The Village Nurse's Happy-Ever-After (5 page)

‘What sort is it?' she asked warily. ‘Has it got a cabin?'

‘Yes, of course,' was the reply. ‘It's not the
Queen Mary
but she's a nice little craft.'

‘I'll think about it,' she told him to avoid refusing outright. Sailing on the open sea in the middle of winter with Marcus was not something she was going to contemplate. Maybe if the invitation was still there in the spring, but not now. Although, if she was honest, she couldn't see herself ever considering going sailing with
Jake—she just wasn't that interested in spending more time with him, however nice he was.

As the day took its course, the man on her mind was not the amiable Jake. It was the cool reception she'd received earlier from a more mature member of the opposite sex that kept intruding into her thoughts.

Had he thought when she'd wished him a friendly good morning up on the landing that his concern on the night before had encouraged her to be over-familiar? She shuddered at the thought. From now on she would be so distant he might want his heater back to cope with the drop in temperature.

 

Harry had watched her from the window of his consulting room as she'd driven off, clearly offended, and told himself he was crazy. He was the one who'd crossed the divide between stranger and acquaintance. It hadn't been Phoebe who'd made the gestures that he was now halfway to regretting, but neither did he have to upset her by trying to re-establish a sense of distance between them.

Then he reminded himself that he wouldn't have been able to sleep easily with a crying baby so close, and it had been the same with the heater. It was essential that in January's chill mother and child should be warm. Perhaps he should simply embrace being neighbourly?

Sighing, he called in his first patient and let the day ahead take hold of him. Maybe when they were both in their apartments tonight, he would get the chance to make amends. Until then the surgery was full of the
coughs and sneezes that spread diseases, along with a few patients with more serious illnesses to keep him on his toes.

One of them was in charge of the information centre on the coast road just above the beach. She'd recently had shingles, which hadn't all come to the surface as they should have. Now the stabbing pains of the illness had flared up again quite seriously and she was in a lot of discomfort.

‘Shingles, or herpes zoster, is an odd illness,' he told her. ‘For some people it's straightforward. The red rash appears, usually on the upper half of the body, then turns to blisters, and because it is connected with the nerve ends it can be very painful, but once the blisters have gone it usually settles down.

‘Though not always. For some the pain is there in the background for a long time, especially as in your case, where the rash didn't all come out. Sometimes other medication that the patient is taking can bring back the pain in those areas. I see that you've recently been prescribed a steroid-based inhaler for asthma. It is possible that the steroids could be the reason for the return of the pain.

‘So we will try taking you off that kind of inhaler and put you on one that doesn't contain them. It won't be as effective with regard to the asthma, I'm afraid, so I'll need to keep a close eye on you, but let's see if no longer being involved with steroids reduces the pain.'

When he'd made out the prescription and she was ready to go, the patient asked, ‘How are you enjoying being back in Bluebell Cove, Dr Balfour?'

‘It's good,' he told her, realising it was the truth. ‘It feels strange, of course. I've been gone five years, but there's a sort of agelessness about this place that calms the spirit if you let it.'

 

When Phoebe arrived back at the practice he was still seeing patients from the late surgery and once she'd updated the notes of those she'd visited, she drove to the nursery to collect Marcus.

He greeted her as he usually did with a wide smile and arms outstretched, and what Harry had said about starting a family came back to her. When it came to the crunch she hadn't thought twice about it, but it was a fact that she was all her little one had to care for him. There was no one else in his life for him to love and if anything happened to her… Banishing the upsetting train of thought from her mind, she was cross with Harry for putting it in her head in the first place.

As she carried Marcus up to the apartments Phoebe was grateful that they had their own entrance. It meant that her comings and goings were not on view to surgery staff—most especially her unpredictable neighbour.

After being given the cold shoulder that morning, she was in no rush to meet him again. In a moment of rebellion she decided that once Marcus was tucked up for the night, she was going to give the decorating a miss and spend a quiet evening in front of the television with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolate. And she just might get dressed up for it as well, even though there would only be herself to see the result!

 

When surgery was over Harry didn't go straight up to the apartment. He wanted to make things right with his neighbour, but not to go butting in while she and the baby were having their evening meal or while she was bathing him.

So, not yet having tried the culinary delights on offer in Bluebell Cove, he went for a meal in a restaurant on the coast road where the food was wholesome and delicious and included some of his favourite Devonshire dishes.

When he'd finished what he felt was the best meal he'd had in months, he stopped off once again at Four Winds House on the headland as a follow-up to what Ethan had told him about his uncle's prostate problems.

Keith needed another check up, which would allow Harry to decide whether action was required. A quiet word to his uncle as he was leaving would be a spur to sort out an appointment at the hospital and ensure that Barbara wasn't worried by this news of her husband's health when she was already so busy struggling with her own.

He didn't know if his cousin Jenna knew about her father's problem and was going to sound her out at the first opportunity. She'd been a practice nurse at the surgery until little Lily's birth, and now her only connection with health care was as her husband's receptionist when he saw private patients at the clinic he ran from home.

The older folk were delighted to see him and Barbara's first comment was about the surgery and how was he settling in.

‘Fine,' he told her. ‘It's good to be back. The days are
lengthening and I'm looking forward to when it's going to be warm enough to swim in the sea.'

‘Do you see much of Phoebe and young Marcus in the other apartment?' Keith asked, unknowingly bringing to mind where his last call of the day was going to be.

‘We're in contact in the surgery, of course, during her comings and goings,' he replied, ‘but that's it. We've met a couple of times upstairs but only briefly. We try not to disturb each other after working hours if we can.' And if that wasn't a distortion of the truth he didn't know what was!

