by Joanna Neil
Sarah’s jaw dropped. ‘I didn’t realise… I mean…I had no idea that there were any such things in the house.’ She pressed her lips together momentarily and then added in a husky tone, ‘Look, do you think we could start again? This is not at all what it must appear. I really do have a key that the estate agent gave me, but I think he must have mixed it up with one for another property. Perhaps the numbers are the same, or maybe there’s a Bridge End Road somewhere.’
He studied her thoughtfully for a second or two, his grey gaze flicking over her, and she looked away, feeling awkward. Then pride came to her rescue and she braced herself to deal with the situation. Why should she feel guilty for simply trying to counter the estate agent’s mistake?
Dragging her eyes back to his tall frame a moment later, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
To her surprise, he nodded. ‘You’re probably right.’
Sarah gave a soft sigh of relief. Was he finally accepting that she wasn’t an intruder? His expression was noncommittal, though, and she studied him closely, trying to work out what might be going on in his mind. It was a doomed effort, and after a moment her thoughts wandered idly. She couldn’t help but notice how well the short-cropped cut of his midnight-black hair suited him. It seemed somehow at one with his strongly defined features, the angular jaw and the straight line of his brows.
He said crisply, ‘I dare say there must have been a mistake somewhere along the way…only the property wasn’t supposed to be going on the market for another couple of days. By then I would have finished with the clearing up.’
Sarah’s attention came back with a jerk. ‘Yes, the agent did tell me that they weren’t quite ready…but he didn’t seem to be at all concerned about me coming to look the place over.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me at all.’ His mouth made a crooked shape. ‘The cottage is in such bad condition that they’ll probably struggle to find a tenant. I wouldn’t have thought many people would want to take it on, and Alfred’s family haven’t yet managed to find a buyer.’
A small line indented her brow. ‘Has something happened to Alfred? You said that he went into hospital.’ All at once Sarah found herself concerned with the fate of the poor man who had been too ill to maintain his property and who’d had to abandon all his worldly goods to another’s care. ‘You’re a friend of his?’
‘Neighbour. I live next door. I used to call round to make sure that he was all right. Then, one day, I found him in a state of collapse after he’d had a fall. It turned out that his heart had gone into an abnormal rhythm, causing him to black out for a short time. He cracked a rib as he fell against the sideboard and he wasn’t able to get up again.’
Sarah sucked in a quick breath. ‘Had he been lying there for a long while?’
He shook his head. ‘A matter of minutes, I believe. I think he was just about to prepare for bed when he became ill. Luckily, I was on a late shift that day, and when I came home happened to check on him.’
‘So you called for an ambulance and waited with him?’
He nodded. ‘I did. It wasn’t too long before the paramedics arrived.’
She tried to imagine how she would have coped under those circumstances. ‘Even so, that must have been nerve-racking wait.’
‘From the point of view of a friend wanting to lend a helping hand, yes, it was, but I’m a doctor, so at least I knew what to do to stabilise his condition. I had my medical bag to hand, fortunately.’
‘A doctor…’ Sarah studied him all over again. Perhaps that accounted for his calm, confident manner, both in his handling of Alfred’s crisis and in his way of dealing with finding a potential trespasser on the premises. It was beginning to look as though this man was a force to be reckoned with.
‘And how is he now? Did he pull through?’ It hadn’t been all that long ago since Sarah herself had been in a desperate, helpless situation, and she could readily identify with the injured man. She had no idea who it was who had attacked her and left her fighting for her life, but someone had come along and rescued her, just as this man had done for Alfred.
‘He did.’ He made a brief smile. ‘He’s OK, but he’s not well enough to live on his own any longer. His family live some distance away, down in Somerset, and I don’t think they realised how frail he was until I called them.’
‘So, are they taking care of him now?’
‘Yes, they are.’ He glanced around. ‘As to the cottage, Alfred has a sentimental attachment to the place, but he’s leaving it up to his family to sort things out. I believe they would like to sell, but they decided to put it up for rent while they make up their minds. Not that anyone is likely to take it on, given the state it’s in.’
