Christmas in Bluebell Cove (13 page)

He sighed. ‘That's true enough, Barbara, but where is all this leading? I don't think even you can suggest a solution.'

‘Don't underestimate me,' she said with a dry laugh. ‘I have a plan that might work to the satisfaction of you, me, Francine
and one other person.
'

He smiled. ‘I'm afraid you've lost me.'

‘Not for long, I promise. I can't tell you what it is at this moment but I should soon be able to and then it will be up to you. So will you trust me on this?'

‘I've never had cause not to, have I?' he replied. ‘So, yes, of course I'll trust you, though you've left me extremely curious.'

She was getting slowly and painfully to her feet, reaching for her stick and telling him, ‘Like I say, it won't be for long, and now will you join us for a glass of wine? Keith and I usually indulge around this time.'

Later that evening he walked home thinking that maybe Barbara was cracking up, fantasising, but it was kind of her to be concerned about him and he put the strange conversation out of his mind and turned his thoughts to what the children had said they would like for Christmas. He wanted to give Francine something that would make her really happy, but so far hadn't thought of anything that was going to achieve that in the present climate.

 

The valuations she'd asked for were coming through slowly, too slowly, Francine felt, eager to let Ethan see how much she loved him. Some of them were higher than the first, others lower, and she was wishing she'd taken more care in getting the right selling price for the house before leaving it. There was just one left to come and then she would decide.

She was still working mornings at the surgery, against Ethan's wishes now that the pregnancy was so far advanced, but as she insisted that she felt fine and as it was flu vaccination time, he was going along with it.

Charlotte Templeton had popped in to tell her that the chemotherapy that the oncologist at the hospital had prescribed had resulted in some improvement of the Paget's disease. Francine had been able to reassure her that a report she'd received from them had confirmed that, and the popular headmistress had left with a lighter heart.

 

There'd been no further cryptic meetings with Barbara and Ethan's curiosity was dwindling as the silence from that direction confirmed his surmise that she was starting to be confused, even though she was the last person he would have ever expected it to happen to.

There had also been no recent weekends in France for Francine and he wondered why, but decided that the less it was mentioned the better, quite unaware that now the die had been cast Francine wasn't going to go back because it would hurt too much, even though the decision had given her the peace of mind she'd sought.

He was to find that he'd been wrong about Barbara
with the razor-sharp mind. He'd done her an injustice by taking it for granted that her mind was failing. It was definitely not the case.

Another phone message had him calling again at the house on the headland and this time everything became clear, so clear that he was dumbstruck at the shrewdness of what she was suggesting.

‘You know that when I had to retire you were the only person I could trust to take over from me, don't you, Ethan?' was her opening comment. He nodded and she went on to say, ‘There is one other person who has my respect as much as you have, and that's my nephew Harry.

‘Suppose he was available to take your place and by doing so could leave you free to live in France with your wife and family, how would you feel about that?'

‘Are you telling me that Harry is leaving Australia to come back here?' he asked, his voice hoarse with amazement. ‘Since when, Barbara?'

‘Since he lost his wife in an accident. He's coming back to his roots and Francine wants to go back to hers, doesn't she?'

‘Er, yes, she does,' he said slowly, as what she was suggesting sank in.

Harry Balfour had been a great guy when they'd worked together in the practice in the old days as G.Ps with Barbara in charge. It would be good to see him again.

He'd married an Australian girl he'd met on holiday and had gone to live in Australia and practise medicine there, and now it seemed that sadness had come into his life.

‘But would you be willing to make that sort of sacrifice?' she was asking.

‘Yes, I would,' he said levelly. ‘It wouldn't be a sacrifice if it made our marriage whole again. I've sometimes thought I'd like to do the same as Harry did, get involved in the medical side of things in another country. So is it definite that he's going to be free to take over?'

‘Yes. I'm pretty sure. We've spoken at length about it, but I didn't want to involve you until I was certain. I'll speak to him again the first chance I get, but don't say anything to Francine until Harry has confirmed his intentions.'

 

As he walked home Ethan was in a daze. From the most unlikely source had come an answer to months of heart-searching and he couldn't wait to see Francine's face when he told her that her dream might be about to materialise. But before he said anything he had to be sure that Harry Balfour was available to take over the practice and that Kirstie and Ben would be happy to live in Paris permanently.

