‘No disturbance,’ Jane said quickly, ‘I’ll pour you a mug of tea.’
Lyn guessed that he must have just finished evening surgery as he was still in his formal clothes. He said, ‘I was just driving back to the Red Lion. But I’m rather excited about moving in here and I wondered if I could just put my head round the door. If it’s inconvenient then I’ll go at once and …’
‘Of course it’s not inconvenient. If you don’t mind the mess, you can look round as much as you like.’
‘And first you can see my new doll, Rosie,’ Helen said ‘I’m Helen. What’s your name?’
Adam smiled. ‘Hello, Helen. I’m Adam. And I’d love to see Rosie first.’
Helen beamed. ‘This is Rosie over here.’ She stretched up her hand and Adam took it obligingly, to Jane’s obvious delight.
‘Someone’s made a conquest,’ Jane whispered. ‘Don’t you think he’s gorgeous, too?’
Lyn didn’t reply, knowing Jane liked being outrageous occasionally. Instead, she watched him and Helen. The two seemed to get on tremendously well.
After a while he rejoined them and Jane took him on a lightning tour. ‘I’m very impressed,’ he said. ‘I know I’m going to be really happy here. And I gather you’ll be my neighbour, Lyn.’
‘I will. This must be different from your London flat.’
He looked round the living room, glanced at the French windows that opened onto a little back garden. ‘Very different. Here I knocked on a half-open door and a little girl invited me in. In my London flat you ring the doorbell and I inspect you through my closed-circuit television before letting you in. I prefer this.’
He looked at Jane, and then at Helen, who was playing in a corner. ‘I’m not quite sure yet who Helen is.’
Jane explained. ‘She’s the daughter of my sister and Cal’s brother. They were both killed in a car crash a few months ago. So Helen was left an orphan, with just an uncle and aunt. And we decided to make her a home and get married. The three of us are happy and we’re going to be happier.’
Adam turned to look at the little figure playing in the corner. ‘Poor Helen,’ he said. ‘She’s lucky, of course, having you and Cal, but poor Helen.’
Lyn realised that he was genuinely upset. She knew that doctors had to walk a thin line between caring and getting too emotionally involved. It was unusual to see one quite so moved. She thought she liked him for it. ‘You like children?’ she asked.
‘Very much so. For a while I thought of becoming a paediatrician. Then I decided I preferred general medicine.’
Lyn could always trust Jane not to be afraid to ask awkward questions. And now she said, ‘If you like them so much, why haven’t you any of your own?’
His answer was thoughtful, honest. Lyn realised he wasn’t trying to score points or be flippant.
‘I’ve been taking my time. Perhaps I wasn’t ready before. I think I’m nearly ready now. I’m not so busy now. When – and if – I have children I can spend time with them, enjoy watching them growing up.’
Lyn was a bit irritated, she wasn’t sure why. ‘And who’s going to be the lucky mother?’ she asked.
He didn’t rise to her challenge. ‘Not that I’ve found a wife yet but I’m … well, not exactly looking but hoping. Too many people get married too quickly and for the wrong reasons.’
Cheerfully Jane said, ‘You sound like one of your own programmes. I’m sure I’ve heard you say something similar.’
He grinned. ‘Very possibly. But it’s true. After all, if it’s been on telly it must be true.’
They all laughed. After a while he went on, more seriously, ‘When I do get married I want to get it right, find the right woman for me.’
‘Will you know?’ asked Lyn.
Here again he seemed to ponder, to try to give an honest answer. ‘I think I will. And I think the right woman is worth both waiting for and fighting for.’
He stood. ‘Now I must go. I see you’ve plenty to do and I’ve been stopping you doing it. Lyn, I’m looking forward to having you as a neighbour.’
‘Always handy for a cup of sugar,’ said Lyn.
He turned to Helen. ‘Bye, Helen and Rosie. I enjoyed meeting you both.’
Then he was gone.
‘Are you looking forward to having him next door?’ asked Jane.
Lyn had been thinking about this quite a lot, but was still not sure. ‘Possibly,’ she said. ‘I’m sure he’ll be all right. But I knew where I was with you. With him …?’
