Kitabı oku: «His Christmas Bride-To-Be», sayfa 2

Now just one thing remained regarding his promise to her father, and when that was done maybe he would be able to have a life of his own once again. The task of locating Emma Chalmers had been mammoth.

He would be there for her at her father’s funeral and once that ordeal was over he was going to step aside and let her get on with her life. The same way he intended to carry on with his own, which was empty of womankind and was going to stay that way.

Drawing the curtains across to shut out the night, he went slowly up the spiral staircase that graced the hallway of his home and lay on top of the bedcovers, his last concern before sleep claimed him being the stranger that he had reluctantly taken under his wing.

What was her story? he wondered. Had she been close to Jeremy and they’d rowed about something that had made her go off in a huff? From what he’d said in his dying moments, it had seemed that Jeremy had been the reason for Emma’s departure and whatever it had been he’d had cause to regret it.

Since coming back to her roots she had never mentioned him, which was not a good omen, and what about the mother that she’d lost not so long before her hasty departure? What sort of a marriage had she and Jeremy had?

CHAPTER TWO

THERE WERE A few offers to see Emma home safely when the Barrington Bar closed at the stroke of midnight heralding the Sabbath, but Lydia forestalled them by saying, ‘I’m in my car, Emma, and haven’t been on the wine. Would you like a lift as I have to pass your place?’ And added to the rest, ‘That leaves two more empty places if anyone wants to join us.’

The offer was immediately taken up by older members of staff, one of the practice nurses and a receptionist, both of whom lived just a short distance away, and when they were eventually alone in the car Lydia said, ‘So how has your first full day back in Glenminster felt?’

‘Very strange,’ Emma told her, ‘and unexpectedly pleasant. But that feeling isn’t going to last long when I start making the funeral arrangements for Jeremy. He wasn’t my father. Did you know that, Lydia?’

‘No, I didn’t!’ she gasped ‘How long have you been aware of it?’

‘Just as long as it took him to let me see how little I meant to him—which was immediately after he’d said he wanted me gone, out of the way.’

The house was in sight and when Lydia stopped the car she said dejectedly, ‘And all of that was because he wanted to marry me? Surely he didn’t think I would allow him to hurt you so that he could have me. None of it brought him any joy, did it? Without even knowing about what he had said regarding him not being your father, I refused to go ahead with the wedding when he told me that he’d made it clear that you wouldn’t be welcome around the place once we were married. Sadly, by that time Emma, you’d gone and not a single person knew where you were.

‘Jeremy was with Glenn when he had the heart attack and made him promise to find you and bring you back to Glenminster to make up for all the hurt he’d caused you. So he did have a conscience of sorts, I suppose. Glenn, being the kind of guy who keeps his word, spent hours searching for you in every possible way until he finally located you. No doubt once the funeral is over he will be ready to get back to his own life, hoping that yours is sorted.’

Shaken to the core by what she’d been told about the man she’d been going to marry, Lydia was about to drive off into the night when Emma asked, ‘Was it Dr Bartlett who saw to it that there was heating and food in the house?’

‘Yes,’ she was told. ‘Glenn mentioned that he was going to deal with those things and you almost arrived before he’d done so by appearing a day early. Now, one last thing before I go—have you enjoyed tonight, Emma?’

‘It was wonderful,’ she said, ‘and would have been even more so if I could have thanked Dr Bartlett for all he has done for me, but as I didn’t know about it I shall make up for my lack of appreciation in the morning.’

Glenn was having a late breakfast when he saw Emma appear on Sunday morning, and as he watched her walk purposefully along the drive he sighed. What now? he wondered. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer as once he had invited her inside she told him, ‘I’m here to say thank you for all that you’ve done for me, Dr Bartlett. I had no idea until Lydia explained on the way home last night that my father had put upon you the burden of finding me, and that it was you who had made my homecoming as comfortable as possible with food and warmth. It must have all been very time-consuming.’

He was smiling, partly with relief because she wanted no more from him and because she was so easily pleased with what he’d done for her. At the beginning Emma Chalmers had just been a lost soul that Jeremy had asked him to find so that he could die in the hope that he, Glenn, would bring her back to where she belonged. Difficult as the process had sometimes been, he’d had no regrets in having to keep the promise he’d made.

