Christmas in Bluebell Cove (7 page)

‘Yes, I do,' she murmured as their arousal increased until she could think of nothing else but how she wanted him to bring her to the climax that she always achieved when they made love, and he did, until at last they lay content in each other's arms.

Ethan was the first to speak and she smiled when he said, ‘I'm going to pull my bed across next to yours so that it's the equivalent of a double. I want you close through the night without us being cramped. OK?'

‘Yes, OK,' she replied dreamily, with the delightful feeling that at last all was well with her world. Ethan had come to France for the weekend without persuasion and had enjoyed every moment he'd been there with her. Was the nightmare going to end and her parents' lovely home be filled with noise and laughter once more? She had a feeling that it was.

 

The flights for him and the children were for the Sunday night because it was school on Monday morning and he and Francine didn't want them to be no sooner home
than having to go straight to school without time to eat and change into their uniforms, so on the off chance of flying back with them she rang the airport and managed to change her ticket.

She'd been up in the clouds all day after spending the night with Ethan and every time their glances met, her heartbeat quickened. The two of them had gone sightseeing in the morning, cruising on the river again afterwards, and had finally had afternoon tea in a small restaurant near the Eiffel Tower that served excellent food, before collecting Kirstie and Ben who'd spent the day with a group of the friends they'd met at their French school. And all the time Francine was rejoicing inwardly because Ethan was coming round to her way of thinking.

When he commented that the children were not supposed to know anyone on this side of the Channel, she just smiled and told him, ‘Their reluctance to come here to live was mainly because you wouldn't be here. They can cope with living with me in Thimble Cottage because it is only yards away from where you are.'

 

There'd been no time for any really in-depth discussion after that with Kirstie and Ben around, so the bubble didn't burst until they were back in Bluebell Cove and the children were asleep. It was then that Francine went across to discuss the weekend's happenings with Ethan.

She found him on the phone to Leo and when he'd replaced the receiver he said soberly, ‘No joy from that end. Leo could be absent for some time. You will be most welcome to join us at the surgery, Francine.'

‘Er—yes, I suppose so,' she agreed doubtfully, ‘but
in the meantime you will have to make some arrangements for when we've gone.'

He was observing her warily. ‘Gone where, Francine?'

‘To Paris, of course. That is what was behind you coming to join me, wasn't it? The reason why we—' Her voice trailed away and there was a sinking feeling inside her as she said slowly. ‘Did you make love to me just for the fun of it?'

‘Of course not!' he exclaimed. ‘I would never do that in a thousand years.'

‘So why then? Not because you cared enough to make my dream come true obviously. It was just a one-off, was it?'

‘No. It was not. When I came into the bedroom last night you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and no matter what, you were still mine. That was why, not for any other reason. To sleep with you wasn't why I'd followed you to France.'

‘It was because I felt bad about the way we'd separated down on the beach and didn't want to have to wait until Monday before I saw you again. And with regard to me moving to France with you, how in the name of God can I? We've been through this a thousand times and it's not going to change, Francine. I can't do it.'

‘You could if you tried.'

‘Oh, yes? The practice in Bluebell Cove isn't clinical and impersonal like those in town centres. It's a place where friends meet friends, where they know their doctors, see them in the street and the pub, and are relaxed in their presence.

‘When Barbara Balfour retired there was no problem in finding a replacement. They knew me almost as well
as they'd known her, but it wouldn't be that simple if
I went.

‘Leo hasn't been here long. He hasn't enough experience of general practice to take over,
and
he's bogged down with family commitments. There is no one else who would be suitable. Our patients wouldn't take well to a stranger.

‘Maybe sometime in the future a solution will present itself, but for now I just can't consider upping sticks and moving to France. I'm sorry, but that is how it is, Francine.'

‘Fair enough,' she said flatly. ‘So it's back to square one.'

‘I'm afraid so—and what about tomorrow?'

‘What about it? If you're referring to me working part time at the surgery again, we've already had that discussion, Ethan. What time do you want me there?'

‘Eight o'clock, please.'

She was already turning to go and gave him a cool nod of agreement. before returning to the cottage to weep out her disappointment.

 

There were a few raised eyebrows amongst the staff when Dr Lomax's chic French wife appeared the next morning with the news that she was about to join them in the capacity of part-time doctor.

When the man himself arrived looking somewhat frazzled after a sleepless night and having cut himself while shaving, she was already installed in the smallest of the consulting rooms after checking first that it wasn't in use by anyone else. And now, after clearing the desk of a bit of clutter, Francine was seated behind it, waiting for Ethan to arrive.

Of the three practice nurses Jenna was delighted to see her installed at the surgery once more. Lucy, who had been at The Tides Practice for years and was as fiercely loyal to Ethan as she'd been to his predecessor, had been polite but not gushing, and young Maria, the trainee, had flashed her a shy smile when Francine had found the staff gathered in the surgery kitchen, drinking tea, until half past eight arrived when the doors would be opened and morning surgery would commence.

The first thing Ethan did was to look around him for any signs of his wife, and Jenna said, ‘Francine is already installed in the consulting room at the end of the passage, Ethan. What a nice surprise.'

‘Yes, it is, Jenna,' he agreed. ‘We are desperately short of doctors.' He smiled at Millie on Reception. ‘It's just on half past you'd better open up, Millie.' And with only one thing in mind he strode briskly down the passage to the small room at the end.

‘What kept you?' Francine asked from behind the desk when he was framed in the doorway. ‘You aren't usually late.'

‘True,' he replied, ‘but having been awake most of the night, then dozing off just as I was due to get up—' he pointed to a gash on his chin ‘—plus doing this while I was shaving, it meant that I was on the last minute. Did you sleep all right after last night's misunderstanding?'

