her. After examining her neck carefully and checking eyes, ears and throat, she asked, ‘Do you ever get indigestion?’

‘All the time,’ she replied stiffly, ‘but surely it can’t be connected with that. I thought you would just give me some antibiotics.’

‘Before anything else I want you to have the tests and we’ll take it from there, Miss Crabtree. If you are clear of the stomach infection, it will be a matter of looking elsewhere for the neck problem, but we’ll deal with that when we get to it.’

When she’d gone, looking somewhat chastened, Georgina sighed. Oh, for a simple case of lumbago or athlete’s foot, she thought. Edwina Crabtree had the symptoms of Helicobacter pylori, bacteria in the stomach that created excess acid and could cause peptic ulcers and swellings like the one in the bellringer’s neck.

Christine Quarmby, on the other hand, had all the signs of Sjögren’s syndrome, an illness with just as strange a name but far more serious, and she was beginning to wonder what strange ailment she was going to be consulted on next.

Willow Lake, a local beauty spot, was basking in the shafts of a spring sun behind the hedgerows as Georgina drove to her first housecall later in the morning, and she thought how the village, with its peace and tranquillity, had done much to help her find sanity in the mess that her life had become.

As the months had become years she’d expected that one day Nicholas would inform her that Ben had found someone else and it would bring closure once and for all, but she’d been spared that last hurt, and now incredibly he seemed determined to come back into her life. She couldn’t help wondering if he would feel the same if she wasn’t pregnant.

Robert Ingram owned the biggest of Willowmere’s two estate agencies and he had asked for a home visit to his small daughter, Sophie. The request had been received shortly after morning surgery had finished and Georgina was making it her first call.

Apparently Sophie had developed a temperature during the night and a rash was appearing in small red clusters behind her ears, under her armpits and in her mouth.

From her father’s description the rash was nothing like the dreaded red blotches of meningitis, but she wasn’t wasting any time in getting to the young patient. She never took chances with anyone she was called on to treat, and children least of all.

When Alison, Robert’s wife, took her up to the spacious flat above the business Georgina found the little girl to be hot and fretful and the rash that her father had described was beginning to appear in other places besides the ones he’d mentioned.

‘It’s chickenpox,’ she announced when she’d had a close look at the spots. ‘Have you had any experience of it before, Mrs Ingram?’

‘Yes. I had it when I was young,’ Alison replied. ‘My mother had me wearing gloves to stop me from scratching when the spots turned to blisters.’

‘Good idea,’ Georgina agreed, ‘or alternatively keep Sophie’s nails very short, and dab the rash with calamine lotion. She should be feeling better once they’ve all come to the surface, and in the meantime give her paracetamol if the raised temperature persists. Has Sophie started school yet?’

‘She goes to nursery school twice each week and is due to start in the main stream in September,’ her mother replied.

‘We’ve had a few cases of chickenpox over the last couple of weeks,’ Georgina informed her, ‘so the infection is with us, it would seem. Sophie should be fine in a few days, but if there is anything at all that you are concerned about, send for me straight away.’ She gave a reassuring smile to the anxious mother. ‘I’ll see myself out.’

When she went downstairs into the shop area she told Robert Ingram, ‘I’m afraid that Sophie has got chickenpox, Mr Ingram. The rash is appearing quite quickly and she will feel much better when it is all out. But I’ve told your wife if either of you have any worries about her, don’t hesitate to send for me.’

He nodded. ‘Thanks, Doctor. I’m relieved that it is nothing more serious.’ And they both knew what had been in his mind.

As she was about to leave, Robert didn’t mention that he’d had someone in earlier, arranging to rent the cottage next door to hers for a minimum period of six months. He thought that Georgina would surely feel happier if the other property was occupied, as they were the only two buildings on Partridge Lane.

As he’d watched her drive off that morning Ben had felt shock waves washing over him. How could Georgina have waited so long to tell him that they were going to be parents again? he’d thought dismally. Yet knew the answer even as he asked himself the question.

Georgina had been the butt of his grief and despair when they’d lost Jamie and it would seem she hadn’t been prepared to risk a repeat performance by letting him into her life again when they were going to have another child.