Francine had said she thought them saying they wanted to live in Bluebell Cove all the time was a ploy to get them all living together rather than reluctance to live in France. So he was going to have to make sure she was right. And that they would be as happy living there as they were here,
as long as he could promise them that both their parents would be there with them.

He recollected that there had been plenty of friends on the scene near the French house when the three of them had surprised Francine by turning up unexpectedly that
time, but he needed to hear from their own mouths what they thought about it as a permanent arrangement.

 

It was a week before he heard from Barbara again. It seemed that Harry had been out of town, visiting friends, and hadn't expected to hear from her so soon. The answer when it came was that he would love to take over the practice from Ethan and would be free of his commitments over there by the middle of January.

That meant a chat with the children was his first priority without a word to Francine who he knew, like himself, would put their happiness first.

If they had no problem with the move then would come the special moment when he would be able to tell her that he was ready to do what she'd asked him to do so many times, that the long wait was over.

 

It was Saturday morning and Kirstie and Ben were watching television when he went across to Thimble Cottage. He'd watched Francine drive off to do some shopping so he took the opportunity to put the question to them.

When he asked them if they would like to live in France all the time they observed him doubtfully and, reading their expressions, he said, ‘I mean all of us.'

Ben was the first to speak in the silence that followed the question. ‘And would we go to the same school where we went before?' he questioned.

‘I don't see why not,' he told him. ‘We can check on that.'

‘Yes, then,' was the reply. ‘We said we didn't like it over there because we wanted to live with you and Mum
at the same time, but actually it was just as great living there as it is living here, wasn't it, Kirstie?'

‘Yes, it was,' she agreed, ‘but what does Mum say?'

‘She doesn't know yet, so please don't say anything. I'm going to tell her tonight that I've found someone to take charge of the practice and that we're all going to live in Paris.'

 

The last valuation had arrived that morning. Francine had made a decision on which to choose and was going to ring the company first thing Monday morning to instruct them to put the house up for sale.

Now she could spring the big surprise on Ethan and watch the happiness on his face when he heard what she had to say. Tonight they would share the same bed, sleep in each other's arms with the little kicking one between them, and she would be content.

She rang him when she got back from the shops and said, ‘Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?'

‘I'd love to,' he told her, and hoped the children hadn't forgotten their promise not to say anything before they'd gone to the birthday party of one of their friends. They'd been invited to stay the night, which fitted in nicely with what he had planned, leaving Francine and him with the place to themselves.

 

When she opened the door to him it was clear that she'd dressed for the occasion, overdressed, he decided, if she didn't know what he'd come to say, in a flowing, gold-embroidered kaftan that concealed her pregnancy and with soft golden slippers on her feet.

On the other hand,
she
might think that
he
was acting
a bit over the top. He'd brought her flowers, a huge bouquet of cream roses, and her surprise at the gesture told him that Francine knew nothing of what he had to tell her.

Yet when he saw the table set out with the best china and cutlery he wasn't so sure, and when the food she'd cooked turned out to be some of the French dishes that he loved he was even less sure.

When they'd finished the meal and were sitting by the fire with their coffee he cleared his throat. The moment had come that Francine had long waited for. He was about to show her what really came first in his life, and it wasn't the job.

She was placing her cup and saucer carefully onto the small table beside her and before he could speak she said softly, ‘I have something to tell you that is very special, Ethan.'

‘Go ahead, then,' he said evenly, and thought that whatever it was it couldn't be as ‘special' as what he had to tell her. He wished he'd been able to have his say first.

‘I'm putting the house in Paris on the market,' she was saying with eyes bright with the anticipation of his delight. ‘I'm accepting a valuation I've been given and am going to ring first thing Monday to instruct the company to undertake the sale of it.'

If she
was
expecting delight, she didn't get it.

‘What? Why?' he cried. ‘For goodness' sake, don't do that, Francine!'

‘Why do you say that?' she asked blankly. ‘Don't you understand? I can't hold out any longer. I need to be with you all the time, Ethan. Without you I might as well not exist.'

‘I don't want you to come back here to live.' he continued in the same raised tone. ‘You can't sell the house in France. You're going to need it.'

