His Perfect Bride? (7 page)

* * *

Olly and Lula were travelling back in Olly’s car. He drove slowly through the snow, but couldn’t help but glance at Lula to his left to try and gauge how she was doing. She seemed to be staring, unseeing, out of her window at the snow-covered fields and he wondered if he ought to try and talk. Try and break the silence. He wanted to know if she was all right.

‘How are you?’

She turned to him and smiled. Her voice was perky and bright. ‘I’m fine.’

His eyes twitched as he questioned her reply. ‘Really?’

‘Sure.’

‘Because it’s been a bit of a rollercoaster for you since you came to Atlee Wold.’

‘You mean finding an abandoned baby and then having a patient have a heart attack in front of me?’

He glanced back at the road, ensuring he was driving carefully. ‘Well, yeah. That’d be enough to freak anyone out.’

‘I’m not
anyone
.’

He recalled his first sight of her, shaking her hips. ‘I know that.’

‘I’m made of stern stuff, Olly.’

He didn’t doubt it. ‘But finding that baby…having been abandoned yourself. It must have stirred up memories for you?’

‘I don’t recall the actual abandonment part. I was too young.’

‘I know. And then having to do CPR—’

‘I
am
a doctor. I haven’t always been a GP. I once worked in A&E, and we had to do CPR a lot.’

Okay. A little prickly, maybe. This is one side of Lula I haven’t seen yet. But I suppose it’s normal, considering her past.

He decided to change the subject. ‘So…did you find a good book?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘At the library? Did you find a good book?’

‘I wasn’t after a book. I was looking at the electoral roll.’

He understood then. ‘You were looking for your mother?’

‘Four families whose surnames start with the letter L. Two of them have people whose names begin with E.’

‘Right.’

‘Bonnie was telling me about them.’

‘Digging for clues, huh?’

‘All good doctors dig for clues.’

‘Bonnie wasn’t in the role of patient at that
point?’ He steered to avoid a fallen tree branch. ‘What did she tell you?’

‘She told me about Eleanor Lomax and Elizabeth Love.’

‘Elizabeth Love? I’m not sure I know her.’

‘She’s a recluse, Bonnie says. Runs an animal sanctuary, or something.’

He nodded. He recalled that someone did something like that on the edge of the village, but he hadn’t known who. ‘And you’re going to talk to these ladies?’

‘I am.’

‘And say what, exactly? If they’re not who you think they are don’t you think they’ll be a bit taken aback?’

‘One of them will be taken aback if she
is
who I think she is.’

‘You can’t go barging in and asking if they’re your long-lost mother.’

‘Are you telling me what to do, Dr James?’

‘I’m advising. And I’m also looking out for my patients.’

‘They don’t need protecting from me. I’m not scary.’

He smiled. No. She wasn’t scary.
Quirky
, yes, but not scary. ‘I know. But you know what I’m trying to say.’

‘Don’t worry, Olly. I won’t upset anyone and
I’ll be very discreet.’

‘You have I don’t know how many colours in your hair, drive a spotty Beetle, keep rats and spiders, and you’ll be
discreet
?’ He laughed.

She smiled back at him. ‘I
can
be discreet. Just you watch. And it’s spider, singular. I don’t keep spiders, plural.’

‘I do beg your pardon. And you’re not worried about people getting hold of some gossip about you?’

‘They don’t need to gossip about me. They’ve got you for that.’

‘Me?’

‘Of course
you
! You’ve got a list, remember? A list for the perfect wife?’

He felt his cheeks colour.

Ah, yes…that
.

‘It was a joke, and it was a long time ago.’

‘And yet you still don’t have a wife? Why
is
that, Olly? You’re a professional man, good-looking, you work hard, you have good principles. Why no wife?’

‘I don’t need a wife to complete me. I’m happy as I am.’ He stared straight ahead, his eyes on the road.

She looked at him. ‘Even I can tell that’s a forced response.’

‘I am!’

She sat back in her chair. ‘I don’t believe you.’

He shrugged. ‘That’s fine. Though I must say
you’re the most unconventional person I’ve ever met, and yet you have such traditional views. Love and marriage? That’s nice.’