He’d felt as if his heart had been cut out when it had happened all that time ago, and if anyone had dared tell him that time was a great healer, he’d turned on them angrily. Now he knew that it was so. The pain was still there, but instead of being raw it was a dull ache and there were actually days when he managed not to think about it.

He didn’t know how Georgina had coped over the last three years. When the divorce had come through and she’d disappeared out of his life, the shock of it had brought him to his senses, but not to the extent that he’d done anything about it because he’d been gutted at the way he’d treated her.

Then, unbelievably, they’d met in the cemetery. So what had he done? Without a word of remorse he’d made love to her, and ever since had wanted to tell her all the things he’d never said then.

He’d known that Nicholas knew where she was, that he always stayed with Georgina for part of the time when he was over from the States. Yet until then he’d never tried to persuade him to disclose her whereabouts.

But after that everything had changed, and he’d badgered his young brother for the information with no success.

Now here he was, in the place where she lived, because Georgina had written to him. But if the reception he’d just got was anything to go by, a happy reunion wasn’t on the cards.

It was a sombre thought, but it didn’t stop him from calling in at the estate agent and making arrangements to rent the cottage next to hers. After he’d collected his things from the Pheasant, he set off on the long drive back to London.

The afternoon seemed endless to Georgina as patients attending the second surgery of the day came and went, and when at last it was time to go, James said, ‘I never finished telling you about the new practice nurse. Her name is Gillian Jarvis and she is free to start immediately. I’m expecting her tomorrow morning.

‘Her husband has just taken on the position of Lord Derringham’s estate manager and like the Quarmbys they’ll be living in a grace-and-favour house on the estate. She has a teenage girl at sixth-form college and a younger boy who will attend the village school. The family have moved up north from the Midlands where Gillian was also a practice nurse.

‘I’m relieved that is sorted, but we still need someone to replace Glenn either full or part time. However, I suppose we can hang on for a while until the right person comes along,’ he said, as he made everywhere secure before they left.

James was aware that she was only half listening and asked, ‘Are you going to introduce me to your ex-husband, or will you both still be separate items?’

‘Yes and no,’ she told him. ‘Ben has gone back to London, but he intends to return. I don’t know where he’s going to stay, and neither do I know how he’s going to fill his time. But he told me that with regard to work, he’s a free agent, and he needs a break. He also said that he’s going to be there for the birth and afterwards.’

And how could she object? It was his child as much as hers. But it wouldn’t be like it had been with Jamie. They’d been a family, a happy threesome, wrapped around with love. This time it would be two separate families. Mother and child as one of them, and father with his child the other.

James was observing her sympathetically and she smiled sadly. ‘I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.’

What she’d said to James was still uppermost in her mind as Georgina took her evening stroll later that day. Her baby was going to know its father, as she didn’t doubt for a moment that Ben would be back. He’d made that crystal clear. It would be as an older, more sombre version of the husband she’d adored, but a loving father nevertheless.

As she’d told James, she didn’t know where he was going to stay. But it couldn’t be with her. They might be about to start a new family, but it didn’t mean she was going to accept that as a reason for pretending anything that wasn’t there.

When she turned to wend her homeward way in the quiet evening the silence was broken by a train en route for the city, travelling across the aqueduct high above the river. Once it had gone there was peace once more down below, and a fisherman engaged in one of the quietest of sporting activities cast his rod over the dancing water.

* * *

It was two days later. Georgina had done some shopping in the village on her way home—meat from the butcher’s, fresh bread and vegetables from the baker’s and greengrocer’s—and as was her custom, she went straight through to the kitchen to start preparing the food.

When she glanced through the window, her eyes widened. Ben was mending a gap in the fence between the two cottages, and as if conscious that he was being watched, he looked up and with hammer in hand gave a casual wave then carried on with what he was doing.

She drew back out of sight and hurried to the front of the house. Surely enough, the ‘To Let’ sign had been replaced on the cottage next door to one that said ‘Let by Robert Ingram’.

Ben had never been in the habit of doing things by halves, she thought as she leaned limply against the doorpost. It was one of the reasons why he was so successful in his career. But this time he’d excelled himself.

