Wedding Bells for the Village Nurse

by Abigail Gordon

  ‘I’m afraid that Dr Devereux has gone back to Hunters Hill Hospital,’ Ethan told them as the patient collapsed on to the nearest chair. Calling for Jenna to join him while he examined the man, he asked the wife to unbutton her husband’s shirt, and doctor and nurse stared in surprise at the sight of the tell-tale signs of shingles again.

  ‘How long have you had shingles?’ Ethan asked, pointing to the bright red blisters arrayed across the left side of his chest like a scattering of oddly shaped rubies.

  ‘What? Oh, about a week,’ was the answer.

  ‘And have you already had chickenpox?’ he questioned, and the man nodded. ‘So the pain might be coming from the shingles.’

  ‘I’ve had no pain from them so far,’ he protested.

  ‘That is odd,’ Ethan commented. ‘Pain is the name of the game with shingles, and you haven’t got the usual signs of heart failure, such as shortage of breath, sweating and blueness of the face.’

  ‘I know!’ he groaned, ‘but the pain is in the same place as when I had the heart attack.’

  ‘Then I think you should go to the hospital anyway and get fully checked out,’ said Ethan, and called for an ambulance.

  When they’d gone with the sirens of a second ambulance breaking into the silence of the village that morning, Jenna said, ‘That’s the second shingles case and they aren’t connected in any way. What do you think is going on?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘The antiviral tablets take away some of the pain, but not all of it, by any means. I’m wondering if that fellow is getting an accumulation of the shingles pain because he hasn’t had any so far. We’ll have to wait until we get the report from the hospital and, with Hunters Hill in mind, Jack Enderby rang last night to say that George is home and singing the praises of yourself and another miracle worker who shall be nameless.’

  When the morning was over and she’d cycled home, her father met her at the door and said, ‘A bouquet of flowers has arrived for you, Jenna. They’re in your room. Can I make a guess who they’re from?’

  She was already halfway up the stairs, but stopped and went back down to where he was smiling up at her. Kissing him on his weathered cheek, she said, ‘There is only one person I want them to be from, Dad. Keep your fingers crossed for me.’

  ‘Lucas Devereux?’

  ‘Yes, who else?’

  ‘You know that your mother is very taken with him, don’t you, which is a major step towards peace in our time. A top surgeon and charismatic with it. What more could she ask for in a son-in-law?’

  ‘Someone who really loves me, maybe?’

  He didn’t delve into the complexities of that, just gave her a gentle push and said, ‘So go and see who your flowers are from.’

  They were from Lucas, long-stemmed cream and yellow roses and blue irises. As she picked up the card that was with them, the words on it, written in a bold hand, said briefly, ‘Thank you for last night. It was a lovely thought.’

  One step forward, she thought achingly as she sank down onto the bed with them in her arms, and hoped that Lucas wasn’t suffering from chronic indigestion due to his overeating of the previous night.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE snow had been and gone in a couple of days, so swiftly, so soon, it was hard to believe it had actually fallen, but it had and with it had come the reminder that Christmas was coming, not yet, but soon enough for the festivities committee to start making preparations for what were to be the two highlights of the season in Bluebell Cove.

  It was the combination of coast and countryside that made Jenna love the place so much, and this time it had been decided that as well as having a big Christmas tree in the centre of the village, there should also be another on the headland overlooking the sea, and that on Christmas Eve the villagers would dress up in their finest, take a partner, and dance from one to the other with music laid on, followed by a buffet at the community centre.

  Before that, in mid-December, there was to be a nativity play, performed on the beach between tides instead of in the old Norman church that stood in the centre of the village.

  Both ideas had been welcomed wholeheartedly because of their special appeal, and along with other regular festivities being planned, the village was gradually getting organised for the season.

  In the normal way of things Jenna would have been at the heart of the preparations, but this time Christmas loomed as an ordeal to be got through.

  Not so for Meredith from the Mariner’s Mooring guest house. They were already fully booked for Christmas and New Year, and she seemed to have the polymyalgia well under control each time she came for an ESR blood test, so at least someone was happy.

  Jenna hadn’t spoken to Lucas after receiving the bouquet but had sent him a brief thank-you note and waited for what was coming next…if anything.

  In the meantime, the days dragged by slowly. Until Friday lunchtime when she came out of the surgery to go home and found him leaning against the wall that separated the practice from the road.

  ‘Would you be free to go for a meal this evening?’ he said without wasting words. ‘It’s the first night I’ve had off since we last met and I wouldn’t be here now if two big operations hadn’t been postponed. So what do you say, Jenna?’

  ‘I say do you still stop off for something to eat on your way home?’

  He observed her questioningly for a moment and then said between a laugh and a groan, ‘I know who told you that. Wait until I see Ethan! Yes, I have been doing that, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying the spaghetti bolognese. But I won’t be eating tonight, in the hope that you will let me wine and dine you. Will you?’ he asked her again.

  ‘Yes. I would like that, as a friend. What time must I be ready?’

  He’d got the message. It said don’t mess with my feelings, but he gave no sign and said equably, ‘I realise that you’ll want to see your mother settled for the night first, so maybe you should suggest a time.’

