That meant a comfortable jeans and favourite old shirt day. Normally, every day was a high heels day, she’d felt less than herself without the reassurance of the added inches and the sense of extra self-worth wearing cute shoes gave.
Today, she eyed all the shoes she owned and laughed. All those colours and heights and shapes. She wasn’t going to give them up, but…
Okay, Lord, yes, I did make an idol of shoes and clothes and food, looking for comfort there when I should have looked to You. I don’t need them that way anymore, now I really know You. But it’s okay to like them and enjoy them still, isn’t it?
She had the strongest sense God laughed along with her as she pulled out a pair of adorable orange ballet flats, slipped them on, and pirouetted around the room.
They felt right.
Unlike the big thing that felt all wrong in her life.
Matthew.
Knowing she wouldn’t see him again created a physical ache in her chest. But she’d been right to refuse him. He hadn’t mentioned love. A loveless marriage would break her heart, every day. Better to have the heartbreak just once. Turning him down hurt, but it would pass.
Eventually.
Not thinking about him was the best plan. She ran downstairs.
Daisy played in her pink Wendy House in the corner of the room, chatting away to herself and her toys. Mum came out of the kitchen, worry creasing her brow.
“I need to leave now,” she said. “I’m really praying this group meeting with Jen, her psychiatrist, and her social worker will be helpful for her.”
Anita hugged her. “I’ll pray too, Mum. You know I’m willing to help with Daisy as long as Jen needs me to, but I do hope she’s well enough to look after her again.”
She meant it, too.
Clinging to Daisy wouldn’t make up for her own sense of abandonment. Only clinging to God could do that. And His will might be for her to look after Daisy for years, but never be Daisy’s mother. She had to accept His plan. As long as the child was cared for and loved and safe, the rest was in God’s hands.
“You’ll be all right with Daisy today?”
“We’ll be fine, Mum. I thought we might go out to the playground at the park. No flowers there. I’ll make sure I have both the EpiPens, and my phone.”
“I know you will. You’d probably manage far better than I would if anything happened.”
Anita wasn’t too sure of that. She prayed Daisy never had another bee sting. Before they brought her home from hospital, the nurse gave them two EpiPens, and an information sheet. She’d watched the video on the website ten times over. She’d pulled off the safety cap and whacked the needleless practice pen into her own leg a dozen times. She knew what to do, though the thought of ever having to do it made her hands shake.
Mum had only just left when the doorbell rang.
The postwoman held a box about eighteen inches square. “Anita Kiernan?”
She nodded, mystified, and carried the box into the house. Her birthday wasn’t for a month, and she hadn’t ordered anything online. She didn’t recognise the strong black writing on the address label, and there wasn’t a sender’s name. Then she saw the Cambridge post label. Her heart gave a tiny hiccup.
Matthew?
It was silly to wish that. Why would he send her anything? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she sat on the living room floor alongside Daisy and admired the tower of blocks she’d built.
“You are a clever girl. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight blocks!”
Daisy grinned and knocked them down.
“Look. We have a parcel. Want to help me unwrap it? You can have the box to play with.”
Daisy’s little fingers poked and pulled and stuck, creating more hindrance than help, but between them, they got the packaging tape off. As Daisy tugged at the box flaps, fluffy pink and cream stripes poked out.
Bagpuss. Her breath stopped, and her jaw dropped as she lifted him from the box. Wonder vibrated through her.
She had Bagpuss back. Not another Bagpuss, bought new at a toy store.
The Bagpuss.
Only one Bagpuss in the entire world had those clumsy green stitches around his ear, where she’d sewn it back on aged ten, though he looked a little cleaner than she remembered.
She clutched him to her chest, tears flooding her eyes. She didn’t need Bagpuss so much anymore, but having him again was such a gift.
Just one person could have done this for her. Hope fizzed in her heart.
“Look who’s back with us, Daisy!” Passing Bagpuss into Daisy’s outstretched arms, she searched the box for a note.
