Caroline Anderson, Josie Metcalfe, Maggie Kingsley, Margaret McDonagh

by Brides of Penhally Bay Vol. 03 (li

  ‘Hello, Adrian,’ he said, shaking the man’s hand. ‘Please, take a seat.’ He waited a moment as Adrian made himself comfortable. ‘What can I do for you today?’

  ‘It’s about my tinnitus, Doctor. It’s worsening all the time, as is my hearing, and affecting my work. Things are really getting me down.’

  ‘What work do you do?’

  ‘I’m a teacher at the secondary school.’ Adrian grimaced and shook his head. ‘I love my job but it’s harder to cope with the noise levels or several people talking at once, not to mention making sure I’m hearing my students properly.’

  Gabriel glanced again at the notes to see what history and previous advice had been recorded. ‘You saw a specialist ten years ago and you were told you had otosclerosis?’

  ‘That’s right. I lived in the north of England then. I moved here for the job with my family eight years ago. No one really explained what it meant to have otosclerosis, just that I had to live with the tinnitus, that there was nothing much to be done.’

  ‘Tinnitus is a symptom that has many causes and is experienced in different ways. For most types there isn’t a cure. Otosclerosis means that the bones in the middle ear harden and this affects the hearing as it prevents the bones vibrating. It can lead to deafness. What kind of noises do you hear with your tinnitus?’ he asked, making notes as his patient explained.

  ‘It’s a whooshing noise but throbs and thumps like my pulse, as if I’m hearing my heartbeat all the time. I’ve had it for fifteen years or more. For a while I tried to follow the advice to cover up the sounds, but it’s progressively got worse, to the point I can’t ignore it. And my hearing is diminishing.’ Adrian paused, a deep sigh escaping. ‘One on one with people I’m not too bad, I’m learning to lipread, but in a gathering or with other noises, it’s becoming impossible. My wife encouraged me to come, to try again, even though I doubt there is much you can do.’

  Gabriel considered the options, feeling for the man and his situation. ‘What you describe is pulsatile tinnitus. It’s many years since you saw the specialist and things may have changed since then, so I’d like to refer you to a consultant at the audiology department at St Piran’s. He’ll do a thorough reassessment.’ He paused a moment, not wanting to give any false hope. ‘There is an operation that works for some sufferers of otosclerosis that involves removing the stapes and replacing it with an artificial plastic bone. It’s high risk and carries a chance of deafness during the operation, but if successful it gives improved hearing and a reduction in the tinnitus. They do the worst ear first. But all this is dependent on what the surgeon has to say when he sees you—and on what risk you want to take.’

  ‘I certainly want to find out about it,’ Adrian enthused, looking much happier than he had when he’d arrived.

  ‘I can’t promise that you will qualify, or that it would work.’

  The man nodded at the warning. ‘I understand. But it’s worth exploring…better than doing nothing and just going on as I am. You live with something for so long and the changes creep up on you slowly, so you learn to live with it. Often it’s only when something unusual or big happens that you realise just how bad things have become and how much you have deteriorated,’ he added and Gabriel frowned, thinking of Lauren and what could be a similar pattern with her sight.

  ‘I’ll write to the consultant and arrange for him to see you,’ Gabriel reassured him, focusing back on his patient. ‘I’m not sure what the waiting time is but we’ll get things moving as quickly as we can in the new year.’

  As Gabriel rose to show Adrian out a few moments later, the man turned at the door and shook his hand. ‘Whatever happens, I can’t tell you what a difference it makes to have someone understand and take me seriously. Thank you so much, Dr Devereux.’

  ‘No problem. Call me any time if you need anything explained or have any problems.’

  His appointments continued smoothly for the rest of the morning and, after tackling some of the mountain of paperwork, he was able to leave and meet up with Oliver for a pub lunch. Lauren had gone out with Chloe for the day to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. He couldn’t wait for her to come home.

  It was the last weekend before Christmas and the shops in Newquay had been manic. Thankful to escape the crowds, Lauren wedged her purchases with Chloe’s in the back of her friend’s car before sinking thankfully into the passenger seat.

  ‘Oh, boy, my feet are killing me.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’ Chloe slid behind the wheel and sighed. ‘I can’t believe we got everything done.’