‘You don’t believe in love and marriage?’

‘I do. My parents had a very strong marriage.’

‘So…?’

He quickly glanced at her. ‘So what?’

‘So why do you seem to go out of your way to avoid it?’

‘Is that what I’m doing?’

‘You made a list. Of the attributes your perfect wife must have. You’re looking for perfection, and perfection is unattainable, so you
know
you’re after something that doesn’t exist—therefore you’re not actually looking.’

‘Well, thank you, Sherlock.’ He could sense the twinkle in her eyes.

‘Because perfection is not out there.
She’s
not out there.’

Olly wasn’t enjoying this line of questioning. His brow had become a field of ploughed lines and his eyes had darkened. ‘I don’t think there’s anything wrong in having expectations of a future partner.’ People needed to know where they stood in a relationship.

‘Of course not—if that person has an outside chance of meeting those expectations.’

He glanced across at her. ‘You think my list is unrealistic?’

‘I do. I think any woman couldn’t possibly hope to achieve your high standards.’

‘Does that bother you?’

She paused. ‘No. But
I’m
not trying to go out with you.’

‘Why not?’

Lula laughed in delight. ‘What?’

‘Why aren’t you trying to go out with me?’

She blushed. ‘You’re a colleague.’

‘And you have rules for that sort of thing?’

‘Yes.’

‘But
I
can’t have rules?’ Now he was starting to enjoy the banter. Now
he
was on the offensive.

‘Your list of the attributes a wife must have is not a list of rules. It’s a different thing entirely.’

‘So
you
can say you wouldn’t date a colleague, but
I
can’t say I wouldn’t date a colleague?’

Lula bit her lip. Stuck in her own argument.

Olly indicated to turn left and began to head down a smaller lane, with thicker snow. ‘You can’t be allowed to have a standard, Lula, if I’m not allowed to have one.’

‘I’m not saying that. What I mean is… Oh, I don’t know what I mean. You’ve got me tied in knots.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Saying you’ll only date a blonde is not the same as saying you wouldn’t date a colleague.’

‘Blonde? It’s not a list of
physical
attributes.
What kind of chauvinistic, shallow man do you take me for?’ He was amused.

‘So what
is
on your list?’

He let out a big sigh. ‘Kindness, dedication, loyalty, a love of family, a desire to have children…’

‘Ah, you can strike
me
off the list, then.’

‘You don’t want a family?’ He was surprised. He could imagine Lula with children. She was just the sort to engage young children and he could imagine them being delighted by her, with her crazy hair and fairy-like features.

‘I can’t have a family, Olly. The chemo…it left me infertile.’

Her voice trailed away and he looked at her and saw her head droop. He’d never seen her look so low. It just wasn’t Lula at all. Lula was bright and full of energy—not quiet or sad.

Her answer silenced him for a while. He couldn’t imagine never having children. Or being told he couldn’t. He hoped they were going to be a big part of his life. Technically, once he had had a child for a little while, even though it hadn’t been born.

‘I didn’t know. I’m sorry.’

‘You weren’t to know. Besides…you’re the first person I’ve ever told that to.’

He glanced at her quickly—these roads were
full of S bends. ‘I’m glad you felt you could. I’m really sorry, Lula.’

Olly had counselled people who’d come into his surgery because they couldn’t have children, and he’d always had something to say to them. Why couldn’t he find the exact right words for Lula? Was it different because she was a colleague?

It has to be. It’s not because she’s not my type.

‘You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.’

‘Still…it’s a big part of life that’s being denied to you. You must have felt upset when you were told?’ He knew how upset he’d been when Rachel had told him what she’d done…

‘I was still a child when I found out. It didn’t matter much to me then. It didn’t seem a big deal.’ She shrugged.

‘And now?’ He really wanted to know.

‘And now I can’t let it bother me. I fill my life with other things.’

He smiled. ‘Rats and spiders?’

‘Rats are very intelligent creatures.’

‘And spiders?’

She laughed. ‘Are more of a challenge.’

Olly turned into Lula’s road and pulled up outside Moonrose Cottage. It looked mystical in the moonlight. An old, thatched cottage covered in snow like a frosting of thick icing sugar.