I saw how much losing him meant to you, so I thought you and Daisy would appreciate his return. M
She should have guessed the handwriting was his. It couldn’t have been anyone else’s. He’d made sure someone searched through the rubbish and found Bagpuss. Maybe he’d even done it himself.
This was love. She knew it, as surely as she knew the sun would rise tomorrow.
She’d refused his proposal, waiting for him to speak words of love, but his actions spoke far louder than words ever could. Not just finding and returning Bagpuss, but so many other things he’d done for her. A Bible verse said it best. “Let us not love with words or speech, but with actions and in truth.”
She wanted to hear she was loved. She wanted to feel she was loved. But far more important was being shown she was loved. Love could be spoken in countless ways, not just in the words I love you. Recognising those ways was what counted.
Just as she hadn’t believed in God’s love for her until she felt it, but it was real and there for her all along, maybe Matthew’s love was the same.
Suddenly, with a surprising clearness and clarity, she knew what she needed to do. She had to be the one to make the next move. She had to take the risk she’d misread his gesture, and go see him. Thank him. And tell him how she felt.
With shaking fingers, she picked up her phone and typed in a text.
Thank you for Bagpuss. I have the day off minding Daisy. Could we meet? If not today, some other day?
If he said no, she had her answer.
Please, Lord, let it be yes. I hope I’m not wrong about this.
Impossible to put the hope out of her mind, though she tried. Washing the breakfast dishes and mopping the floor wasn’t a good enough distraction. She kept checking her phone for a message, making sure the volume was on and it was set to beep for a text.
Finally, the sound she’d been waiting for came. Fingers shaking, she picked up the phone.
I’m teaching at the School of Tropical Medicine in Bloomsbury. Lunch break 12.30 - 1.30. Meet me in the little garden across the road?
Her heart jumped with gratitude.
Yes, yes, yes! Thank You, Lord!
The morning seemed to stretch on forever, despite Daisy, housework, and putting together a picnic lunch keeping her busy. She resisted the temptation to dress up too much, though she did put on a pretty skirt and blouse, and paid a little extra attention to her hair and makeup. For once, she didn’t change her shoes for something higher. Letting herself be small before Matthew felt important today.
Daisy needed no persuading to take a trip into town, enjoying every minute of the ride in the big red bus. The directions Anita’s mobile phone gave led them right to the garden. One of those tiny gems London was full of, sunken below street level and hidden away behind a brick wall and tall wrought-iron gates. Thankfully, the garden had no flowers, only trees and grass. Less risk of bees.
Butterflies danced the quickstep in her tummy as she looked around for Matthew. Only a few people used the seats ringing the walls.
No sign of him yet, but they were a little early. She hoped her heart was up for the wait.
After spreading the blanket she’d brought for Daisy under the shade of a big oak tree, she unpacked the toys she’d carted along, and their picnic lunch. No Bagpuss, he was too big to carry in Daisy’s stroller with everything else. Besi
des, she didn’t want to chance losing him again.
Soft footsteps on the grass behind her made her turn. Matthew stood there, an unusual hint of uncertainty in his smile.
This is it. Help me please, Lord!
Taking a deep breath to quell her jittery nerves, she stood. Her heart pounded so loudly at his nearness, it felt as if it might jump right out of her chest. She pressed her hand over it, just in case.
Afraid of what she might see there, she couldn’t look at his face. She lowered her eyes and focussed on his chest. The open top button of his white oxford shirt exposed a small V of tanned skin. Just enough to remind her how very male he was.
That wasn’t any better than meeting his gaze. She peered down at her feet, instead.
“You wanted to see me,” he said.
Had she really heard a hint of questioning wonder in his voice? Hope stirred, a faint flutter in her heart.
But now she was here with him, she didn’t know what to say, where to begin. She couldn’t just dive right in and ask if he loved her. Nervousness sent her babbling.