  ‘Is half past eight all right?’

  ‘Of course. Do you want to go in the Red Peril or the Mercedes?’

  ‘I don’t mind, it’s up to you. Where will we be going, exactly?’

  ‘There’s a hotel further along the coast that serves good food and has fantastic views from the dining room in daylight, which of course will be well gone by the time we arrive. But tonight there will be a full moon so we might still be able to soak up some of the atmosphere. It’s just the sort of place for friends to meet,’ he said with gentle mockery.

  ‘You seem to know,’ she parried. ‘How many times have you been there?’

  ‘None. I’ve always lacked the impetus before, though I’ve heard excellent reports of it.’ Then, his tone becoming more brisk, he went on, ‘But you were about to go home for lunch and I’m taking up your time, so eight-thirty it is, Jenna. I’ll see you then.’

  As she cycled home she was wishing she hadn’t made the jibe about being just friends. She wanted them to be lovers before all else, and friends because they were lovers, not the other way round. Nevertheless, she’d meant the comment as a reminder to Lucas that she was still intending that he should have a lesser role in her life.

  That kind of reasoning lasted until he came to pick her up dressed in well-cut tweeds with a shirt that most men would die for, and with hand-made shoes on his feet.

  He had dressed up for her, she thought as her heartbeat quickened, but, then, he would. Lucas Devereux never did things by halves and that brought her down to earth. It was the reason why she was living in limbo, the reason why he wasn’t going to commit himself to the blonde that he’d first seen flirting with the lifeguard. The easy-peasy one who wasn’t fussy who she slept with.

  Yet he knew from the conversation he’d heard between the two doctors that day at the hospital that she didn’t sleep around.

  And now he was holding the car door open for her to get in and tuning into her lack of enthusiasm at the same time. Yet she was dressed in the colours he loved to see her
in, cream, gold and blue, the colours of the flowers in the bouquet he’d sent her, so maybe he was mistaking her mood.

  She was wearing a long cream skirt with a pale yellow top and a bright blue linen jacket and as she settled into the passenger seat of the Mercedes Jenna was smiling, her darker thoughts put to one side in the pleasure of being with him once again.

  Tonight their closeness in the car was not going to be a barrier, she’d decided. When she’d told him she preferred to walk that other time after her impulsive and clumsy attempt to bring him some cheer on a cold winter night it had been different.

  On both occasions they hadn’t seen each other for weeks but this time it hadn’t been a case of her sneaking into his house without being invited. He’d been waiting outside the surgery to extend the invitation on the first day he was free and had made it clear that he wanted her to say yes.

  As the car moved smoothly along the coast road with the full moon that Lucas had promised her shining above, she gave herself up to the promise of a better understanding between them.

  She is so beautiful, he was thinking, and so straightforward. Would she be better off with some local guy as easy to get on with as herself, instead of being caught up in the aftermath of the hurts he’d endured from a man he hadn’t known, and a woman that he had trusted? But he loved her and wanted to make her happy. He’d gone into a jeweller’s in the town the day before and chosen a ring with sapphires as blue as her eyes and diamonds that sparkled as brightly as Jenna did when she was happy.

  Before he’d left The Old Chart House he’d considered whether to take it with him. It would be simple to put it in his pocket and if the opportunity arose ask her to marry him, but that wasn’t his way.

  His love for Jenna was for life. If she said no when he asked her he would stay on his own for ever, so the asking wasn’t going to be a spur-of-the-moment affair with her dubious about his feelings. Tonight was going to be the first step towards the future.

  When they arrived the restaurant was filling up, it being Friday night, but a hovering waiter was quick to take them to their table once he knew they had a reservation.

  As Lucas seated himself opposite her, Jenna felt like pinching herself to see if she was awake because tonight she wasn’t crouched in the window seat hoping for a glimpse of the car moving along the road to Bluebell Cove. He was here in the flesh, watching her with the dark hazel gaze that would hold her heart for ever.

  There was a dance floor and when they’d eaten he rose to his feet, took her hand in his and said, ‘Are you in the mood?’

  ‘Yes,’ she told him laughingly, ‘and please take note I’m in all the right colours, no black like that other time.’

  ‘So you haven’t forgotten that?’

  ‘Er, no.’

  They were on the dance floor now. He was holding out his arms and as she went into them Jenna thought that if this was just a one-off occasion, at least it would be something to remember. Yet she couldn’t refrain from asking, ‘So, Lucas, what has changed? We don’t see each other for ages and then you send me flowers and invite me to dine with you.’

  ‘It might be because since I found you in the kitchen that night I’ve begun to hope that you don’t hate me as much as I imagined you did, and are not as repelled at the thought of me touching you as you were the last time we were on the beach together. Does that answer your question?’

  She had stiffened in his arms. ‘That was said in hurt and anger. I saw you going back to work at the hospital without telling me as another instance of being kept on the edge of your life, especially as it was my suggestion that you do that.’

  ‘So I gathered, but you were wrong. I’d been working up to telling you all week that I’d decided to take your advice and go back to the hospital, but I was still having my dark moments and was concerned that I might be doing the wrong thing, and if I was, I didn’t want you to feel hurt or in any way responsible because you’d suggested it. So I kept putting off telling you until it got to Sunday and I knew I had to do it then or it would be too late.’

