The Village Nurse's Happy-Ever-After (6 page)

P
HOEBE
was used to the noise and bustle of the town. It was like any other Saturday morning. She was wandering around the excellent outdoor market with Marcus in his baby buggy, gazing around him with interest, when she heard her name called. Turning, she saw Jake and Rory loaded down with shopping.

‘I thought you were going sailing,' she said with a smile for her young patient.

‘We are,' Jake told her. ‘We've just come to get provisions for the weekend and are wondering who else we're going to see from the surgery.'

‘Why?'

‘We've just seen the doctor that you called out to look at Rory's leg.' She observed him in surprise. ‘You know, the new guy.'

‘You mean Dr Balfour. Where was he?' she enquired, not sure if she wanted to see Harry again so soon after their conversation the previous day.

‘He was coming out of Hunter's Hill Hospital as we drove past.'

‘Ah, I see.'

She didn't really, but had no wish to discuss the
comings and goings of her neighbour with Jake and Rory. Yet she was curious to know why Harry had been visiting the hospital.

But she'd come to do some food shopping and as they went on their way she gave her attention to free-range eggs, farm-cured bacon and fresh vegetables, with Marcus looking on.

That was followed by a saunter around a department store and on impulse she bought a pretty sweater and some well-cut jeans, then took Marcus for lunch in the bistro there.

It was as she was making her way back to the car park, pushing the buggy with one hand and carrying what wouldn't fit underneath it with the other, when a voice called from behind, ‘Hang on a moment, Phoebe. Let me give you a lift.' And the man who never seemed to be out of her thoughts was by her side in an instant.

‘Are y-you all r-right?' she stammered, overcome by nerves at his sudden proximity.

‘Yes, of course. Why do you ask?' he wanted to know.

‘I met up with Jake and Rory and they'd seen you coming out of Hunter's Hill.'

‘Are you referring to the lad with the injured leg and that uncle of his?' he questioned.

‘Er, yes.'

‘So are you always on such friendly terms with your patients?'

‘Not always. It's just that they wanted me to go sailing with them this weekend, but needless to say I refused. I
wouldn't take Marcus on that sort of a jaunt in this kind of weather.'

‘I'm glad to hear it,' he commented dryly, ‘and as to why I was at Hunter's Hill, I'd come into town to shop and thought I'd pop in to see how Pamela Enderby is progressing. Apart from the fact that you and I saved her life, she and I were at school together. I
have
got a past in these parts, you know.'

‘Yes, I do, which is more than I have. My past is all wrapped up in the thirst for success and a lack of interest in the things of life that really matter.'

He was observing her thoughtfully. ‘And are you going to tell me about how it all went wrong some time?'

‘No,' she said flatly. ‘It isn't worth telling. So, can we get back to Pamela?'

He nodded. ‘According to the registrar I spoke to, she should be home soon. The operation was a success. So it will be up to the neurosurgeon to decide what the hospital does as a follow-up to the nightmare that we walked into that day.

‘It was strange, how we barely knew each other, yet in those desperate moments when we worked on her it was as if we were welded into one.'

She nodded. What Harry had just said described exactly how she'd felt.

There'd been an unexpected affinity and it was still there, a closeness that she was uncomfortable about. Although he seemed to be continually at her elbow, she had a feeling that he too had his doubts about it. Another odd thing was that out of all the surgery staff, apart from
Leo, who hadn't been there long, she was the only one Harry hadn't known previously.

At the time he'd left to go to Australia she'd been living in London with Darren as a new bride with not a cloud in her sky. No doubt Harry had been feeling the same, having met the woman of his dreams, but they'd both been brought down to earth since then. And now, as he strode alongside her, carrying the shopping, it felt just as right as it had when they'd resuscitated Pamela Enderby.

As the car park came into sight she put her daydreams to one side and came back to realities by commenting, ‘I can't see your car and it isn't one that's easily missed.'

Beside his bright red convertible, her own small runabout felt totally insignificant, but it sufficed for what she wanted it for and that was all that mattered.