‘Your life’s going to change, isn’t it?’ Jane asked happily.
Next morning Lyn made a home visit to Annie Prince, a nineteen year old who was expecting her first baby in a couple of months. Annie had been coming regularly to antenatal classes, but Lyn always liked to see the home the baby would live in. Not that there would be any problem with Annie. Lyn had known her and her mother for years.
Annie and her husband Fred had a council house. Lyn looked at the front garden with approval. The perfect lawn and thickly flowered borders showed that Fred was a very keen gardener.
And the house was perfect, too. Annie, both elated and frightened, showed Lyn the newly decorated nursery with the new cot, blankets and baby clothes. And Annie’s mum, living in the same village, was there to keep an eye on things. Lyn guessed that Annie was going to have plenty of support.
Time for a quick examination. Lyn did the usual obs and wrote them up. ‘Nothing whatsoever to worry about,’ she said. Then there was the equally necessary sit-down for a gossip.
‘I heard that that new doctor has been on telly,’ Annie said eagerly. ‘In fact, I’ve seen him. He’s ever so good-looking. And he’s got a lovely voice. Can I sign on to have him, please?’
‘Don’t be so silly, Annie,’ her mother said sharply. ‘Dr Mitchell’s been our doctor for years, and very good, too. You don’t change something good just because you think you’ve seen something better on telly.’
Gently, Lyn said, ‘I think they’re both very good. Why not see what happens nearer the day?’
‘That seems the best thing,’ Annie’s mother said.
But from behind her Lyn heard a mutinous Annie mutter, ‘Other girls think that he’s ever so good-looking, too.’
Lyn was back in the surgery at lunchtime and by chance happened to see Adam in the corridor. She ignored the sudden dart of excitement that flashed through her, caused by the sight of his broad shoulders, his happy smile. It was nothing really. They were colleagues, going to be friends. She was just not used to him yet. Or was there more to it?
‘Your fame is spreading,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I’ve just had the second request to see you because you’ve been on TV.’
‘But I’ve only just got here! How do people know?’
‘Village bush telegraph. If one person knows something, then everyone does. You’ll have to get used to that.’
‘I suppose so.’ He looked rather uncomfortable.
Lyn put her hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll all protect you.’
Adam looked down at her hand, covered it with his own. ‘I appreciate that.’
She was surprised at the effect that his touch had on her. It was almost as if they were holding hands, and his was warm and comforting. He looked at her and she wondered if those grey eyes were telling more than the open, friendly face.
Then a door opened behind them, the receptionist came out and his expression changed. It was hard to say how; it was still friendly, companion-like. But she was sure that there had been something more. But she wasn’t sure what it was.
Jane finished moving that night. Lyn spent the evening with her, shifting the few last things, making decisions and cleaning. It wasn’t a big house and wasn’t dirty, but it was amazing what they found to do.
‘If you stay in one place, you just acquire things,’ Jane grumbled. ‘I’m sure someone comes in and leaves things when you aren’t looking. What am I doing with three half-used pots of marmalade, Lyn? Can I leave you
a couple?’
‘If you want. Aren’t you going to leave anything for the new tenant?’
Jane considered. ‘I don’t think so. Cal says he’s a good doctor, I liked what I saw of him last night, but I don’t think we’re on leaving half-empty marmalade pot terms yet. But you soon will be.’
‘Well, we’re all good friends in the practice,’ Lyn said. ‘We try to help each other. That’s all there will be to it.’
‘Of course,’ said Jane.
The next day, as she was passing at lunchtime, Lyn saw men carrying boxes and furniture out of a furniture van into the empty cottage. The name on the side showed the van had come from London. Adam was moving in promptly, she thought. Of course, he wouldn’t need much. The house was half-furnished already.
That evening she came home as usual, showered and changed into casual clothes. Then she took a deep breath, told herself that she was only being neighbourly and went next door. She found a perplexed Adam, sitting on the floor surrounded by boxes.