She was deathly pale. ‘Are you telling me that you have someone else to love—yes? Maybe it is Phoebe, eh? You concern yourself about her all the time.'

He groaned. ‘There is no one else. There never has been. There never will be.'

‘Yet you tell me I will need the house! Please go, Ethan. I was willing to give up my dream for you because I love you so, but it's too late for us. You don't want me any more, do you?'

She had one foot on the bottom of the stairs as he said in a low voice, ‘You aren't the only one who will need the house, Francine, we all will. I'm resigning from the practice and we're going to live in France. So, you see, the dream isn't lost, it is alive and well.'

She turned slowly to face him, transfixed. ‘It is what I have wanted so much,' she breathed, ‘but I can't let you do that, Ethan. The practice is your life.'

He shook his head. ‘No.
You
are my life, Francine.'

There were tears on her lashes. ‘But who will take your place?' she choked. ‘Leo hasn't been with you long enough, although he's good at the job, and the folks in Bluebell Cove won't take kindly to a stranger. They're used to having doctors that they know and can trust in charge of the practice.'

‘And that is what they're going to get,' he told her with quiet satisfaction. ‘It's sorted. Harry Balfour is coming back to the UK to live and wants to return to the life of a country G.P—in Devon.'

‘I don't believe it,' she whispered.

He was smiling. ‘You have to. The children are all
for it. We had a chat this morning and you were right in what you thought. They are happy to live in either place as long as we're all together, and if you'll come closer I'll show how much of a one-woman man I am, then maybe you won't keep trying to fob me off onto Phoebe.'

W
HEN
the children were dropped home on Sunday morning they found their parents enjoying a leisurely breakfast at Thimble Cottage and in the hall was an assortment of suitcases.

‘We're not going to France today, are we?' Ben cried.

‘No, of course not,' Ethan told him. ‘Your mother is moving back into our own house and inside the cases are her clothes and yours.'

‘We are staying here in Bluebell Cove until after the baby is born,' Francine told them. ‘And then we go to Paris to live. I am told that you are happy to go and am so delighted.'

It had been a magical night, Ethan was thinking as Kirstie and Ben perched on either side of her on the sofa. They'd made plans, made love, made promises they would keep for ever.

At one point he'd held her face tenderly between his two hands and looking deep into her eyes had said, ‘The new life that is waiting for us both in France will be like sailing into calm waters after a storm, Francine. All we need now is the safe arrival of the other new life that you're carrying.'

 

Francine had been right when she'd said that the people in Bluebell Cove were accustomed to doctors that they knew as friends as well as representatives of the NHS, and when the news began to filter through that Ethan was resigning and leaving the village, there was much dismay.

Until reassurance came in the form of an announcement from the surgery explaining that Harry Balfour was coming back from Australia to take his place and everyone settled back into their previous contentment as there were not many who hadn't known and liked the man.

As for Ethan and his family, the villagers had only to look at him and his pregnant French wife to know that they were more than content with the future they were planning for themselves.

They'd been told that they would be most welcome to call if ever they were in Paris and it went without saying that call they would if the opportunity arose to catch up with the doctor who'd had all Barbara Balfour's dedication without her brittle outer shell.

The changeover at the surgery wasn't going to take place until mid-January. The baby was due in the new year and Francine wanted the birth to stay as planned in the same hospital that Kirstie and Ben had been delivered in.

Harry was not expected to arrive in Bluebell Cove until near the end of January, which suited Francine and Ethan as it meant they would be around for his parents over Christmas and New Year in case they were needed, though his father's condition was much improved to the relief of all concerned, including his wife,
especially his wife
!

‘We might find ourselves a place over there when Grandpa is a little better,' Jean had said when she'd heard they were moving across the Channel.

‘Not too near you, yet not too far away.'

Her son and daughter-in-law had welcomed the idea as that really would be all the family together in the same place if Ethan's father's health caused any further problems.

 

To their parents' relief and the children's approval, the school near Paris had confirmed that they would readmit Kirstie and Ben as soon they were settled in the area and the formalities had been dealt with, removing the last cloud in their sky as far as Ethan and Francine were concerned.

As winter tightened its grip on Bluebell Cove, with frosty mornings and hazy sunshine replacing autumn's glorious golden days, the four of them settled down to await the promises of the new year, and in the meantime gave their energies to the coming Christmas.