Pointing to a comfortable chair by the fireside, he said, ‘It was in a good cause, Emma, and having now met you I realise just how worthy it was. Whatever it was that Jeremy had done to you it was clear that he regretted it. I could tell that it lay heavily on his conscience, and as my last involvement in your affairs, if you need any assistance with the funeral arrangements, you have only to ask.’

She was smiling but there were tears on her lashes as she said, ‘I will try not to involve you if I can, but thanks for the offer.’

As she rose from the chair, ready to depart, he said, ‘My parents will be at the funeral. They are a crazy pair but their hearts are in the right place and I love them dearly. It was my dad who told Jeremy that I was a doctor and had come to live in the village after leaving a practice up north. So that was how I came to be with him on the day he died.

‘Jeremy had been to see me and, having been told that I’d been doing a similar job to his in the place that I’d left, asked if I would be interested in replacing him at the practice in Glenminster as he was ready to retire. Once I’d seen it and been introduced to staff I was keen to take over, and that is how I come to be here.’

‘Going through the usual formalities with the health services and the rest took a while but I had no regrets, and now we have his daughter back with us, so hopefully he will rest in peace. You don’t resemble him at all, do you?’ he commented.

He saw her flinch but her only comment gave nothing away.

‘No,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I’m more like my mother.’ Having no wish to start going down those sort of channels in the conversation, she said, ‘Thanks again, Dr Bartlett, for all that you’ve done for both me and him.’ On the point of leaving, she commented, ‘Your home is lovely.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose it is, and with the hills above and the delightful town below them, I am happy to be settled here.’

‘So do you live alone, then?’ she couldn’t resist asking.

There was a glint in the deep blue eyes observing her and Emma wished she hadn’t asked as his reply was short and purposeful, and to make it even more so he had opened the door and was waiting for her to depart as he delivered it. ‘Yes. I prefer the solitary life. It is so much easier to deal with.’

She smiled a twisted smile and told him, ‘I’ve had a lot of that sort of thing where I’ve been based over the last few years and to me it was not easy to cope with at all. Solitariness is something that takes all the colour out of life, so I’m afraid I can’t agree with you on that.’ And stepping out into the crisp Sunday morning, she walked briskly towards the town centre and the house on the edge of it that the man who hadn’t been her father had left to her for reasons she didn’t know.

There had been no generosity in Jeremy on that awful night and ever since she had needed a name that wasn’t his: the name of the man who had made her mother pregnant. Did he even know that he had a daughter?

Common sense was butting in, taking over her thought processes. So what? You had a fantastic mother who loved and cherished you. Let that be balm to your soul, and as for that guy back there, doesn’t every doctor long for peace after spending long hours of each day caring for the health of others? If you’ve never had the same yearning, you are unique.

Back at the property that Emma had admired, Glenn was facing up to the fact that his description of his home life must have sounded extremely boring. With a glance at the photograph on his bedside table he wondered what Jeremy’s daughter would think of him if she knew why he needed to be alone.

Serena was gone, along with many others, taken from him by one of nature’s cruel tricks, a huge tsunami, unexpected, unbelievable. Since then he had lived for two things only, caring for his parents and his job, and there were times when the job was the least exhausting of the two.

They’d been holidaying in one of the world’s delightful faraway places when it had struck. The only reason he had survived was because he’d taken a book with him to one of the resort’s golden beaches and had been engrossed in its contents, while Serena had been doing her favourite thing, swimming to a rock that was quite a way out and sunbathing there.

When the huge wall of water had come thundering towards them, sweeping everything out of the way with its force, they’d both been caught up in it. Glenn had been closer to land and had surfaced and managed to hold onto driftwood before staggering towards what had been left of the hotel where they’d been staying. But of Serena, his wife, sunbathing on the rock far out, she and others like her had disappeared and had never been found.

Weeks later, with all hope gone, Glenn had arrived back but had been unable to bear to stay where they’d lived together so happily. So he had moved to a new job and a new house in the town where his parents lived, telling the older folk that he didn’t want his affairs discussed amongst the residents of Glenminster, or anywhere else for that matter.

The only way he had coped after leaving the practice up north to join the one in the town centre had been by giving his total commitment to his patients, and when away from the practice shutting himself into the converted barn that he’d bought and in the silence grieving for what he had lost.

That day on the golf course had been a one-off. Jeremy had persuaded Glenn to join him there for a round or two much against his inclination because it would be interrupting the quiet time that he allowed himself whenever possible.

