Christmas in Bluebell Cove (8 page)

 

Francine left the surgery at one o'clock. Ethan had phoned to say that he would be back shortly and for her to go whenever she wanted. Feeling the need of some time to herself away from her problems and those of others all morning at the surgery, she went across to the baker's and bought a sandwich and a cold drink, and in the sunshine of the spring afternoon decided to walk to the woods that lay behind the village for a quiet lunch.

As she was leaving the road to take the path that would lead her to them she didn't see Ethan's car approaching in the distance because she was too taken up with the bluebells all around her, but he'd caught a flash of white from the blouse she was wearing with a smart suit and pulled up on the grass verge at the entrance to the woods.

When she heard a twig break somewhere behind her she turned quickly, startled at the sound, and he called, ‘Hi, Francine, it's me. I caught a glimpse of you as I was coming up the road. What are you doing here? It's a beautiful spot but a bit off the beaten track.'

‘I wanted some peace, some quiet time, so I've brought my lunch with me,' she told him. ‘It's such a
beautiful day, too special to be inside when one doesn't have to be. Are
you
going to have time to eat?'

‘Just about. I picked up a slice of fruit cake at one of the farm restaurants and a carton of soup. A lot of farms are going into catering these days, and very successfully too.'

She was moving towards the shade of an old oak tree that was a mass of fresh greenery and settling herself on a wooden bench nearby waited to see what he would do.

The memory of how they'd made love in the master bedroom of the house that he wouldn't agree to make his home was bitter-sweet. She would never come alive in any other man's arms as she did in his, but she'd been misled, hadn't she? Or maybe been too eager to believe what she'd wanted to believe.

It was an opportunity not to be missed, Ethan reflected. He had half an hour to spare before the afternoon surgery commenced so why not join her for lunch?

As if reading his mind, she said, ‘Won't your soup be getting cold?'

He shook his head. ‘It's in a special container that keeps it warm so I'm going to join you.' He felt her stiffen beside him and said reassuringly, ‘To give you the chance to report on what you thought of the surgery this morning. I noticed that quite a few of our women patients drifted in your direction when they were told they had a choice.'

‘It was good,' she told him as she munched on the sandwich. ‘The time went very quickly for one thing, which it hasn't been doing of late, and being back on the job got the adrenaline going. Why don't you let
me do some of the house calls when I've got settled in properly?'

He was smiling. The bright blue of his gaze warmed her cold heart, yet those same eyes had been wary and unapproachable the night before when they'd had yet another of their fruitless discussions about moving to France.

‘Don't tempt me.' he said laughingly, quite unaware of the direction of her thoughts, and after that they ate in silence, as if the brief sharing of interest in the practice was all they had to talk about.

It was quiet in the woods, with only birdsong breaking the silence, and Francine wished she could stay there for ever, but Ethan was checking the time and saying he would have to get back, and when she would have stayed he said firmly, ‘I'll drop you off at Thimble Cottage. It isn't a good idea to stay here on your own.'

She sighed. ‘All right, but there is no one to fuss over me when I'm alone in Paris, is there?'

‘I'm well aware of that, and now the children aren't with you when you're there I don't have a moment's peace of mind. Can't we keep the house just for holidays, and have you back here with us all the time? Surely you don't enjoy spending every weekend on your own in that empty place.'

‘No, I don't enjoy it as a matter of fact,' she said soberly, ‘but as I've already given up most of my dream by living here during the week for the children's sake, and now am helping you out at the surgery, which is a far cry from what I thought I would be doing when
I inherited my parents' house, I am not going to deny myself the short time that I spend there.'

‘Point taken,' he said flatly. ‘And now, if you'll please get in the car, I'll drive you back.'

A
S THE
weeks went by and a golden summer took its course, life fell into a routine that Francine was grateful for in a strange sort of way, with the surgery in the mornings, swimming down in the cove in the afternoons, or driving out into the countryside for a cream tea, and always being back in time for Kirstie and Ben being dropped off from the school bus.

Concerned after watching Ethan arrive home late from the surgery night after night, she'd suggested that he dine with them to save him having to start cooking when he got in, and he hadn't needed to be asked twice as it created the family feeling that there was so little of between Francine and him in the bleak summer of their estrangement. The four of them sitting around the dining table, chatting about what the day had held for each of them, were times to be cherished.

There had been no further meetings like the one they'd had in the woods that day, or passionate nights that only led to further pain and uncertainty. They were both aware they had lawyers working in the background towards a divorce, and neither of them was on the point of changing their mind in spite of the fantastic chemistry between them that night in Paris.

After they'd eaten they would separate and wouldn't see each other until the next morning at the practice, and Ethan would console himself with the thought that at least they'd all been together for a short time.

 

Kirstie and Ben were on holiday in Austria with the school for the first two weeks of the long summer break and Thimble Cottage felt empty without their lively chatter and constant music in the background.

Ethan still came across each weekday evening to eat at her invitation, an invitation that she was having cause to regret as she was feeling low in body and spirit—body especially.