Lula couldn’t wait to get inside, switch on the lights and draw up a fire. ‘Are you coming in? I could make hot chocolate.’

He thought about it for a minute. He didn’t want to impose—she’d barely been in the village five minutes and he felt he’d occupied more than enough of her time already. He was about to turn her down, but there was something about her that he couldn’t resist.

‘Sounds great—thanks.’

Lula was definitely not the type of woman he would normally go for. All his previous romantic interludes had been with fellow medics who were rather strait-laced and ‘normal’. Nothing like Lula. His longest relationship had been with Rachel, and that had been years ago and an utter disaster.

Lula was so far out of ‘normal’ she was practically an alien from outer space! But he was fascinated by her. By her diminutive size, which made him want to put his arms around her and protect her, and the way the colours in her hair blended so beautifully it was like looking at a mystical rainbow. And those large brown eyes…like pools of chocolate he could dive into…

Calm yourself, Olly! Remember she’s not your type!

Inside, he helped her light a fire and soon its crackling warmth filled the small room. They sat
before it, enveloping their mugs of hot chocolate with their hands and staring at the leaping flames.

‘Eventful day…’ he said.

Lula nodded. ‘Are all English villages this exciting, do you think?’

‘No, I don’t think so. It’s just got this way since you’ve arrived. You know, I don’t think I’ve had so many patients visit the surgery, just to see you. You’ve really brightened up their lives since they did that belly-dancing class of yours, and they can’t wait for the next one.’

‘I’m glad.’ She smiled.

‘You’re a breath of fresh air.’ He coloured as soon as he’d said it and sipped from his hot chocolate to cover his embarrassment.

Lula glanced at him, nodding at the compliment but wondering if it was the kind of fresh air that
Olly
needed? He needed
something
, the way he was, stuck in his ways.

‘Thank you. I try to be.’

He glanced over at her. ‘Why do you do it?’

She was confused by his question. ‘Do what?’

‘Belly dancing? I mean, you’re good at it—don’t get me wrong—but what made you choose to do it?’

‘It was fun, it was different. I thought it suited me.’

Yes, she was definitely different—he had to give her that. For the first time that day he noticed
that her delicate fingernails were all painted different colours. Red, pink, pale blue, peppermint-green and lilac. There was even a tiny tattoo on her ring finger of a bat.

A bat!

He smiled to himself and shook his head. She was unbelievable. Normally he would have said that he didn’t like to see tattoos on women. He was quite traditional in that sense, and had always associated tattoos with men, but on Lula they were different. She managed to make them look amazing—tiny pieces of artwork, splashes of colour in intriguing places, making him want to know if there were any other tattoos on her body that he couldn’t currently see.

Not that he would ask her, he thought, his face flushing again at the thought of slowly peeling away her clothes to reveal a veritable teasing trail of tattoos.

He stood up abruptly, clearing his throat. ‘I ought to go. Leave you to your rats and spider.’

‘Are you on call?’

‘No, Dad’s covering tonight.’

‘I like your father. He seems a good man.’ She looked up at him, her face glowing in the reflection from the warm fire.

Olly nodded. ‘He is.’ This was better. His father was a safer topic.

‘What happened? With your mum? You don’t mention her.’

What could he say? That he had no memories of her—only the stories that his father told about the amazing woman that Olly struggled to recall? How it hurt to admit that he didn’t remember how it had felt to cuddle her, what she’d sounded like, what she’d smelt like?

He sank back down onto the edge of the sofa. ‘She died when I was two.’

‘I’m so sorry. I know what it’s like not to have a mother. Your real mother, anyway.’

She looked it, too. Truly sorry.

‘That’s okay. It was a tragic accident. No one could have done anything about it.’

‘Do you remember her
at all
?’

He shook his head. ‘No. But my father tells me about her, and we’ve got lots of photos and some family videos. There’s one of me and her lying on a picnic blanket, facing each other. She’s laughing and smiling and beaming at me with such joy and pride on her face…’ The memory of the picture, describing it to Lula, hurt. Olly cleared his throat. ‘Dad loved her very much.’

‘I’m glad. Though not that you lost her. In a way, I guess it means you had something missing from your childhood, too?’