‘It isn't there,' Harry explained. ‘I walked here.' She observed him in surprise. ‘Yes, it was a long walk, but I wanted to see some of the places again that once were so familiar. Also, I needed the exercise but now that I've had it, I wouldn't say no to a lift back to the village!'

‘Yes, of course,' she agreed. ‘Once Marcus is strapped in safely and I've put my shopping in the boot, we'll be off.'

‘I'll see to him while you stash the shopping,' he said, and she thought that the offer was a definite improvement on the other night, when he'd held him stiffly in his arms and she'd told him laughingly that Marcus wouldn't bite.

She wasn't to know that Harry wanted to see if the feel of that small warm body against his was as
satisfying and wholesome as it had been that first time. As he lifted him out of the buggy Marcus had a smile for him and Harry said, ‘He's a happy little guy, isn't he, all considering?'

Phoebe was putting the shopping into the boot of the car and she raised her head sharply. ‘Considering? Considering what? That he hasn't got a father?'

‘Well, yes.'

‘Quality is better than quantity any time. He won't ever feel lonely and lost while I'm around.' And she closed the boot with a resounding slam as if to emphasise the fierce statement..

‘That I can well believe,' he said with a smile that took the edge off her irritation. He bent to fasten the harness of the car seat around the baby and then slid into the passenger seat beside her and they were off.

They were silent for most of the journey, but it was clear Phoebe hadn't forgotten what he'd said. As the village came into view, she continued their earlier conversation. ‘I suppose your comments earlier were also raising the question of how happy Marcus would be if anything happened to me, and if he was left all alone in the world. That might be a fair comment but, Harry, everything we do in life is a risk. To me, a bigger risk would have been to let Marcus be saddled with a father who didn't want him. I think you might have been down a similar road to that so will understand what I mean.'

When she looked across at him his expression was sombre but he didn't say anything. She wondered if his hurt went too deep to talk about it to someone he'd only just met.

 

They were back at the surgery and as Harry was lifting Marcus out of the car, he suddenly said, ‘Thanks for the lift, Phoebe. In return, I'll cook dinner tonight if you like.'

Oh, yes, she would ‘like' was her immediate reaction to the suggestion, but like many travellers on the sea of life they both had baggage. On her part a hurtful divorce that had not been about infidelity but about rejection and selfishness, and on his a recent bereavement that so far he hadn't spoken of.

So was she going to accept the offer because attached to it was going to be some prime time with him? No, she wasn't. It would be crazy to step any further into each other's lives than they had done already.

She let him down gently. ‘No, thanks just the same. I've got our meal already organised for tonight,' and with a final turn of the screw, ‘I'll see you on Monday, Harry.' Ashamed that she hadn't had the nerve to tell him the truth—that the more she saw of him, the more time she wanted them to spend together—she took Marcus from him and slowly climbed the stairs to what was left of another lonely weekend.

He was pushing his luck with Phoebe, Harry thought as he followed her some seconds later. Why couldn't he have been satisfied with meeting her in the town and being near her in the car during the lift home? Oh, no, he'd wanted more, and ought to know better.

When he'd left Australia, he'd just been beginning to get over the horror of the accident that had cost Cassie her life. He'd set off for home deciding that those who stay alone were less likely to get hurt, so what was he
doing now? Hanging around the first woman he'd come into close contact with like a teenage Romeo, that was what.

If he didn't back off, Phoebe was going to start feeling trapped up there with him continually butting into her life, and there was really only one answer to that. He had to do what he'd intended on coming back to Bluebell Cove—find a permanent place to live.

He had expected his house hunting to be a leisurely thing, with the apartment a base from which to view in his own good time. properties that were on offer. But then again, he hadn't expected to be living in such closeness to a single mother whose solitariness was pulling at his heart strings.

So why not start house hunting today? he thought bleakly. There wasn't anything to stop him. He was sure that Phoebe wouldn't be sorry to see him go.

 

The village's estate agent was open but doing little business because of the time of year, so the young guy behind the counter had all the time in the world to tell him about an impressive list of properties for sale. That would be much reduced in quantity and greatly increased in price during the summer months.