 

Francine and Ethan had gone shopping one Saturday for things for the baby and Christmas presents for Ben and Kirstie.

Their first call was to the nursery department in one of the large stores where an abundance of the kind of things they needed was on display, cribs. baby baths and clothes to mention a few items, and as they strolled from counter to counter, holding hands, she said softly, ‘I can't believe we're doing this, Ethan, shopping for our extending family. I'm so happy I could burst.'

‘Me too,' he replied. ‘Every time I move in the
night and feel you beside me it's magic, Francine, so wonderful that it's scary.'

 

When they'd bought for the child yet to come and arranged for delivery of their purchases, they went to buy for the children already in their lives. Ben had asked for a guitar as his main Christmas present and Kirstie was coveting a pink mobile phone.

When they'd finished shopping and were going back to the car Ethan said, ‘I want to give you something really special as my Christmas gift. Is there anything you would like that I don't know about?'

‘Not a thing,' she told him. ‘You've already given me the most precious gift of all by giving up the practice to make my dream come true. I know how much that has cost you, Ethan, without you ever having to put it into words.'

He smiled down at her. ‘There is no price on what I've done. The opportunity came out of the blue and I grasped it before it disappeared.' With his gaze on where the baby lay warm and secure inside her, he added, ‘I'm not the only one with precious gifts to offer, am I?'

 

There was activity at the church as they drove by on their way home and they went in to find the vicar's wife and helpers getting it ready for the coming season with holly and other fresh greenery gracing the window sills, a nativity scene at the front and a Christmas tree tastefully decorated at the end of one of the aisles.

As they exchanged cheerful greetings the vicar's wife said, ‘We have just had Jenna and Lucas here, and if their baby arrives in time for the Sunday before
Christmas, she's going to let us place it in the crib when we do the nativity play. Won't that be lovely?'

Ethan was laughing as they left the church and when she asked what the joke was he said, ‘I can't see Lucas being happy about his newborn lying in that old crib. It's been around for years gathering dust. If the baby arrives in time, just watch—it will be in its mother's arms instead of the crib.'

The first of the children that Jenna had promised Lucas on their wedding night was due a couple of weeks before Christmas, so there
was
a chance that it might be the star performer in the nativity play, with its mother taking second place dressed in the familiar blue robes that came out of storage each year for the event.

 

After much discussion Francine had persuaded Ethan to agree to them keeping the house in Bluebell Cove for coast and countryside breaks amongst old friends and acquaintances. He had been of a mind to sell it and make a clean break, but she had reasoned that although they were moving to France, a part of all four of them, him in particular, would always belong in Devon.

He'd originally wondered if Harry would be interested in either buying or renting their house, but before he'd had the chance to mention it to him the other man had asked if either of the apartments above the surgery was vacant and when Ethan had told him that one of them was, having not yet approached Leo about it, Harry had said that would suit him fine.

When he'd told Francine about the arrangement she'd said, ‘But weren't you going to offer it to Leo after agreeing that Phoebe could rent the other one?'

‘Yes, I was,' he'd replied, ‘but he seems happy enough
where he is for now. Harry does need to have somewhere he can move into straight away when he arrives and both apartments
are
furnished. I don't want to leave any loose ends when we've gone.'

 

If Christmas hadn't been in the offing, the days would have dragged to the birth of their child, which would be followed by their exodus across the Channel. But there was so much to do getting ready for the festivities and planning the next two big events in their lives that December seemed to be moving along fast, and as each day came Francine thought thankfully how different this Christmas was going to be from the last when she'd arrived without invitation, desperate to see her children and facing a new year that had held little promise of peace between Ethan and herself.

But the love they had for each other had triumphed in the end and brought reason and understanding into their lives. One day soon she was going to thank Barbara for her farsightedness and understanding. With the shrewdness that was so much a part of her she'd shown the two men that she cared for deeply the way ahead for each of them.

 

Jenna had given birth to a beautiful little girl they'd named Lily and been home from hospital a couple of days later, which had meant that the vicar's wife was going to get her wish on the Sunday before Christmas Day. A real live baby for the nativity scene held in her mother's arms instead of lying in the crib, as Ethan had prophesied.

It would soon be their time for rejoicing, Francine had thought that day as they'd walked home from the
church, and tuning into her thoughts Ethan had said, ‘Our cup runneth over, doesn't it?'