‘Yes,' she said dryly. ‘Like a top.'

It wasn't true, of course. She'd spent the night tossing and turning and the last thing she'd felt like doing in the spring dawn had been getting up to go and help at the surgery. But a promise was a promise and in spite
of Ethan being around most of the time, it would help take her mind off the disillusion of the night before.

‘So what do you want me to do?' she asked.

‘How about forgive me for upsetting you?'

‘I was referring to this place,' she told him levelly.

‘Yes, of course you were,' he agreed flatly. ‘I want us to share the morning surgery with you seeing as many patients as you feel possible. Obviously they will all have appointments with me as I've been the only doctor available of late, but I'm going to tell Millie to inform them when they arrive that they can see you if they wish and we'll play it from there.

‘By having you to share the workload here, I'll be able to start the house calls sooner and have a short break before afternoon surgery starts. At present there isn't a moment to spare between the two.

‘It's going to be a bit chaotic at first as Millie won't be able to provide us with the patient's notes until she knows which of us they want to see, but hopefully it will gradually sort itself out.'

She nodded. ‘It's quite a while since I was here the last time. Is there anything different I need to know, apart from the fact that this place is ruling our lives?'

It was said without animosity, just as a statement of fact, because after last night's discussion she'd finally given up the dream of them living in France. The cloud she'd been on since they'd made love had disappeared, leaving her in her usual state of limbo.

 

After observing the children's pleasure at being with their French friends again she was convinced that their comments about not liking it there had been more of a youthful ruse to get Ethan and herself as near to each
other as possible, instead of a dislike of life in France, and that knowledge, along with what had happened between him and her, had given her the confidence to start hoping again, only to be brought back down to earth once they were back on English soil.

She'd decided as she'd sat unmoving for hours after leaving him the night before that she wasn't going to change anything with regard to Kirstie and Ben. They were settled back in the village, obviously felt secure regarding their home life, and liked the idea of Thimble Cottage. As for herself, she still had her lonely weekends in Paris to look forward to.

His reply to her comment about the practice ruling their lives had seemed to come from far away, so absorbed had she been in her own thoughts, but it registered just the same as Ethan said in a low voice. ‘It isn't the time or the place to continue last night's discussion, Francine. Can I leave you to start your first day back in another part of Bluebell Cove where you are needed badly?'

‘Yes, of course,' she said flatly. ‘I'm ready and waiting.'

 

They were filtering through, mostly women patients, some of whom she knew from before, others were new.

Mary Carradine was someone she hadn't seen before and the smart elderly woman said on entering, ‘I'm so pleased to have the chance to speak to a doctor of my own sex. I don't get embarrassed easily, I've been around too long for that, but I have got a little problem that I would rather discuss with you than a male doctor,
basically because men don't have my kind of problem as they haven't got a cervix.'

‘I had a hysteroscopy a few weeks ago and though the gynaecologist at the hospital said the tissue around the cervix was amazingly healthy for my age, when I got a copy of the report that he'd sent here it said that I'd got chronic cervicitis, which seemed odd after what he'd previously told me.'

‘When I questioned it with the hospital I was informed that they would want to see me again in case they decided that a biopsy was needed with a view to cauterising the cervix. I'm due at the gynaecology clinic on Wednesday and felt I'd like to speak to someone here before I go.'

‘I can understand your concern,' Francine told her. ‘Our copy of the letter you received is in your file and I read it before I called you in, Mrs Carradine. First of all may I explain that of the two descriptions, acute and chronic, that might be used to describe your problem, chronic is the least serious.'

‘In your case it means merely that the entrance to the cervix might need a gentle scrape. Maybe it requires a little tidying up. A scrape is more or less what it sounds like, it's a brief scraping movement to remove any infection in the easiest possible way. So try not to worry too much. Hunter's Hill Hospital has an excellent gynaecology department. You couldn't be in better hands. I shall look forward to hearing from you shortly that you are all sorted and seen to,' she said with a smile.

The patient got to her feet. ‘I'll be glad when it's over,' she said wryly, ‘but you've taken a lot of the worry from me now that I know what is involved. Thank you.' And
off she went, a sprightly eighty-year-old who had been worrying about something she didn't understand.

After that Francine was kept busy for most of the morning, only stopping briefly when Jenna brought her a mug of coffee for elevenses. Ethan appeared just before midday and said, ‘I've seen all my patients and am off on the home visits. There's just one person waiting to see you and then feel free to go. Thanks, Francine, having you here has made all the difference.'

As he went to his car on the practice forecourt he was thinking that it really had made all the difference, not only with the workload. Having her back in the building that she'd been absent from for so long was pure joy, or at least it would be if there was a chance that it would stay that way.

He wished he knew what the future held for them. Of one thing he
was
sure—he could not bear to lose her. Yet he doubted she felt the same way about him, especially after the way he'd allowed her to misunderstand his motive when he'd followed her to Paris and they'd slept together.

Sadly it hadn't been because he was ready to move to France. The opportunity to do that just wasn't going to present itself. He'd followed her there for the reason he'd given her, because of those moments on the beach on Friday night.

It had been like it used to be, the chemistry they'd created had been like an electric current moulding them into one. Because she'd felt it too, Francine had prevented what might have happened if they'd stayed down there with the comment about the divorce, and she couldn't have chosen a better dampener to put out the fire than that!

Yet he'd known that the spark was still there, and all he'd been able to think about had been how much he wanted to be near her again to prove to himself that he hadn't imagined it.

What had happened when they'd shared a room had been proof positive that he hadn't, but he'd made a mess of it by giving her the impression he'd gone over to her way of thinking about living in France and it had turned sour.