A Wedding in the Village

by Abigail Gordon

  * * *

  That evening she phoned Sue and asked if she would like to come round for coffee. It would be easier to talk with just the two of them, she thought. Maybe her friend would open up to her more if they were alone, and when Sue said that she’d love to, it felt almost like old times. Almost, but not quite.

  Things had changed. The boys seemed more settled in spite of the firework episode, and if the lads who had sold it to Owen and Oliver had come from their school, Luke would have been round there to investigate. But both his nephews had said they’d never seen them before. That they didn’t live locally and they’d seen them getting off the train as if they’d come into the village from the town. It could have been so much worse, she thought thankfully, and now all they could do was hope that Sue’s sons wouldn’t do anything like that again.

  When Sue arrived, Megan could see a difference in her friend. In spite of flying home to find her son in hospital, she looked brighter and more in charge. It was clear that a change of scene had done her a lot of good, and Megan thought that Luke had been right to let her go as he had.

  ‘How is Oliver?’ was Megan’s first question, and his mother smiled.

  ‘Home and happy to be so. Though I have a feeling that he quite enjoyed being in the limelight for a short time and having the famous Alexis coming to see him twice. I suspect he enjoyed that more than Luke did.’

  Megan smiled. ‘You suspect right,’ she said, and left it at that. There was no way she was going to pursue the subject of his ex-wife with his sister, but Sue wasn’t aware that she had any reservations regarding Alexis and said, ‘It was the biggest mistake Luke ever made. That woman broke his heart. Having seen him with my two, you’ll know what a wonderful father he would make, but she put an end to that. I just hope that one day he’ll find someone who will love, cherish him and give him the babies he longs for. And in the meantime, he’s settling into village life like a natural. Now, tell me about yourself, Meg. How’s life at the practice with my big brother sharing the load?’

  ‘It’s great,’ Megan said. ‘I’m taking him on a tour of all my favourite places on Saturday. He says that you’re going to be available to help out at the garden centre so he’s got some free time.’

  She nodded ‘Yes. I am. I feel ready to get a grip on things again. Luke has his own life to live and he isn’t going to find his dream woman if he’s bogged down with our affairs.’

  * * *

  Megan watched her friend leave a little later with mixed feelings. It was a great relief to see Sue more like her old self and ready to pick up the reins once more. But it was obvious that she didn’t see her, Megan, as someone that Luke might fall in love with, and she thought wryly that although Alexis was a selfish and calculating woman, when it came to looks and style she was way ahead of herself. And in any case, if Luke was attracted to her, she’d already put a blight on that by telling him that he didn’t have the right qualifications.

  Why was life so complicated? she asked herself as she lay in her solitary bed, gazing out at a starlit sky. Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with someone without so much emotional baggage?

  * * *

  She awoke on Saturday to a crisp, clear, morning and as she lay and let the pleasure of what lay ahead wash over her, Megan wondered if Luke was doing the same.

  She didn’t know why he’d changed his mind. On the face of it he’d done it because he had Saturday free now that Sue was home, but she didn’t think that was it. Just as she hadn’t been convinced that the garden centre was the real reason for his prompt refusal when she’d first asked him. A more likely reason was that he’d still been smarting at what she’d said about being the first love of the man she married.

  She threw back the bedcovers resolutely and went to the window. Forget all that, she told herself. You have the chance of spending some quality time with Luke so make the best of it. Live one day at a time and see what this one brings.

  They had arranged that he would drive up to the cottage, leave his car there and they would set off from that point, which left the moors the nearest place to introduce him to.

  As he switched off the engine Megan came out of the front door, and as Luke watched her lock it and turn to greet him he felt a tenderness inside him that was new and exhilarating. Alexis had never created the bone-melting feeling in him that was there every time he was with Megan. He wanted to cherish her, protect her, make love to her…if she would let him.