When he was ready to go, Keith came to the door with him as he'd expected, and Harry said in a low voice, ‘Ethan has passed on to me your concerns about your rising prostate count, and I feel that it is time you had another check-up at the hospital. Is it all right with you if I make an appointment?'

‘Yes, of course,' was the reply, ‘but I don't want Barbara to know about it. Time to tell her when, or if, there is something to tell.'

‘And Jenna?'

‘The same applies there. My daughter is having one of the happiest times of her life with a new husband and daughter that she adores. I don't want to be the one who bursts the bubble if I can help it.'

‘She won't like it that you've kept it from her,' he warned.

‘It's as I've just said, it will be time to tell when there's something that needs telling.'

 

The wine and the added warmth in the room were making Phoebe feel drowsy and relaxed for the first
time in ages, but when she heard the tap on her door she was jolted out of it.

Surely it wasn't Harry, she thought through the warm haze that had settled on her, not after this morning. Yet he was the only other person who had a key for the entrance to the apartments.

With a half-full wine glass in her hand she glided across to the door and opened it with a sort of queenly grace. Sure enough, he was there, eyes widening in amazement at the vision before him. She was dressed in a long black skirt, a white sequined top and wearing more make-up than he'd ever seen her use before.

‘Yes?' she said with the regal mode still on her. If he hadn't been so taken aback he would have laughed.

He could hear a voice in the background and thought, Oh, God! She's got company. I'm going to look a right fool.

‘I just want to say I'm sorry if I was rather abrupt this morning. That's it really,' he explained in a low voice.

‘Don't give it another thought,' she said smoothly, as if she hadn't been smarting for most of the day. ‘Do sleep well.' As he turned to go, she shut the door and went back to what she'd been doing, which wasn't a lot with only the television for company.

 

So Phoebe of the pale beauty and long brown hair was not the lonely single mother he'd assumed her to be, Harry thought as he cringed from the embarrassment of the last few moments. She'd been entertaining someone all dressed up and waving a wine glass in front of him to make sure he got the message.

So what? Surely he wasn't bothered about that, was he? He was the guy who was wearing a mental badge that said,
Touch me not
. He wasn't going to start yearning after the district nurse! She was the exact opposite of what Cassie had been like, though what was wrong with that?

He poured himself a beer, watched television for a while then went to bed, but not to sleep. His ears were straining for the sound of Phoebe's visitor departing, but it never came. He finally fell asleep just as dawn was breaking.

 

To his surprise, she had already dropped Marcus off at the nursery and, looking poised for action, was sorting out her home visits when he came downstairs the next morning.

On observing her, his first thought was that she didn't look like someone on the morning after a night of passion. But it had definitely been a man's voice he'd heard coming from her sitting room when she'd opened the door to him and listened graciously while he'd humbled himself outside on the landing.

Whoever it was, she'd certainly dressed up for him, he thought with sudden envy. At that moment she turned, saw him observing her, and said politely, ‘Good morning, Dr Balfour.'

‘Good morning,' he replied heavily, and went into his consulting room, before coming out again and asking as if some unseen force was putting the words into his mouth, ‘Did you have a nice evening with your friend?'

He watched her blink in surprise. ‘I'm not quite sure what you mean,' she told him coolly, ‘unless you're referring to last night, and you have been jumping to conclusions if you are. I spent the evening alone. What you saw when I opened the door was just me, trying to have a pleasant evening with a bottle of wine and the television.'

Harry felt his jaw go slack as what she was saying registered. Phoebe wasn't wrong about him jumping to conclusions. It was just one more instance of him interfering in her affairs. Yet there was a feeling of relief inside him as well as mortification as he admitted to himself that he hadn't wanted her to be with some other guy all dressed up and drinking wine.

He groaned. ‘I am so sorry. If I promise faithfully to mind my own business in future, will you forgive me?'

She wanted to tell him she could forgive him for much more than that.

Despite their recent misunderstandings, he was still the first person who had treated her as a normal woman, with her own needs and reassurances, since she'd had Marcus. The phrase ‘single mother' had a kind of stigma to it, as if she'd committed some sort of crime, but he didn't make her feel like that.

She smiled and he thought again how strangely beautiful she was. ‘Of course I can forgive you,' she said softly, ‘There is no reason why we can't be friends, is there, having found ourselves living in such close proximity?'

‘No, none at all,' he replied steadily, as if it was going
to be easy to be just that and nothing else. Then, as Millie went to open the doors to let in the sick and suffering at half past eight, they separated, each to their own functions.

 

The following day was Saturday and Phoebe intended doing what she usually did at the weekend—going into town to shop. She'd rung Jake to tell him she wouldn't be going sailing with him and Rory, and he hadn't seemed too disappointed, which had been a cause for relief.

She couldn't help but compare Jake with Harry, who, though he had some odd ideas about bringing children into the world, had nevertheless been there for her in the middle of the night, ready and willing to assist her in any way that he could.

It was amazing that someone without, or even with, family ties hadn't made a play for him already. His attractions were many—tall, broad shouldered, with a direct hazel gaze and dark russet thatch of hair to complete the picture.

Yet she'd observed there was a downside to him. He could display an abrupt kind of reserve that spoke of a life she knew nothing about, a life that had contained loneliness and neglect when he'd had no one to turn to for comfort.

All right, she'd had her own pit of despair to climb out of, but from that had come Marcus and everything had suddenly seemed worthwhile. What had happened to Harry to make him so unhappy?

She wondered what his wife had been like. Obviously someone special for him to be ready to leave the
beautiful countryside and coastlines of Devon to move to her country. Had he ever thought then that one day he would return without her?