When the other man had collapsed with a massive heart attack in the middle of the game and hadn’t responded to Glenn’s frantic efforts as they’d waited for an ambulance, Jeremy had begged him with his dying breath to find his daughter and bring her home to Glenminster. Though aghast at the request, as it had seemed that no one had known where she was, he had carried out Jeremy’s wishes faithfully. Once the funeral was over Glenn was fully intent on returning to his reclusive evenings and weekends.

The fact that Emma, having only been back in her home town three days, had visited him on the third one had not been what he had expected. Neither was it what he was going to want once he began to live his own life again.

He’d seen to it that she was back home where she belonged and on a grey winter’s day had made sure she would be warm and fed when she arrived. He had even gone so far as to make sure that she received a warm welcome home from the practice staff at the Barrington Bar, of all places, which had not been the kind of thing on his personal agenda. Once his duty had been done he had been off home to the peace that his bruised heart cried out for.

Only to find that Emma had good manners. On the quiet Sunday morning she hadn’t picked up the phone to thank him for all that he’d done on her behalf, which until her chat with Lydia she’d had no knowledge of, but had come in person. So why was he feeling so edgy about it?

Was she going to want to come back into the practice? They needed another doctor. But was the daughter of chancer and man about town Jeremy Chalmers someone he would want around the place?

He spent the rest of the day clearing up fallen leaves in the garden and at last, satisfied that all was tidy, went inside when daylight began to fade and began to make himself a meal.

As he was on the point of putting a piece of steak under the grill the phone rang and when Glenn heard Emma’s voice at the other end of the line he sighed. She didn’t hear it, but his tone of voice when he replied was enough for her to know it would have been better to have waited until the following morning to report the conversation she’d just had with a funeral director.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you again, Dr Bartlett,’ she said. ‘It is just that I’ve been speaking to the funeral firm, who have been waiting for me to appear with regard to a date for the funeral that has been unfortunately delayed because of my absence, and they pointed out that as my—er—father was so well known in the practice and around the town, maybe a Sunday would be the most suitable day. Then all the staff would be free and more of the townspeople would be able to attend, it not being a regular working day for most people.’

‘Yes, good thinking,’ he agreed, relieved that the final chapter of the sad episode on the golf course was to be soon for her sake as well as his. ‘Why not call in at the practice tomorrow so that I can help you with the rest of the arrangements?’

There was silence at the other end of the line for a moment and then Emma said haltingly, ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me butting into your time there? I’m afraid that I’ve been in your face a lot since I returned.’

Glenn thought that she’d picked up on his moroseness and his desire to be free of his commitment to a man he’d hardly known, so he told her, ‘No, not so. Once the funeral is organised and has taken place we can both get on with our lives.’ But as the steak began to sizzle and the vegetables he intended having with it came to the boil Emma had one last thing to say and he almost groaned out loud.

‘Just one thing and then I really will leave you to enjoy your Sunday evening. It is with regard to the food that you provided me with. How much am I in your debt?’

‘You’re not. You owe me nothing,’ he said abruptly. ‘It was part of the promise that I made to a dying man.’

Her response came fast. ‘So let me make you a meal after the practice has closed tomorrow evening. It would save me butting into your lunch hour to discuss the arrangements for next Sunday.’

His reply was given at a similar speed. ‘No! I’ve told you, Emma. You owe me nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow at midday.’ And as she rang off without further comment it was clear to her that he was more than eager for the role he had played during recent weeks to be at an end.

Glenn had been looking forward to the meal he’d cooked, but every time he thought about how uncivil he’d been when she’d wanted to thank him for what he’d done for her the food felt as if it would choke him.

Emma would have understood if you’d explained that you still mourn the loss of your wife under horrendous circumstances, he told himself, and that after a week at the surgery you want to be left in peace.

Pushing the plate away from him, he poured a glass of wine and went to sit in front of the log fire that was burning brightly in the sitting room. Gazing morosely at the dancing flames, Glenn admitted to himself that it was most unfair to transfer the pain of his shattered life to a stranger such as her.

He was behaving like a complete moron. Why in heaven’s name didn’t he explain the reason for his behaviour and try to get it in perspective? Otherwise people would start asking questions that he didn’t want to answer.

For one thing, Emma wouldn’t want to feel that his attitude was another dark chapter of her life to add to the fact that she had to attend the funeral of a man who had confessed to causing her great hurt.