  ‘And when you came I wasn’t there, was I?’ she said as light began to dawn.

  ‘No, you weren’t, and I was sickened at my own stupidity. So do we understand each other a little better?’

  ‘Yes, we do. I made too big a thing of it, I suppose, but it did make me feel surplus to requirements.’

  His arms had tightened around her and with his lips against her hair he murmured, ‘Never that! Never, ever that!’ But she didn’t hear him above the music.

  When it stopped and they were leaving the dance floor he said, ‘Shall we go on to the terrace for a few moments? I love to watch the sea in the moonlight.’

  ‘Yes, so do I, and I love surfing in moonlight even more,’ she said, her glance on the dancing waves.

  It was a cold night but still, and Jenna thought she would have said yes to going outside if it had been blowing a gale, every second with Lucas was so precious.

  ‘Stay there,’ he told her, and went to retrieve her jacket from the cloakroom. As he held it for her to put her arms in she could feel his breath on the back of her neck and resisted the temptation to swivel round so that her mouth would be close to his.

  ‘You know what I wish?’ she said softly as they looked down onto age-old rocks bedded into golden sand that was forever welcoming and saying goodbye to the tides.

  ‘What?’ he asked, hoping that it was something that would add to the wonder of the moment.

  ‘That we had our surfing equipment with us.’

  ‘You can’t be serious!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s a winter evening, and we’re all dressed up.’

  ‘We have facilities for hiring out surfboards and wetsuits,’ a member of staff who’d overheard their conversation told them. ‘This part of the coast is renowned for some of the best surfing in Devon. There are changing rooms with lockers to keep your belongings safe while you’re out there.’

  ‘So?’ Jenna said, smiling up at him, eyes bright with anticipation, and he thought the last thing he’d had in mind had been for surfing to be the finale of the evening. Yet it was what they’d been doing when they’d first met and as such the activity would always be special in his life as well as hers if her present enthusiasm was anything to go by.

  When they came out of their respective changing rooms ready for action he smiled at the vision they presented and said, ‘I thought I was the one prone to doing the unexpected, but this is…’

  ‘Crazy?’

  ‘Mmm, yes.’

  ‘I haven’t been in the sea for ages, which is most unusual,’ she explained. ‘The last time was when I was caught in a rip tide and you dragged me out of it.’

  ‘Maybe the memory of that is why you haven’t wanted to surf,’ he suggested.

  ‘Yes, that, and one or two other things,’ she replied, ‘but I can feel the pull of the sea tonight. It must be the thought of surfing in the moonlight.’

  ‘So let’s do it!’ he cried.

  There was always a feeling of exhilaration in surfing, challenging the might of the sea, and this time was no different, except that they were together, in harmony for the first time in weeks, and she wanted the night to go on for ever.

  ‘Was that good?’ he asked as they drove back to Bluebell Cove, long past midnight.

  She turned to face him in the shadowed light of the car. ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘It was all good—the meal, the moonlight, and the surfing, which like life has you in control one moment and the next floundering when the board tips up.’

  He was giving her a long thoughtful look and, wishing she hadn’t made the comparison, she asked, ‘Are you going to be able to relax over the weekend?’

  ‘No chance,’ he replied. ‘The two operations that were postponed are rescheduled for then. I might take Monday off, though.’

  ‘Have you had any bad moments since you went back?’ she asked with the memory of them attending the little girl on the cliffs and George Enderby’s heart a
ttack, both occasions when she’d known he’d been under stress and had overcome it.

  He smiled. ‘Just a couple, but thankfully they soon passed.’

  ‘Have you any regrets?’

  ‘No, I haven’t, at least not regarding that, but I do have a regret about something else and we both know what that is.’

  ‘Do we?’

  ‘Yes, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, Jenna.’

  ‘I’m not! It could be a few things, such as you not telling me you were going back to work at the hospital and me having to find out from Ethan. Or you being so adamant that you didn’t want to sleep with me when somehow your kisses always suggested that you did, and when, apparently, some other men would be eager to do so given the chance.’

  ‘I’m not other men.’

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know already!’

  As he was about to reply she put her finger against his lips and said, ‘Subject closed, Dr Devereux.’

  He laughed. ‘You think so, do you, Nurse Balfour? We’ll see about that.’

  At that moment Four Winds House came into view and Jenna thought that in a few seconds the magical night would be over and she still didn’t know if it was a one-off occasion. The only time Lucas had touched her tonight had been when they’d been dancing and that didn’t count for much, not when she was melting with longing.

  He’d stopped the car at the bottom of the drive and she was holding the door handle ready to get out when he reached across and took both her hands in his. Holding them palms upwards he bent and kissed each one in turn before saying softly, ‘Sleep well, golden girl.’ Then, releasing them, he went round to the passenger side and held the door while she got out.

  When she’d found her door key he walked up the drive with her, and taking it from her he opened the door and said, ‘Make sure that you lock it behind you, Jenna.’ And as she stood transfixed with disappointment he went back to the car and drove off.