  They were dressed the same in waterproof jackets, jeans and walking boots, hardly outfits to inspire romance, and quite unaware of the road that his thoughts were travelling along, Megan said, ‘Just a mile further up the hill we come to the moors and it can be bleak up there. We haven’t had any house calls from people living in those parts since you came, but that doesn’t mean to say we won’t.’

  When they reached a plateau Luke took in the scene without speaking. All around them, rugged and tree-covered, the peaks stretched into the distance, separated from the moorland by deep gullies.

  He looked down at the grass at his feet. It was long, dry and spiky. bent from continually being in the path of the winds that blew up there. It had none of the fresh green of the lawns and grass verges in the village and as she observed him questioningly he said wryly, ‘You aren’t telling me that this is one of your favourite places, surely.’

  She smiled. ‘It is in a way. I feel a sort of agelessness when I’m up here. It isn’t always as bleak and lonely as it seems today. We get lots of walkers up here. There’s a pub at the furthest point, which picks up reasonable trade according to weather conditions, and a farm not far away.’

  It was his turn to smile. ‘I’ll bear that in mind if I’m called up here in winter. The pub, I mean, not the farm. So, where to now?’

  ‘Civilisation. We go downwards, back towards the village, stopping at the youth hostel on the hillside, which is nearly always full. I used to work there in my teens for extra cash and the company before I went to university. I’ve had some great times there. It may not be your kind of place, having lived a much more sophisticated life than I have, but I did promise to show you my favourite places.’

  ‘And am I complaining?’

  He would have liked to tell her that sophistication could have its drawbacks, that her wholesome approach to life was cleansing and reassuring, but he had resolved that this day was not going to be spoilt by any comments rashly made that might make Megan retreat behind the barriers that had been there ever since their illuminating chat that day by the riverside.

  The youth hostel was full, as she’d predicted, and he was impressed to see that now she was known to them as the local GP who they sent for when emergencies occurred, instead of the part-time helper of her teens.

  When she’d introduced him to Mike and Angela, the middle-aged couple who were in charge of the place, and they’d accepted a mug of tea from them, Luke went around chatting to some of the young people there. Smiling, Mike nodded toward him and said, ‘Your doctor friend is very much at ease with our visitors.’

  ‘He was one of my lecturers when I was at university,’ Megan told him. ‘He’s used to teenagers from then, and he now has two young nephews that he’s keeping an eye on, who are a handful.’

  ‘So what is he doing, working in a country practice?’ Angela questioned.

  ‘Luke’s sister lives in the village. Her husband died not long ago and he’s come to give her support.’

  ‘And took the vacancy at the practice because he needed a job, I presume?’

  ‘Yes. That more or less describes it.’

  Luke came back to join them at that moment and said, ‘Megan is taking me on a tour of all her favourite places today, and this is one of them.’

  The husband-and-wife team laughed.

  ‘Really?’ Mike said. ‘It’s very nice of her to say so.’ Turning to her, he said, ‘And you were one of our favourite helpers, Megan. The lads were after her like bees around honey, weren’t they, Angie?’


  ‘Mmm,’ Angela replied. ‘They were, but our young helper was very choosy, weren’t you?’ she said, and Megan managed to dredge up a sick smile. She was squirming at the way the conversation was going. It was another instance of her sounding as if she put a high price on herself.

  ‘I think we need to be going,’ she said with outward calm, and then added with a smile that was completely genuine, ‘It’s been lovely to see you again. Thanks for the tea.’

  ‘Why the rush?’ Luke asked as they made their way down the hillside.

  ‘I was embarrassed.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They said I was choosy.’

  ‘Yes, they did. But I wasn’t judging you, and neither were they.’

  Megan sighed. ‘Maybe, but it made me sound like someone who thinks she’s something special.’

  Dark brows were rising. ‘No one is going to argue with that.’ His voice deepened. ‘It is what you are…special. Why do you think you were the only one I noticed in my class all that time ago? You weren’t after every man who walked by. You wanted to qualify and that came first.’

  ‘I did send you a Valentine, though.’