  ‘I don’t want to see another shop or hear another tinny carol ever again.’

  Chloe chuckled, steering the car out of the parking zone and heading out of town towards home. ‘You’ll get a second wind. Let’s hope Oliver and Gabriel have managed to pick out decent trees. Do you think we were right to entrust the job to them?’

  ‘They’ll be fine.’ Lauren wasn’t so fussed about all the Christmas paraphernalia as Chloe but she kept her thoughts to herself, knowing how miserable Chloe’s childhood had been and how much she wanted this first Christmas with Oliver to be perfect. ‘That set of baby clothes you got for Rachel Kenner’s little boy are so cute.’

  ‘Thanks. I can’t wait to see him. I’m just so relieved both she and the baby are well after the birth. Rachel’s naming the baby Daniel after her father,’ Chloe added, a wobble in her voice.

  Lauren smiled in sympathy. ‘She’s been through so much, the poor girl, but she’s remarkable, the way she’s handled everything.’

  ‘She is. And her aunt and uncle have been wonderfully supportive.’

  Dusk was falling as they arrived back at Gatehouse Cottage and Lauren wasted no time in switching on plenty of lights as soon as she went inside. Foxy greeted her enthusiastically. After she and Chloe had unloaded the car and hidden away their packages, they sank down for a reviving cup of tea while they waited for Gabriel and Oliver to come back. Foxy laid his head on her knee and she stroked him.

  ‘Lauren?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘I want to tell you something.’

  Alerted by the uncertainty mixed with excitement in her friend’s voice, Lauren opened her eyes and looked over at Chloe. ‘Is anything wrong?’

  ‘Nothing, it’s just…’ A blush pinkened Chloe’s cheeks.

  ‘You’re pregnant!’

  ‘No! No, that’s not it.’

  ‘Sorry.’ She sent Chloe a rueful smile. ‘Everyone in

  Penhally seems to have been breeding like rabbits this year! I wouldn’t have been surprised.’

  ‘I know! And I do want children one day. We both do. For now all this is so new to me and I just want time to be alone with Oliver, to enjoy being a couple,’ she explained, her blush deepening.

  Lauren fought a grin. ‘Of course you do.’ Chloe was such a sweetheart and it was obvious that she was more than well loved—and satisfied—thanks to Oliver. As she deserved to be.

  ‘The thing is…’ Chloe’s green eyes sparkled with delight. ‘This is a secret and you can’t tell anyone. Except Gabriel.’

  ‘OK, I promise,’ she agreed, reaching for her tea.

  ‘Oliver and I are eloping.’

  ‘What?’ Lauren nearly dropped her mug she was so sur

  prised at Chloe’s rushed announcement. Setting it safely on the table, she faced her friend. She felt Foxy’s tension at her sudden movements and soothed him. ‘You’re eloping? When?’

  Chloe positively bounced with excitement. ‘Over Christmas. But we don’t want to spoil anything for you.’ Worry momentarily dulled the gleam in her eyes. ‘Gabriel isn’t going back to France for the holiday, is he?’

  ‘I don’t know. We’ve not discussed it,’ Lauren admitted with a frown.

  ‘Well, I know it’s an awful cheek, but Oliver’s asking Gabriel today if he’d mind covering for him. Kate knows I’m taking my remaining week’s holiday, but not why. We’re hoping not to have to tell Nick. You know he ca
n be a bit starchy about things.’

  ‘He does have set ideas,’ Lauren agreed. ‘It’s so exciting, but why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff?’

  It was Chloe’s turn to frown. ‘We’re getting a lot of interference from Oliver’s family. It’s well meant,’ she hastened to explain, ‘but neither Oliver nor I want some huge fuss and production made of it. And with Reverend Kenner gone and no permanent replacement here in Penhally, I’d feel weird getting married in the local church,’ she finished, and Lauren felt a shiver of empathy.

  ‘I can understand that. So what’s the plan? Can you tell me?’

  ‘Oliver has a friend he trained with in London who has a glorious cottage in southern Scotland. He’s loaning it to us. We found out all about it three months ago and got the necessary permissions. We’ve sent the papers back to the registrar and we’re getting married at Gretna in the traditional Old Blacksmith’s Shop! We’ll be back the day after New Year,’ she confided, bubbling over with happiness.