He'd asked her a couple of times if she was all right and concealing her listlessness she'd assured him that she was fine, but the moment he'd gone she'd been curled up on the sofa asleep.

It wasn't affecting her work at the surgery thankfully, but it occurred to her that it might have done if she'd been there to work a full day instead of just the morning. She put her lethargy down to her sadness and anxiety. It was so hard pretending to be indifferent to Ethan, watching him walk away from her every night when in reality all she wanted to do was give in to the temptation of curling up in his arms.

When Tom Appleby, the vicar's teenage son, was passed on to her one morning when Ethan had been called out on an emergency, she was at her most competent in dealing with a serious chest and lung infection that required an immediate X-ray and strong antibiotics to avert pneumonia.

His mother had been with him, anxious and caring, intending to waste no time in taking her son to Hunter's
Hill to be treated when Francine had explained what was needed.

When they'd gone she'd thought supposing it had been Ben in that state and she'd been far away across the Channel? All right, Ethan would have been there for him, but they were equally responsible for their children and living separate lives wasn't the ideal way of achieving that.

Her parents had always been there in togetherness for
her
, a united loving presence in her life. Would they want her to fall short of their example?

When Ethan returned from the callout she was in thoughtful mood but when she told him about young Tom Appleby, he put it down to that as she'd known him since he was a toddler.

 

It was on the day that Kirstie and Ben were due back from Austria that Francine faced up to the fact that she was pregnant. She'd begun to suspect she might be for a while. The signs had been lining up in front of her like soldiers on parade, a couple of missed periods, tiredness, tender breasts, and when nausea was absent, ravenous hunger, none of which could easily be described as symptoms of her underlying sadness over the state of her marriage!

They were all indications to a woman who had been pregnant before that she had conceived, and an early-morning urine sample had confirmed it.

When she'd discovered she was pregnant with Kirstie and Ben they had been moments of pure joy for Ethan and herself, but now it was going to be too complicated and upsetting for that kind of bliss. This precious child was going to be born into a shattered marriage because
its mother had mistaken its father's intentions and in her aching need for his love had given in to it on a balmy spring night in Paris.

 

Today was Saturday and she was giving her trip to France a miss because she hadn't seen the children for two weeks. Ethan had suggested they all go out for a meal in the evening to celebrate their return and she'd agreed.

It would have been ungracious to refuse, but at the back of her mind would be the uncomfortable thought that she might start him thinking if she couldn't face the food. As a doctor he would soon pick up on any physical changes in her if she wasn't careful, and she didn't want the pregnancy brought out into the open until she had adjusted to the new development in her life.

She couldn't see there being any joyful celebrations this time and felt that if no one else in her family wanted to live in the Paris house with her, this new little one was going to, and Ethan was going to find out she'd fallen pregnant only when her condition was so obvious that she couldn't deny it.

 

Ben and Kirstie were home and talking non-stop about the holiday. Ethan had been to meet them at the airport and having them home safe and well and their mother staying in Bluebell Cove for once over the weekend he would have been on top form if it hadn't been for observing Francine's listlessness when she thought no one was looking.

Surely she wasn't missing her weekend in France
so
much? he thought hollowly. She'd been delighted to have the children back and had a smile for him when
he'd arrived with them, so what was the reason for the lethargy?

Yet she seemed happy enough in the French restaurant out along the coast road where he'd booked the meal. The food was excellent and he hoped it would go a little way towards her not having been home, as he was having to accept that Paris was now where she felt her home to be, and it took some swallowing.

But at least tonight they were together as a family again, he thought, and happy or sad, tearful or joyful, Francine was the most beautiful woman in the place with the dark chestnut of her hair falling in a shining swathe on her shoulders and those beautiful green eyes meeting his in a glance that was giving nothing away. Did she remember that night in Paris when he'd shared her room, he wondered, and they'd made love like there was no tomorrow?

He wasn't to know that she had every cause to remember it, remember it well. She was carrying his child, the child they'd created that night.

 

There were two more weeks to go of the summer break from school and the two younger members of the Lomax family were spending every moment on the beach or in the countryside while their parents were involved at the surgery.

Francine was still enjoying helping out in the mornings, but was hoping that Leo would soon be back as once Ethan knew about the baby she wasn't sure what would happen. At three months pregnant she was showing no signs of what lay ahead, but that was going to change in the near future.

In a few weeks time he would know beyond doubt
they were going to have another child, if she managed to keep the fact to herself that long, and should have no difficulty in recollecting the occasion that had brought it about.

She'd had a weak moment one evening when Jenna and Lucas had called to see Ethan and she'd been there dropping off the laundry that she'd done for him. The newlyweds had announced joyfully that they were expecting their first child and when they'd gone she'd weakened and wanted to tell him that he was going to be a father again.

But he'd forestalled her by asking if she'd heard anything recently from her solicitor, and with the divorce they were involved in brought sharply back into focus it had proved to be a deterrent on his part, just as that time on the beach when she'd pulled the plug on a special moment.