‘Well, you never know, do you? Perhaps I could take a look around?’ Sarah ventured. ‘I really need to find somewhere to live.’
He frowned. ‘I doubt very much that this will be what you want, but certainly I can let you into the house. I’m Ben, by the way. Ben Brinkley.’
‘Sarah…Hall.’ She hesitated over the words that still seemed strange to her. She had no idea who she really was, but the name Sarah had been on the tip of her tongue when they’d asked her at the hospital, and from the outset, as young as she was, Emily had called herself Emily Hall. So that was the name that had stuck. Despite all the attempts that had been made to track Sarah’s origins, though, none had revealed anything of who she was and where she had come from.
He reached into his pocket and took out a key, inserting it into the lock of the back door. ‘If you take my advice, you’ll look elsewhere. I’ve been opening the windows to air the place, but I suspect there’s a problem with damp, and I don’t think anyone’s going to be dealing with it any time soon. I arranged for someone to come and put in a new fire for Alfred in the living room, so that he could be warm at least, and I’ve decorated the main bedroom and replaced the rotting window-frame in there, but there’s a limit to how much I’ve been able to do, given the hours I work.’ He pushed open the door to the kitchen and waved a hand for her to go inside.
Sarah walked into the room, and her spirits sank as soon as she looked around. It seemed as though the kitchen hadn’t been touched since the turn of the previous century, with battered stand-alone cupboards lining the walls and a plain, rectangular wooden table in the middle of the room. The north-facing wall showed patches of damp, extending along its length. As for any means of cooking, there was a rusty old range up against one wall. She frowned. ‘I wonder how Alfred managed to cook his meals.’
‘I think he mostly relied on the microwave to heat things up,’ Ben said, ‘or he would come round to my place to share a meal with me.’
Sarah smiled. ‘It sounds as though you were a good neighbour to him.’
Ben gave a negligent shrug. ‘I did what I could.’ He glanced around. ‘Let me show you the rest of the place. It won’t take long, because there’s only the kitchen and living room downstairs, and just the two dormer bedrooms and a small bathroom upstairs. It’s all very much on a par with what you see down here.’
He sounded as though he thought the tour was a waste of time, and Sarah gave him a quick sidelong look. Why was he so sure that she wouldn’t want to live here?
‘Are you hoping to put me off?’ she queried lightly.
He pushed open the door to the living room. ‘I think the house will do that all by itself,’ he said. His glance skimmed over her. ‘Besides, you’re as slender as a string bean and you don’t look as though you have the wherewithal to tackle the work that would be needed to put things right.’
Sarah made a face at that. His comment about her slender shape had struck home. People had remarked on how slim she was. Perhaps it had been the time she had spent in hospital and the confusion as to who she was and what had happened to her that had made her lose weight. The clothes she had been wearing when she had been found no longer fitted her, but hung on her slender frame.
She stiffened her shoulders. All that was going to change. S
he was determined to make a new start, if only for Emily’s sake.
‘Isn’t that the landlord’s responsibility?’
‘Maybe, but it’s unlikely that Alfred’s family will be doing any renovations in the short term. Their responsibilities end with matters of health and safety…things like making sure that the appliances are in sound condition.’
So any changes to make the place comfortable would be left to the tenant, assuming that permission was given. Sarah pressed her lips together, absorbing that fact before she started to look around.
The living room was drab, in need of decorating, and the heavy curtains tended to block out the light, lending a sombre air to the place. On the plus side, there were one or two small pieces of furniture that pointed to someone with a collector’s eye, and she noted a cabinet housing several antiques that wouldn’t have been out of place in a fine country mansion.
Upstairs, the main bedroom was clean and comfortable, with softly patterned walls and freshly painted woodwork, though the second bedroom was in a sorry state. The floor covering was brittle and cracked, and the paper on the walls was yellowed with age. Poor Alfred must have been in desperate need of help until Ben had come along.