Not only had he come to live in her village, but he’d taken up residence almost on her doorstep. Obviously he wasn’t intending to miss anything that concerned his pregnant wife and the child she was carrying.

Maybe repairing the gap in the fence was an indication that though he’d sought her out he was going to stay on his own side of the fence, or perhaps on discovering that she was pregnant his interest had moved from mother to child, and until it was born he would be keeping his distance. If either of those things were in his mind, shouldn’t she be relieved?

Contrary to all the thoughts that had been going through her mind since they’d met at her gate, she went out into the garden and, leaning over the fence, said stiffly, ‘I’ve bought steaks and fresh vegetables and it’s just as easy to cook for two as for one. It will be ready in about half an hour if you want to join me.’

He paused in the act of hammering a nail in and looking up, said, ‘Er…thanks for the offer, but I’ve been shopping myself and have a lasagne in the oven.’ He hesitated. ‘It’s big enough for two. It would save you cooking after a busy day at the practice.’

Taken aback by the suggestion, she gazed at him blankly and he groaned inwardly. After the other day’s chilly welcome, he had promised himself that now he was established in the village he would take it slowly with Georgina. Keep in the background but be there if he was needed. So what was he doing?

‘I only made the suggestion because I’ve had cause to discover that it’s no joke coming home to an empty house and having to start cooking after working all day,’ he said into the silence. ‘At one time I was keeping the fast-food counters in the stores going, but that didn’t last.’

His kitchen door was open. She could smell the food cooking and told herself that Ben asking her to dine with him was no different than her asking him over. They were both doing it out of politeness. It didn’t mean anything.

‘Yes, all right,’ she agreed. ‘How long before we eat?’

‘Twenty minutes, if that’s OK?’

‘Yes. It will give me time to shower away the day and change into some comfortable clothes.’ Turning, she went back inside with the feeling that she was making a big mistake.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN Ben opened the door to her twenty minutes later, Georgina stepped into a bare, newly decorated hall that could only be described as stark. When he showed her into the sitting room, it was the same, and a vision of their London house came to mind, spacious, expensively furnished, in the leafy square not far from the park where she’d taken Jamie that day.

Yet Ben was prepared to live in this soulless place and she wondered what was in his mind. He was going to be involved, come what may, but their marriage had foundered long ago. It had hit rock bottom and wasn’t going to rise out of the ashes because they’d made a child.

But that occasion had been the forerunner of an unexpected chain of events that had brought him back into her life. Not because he’d known about the baby. That had really rocked him on his feet. He’d come in reply to her letter. Curious, no doubt, to find his ex-wife surfacing from her hidey-hole.

‘What?’ he asked, observing her expression.

‘This place must seem rather basic after our house in London.’

‘It’s adequate,’ he said dryly. ‘I long since ceased to notice the delights of that place.’ He pointed to a small dining area of the same standard as the rest of the house. ‘If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll dish out the food.’

This is unreal, Georgina thought as Ben brought in a perfectly cooked lasagne and a bowl of salad, yet she had to admit it was nice to sit down to a meal that was ready to eat after a busy day at the practice.

‘So what is there to do in the evenings in this place?’ he asked as he served the food.

‘Well, you already know the Pheasant in the village, which is the centre of the night life. Everyone congregates there to drink and chat in the evenings. Willowmere is a very friendly place, a small community where everyone cares about everyone else.’

‘So you go to the pub every night, then?’

‘I didn’t say that was what I do. My evenings are spent clearing up after my meal and then taking a short walk. This is a beautiful place. I either stroll along the river bank or to Willow Lake, which isn’t far away, and contrary to life in the big city, I’m meeting people I know all the time I’m out there, not just because I’m their doctor but because that’s what village life is all about.’

She didn’t tell him that it had been her lifesaver in the lonely months when she’d first come to live there, when the feeling of no longer being part of the life that she’d once thought would be hers for ever had been unbearable.

‘After that I come home, have a hot drink and go to bed,’ she concluded.