‘I’ve come to be neighbourly,’ she told him, ‘or, if you prefer the word, nosy. Can I do anything at all to help? Or would it be better if I just went back home and left you to suffer?’
‘Stay, please, stay,’ he said. ‘Be neighbourly or nosy but, please, stay.’ Together they looked at the piles of books, clothes, files and computer accessories. He pointed to the far wall: ‘I’ve just cleared that wall and fixed up those bookshelves. How do you fancy filling them with these books?’
‘Sounds a good idea: Any special system, order, organisation?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’ll work one out. And while you’re doing that, I’ll take these clothes upstairs then connect the computer.’
‘We’ll do an hour or so,’ she said, ‘then I’ll go back next door, cook a quick meal and bring it round. Then we can finish the job.’
‘That’ll be great! Lyn, I’ve never had a neighbour like you.’
So they did as she’d suggested. After an hour she dashed back home and heated a beef stew she’d kept in her freezer and served it with fruit to follow. Then they worked again.
After a while she discovered that she wasn’t just unpacking and putting away, she was helping Adam make decisions. Where were his pictures to hang, how to organise his kitchen, what to do with these three beautiful Persian rugs. She realised she was homemaking. She also realised that their tastes were very similar.
He had fitted two racks to hold his CDs; she opened a cardboard box labelled ‘CDs’ and looked through at the contents. ‘You’ve got my favourite CDs here,’ she shouted. ‘I love them.’
‘You fancy putting one on?’
‘Great idea.’ She reached over to switch on the CD player as he walked in. ‘And before you unpack the rest of the discs, tell me what other music you like.’
After she’d listed her other favourite singers, she skimmed through the rest of his CDs, and gulped. Their tastes were uncannily alike – he had all the singers she had just mentioned. ‘I didn’t look,’ she said. ‘Honestly, I didn’t look.’
‘I know. We just like the same things. Nice, isn’t it?’
It was nice but she decided to change the subject. ‘What are you doing over there?’ He was arranging something in an alcove and she couldn’t quite see what.
‘Come over and see.’
So she went. The alcove was lit from above, and in it he was hanging a selection of photographs, all in frames. They covered the top half of the alcove. ‘Adam Fletcher, this is your life,’ he said.
Lyn was fascinated, her eyes flitting from picture to picture. Some were obviously medical in origin – Adam with groups of other white-coated students. One of them showed him smiling broadly in cap and gown, holding his diploma over his head. Three or four pictures showed him with girls – all different, all attractive. She felt not jealous but interested. ‘Any of your parents?’ she asked.
Solemnly he pointed to a black-and-white photograph of a group of children. ‘That’s me,’ he said, pointing to one. He was just recognisable, smiling, as he so often did, but looking cautious too.
‘I was brought up in an orphanage,’ he said. ‘This is St Mark’s. Not the ideal way to bring up children, but I was loved and I was happy there.’
She felt for the first time a certain lack of confidence in him, as if he had just shown himself to be vulnerable. ‘Is this why you so much want children of your own?’
He pondered. ‘Possibly. But mostly I want children just because I like them. Now, are you going to pick a CD?’
He didn’t want to talk any more about the orphanage or his upbringing. Well, that was fine. But she felt he had revealed something of himself, and she knew they’d talk more about it some other time.
By ten o’clock they had the house in some kind of order and decided to call it a day. ‘I was very happy staying at the Red Lion,’ he said, ‘but if I had stayed much longer I would have weighed another three stone. It’ll be good to have a place of my own. Now, as a small thank-you, may I take you down there and we can have a celebratory drink together?’
Her first reaction was to say no. She didn’t go out for drinks with men. Then she thought, why not? After all, they were neighbours. For a moment she considered inviting him into her house for coffee. But not just yet. Since Michael had died she’d never entertained a man in her house. But that wasn’t exactly true. What she meant was that she had never entertained a man in her house she could be … interested in. Things were changing.
With a shock she realised that he was still waiting for her answer, a small smile on his face, almost as if he guessed what she had been thinking.
‘Er … yes, why not?’ she mumbled. ‘I mean, that would be very nice. I’ll just nip next door and change. See you in ten minutes? We’re sure to meet someone we know in the Red Lion.’