  Chloe’s enthusiasm was infectious and Lauren was thrilled for her. ‘How romantic!’

  ‘I can’t wait! I hope everyone will understand. We plan to have a party for all our friends later in January.’

  ‘Do what’s right for you and don’t worry about anyone else,’ Lauren urged, reaching out to take her hand. ‘You know I’ll support you. I just want you to be happy—and I know Oliver is the man for you. It’s wonderful seeing you together.’

  Tears shimmered in Chloe’s eyes. ‘Thanks.’

  As they talked more about the secret wedding plans it was impossible not to share Chloe’s excitement. Although nothing had been said about Christmas and New Year, Lauren was certain Gabriel would do all he could to cover for Oliver. She’d miss her friends over the holiday, but the thought of being alone with Gabriel held its own appeal. The man was amazing! His dimpled smile pulled at something inside her. And she could listen to him for ever. That softly husky voice with the delicious accent always made her stomach turn over and sent a tingle of awareness down her spine.

  The bond had formed quickly between them. Friendship, respect and trust mingled with instant attraction and high-octane passion deepening and swelling her swiftly growing feelings for him. She tried to live every moment, as they had agreed, and not think about what was going to happen in the future, but it was impossible to imagine not having Gabriel in her life.

  He was a wonderfully inventive lover, exciting, erotic, wicked, challenging her to really let go and experiment. She had never experienced such pleasure, such closeness, such utter bliss as she did with him. He brought all her secret fantasies to life. The desire and passion between them seemed to increase, not diminish, blazing ever hotter with every passing day.

  The only black moments came as she tried to cover up her increasingly scary sight problems. The night blindness was now a major and permanent problem. She was pretty sure that Gabriel had noticed her difficulties, her clumsy moments when her sight failed her, but he’d not brought the subject up and she was grateful. Equally grateful that they had fallen into going home together most nights so she didn’t have to drive. She suspected Gabriel was doing it on purpose but she was too thankful to make an issue of it.

  That Chloe and Oliver were aware of some changes was obvious. Several times Chloe had mentioned painting and Lauren hadn’t been able to explain why she had stopped the thing she had loved so much for so long. In the summer Chloe had noticed changes in the new paintings, changes Lauren herself didn’t want to face up to. When her sight problems had been confined to the dark, she had been able to pretend it didn’t matter, but in the last weeks she had noticed that it took longer for her eyes to adjust to changing light, and it was starting to become difficult to distinguish contrasts, even in daylight or under bright light indoors. In the last few days she’d had odd moments when she’d thought her peripheral vision wasn’t as sharp as usual. She was frightened, unsure what to do.

  ‘You are the only one, apart from Oliver, I can confide in like this,’ Chloe said, and Lauren tried to push her own worries aside. Her friend paused a moment, nibbling her lower lip, the expression in her green eyes serious. ‘You know you can always talk to me about anything, too, don’t you, Lauren?’

  She forced a smile and kept her voice steady, unable to speak aloud the fears that grew more troublesome as the weeks went by. ‘Sure.’ How much longer could she pretend that nothing was wrong?

  Thankfully, Gabriel and Oliver arrived back then, a blast of wintry air sweeping through the cottage as they propped the door open to wrestle a huge, sweetly scented pine tree into the cosy living room. Diverted from her questions, Chloe jumped to her feet, hovering eagerly as the tree, already potted, was positioned, then she threw herself into Oliver’s arms.

  ‘Hi, babe,’ he welcomed her, enfolding her in a hug. Lauren saw him glance at Gabriel before he looked at her. ‘Have you told Lauren?’

  Beaming, Chloe nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Gabriel’s happy to help out and he’s going to cover my shifts for me the week we’re away—and look after Pirate and Cyclops,’ Oliver informed his bride-to-be, laughing as she rushed to hug Gabriel, too.

  ‘Thank you so much!’

  ‘My pleasure, Chloe,’ Gabriel reassured her.

  Lauren stroked Foxy before she, too, rose to her feet. ‘Congratulations, Oliver.’ Smiling, she kissed his cheek. ‘I’m so happy for you both,’ she added, hugging Chloe.