With determination to atone for the rebuff he’d handed out when she’d wanted to make him a meal, Glenn decided that he would call at her house on his way home the following evening if she didn’t appear in the lunch hour, and do all he could to show Emma that he felt no ill will towards her. That his behaviour came from pain that never went away, so he needed to focus on work.

As his first appointment of the day arrived on the following morning he settled down to what he did best: looking after his patients.

The staff of the practice consisted of Lydia, the practice manager, six GPs with himself as senior, two trainee GPs, who were there to earn their accreditation after qualifying as doctors, and four incredible receptionists who held it all together.

Once the man who had been his predecessor had been laid to rest, the gloom that had hung over the practice might lighten. As a new era began, was Jeremy’s prodigal daughter going to want to join the practice, or had he put her off completely? he wondered.

Back at the house the night before Emma had been deep in thought as she’d cleared away after a solitary meal, and they had not been happy thoughts. Did she want to be in the first funeral car on her own? There was no one who should rightly be with her. Her mother had left no relations, neither had Jeremy—and she had no knowledge of who her birth father might be.

Maybe Lydia would join her. If she did it would help to take away some of the dreadful lost and lonely feeling that she’d had ever since she’d been told with brutal clarity that the man she had always thought to be her father, in fact, was not.

The other concern on her mind was the fact that she was having a bad start in getting to know the man who had replaced Jeremy in the practice. She was experiencing a kind and thoughtful side to his character that was contradicted by his brusque attitude on occasion.

It was clear that Glenn was not a good mixer. It would be interesting to find out what sort of a man he was if she joined the practice staff. She did want to feel happy and fulfilled back in Glenminster, if that was possible.

She didn’t want to return to the heat and endless toil of Africa until she had recharged her batteries in the place where she had grown up and where she’d had a job she’d loved until the bubble of her contentment had burst.

With those thoughts in mind she presented herself at the practice in the lunch hour. When Glenn’s last morning patient had gone, and before the afternoon’s sick and suffering began to arrive, he left his consulting room and went to see if Emma had come, as he’d asked her to. He was relieved to find her outside in the corridor deep in conversation with Lydia.

On seeing him the older woman suggested that Emma come down to her office for a coffee before she went, and left them together. So Glenn opened the door that he’d just come through and when Emma was seated on the opposite side of his desk at his invitation he asked, ‘So how are you this morning?’ He followed it with another question. ‘Are you any nearer to knowing how you want the funeral to be arranged?’

Emma was looking around her. The last time she’d been in the room Jeremy had been seated where Glenn was now. The memory of her last day in Glenminster came back so clearly it was making her feel weak and disoriented, although Jeremy hadn’t delivered the actual body blow until late that evening, when he’d been drinking and had been about to climb the stairs to sleep it off.

Glenn watched the colour drain from her face and came round the desk to stand beside her, concerned. But Emma was rallying, taking control of the black moment from the past. Managing a wan smile as he gazed down at her anxiously, she said, ‘I’m all right, it was just a memory of the last time I was in this room and what happened afterwards that knocked me sideways.’

Straightening up in the chair, she said, ‘In answer to your question, I’m fine. I’ve just asked Lydia if she will join me in the one and only funeral car that will be needed instead of my being alone. I have no relatives that I could ask to keep me company on such a depressing occasion. Obviously there will be other people following in their cars, but that is how it will be for me.’

‘And what did she say?’ he asked uncomfortably, knowing that he should have given some thought to Emma’s solitariness on the day instead of being so wrapped up in his own feelings.

‘She said yes, that she will be with me.’

‘Good. I hadn’t realised just how alone you are, Emma,’ he commented. ‘If Lydia hadn’t been able to do as you asked I would have volunteered. Though whether you would have wanted someone you hardly know with you on such an occasion seems unlikely.’

He glanced at a clock on the wall and commented, ‘I can only give you half an hour before my afternoon patients start arriving so what exactly do you want to discuss?’

‘I’m going to have an announcement in the local press, announcing that the funeral will be on Sunday at the crematorium at three o’clock, for the benefit of anyone wanting to take part in the service or just to watch,’ she told him, ‘and I’m arranging a meal for afterwards for the practice staff and any of his close friends.’

‘That sounds fine,’ he agreed. ‘What about flowers?’