There was an attractively converted barn, a large period cottage down a wooded lane not far from the village centre, a luxurious apartment in a new complex on the coast road, and even a small manor house that he could probably afford if he pulled out all the stops, but he couldn't see himself rattling around a place like that on his own.

As the estate agent expounded upon their delights and advantages, he found he couldn't work up enthusiasm for any of them because he was seeing a flight of worn uncarpeted stairs, a landing with two old oak doors on it, and behind one of them was…what?

A mother and child that he couldn't stop thinking about, and they were making his longing for solitude go to pot. That was why the brochures of the properties displayed in front of him were not gripping his imagination.

Yet maybe if he viewed a couple of them he might become interested, and if he wasn't there would still be plenty of others to consider. So he made a lukewarm appointment to view the manor house and the converted barn on Sunday morning.

 

‘Guess what I saw when I was out walking my dog yesterday,' Lucy, the senior practice nurse, said first thing on Monday morning, when all the staff—with the exception of Harry—were warming up in the kitchen as usual.

Phoebe had just arrived after depositing Marcus at the nursery and joined in the laughter when Leo suggested jokingly, ‘Naturists on the beach?'

‘No,' she replied in hushed tones. ‘I saw Howard from the estate agent's showing our leader around one of the nicest houses in the area, Glades Manor!'

‘Wow!' Leo said, and Phoebe thought miserably wow indeed. So much for their short, thought-provoking acquaintance in the apartments above. She would still see Harry in the surgery, but if he moved out there would
no longer be the comforting feeling of having him near when their day's work was done.

Yet she thought she understood his reasoning. Despite his initial awkwardness, he'd been great with her and Marcus. Most likely because he'd found himself in such close proximity and had felt that being neighbourly was the least he could do, but Harry had his own life to lead, as she did. It stood to sense that he wasn't going to want to be living in an average apartment for long if he had the means to purchase something as prestigious as Glades Manor, which stood in several acres among the green meadows of the Devonshire countryside.

Leaving the staff still chatting about the comings and goings of Ethan Lomax's successor, she went into Reception where the list of calls she had to make would be waiting for her. There she found the man on her mind leaning on the counter and chatting to Millie.

Harry was observing her keenly as she approached and deciding that Phoebe wasn't well or something had upset her. Unaware of what was being talked about in the kitchen at the end of the passage, he hoped it wasn't anything to do with him.

‘Are you okay?' he asked in a low voice as the phone rang at that moment and Millie was occupied.

‘Yes, I'm fine,' she lied. ‘I'm just about to sort out my day and then I'm off. Rory doesn't need me any more, but George Enderby's leg needs watching and my patient with the insulin injections is still not feeling too confident about giving them to himself.

‘Then there is old Jeremy Davenport, who has developed a bed sore after being confined to bed for so long
in hospital with a difficult leg fracture. He's home now but still incapacitated and the bed sore hasn't completely gone, so it's been passed to me.'

He was nodding gravely. ‘That sounds enough to keep you occupied but, Phoebe, if you get the chance, take note of snowdrops in cottage gardens. The daffodils and crocus won't be long either. They are some of the things I missed while down under, as well as women with pale unblemished skin that the sun hasn't tanned. It was the first thing I noticed about you.'

Was he paying her a compliment or hinting that she looked wishy-washy? she wondered, and in the next moment thought she had the answer as he went on to say dryly, ‘Just as long as you're not anaemic.'

She was picking up her bag and about to head for the door. ‘I'm not. My mother's skin was the same.'

‘And where is
she
now?'

‘She died shortly after I was married. We lost my father when I was small. Luckily my sister and her husband filled the gap when my marriage broke up. Katie and Rob were there for me every step of the way, and it made all the difference. Rejection slowly turned into revival.' As the rest of the staff came filing in from the kitchen, Phoebe wished she hadn't opened up to him about her past so much, and said briskly, ‘I'm off, Dr Balfour, and I won't forget about the snowdrops.'