‘So it won’t be an intimate little get-together, just you and me?’
She laughed. ‘You know the Red Lion. We’ll be surrounded.’
She changed and they walked down to the village together. As she had known, as well as the tourists there were a fair number of locals there. She introduced Adam to Harry Sharpe, husband of Enid, the other district nurse. There were other people she knew, friends as well as patients. Adam bought her a glass of wine and had a beer himself. Then he sat in a corner with her and patiently answered questions about what it was like to appear on television.
‘Do you mind all these questions?’ she whispered to him when they had a minute to themselves.
He shook his head. ‘People are entitled to be curious. And if they ask questions, it means I can ask questions, too. Just so long as they don’t expect me to diagnose in the tap room.’
She laughed. ‘It has been known to happen. But most people here have the right idea.’
‘I never had a life like this in London. I was anonymous there. Here I feel I’m part of a community.’
‘It can be constricting,’ she warned. ‘It’s not always a good thing to have everyone knowing your business.’
‘At least they care. London can be a lonely place.’ Then they were joined again by Harry and had to talk about television again.
It was a glorious evening as they walked home. They paced up the lane leading to their cottages, and when they came out from the shadow of the great oak trees, Adam looked up and said, ‘See the stars. No smog here to hide them.’
‘Beautiful,’ she said curtly. She was feeling apprehensive; she didn’t know how the evening was to end. Would he want to come in for coffee? She didn’t want to have an intimate evening with a man. Well, certainly not yet. Though perhaps in the future things might be different ‘I’m feeling quite tired now,’ she added.
‘I’m not surprised. You’ve had a hard day at work and then spent the evening helping me. You’re entitled to be tired.’
Lyn could hear the amusement in his voice. He had guessed what was worrying her. Well too bad.
Soon they were at her own front door and to her irritati
on she felt herself tensing. Almost in desperation she decided to act so that things would go the way she wanted them to. Quickly she took his arm, reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Then she stepped firmly backwards, out of his reach. ‘I’ve had a lovely evening,’ she gabbled. ‘Welcome to your new home and I hope we’ll be happy neighbours.’
Again there was amusement in his voice. ‘I’m sure we’ll be very happy living … next to each other.’ She was sure that the pause had been deliberate. He went on, ‘There’s no hurry about anything, is there, Lyn? We’re getting to know each other.’
‘No hurry about anything at all. Goodnight, Adam.’ And then she was in her own house, leaning against the closed front door, wondering why she was trembling.
She undressed, put on her nightgown and sat in her living room with her usual mug of cocoa. As she so often did, she gazed at the photograph of her dead husband. It was now three years since the accident. Slowly he was turning into a memory, not a constant part of her life. She still loved him, but she realised that that love wasn’t the open wound on her soul that it had once been. Her life was moving on.
Lyn’s work took her into Keldale the next afternoon. She passed an art shop with a display of pen-and-ink drawings of the Lake District. On impulse she went inside, browsed for a while and then bought two. One she wanted for her own bedroom. The other she thought would do as a house-warming present for Adam. She wrote a short note on the back of Adam’s picture and then had it properly wrapped.
When she got back to her cottage the next evening there was a note pushed through her letter box.
“Dr Adam Fletcher, now at home at Number Two, Dale End Cottages, requests the pleasure of the company of Mrs Lyn Pierce this evening for drinks at eight. (Actually, a glass of sherry.) No need to RSVP. Come if you can.”
Lyn smiled and sat down to write a reply. “Mrs Lyn Pierce thanks Dr Adam Fletcher for his kind invitation to drinks and takes great pleasure in accepting. And I always RSVP.” Then she ran next door and pushed the note through his letter box. She was rather looking forward to the evening.
At seven she ran herself a bath and then searched through her wardrobe for a summer dress, something just a bit showy. She had plenty of dresses, but she didn’t wear them very often any more. After some thought, she decided on a sleeveless dress in a deep yellow shade. She thought it went well with her hair.
Midwife's Baby Wish Page 4