  After enjoying a celebratory glass of wine, Lauren happily agreed when Gabriel suggested they return to the Manor House. ‘I’m sure you and Chloe would like some time alone and I still have another Christmas tree to wrestle with,’ he joked.

  ‘Do you want me to come and help?’ Oliver offered, walking with them towards the front door, Foxy trotting ahead.

  ‘We’ll be fine.’

  It felt odd, standing in the small hallway of her own house, leaving her friends there, as if she were the visitor, and going back with Gabriel to the Manor House where she felt so right and content. She was about to step outside, grateful the lights were illuminating the short pathway, when Oliver stopped her.

  ‘Sorry, Lauren, I forgot. There’s a pile of mail for you,’ he told her, handing her a stack of envelopes held together by an elastic band.

  ‘Thanks.’

  Once at the Manor House, Lauren switched on the lights downstairs and settled Foxy in the kitchen with his food while Gabriel managed to manoeuvre a beautifully shaped tree that smelled as delicious as the one Oliver had bought, into the living room. Lauren joined him. While she may not be as excited about the festivities as Chloe, she was looking forward to decorating the tree with Gabriel and to them spending time together. She thought of the presents she had bought him, now hidden safely away until she had some time alone to wrap them, and hoped he would like them, that she had found the right balance and hadn’t gone too over the top.

  ‘I didn’t see the elopement coming.’ Kneeling on the floor to light the log fire, Gabriel chuckled. ‘Did you?’

  Lauren sat on the sofa, the pile of unopened mail in her lap. ‘No. But I’m not surprised. In fact, I’m delighted for them, they’re so perfect together.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘You’re sure you are OK with taking on the extra shifts? You weren’t planning to go back to France for the holiday?’ she probed cautiously.

  ‘Hell, no.’ Gabriel paused, glancing over his shoulder. ‘I know I’ve been close-mouthed about it, but I’m not in any hurry to go home.’

  Unsure of the issues but having every faith that he not only had his reasons but had done nothing wrong, she placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s OK. I’m certainly not complaining about having the chance to spend the holiday with you—even if we are working for part of it.’

  ‘There’s no one I want to spend Christmas with but you, chérie.’

  The husky words warmed her right through. Smiling, Lauren watched for a moment as Gabriel turned back to tend to the fire, putting some larger
logs on as the kindling took hold. She turned her attention to the mail and sorted through the mixture of bills, letters and cards, including an oversized postcard of Cologne cathedral from Vicky, full of excited news and typical Vicky-isms. Her smile faded, to be replaced by a knot of tension in her stomach when she recognised the Australian stamps and familiar handwriting on an air-mail envelope. For a moment she sat and stared at it then, fingers shaking, she forced herself to open it. A stupid threat of tears pricked her eyes as she looked at the plain card. There was no accompanying letter and nothing written on the inside but two names.

  ‘I know we’ve avoided talking about our families, Lauren, mine in particular,’ Gabriel said, but she barely heard him, focused as she was on the card. ‘Lauren?’ She jumped when Gabriel’s hand settled on her knee and looked up, finding him watching her with concern. ‘What is wrong, ma belle?’

  ‘You said we avoided families—perhaps that’s because family often isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,’ she whispered, sucking in a breath and handing him the card.

  Gabriel opened it, then glanced at her with a frown. ‘Who are John and Betty?’

  ‘The people I called Mum and Dad for the first twenty-five years of my life.’ She managed to say the words without betraying the emotion roiling within her. ‘They became John and Betty the moment they told me I was adopted and the pretence of being my parents ended.’

  Gabriel cursed, taking one of her hands in his. ‘You had no idea until five years ago?’

  ‘No. Don’t get me wrong, they were always kind to me. I had everything I needed in terms of a safe and secure home, guidance, the freedom to go my own way…’

  ‘But not the love and cherishing,’ he suggested when her words trailed off.

  She sighed and ran the fingers of her free hand through her hair. ‘I never felt as if I belonged. Like a cuckoo in the nest, I didn’t fit. I still don’t understand why they waited so long to tell me. Worse was the realisation that had they known they could have their own children after all, they would never have adopted me. I was always second best. Clive was born after I had been with them for two years and they couldn’t exactly give me back.’