“I just wanted to say thank you for finding Bagpuss and posting him to me. He arrived this morning. Daisy is so happy to have him back. I am too. That was such a kind thing for you to do for me, especially after I turned you down, and well… I just wanted to say thank you.”
She’d run out of words and repeated herself, as well as run out of breath.
“Anita.”
The emotion in his deep voice as he spoke her name startled her into looking up. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heartbeat stuttered. Surely she wasn’t imagining what she saw in his eyes.
He took her hand, and it trembled in his firm clasp. A rush of warm emotion washed through her.
“I hope you asking to see me today means what I hope it does, or I’m about to make the biggest fool of myself ever.” With a smile, he dropped to his knees in front of her. “I did it all wrong when I asked you to marry me. I’m not surprised you refused. So I’m going to try again.”
Mouth open in surprise, all she could do was stare down at him.
“The day I came to the store to spy on Beth, I heard you tell her you wouldn’t have me if I got down on bended knees.”
Proud Dr Matthew Coalbrooke, kneeling, humbling himself? For her? Sweet joyous tears moistened her eyes.
“Matthew,” she choked out.
“I hope you being here means you’ve changed your mind.”
Unable to speak, overcome with feeling, she nodded.
The smile spreading on his face lit it like a sunrise. “Good. Because I left out the most important reason of all. I love you. I don’t want to marry you because you’re suitable, or for any of those reasons I told you. I want to marry you because you’re you. Because you’re the woman God intends me to share my life with. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish. Will you marry me, Anita?”
Love and hope glowed in his eyes.
Legs wobbling, tears streaming down her face, but joy blooming in her heart, she dropped to her knees beside him and cradled his face in her hands. She gazed into his eyes, pouring all the love she felt for him into her own eyes and hands and face. “Oh, Matthew, yes. I will marry you. So gladly. I love you too.”
“Anita.” His voice roughened on her name, and his eyes darkened.
He pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. As he held her, still gazing into her eyes, as if needing to make sure she meant what she said, emotion swept her. Tenderness. Longing. Need.
Thank You, Lord. Thank You.
Her heart sang a hymn of praise. Held in Metthew’s arms was exactly where God wanted her to be.
As she lifted her face to his, her lips parted. So close, so close.
Then his mouth met hers, in a kiss that dizzied her. Hungry, searching, cherishing, true. If she’d doubted his words of love, his kiss ended all doubt. His hands buried in her hair, drawing her nearer, deeper into his embrace. Her hands flattened against his broad back, holding him as if she never wanted to let him go.
Eventually, he drew back a little, brushing kisses against the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. He murmured her name against her lips.
Then a small hand tugged at her skirt. “Me too. Kiss me, Maffoo.”
Anita loosened her hold on him, but only enough to bring Daisy into the circle of their arms. Still breathless, she laughed as Matthew dropped a kiss on Daisy’s head.
Then reality bit. She brushed the wisps of blonde hair away from Daisy’s beaming face. “We have a lot to think about. So much is up in the air, in both our lives. I don’t know what’s happening with Jen, how much she’s going to be able to do as a mother. All I can say is, I want to be there for her if it’s needed. I won’t ever leave Daisy without a loving home.”
He nodded and sat back on his heels, still holding both her hands. “I wouldn’t ever ask that of you. The way you care for Miss Daisy here is one of the things that first made me love you.”
“Lunch?” Daisy asked hopefully.
They both laughed. Releasing his hands, Anita moved to open the box of sandwiches she’d made. After handing one to Daisy, she offered the box to Matthew.
He picked one up and bit into it. “Hmm, good. Seems kissing makes me hungry.”
Anita nibbled at hers. She felt so full of love, she wasn’t sure when she’d need to eat again.
Matthew reached for another sandwich and smiled at her, though his eyes were thoughtful. “Much as I’d like us to marry as soon as possible, it’s probably wise to take things slowly. I’m completely sure I love you and want you as my wife, but you’re right, a lot needs to be worked out first.”