‘The bathroom isn’t too bad. It’s a bit cramped, but at least the plumbing is in order.’ Ben showed her into the room and then waited outside on the landing while she took a look around.
The bath was Victorian in style, with clawed feet and chipped enamel, and, as he had said, there was very little room to spare. Sarah suspected that what had once been a large bathroom had been divided to allow for a second bedroom.
‘Thank you for showing me around,’ she said, as they started down the narrow stairs. ‘I do appreciate you taking the time. I’ll have to call in on the estate agent tomorrow and tell him about the mix-up.’
‘I expect he already knows. Like you said, someone looking at a Bridge End Road property is probably wondering right now why his key isn’t working.’
Back in the kitchen, Sarah took a last look around. None of what she had seen filled her with enthusiasm, and perhaps that showed in her expression because Ben said, ‘Don’t think of it as a waste of time, but more as a guide to comparing properties in the future. You’ve gained an idea of what there is at the bottom of the heap.’
He walked with her out into the garden and turned to lock the door. ‘Better luck next time.’
She sent him an oblique glance. ‘You’re very sure that I won’t be coming back, aren’t you? Are you going to be this way with all your potential neighbours, or are you hoping that the place will stay empty?’
‘Now, there’s an appealing thought,’ he said in a musing tone. ‘I could enjoy the tranquillity of a country retreat, with nothing to disturb me except for the birdsong every morning. I think I might work on that some more, and maybe I’ll be able to come up with a plan of action.’
Sarah might have believed that he was joking if it hadn’t been for the pensive flicker that stirred in the depths of his grey eyes. Maybe he was something of a loner, content to spend his leisure time in solitary comfort.
Either way, he was already walking her back to her car, and she guessed that for him the incident was over and done with. He would see her on her way, and then retreat to his peaceful hideaway.
As for Sarah, she had a decision to make. Would the cottage make a suitable home for Emily? And how would the doctor take to having a lively child around the place? Not too well, she would imagine, if he really valued a quiet life.
CHAPTER TWO
A GENTLE smile touched Sarah’s lips as she gazed down at the sleeping child. Emily’s honey-coloured curls were splayed out over the pillow, her golden lashes brushing the softness of her cheeks. Her tiny hands held the bedspread lightly as she began to stir.
‘Emily, sunbeam, it’s time to wake up.’ Sarah stroked her daughter’s silky hair and Emily’s eyelids fluttered open.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her fists and then lifted her arms up to Sarah, winding them around her neck. ‘Am I going to nursery today?’
‘Yes.’ Sarah gave her a kiss and a hug. ‘I’m going to take you there as soon as we’ve had breakfast. That will be good, won’t it? You’ll be able to play with the other children.’
Emily scrunched up her nose. ‘I want to go in the little cars. Joseph pusheded me out the way last time and the teacher telled him off.’ She frowned. ‘Will we be able to go outside?’
Sarah smiled. ‘I expect so. It’s a beautiful day today, so you’ll probably be playing outside for quite a lot of the time. And I’m sure the teacher will be looking out for Joseph, to make sure that he takes his turn along with everyone else.’
Emily smiled contentedly. ‘Don’t want that T-shirt,’ she said, pointing to the pile of clothes that Sarah had laid out ready. ‘I want the pink one with the shiny writing.’
‘Oh, you do, do you, madam?’ Sarah put her head on one side, looking on with amusement as the little girl scrambled out of bed. ‘And I suppose you want the pink hair slides as well, do you?’
The child nodded and scampered into the bathroom, leaving Sarah to follow. ‘Well, I dare say we can do that,’ Sarah murmured. ‘Let’s see how we get on with you washing and dressing yourself, shall we? Perhaps you can manage to pull your top on all by yourself today.’
‘I can.’ Emily’s voice rose with astonishment. ‘I can do it. Mummy forgetted.’
Sarah laughed. ‘Perhaps I did. You’ll have to show me all over again.’ She knew very well that Emily was beginning to manage her clothes for herself, but even so she had to acknowledge that it wasn’t unusual for her to have trouble recalling the small everyday things that cropped up. There were still times when she felt confused, as though her mind was playing tricks on her.