 

The long light days of summer came and went with them eating together in the evenings and then Ethan leaving the three of them in Thimble Cottage to go back to his empty house, while at weekends Francine persisted in going back across the Channel to her own empty house.

It was a crazy set-up, Ethan considered as he took a solitary stroll into the countryside on one occasion after leaving the three of them doing their own thing back at the cottage. Yet Francine had met him more than halfway by finding somewhere to rent close by for the children's sake, and at least they were behaving in a civilised manner towards each other.

Whether she was happy about the situation or not, his beautiful French wife had lost the frailty that had been
there when she'd arrived so unexpectedly on Christmas Eve, and seemed to have thrown off the lethargy that he'd been concerned about. As the weeks went by she was positively blooming in the clear air of Bluebell Cove.

 

Francine was a great help in the surgery. Even elderly Lucy, who'd been dubious about her returning to the practice under the present circumstances, had fallen under her spell, and the women patients were making good use of the presence of someone of their own sex to voice their concerns to.

Charlotte Templeton, plump, good-natured, and doing an excellent job as headmistress of the village school, was one of those who'd made an appointment to see Francine about an infection of one of her nipples, and had been expecting to be told that a sore that wouldn't heal, and itching and burning in the area was eczema.

When Francine had explained that she was going to arrange for a biopsy to be done as it could be something cancerous the teacher, who never flapped on the job, had gone completely to pieces.

‘There is a possibility that it could be Paget's disease of the nipple, a form of breast cancer that can easily be mistaken for eczema,' she'd told her. ‘It starts in the milk ducts and if not treated quickly can spread further into the breast.'

‘Oh, no!' Charlotte had cried frantically. ‘I'm no good with illness. Never have been.' With a wail of fear she added, ‘I don't want to lose my breast.'

‘No one is saying that you will have to. This is just the first step,' Francine had told her consolingly. ‘I will arrange an appointment for a biopsy to be taken at
the hospital and from that we will get some answers.' The distressed woman nodded tearfully and she said, ‘wipe away your tears, Charlotte. We cannot have those young ones who love their teacher so much seeing you weeping. The biopsy will be soon, and remember I may be mistaken, that it is eczema, but better to be sure, yes?'

‘Yes, of course,' had been the reply, and with it had come an explanation for the distress. ‘My mother died from breast cancer.'

‘Not Paget's disease?'

‘No. I hadn't heard of it until today, but it was breast cancer.'

‘Don't let us be crossing our bridges too soon,' Francine had said gently. ‘Let us see what the biopsy has to tell us.'

 

She'd told Ethan about the head teacher's problem that evening and he'd said, ‘So is it likely to be eczema?'

‘No, it is not,' she told him. ‘I have seen it before. It is Paget's disease, how serious I do not know. I have told the hospital the test is urgent.'

‘Hmm, bad news, then?'

‘Yes, but we must hope it is not
too
bad. And how did your day go?'

This was like old times he thought, discussing what the day had brought for them at the practice, but not quite. ‘Old times' had included peace and contentment in their lives and there was not much of that around at present.

‘I had the results back on a fasting test that I requested for diabetes,' he told her. ‘And they've come back positive. So Jack at the butcher's is going to have
to keep an eye on his fats and sugars, which he won't like.'

‘He wasn't keen on having to put his bacon and eggs on hold until he'd been to have blood taken first thing on an empty stomach, and the thought of having no sugar in his tea if it came back positive was taking on the mantle of a major catastrophe. I had to remind him that there are far worse things that some folk have to cope with than that.'

They were in the kitchen, tidying away after the evening meal as they'd been discussing the problems of their patients, and when they'd finished Ethan said, ‘I'm meeting Jenna and Lucas in the pub for a chat later. Do you want to come along? Though I must warn you the main topic of conversation these days is childbirth and babies.'

‘In that case, I think I'll give it a miss,' she said lightly. ‘I might have a stroll along the tops or go down to the beach. It's too nice a night to be inside.'

‘Fine,' he said levelly, taking on board the obvious fact that Francine was happy to tolerate his presence when Kirstie and Ben were around, or at the surgery where it was strictly impersonal, but when she had a choice she preferred him not to be around.

Where was it all going to end? he wondered. Not very happily from the looks of it, and how long was it going to be before some guy was attracted to a stunning French doctor who would soon be free from the shackles of her marriage, as that had to be the way
she
saw it?

 

How could she have endured talking about babies when she still hadn't told Ethan that she was carrying their child? Francine thought as she walked slowly down to
the beach where holidaymakers and local people were enjoying the last hour of sunlight before it turned to dusk.

As she looked around her she considered that most of those frolicking on the sand and challenging the incoming tide with surfboards at the ready would think her insane in wanting to leave Bluebell Cove.

But the house in France was all she had left of loving parents and a happy childhood, and though Ethan understood that, his loyalty to his commitments here in the village came first and he did not want to leave them for a life across the Channel.