One worry still nagging at her needed to be said. “Are you sure you’re happy with not going back to Africa? You wanted it so badly. I’d hate for you to feel I held you back, stopped you from doing what is best for you.” She bit her lip as she waited for his answer.
His guffaw of laughter was the one thing she didn’t expect in reply.
“Oh, Anita, you needn’t worry. I was such a fool, fighting God’s will for me. He wants me here. I know that now. The Mission Trust needs big changes. God’s shown me how wasteful and paternalistic our operations are. Stuck in the 1800s. I plan to sell the Cambridge offices and use some of the funds to set up scholarships for African doctors and nurses. I’m thinking of what to do with Coalbrooke House, too.”
Eyes alight with enthusiasm, he reached out a hand to her.
“I hope you’ll come out and see it with me. I went back yesterday, with my godfather, and I realised, it is my home. But it’s far too big for even the largest family. I’ve been thinking about the boy in the clinic video. Remember him?”
She nodded. “Yes. You saved his life.”
His expression darkened. “I saved his life, and I used to think that was all that counted. But what about his quality of life? A ten-year-old amputee, with no rehabilitation, no chance of an artificial limb, not even a wheelchair?”
Her hand tightened on his.
“I only did half the job.” He shook his head. “Thousands of children like him live in war zones around the world, lives and limbs shattered by landmines, bombs, and sniper’s bullets.” Fervour rang in his voice.
Grateful recognition of the big compassionate heart of this man she loved swelled in her, even as hurt for those children and their parents choked her throat. She’d been wrong to call him a hero without a heart. He had a heart the size of England. He’d just needed to find it again.
“What are you thinking to do about it?” she asked.
His face lit up. “Coalbrooke House could become a children’s rehab centre for war victims. With God’s help, we could work to put these kid’s broken lives back together again.”
Tears wet her eyes. She pressed a hand against her chest, holding back the emotion expanding there. It felt so right.
He smiled. “I shouldn’t say we. I haven’t aske
d you yet. It’s a huge job to take on. I haven’t started to calculate the logistics of it, either. But I feel it’s what God’s calling me to do. I hope you’ll partner me in it, though it means giving up your teapots and tiaras. Daisy can live there with us, too, if needed.”
She threw her arms around him. “It’s a wonderful plan! The need to do something more has been niggling at me for a while, and this is it! I want to be part of it. I can’t imagine anything better than being temporary mother to a house full of kids. Especially with you.”
As his lips claimed hers, the truth of her words rang out joyous as church bells in her soul. They’d both found love, and the work God intended for them. Dr Matthew Coalbrooke had come home.
And so had she.
Epilogue
The hum of chatter in the village church stilled as the beginning chords of “The Wedding March” sounded from the organ. Outside in the late-summer sunshine, Anita straightened the skirt of Beth’s dress over the big hooped petticoat and tweaked her veil into position.
Her friend had never looked more radiant.
“At last, a celebration of your marriage your friends and family can share. And Portia’s well enough to share your joy. An answer to our prayers.”
Beth smiled. “I know. I’m so grateful the vicar suggested we have a service of blessing and thanksgiving. Portia will love seeing me finally wear the dress we chose together before she fell ill.”
“James will too!” Grinning, she gave Beth a quick hug, and then stepped back.
Beth took her father’s arm. “All set, Dad?”
Mr Forrest ran a finger around the inside of his dress shirt collar as if it was too tight, but nodded.
Moving to stand poised and ready behind Beth outside the tall arched doors, on a stone step worn concave by the feet of hundreds of years of worshippers, Anita smoothed her full-skirted emerald-green dress.
“Daisy!” She bent to stop the toddler tipping her basket of rose petals all over the church porch. “Hold onto those, sweetheart. You can scatter them in a minute. I’ll tell you when.”
When she stood up, her gaze sprang to the three men standing at the altar. James, the vicar, and Matthew all stared down the aisle.
Teapots & Tiaras: A sweet and clean Christian romance in London and Cambridge (Love In Store Book 5) Page 16