‘So maybe you’ll show me around some of these places that you’re so fond of,’ he said equably, as if not appalled at the similarity of their lives where there was work, lots of it, then coming home to an empty house and a scratch meal, and in his case, watching television for as long as he could stand it before going up to the bed they’d once shared.

‘Maybe,’ she said noncommittally. ‘I suppose you think my life here sounds dull, but it is what I want. I don’t ever want another relationship with anyone, Ben. Any love I have to spare will be for my baby.’

‘Our baby!’ he corrected, as his spirits plummeted.

‘Yes, indeed. I’m sorry, Ben. It will be ours, yours and mine,’ she agreed, ‘but don’t have expectations about anything else.’

‘I won’t,’ he told her steadily, and steered the conversation into other channels. ‘You haven’t asked me what I’m going to do jobwise while I’m here.’

‘No, I haven’t, though I have wondered.’

‘Don’t concern yourself. I’ll find something. Do you need any help at the practice or are you fully staffed?’

She gazed at him, open-mouthed. ‘We do have a vacancy, but that would be coming down a peg, wouldn’t it? I’ve seen your name mentioned a few times regarding paediatric surgery. You’re a high-flyer these days, aren’t you?’

‘Some people might think so,’ he replied dryly, and thought that though he might be good at his job, when it came to coping with grief he’d fallen flat on his face. ‘It was just a thought. But if you don’t want me around during your working day, just say so. What sort of a position are we talking about?’

‘We need another doctor.’

‘I see. Interesting. But don’t be alarmed, Georgina. I’m not going to crowd you.’

‘Not much!’

‘You mean my moving in next door?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘I’ve rented the place so I will be close at hand if you need me when the baby comes.’

‘Right.’

‘What? Don’t you believe me?’

‘Yes, of course I do,’ she said. ‘I’m sure on some wakeful night on our child’s part I will be grateful to have you near, but don’t take me too much for granted, Ben.’

He didn’t reply. Instead he said, ‘Shall we take our coffee into the deluxe sitting room of my new accommodation?’

They spent the rest of the time together talking about the village and when he mentioned the practice again, and the part she played in it, she answered his questions warily.

‘This James Bartlett sounds a decent guy,’ he remarked. ‘I’d like to meet him. Is he married?’

‘James lost his wife in a motor accident five years ago, just a few weeks after she’d given birth to twins. Pollyanna and Jolyon are in their first year at the village school.’

‘And he’s never remarried?’

‘No. James and the children live next door to the surgery with an excellent nanny and housekeeper to help out. His sister, Anna, was a nurse in the practice until she married a locum who was with us, and now they’ve left and gone to work in Africa, leaving James with two replacements to find.

‘He’s found someone to fill the gap of practice nurse but is hanging fire with the doctor vacancy, saying that he might wait until Glenn Hamilton, his sister’s new husband, comes back from Africa to offer him a permanent placing, and in the meantime employ someone on a temporary basis as he did with him originally.’

‘It puts more strain on you both, doesn’t it, leaving the gap unfilled?’ She was getting up to go, feeling they’d talked about the practice enough, and he said, ‘You’ve missed your walk tonight, haven’t you? I’m surprised that it takes you by the river. I would have thought it the last place to appeal to you.’

She turned away, thinking that she might have known that Ben would still be out to give her memory a nudge given the chance, and was tempted to tell him that she needed no reminders of what had happened to Jamie and never would.

‘A river only becomes a dangerous place because of the elements above and the actions of those of us at its level,’ she said in a voice so low he could only just hear it.

If he’d wanted to reply, he didn’t get the chance as she was opening the door and telling him, ‘Thanks for the meal, Ben.’ Then she was gone, out into the spring dusk and back to the place where she’d felt content until now.

Ben watched her go from the window and felt like kicking himself for his apparent insensitivity. He hadn’t meant it to be a hurtful comment. It had been said more out of consideration for her feelings, but in the past that hadn’t always been the case and he couldn’t blame Georgina for freezing up on him.

He’d been congratulating himself that he’d been making progress in getting to know his wife all over again but he’d blown it. Resisting the urge to go after her he turned away from the window, deciding that he’d already been guilty of one moment of bad timing—no point in risking another.

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