  ‘Hmm, you did. It was the only one I took any notice of once I’d recognised your writing.’

  ‘And you didn’t exactly fall over yourself with excitement, if I remember rightly.’

  ‘There were two reasons for that. Both equally stressing. I was still married at the time and smarting, I might tell you, though my divorce was going through. And I would never have entered into a relationship with a student. It would have been against protocol and my own principles. But, Megan, let’s forget the past. Make the most of the present and enjoy the day.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed quickly. ‘That was my intention. I let myself get sidetracked by what Mike and Angela said and promise not to let it happen again. So forward to our next stopping place.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Elevenses with Aunt Izzy.’

  He groaned. ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ she admitted sweetly. ‘We’re going to stop for coffee in the heart of the village. The Goyt Gallery behind the church does light refreshments besides selling paintings. Sonia Clayborne who owns it is an artist herself. Over the years she’s painted me a few times. She says that my colouring comes up well on canvas.’

  ‘When was the last time?’he asked, immediately tuned in.

  ‘Recently. Since I’ve come back to live in the village. I did some sittings for her before you came, but don’t know if the portrait is finished. I’ve never been keen on having my face on view in the gallery, but Sonia is a sweet old thing and very talented, so I give in when she asks me to sit for her.’

  ‘So that’s why we are calling there, to see if it’s finished?’

  Megan shook her head. ‘No, of course not. I want your opinion. Sonia isn’t at all well, but getting her to come to the surgery is like getting blood out of a stone. She thinks she is invincible, that ill health isn’t going to come her way, but she’s wrong. I feel it has already arrived and I want to know what you think when you see her.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said easily. ‘Anything to oblige the friend of a friend. But am I going to be able to tell by just looking?’

  ‘I don’t know. But you have a lot more experience than I have.’

  They swung on to the main street of the village and she pointed to where the ancient church stood that dated back to Norman times. ‘The gallery is behind in a small cul-de-sac.’

  ‘So which comes first,’ he asked whimsically, ‘the coffee or the covert consultation?’

  ‘How about simultaneously?’

  ‘Of course,’ he agreed.

  * * *

  The first thing Luke was aware of as they entered the small but elegant gallery was that the portrait was finished. It dominated the centre of the room on a large easel and it was so lifelike it took his breath away.

  The artist had captured Megan’s clear-eyed gaze on the world and her striking colouring at the same time, and his heartbeat quickened. But his companion’s gaze was on the woman who had appeared from behind a heavy velvet curtain at the back of the shop. She hadn’t even noticed the portrait.

  ‘Sonia,’ she said. ‘This is my colleague, Dr Anderson. I’ve been telling him about the gallery and he’s come to look at your paintings as he is very interested in art of any kind.’

  The woman observing him with bright birdlike eyes was not young. Sixties or early seventies, he would have thought. She was painfully thin—gaunt, in fact, with arms and legs like sticks and dark skin around the eyes, but it seemed that there was nothing wrong with her mind.

  ‘Good morning, Dr Anderson,’ she said briskly. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you. Though I doubt we shall be seeing much of each other unless you come to buy a painting.’

  I shall be wanting to buy a painting, he thought, and unless I’m very much mistaken you are going to be seeing quite a lot of me.

  It was not a thought that he was going to pass on to her at the moment of meeting, so he just smiled. Sonia turned to Megan, who was gazing open-mouthed at the portrait, and said, ‘So what do you think of it, Meg o’ mine.’

  ‘Is that really me?’ Megan breathed.

  Sonia smiled. ‘None other, and, though I say it, I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. It’s taken me a while because I’m always tired these days, but with the coffee-shop and this place, I suppose it isn’t surprising.’

  ‘So maybe it’s time you paid the Riverside Practice a visit,’ Megan said gently. ‘You might need a tonic or something of the sort.’