‘It does indeed,' she'd replied.

 

There'd been the dancing through the village on Christmas Eve again, though now they were onlookers instead of part of the throng. It was followed by the Enderbys' ball at Wheatlands Farm and it was there that Francine found the opportunity to speak to Barbara when the other woman was alone for a moment.

‘Thank you for making it possible for Ethan to resign from the practice with an easy mind Dr, Balfour,' she said. ‘I'm so happy I can't believe it, though I do wonder how much he's hurting inside.'

Barbara's wintry smile came into view. ‘He was hurting more when he was without you,' she said, and thought if anyone was hurting it was herself, but only she knew that.

 

As Christmas Day had passed with contentment on all sides Francine and Ethan were not to know that the road to happiness had an unexpected diversion ahead that was going to throw them way off track.

It was on the morning of Boxing Day when Francine started with early labour pains while the children were still asleep and she and Ethan were having breakfast. She gave a sudden gasp of pain and he was by her side in an instant.

‘What is it?' he asked urgently.

‘It is gone now, but it was like a contraction,' she told him. ‘Maybe it will come again but I hope not. It is too early, Ethan, three weeks too early. The other two were late so it can't be. Aagh! It is there again.'

‘Those are pretty fast contractions if they're labour pains.' he said. ‘I'm taking you to the maternity unit at Hunter's Hill, Francine. We'll see what they have to say.

‘Let's go. I'll pop upstairs to tell Kirstie and Ben what's happening and to stay put until they hear from us, and will bring your case down. Having it ready packed was a good idea.'

‘I'm not sure if it was or not,' she commented glumly as they drove along deserted roads towards the town. ‘Maybe I've wished this on myself by being too organised, or perhaps we shouldn't have been taking it for granted that nothing could touch us now.' As another contraction gripped her she subsided into silence.

Ethan was observing her anxiously. The sooner they got to the hospital the better. At that moment Francine cried, ‘It is coming, Ethan! We are not going to get there in time.' He increased speed.

At that moment a cruising police car stopped in front of them and pulled him over. ‘You were speeding, sir,' one of the uniformed officers told him. What's the rush?'

‘This is the rush!' he cried, pointing to Francine. ‘My wife is going to give birth any second and I'm going to need your assistance.'

‘What? To deliver it?' the policeman said, taking a step back at the thought.

Ethan was helping Francine into the back seat and laying her gently across the cushions to examine her and he called over his shoulder, ‘No. I'm going to take charge of the delivery. I'm a doctor.'

‘OK,' was the reply. ‘Just tell us what you want us to do and we'll do it.'

He saw immediately that she was right. The baby's head was already visible. ‘Please tell me I can push!' she begged. ‘I don't think I can hang on any longer.'

He was grabbing a towel that they always kept on the ledge above the back seat in case any of them went into the sea unprepared, and putting it in position he said gently. ‘Push as hard as you like, Francine.'

She did and seconds later he told her, ‘We have a son, Francine. Henri has arrived.'

‘Is he all right?' she asked anxiously. ‘The speed of his arrival hasn't hurt him?'

‘He is perfect,' he assured her. ‘And now we need to get you to hospital. The placenta needs to come away, but hopefully it will wait until we get there.'

‘Let me see him first,' she said, and he held up a crying infant for her to feast her eyes on, and then wrapped him in the towel.

 

They were in the delivery room at the hospital after following the police car with its siren blaring in the peaceful Boxing Day morning. Staff had been waiting for them after receiving a message from the two officers to say that a mother and newborn baby were on their way.

Henri had been cleaned up by one of the nurses and the obstetrician in charge had declared him to be the equivalent of full term with his arrival having been so near the due date, but they would keep a close watch on him for any signs of distress.

The placenta had come away easily enough and all would have been well except for one thing. Francine was bleeding heavily. There was cause for alarm.

‘It would seem that we have a postpartum
haemorrhage here,' the obstetrician said. ‘It could be due to a tear where the placenta was attached to the uterus, or because the uterus isn't contracting as it should be after the delivery. Or it could be because part of the placenta is still attached to the womb. Whatever the cause, your wife is going to need a transfusion and is going down to Theatre while we sort out what the problem is.'