‘No. Instead, I’d like donations to be made to the Heart Foundation, or locally to Horizon’s Eye Hospital, which is an amazing place. Do you think those kind of arrangements will be suitable?’ she enquired. She was ready to go and leave him to his busy afternoon, aware all the while that the time she had taken out of his lunch hour might leave no opportunity for him to have a snack or whatever he did for refreshment at that time of day.

But remembering Glenn Bartlett’s rebuffs of the previous evening, there was no way she was going to concern herself about that. He was the one who’d suggested a chat in the lunch hour, and in the days when she’d been employed there she’d often missed her lunch due to pressure of work.

‘Yes,’ he told her, unaware of the thoughts going through her mind. ‘Just one question. Am I right in presuming that it will all start from what is now your house?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, the cold hand of dread clamping on her heart. Until the man she’d thought had been her father had been laid to rest she couldn’t even contemplate what she was going to do in the future if Glenn didn’t want her back at the surgery.

It was possible, taking note of his manner towards her, that he could be feeling that enough was enough. That having found her and brought her back to where Jeremy Chalmers had wanted her to be … and the rest of it, he’d had enough without her being forever in his sights.

Maybe after Sunday, in the relief that the slate had been wiped clean, she would be able to see everything more clearly. As far as she was concerned, it couldn’t come quickly enough. So, getting up to go down to Lydia’s office in the basement for the coffee that she’d suggested, Emma wished Glenn goodbye and left him deep in thought.

In the days that followed Emma felt as if she were in some sort of limbo. She wandered around the shops for suitable clothes to fill her wardrobe against winter’s chill, while trying to ignore signs of the coming of Christmas already on view in some of them.

It was the last thing she wanted to contemplate, spending Christmas in the house that had been left to her in its present state. It had always been basic and she’d often wondered why her mother had never complained, but now she understood. Maybe Jeremy had expected gratitude instead of requests for a brighter home from the woman he had married to save her name.

She supposed she could give the place a makeover or alternatively put it up for sale and move to somewhere smaller and more modern and not so near the bustle of the town, but until Sunday’s ordeal was over she couldn’t contemplate the future.

It was done. The event that Emma had been dreading had taken place and, with Lydia beside her and Glenn Bartlett hovering nearby, she had coped. There had been a good turnout, as she’d expected, and now the staff of the practice and a few of Jeremy’s golfing friends were gathered in a restaurant in the town centre for the meal she’d organised.

Emma was feeling that now the future was going to open out in front of her, though not as an exciting challenge. More as if it was hidden in a mist of uncertainty. As she caught the glance of the man who had brought her home from a foreign country to an uncertain future, she felt her colour rise at the thought of asking for a return to her previous position in the practice. He was so obviously wanting an end to their unwanted connection.

Did he ever smile? she wondered. If his expression was less closed and sombre he would be the most attractive man she’d ever met. His hair was dark russet, his eyes as blue as a summer sky—but always with no joy in them.

It seemed that he was unmarried, not in a relationship of any kind, and lived alone in his delightful property, with the occasional visit from his elderly parents.

Her smile was wry. It seemed as if neither of them was fulfilling their full potential. His life sounded almost hermit-like. Or was it that he had enough to think about with the job and being there for his folks? Although they sounded anything but fragile.

She was being observed in return. What was it that Jeremy Chalmers had done to cause his daughter the degree of hurt that he’d confessed to when he’d lain dying? Glenn asked himself. It had been enough to make her leave Glenminster and only be prepared to return in the event of his death.

Emma didn’t come over as the weak and whingeing type. Whatever it was, she didn’t carry her sorrows around with her, as he did. Maybe they weren’t as dreadful as the burden he was carrying, having Serena there one moment and the next gone for ever. If they’d had a child to remember her by he might be coping better.

The funeral party were getting ready to leave. He got to his feet and joined them and as Emma shook hands and thanked them for their time and their support, he waited until they’d gone and asked, ‘Do you want a lift home, Emma?’

She smiled. ‘No, I’m fine. Lydia is going to take me, but thanks for the offer. And also thanks once again for the way you have been there for me, a stranger, at this awful time.’ Her smile deepened. ‘I promise I will not cause any more hassle in your life.’

Before he could explain that his moroseness came from coping with terrible grief every moment of every day, she had gone to where the practice manager was waiting for her, leaving him to return to the empty house that he had turned into his stronghold against life without Serena. For the first time since he had gone to live there Glenn was reluctant to turn the key in the lock and go inside, and when he did so, instead of its comforting peace, a heavy silence hung over every room.