  This lady was going to need more than a tonic, Luke thought. He’d seen people like her before who ignored the signs to the point of collapse and then they had to accept treatment whether they wanted it or not, and sometimes it was too late. But he was not going to stick his oar in at that moment.

  He couldn’t stop looking at the portrait. Megan had sat for it in a strapless dress of emerald brocade and as he gazed at the smooth lines of her shoulders and the hollow between her breasts he felt raw desire inside him for the first time in many long months and this time, mixed with it, was the tenderness that she aroused in him whenever they were together.

  Aware of how intently he was observing it, Megan had turned away with rising colour and was saying to Sonia, ‘We’ve called for a coffee and one of Barbara’s delicious cakes.’

  Barbara was a friend of Sonia’s who served in the coffee-shop and made the cakes and scones on sale there.

  While they were being served, Sonia was called back into the shop and Barbara said hurriedly, ‘You doctors have got to make Sonia see sense. I feel as if she’s dying before my eyes.’

  Megan nodded, her expression grave. ‘That’s why I’ve brought Dr Anderson in on the pretext of a coffee. I need his opinion. We can’t discuss it here, Barbara, but once we’ve left he will tell me what he thinks and we’ll take it from there.’

  ‘She does need help,’ Luke said in a low voice, ‘and some persuasion may be needed, but the lady needs to be treated fast if she wants to carry on with her painting and whatever else she does.’

  At that moment Sonia came back and while Megan chatted to Barbara he said to her, ‘I’d love to have a stroll around the gallery if you could spare the time to show me what you have for sale.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said immediately, and the moment they were out of earshot he said, ‘I want to buy the portrait of Megan. Will you put it to one side for me? I’ll come to collect it the first chance I get. Please, don’t tell her I’ve bought it, will you? I want it to be a surprise when I tell her.’

  ‘I’d like it to go to someone who cares for her,’ Sonia said. ‘To a friend, or family.’

  ‘It will be,’ he told her with strengthening determination. ‘You can rely on that.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘SO WHAT do you think is wrong with Sonia?’ Megan asked as soon as they were out of sight of the gal
lery.

  ‘It could be anaemia, due to an iron deficiency, or further along the line than that, cancer of the liver or the colon,’ said Luke. ‘That is only guessing, but I’ve seen this sort of thing before, as I’m sure you have.’

  She nodded. ‘That’s what I thought, but I needed to hear your opinion. So how do we get her to have treatment? She needs blood tests before anything else, and I know what she’ll say.’

  ‘To you maybe, but how about I have a go at persuading her? There shouldn’t be any delay or it might be too late. I’ll call round tomorrow on some sort of pretext and do the blood tests while I’m there. She won’t expect me to be wearing my doctor’s hat on a Sunday morning.’

  ‘If she’ll agree.’

  Luke’s voice was reassuringly firm. ‘She’ll agree. I shall charm her into it if all else fails. Your favourite places are certainly not what I expected. The bleak, windswept moors, a youth hostel and now a picture gallery. What next?’

  ‘I used to go to Sonia’s place when I was a child,’ Megan explained. ‘She always had time to talk to me and feed me. My mum and dad were always so busy. I used to sit and watch her paint for hours. I was surprised when I saw my portrait. I didn’t notice it at first because I was looking at Sonia, dreading that she might have lost more weight. What did you think of it?’

  What did he think of it? He would love to tell her that he was going to buy it, but it might cause her to withdraw from him. She might feel he was overstepping the mark.

  There was a pond in the middle of the village green and as they walked beside it a couple of plump ducks came waddling up, expecting bread, but soon lost interest when none was forthcoming.

  ‘If only life could be as uncomplicated as theirs,’ Luke said. ‘Bread, or no bread, and a noisy quack, quack.’

  ‘You haven’t answered my question,’ Megan said, as they left the hungry birds behind.

  ‘I think the portrait is excellent,’ he said, hoping he sounded casual. ‘Your friend Sonia is very talented. It is up to you and I to see that she lives to paint another day, so we’ll see what tomorrow brings.’