She was getting better every day, though, and yesterday’s visit to the cottage had been something of a landmark achievement, albeit that it had been marred by her unexpected meeting with the good-looking doctor.
What must he have made of her? He probably thought that she was a strange young woman with a decidedly nonconformist manner. Then again, she had at least managed to recover her composure, and she had been able to talk to him as though her actions were perfectly normal.
Even Carol had to admit that she was stronger in all ways… Sarah frowned. All but the one that really counted.
It was a fact that she still didn’t know who she was, and her past remained a mystery to her. Much as she loved her daughter, it still seemed alien to her to have discovered that she was the mother of this beautiful child. These last few months had been like a rebirth, in every sense, and each day that passed brought with it new challenges.
‘See, Mummy? I done it myself.’ Emily shrugged into her T-shirt and beamed at Sarah, bringing her out of her reverie.
‘So you have. Clever girl.’
After breakfast, Sarah gathered up her bag in readiness for the day ahead, and then started to look around for her notebook. Her brow furrowed. She was sure that she had put it somewhere safe, in a place where she would easily find it.
‘Have you lost something?’ Carol asked. Emily’s foster-mother was stacking crockery in the dishwasher, but now she stopped what she was doing in order to glance quizzically across the kitchen in Sarah’s direction.
‘My notepad,’ Sarah murmured. ‘I thought I had left it on the top of the sideboard, but it isn’t there.’
‘I saw you sliding it into your document wallet last night,’ Carol said. ‘You said that you had finished writing your pieces for the local newspaper and you would drop them in to the office today when you went into town to see the estate agent.’
‘Of course I did.’ Sarah slapped a hand to her forehead. ‘I thought it would be easier if I kept everything together.’ She sighed. ‘I should have written myself a memo and stuck it on the fridge.’
Carol smiled. ‘Not to worry. You’re getting there, little by little.’
Sarah’s mouth made a crooked slant.
‘At least it’s not just me having problems if the mishap over the key is anything to go by.’
‘That’s true. The estate agent must have had a momentary lapse.’ Carol hesitated, sending her a thoughtful glance. ‘So, are you still set on taking on the cottage?’
Sarah nodded. ‘It isn’t in the best of shape, but I don’t see that I have any choice. It’s about all that I can afford until my job prospects improve—my freelance writing is beginning to bring in a modest income, but it isn’t enough to provide a terrific standard of living. At least the effort I’ll have to put in to make the cottage into a home will be good therapy for me.’ She frowned. ‘I just hope that Social Services won’t decide that it’s not a fit place for Emily.’
‘I doubt they’ll object. After all, from the sound of it, there isn’t anything too untoward about the property, apart from some damp in the kitchen. Besides, having a doctor living next door might turn out to be an advantage.’
Sarah made a face. ‘I don’t think he’ll see it quite that way. The impression I had was that he would much prefer to be left to himself and, to be honest, that actually suits me right down to the ground. I need some space so that I can clear my head.’
‘Not too much space, I hope?’ Carol was frowning. ‘I know you want to take on more work, and that you’re determined to go it alone, but you have to think of Emily in all this. She’s been through a lot, with you being away in hospital for a time, and the last thing she needs is for you to suffer a relapse. That’s why you have to remember that I’m here for you, for both of you.’
Sarah clasped her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I will. Like I said, I’m not going to be far away, and we’ll be back to pester you on a regular basis.’
‘That will be fine by me.’ Carol’s face creased into a smile. ‘Did the neighbour say where it was that he worked? Perhaps he’s a GP, with a practice nearby. That would be handy for you and Emily, wouldn’t it?’
Sarah felt a rush of heat ripple through her at the mere thought. Ben Brinkley as her GP? Heaven forbid. Even now she could remember with startling clarity the feel of his long body brushing against hers as he had helped her. Her whole system had gone into overdrive.
