Abigail Gordon - Country Midwife, Christmas Bride

It was dark when they left The Pheasant with no moon above and James said, ‘I’m going to walk you home, Lizzie, and will want to see you safely inside before I leave you.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she protested.

‘Yes, I’m sure you will, but nevertheless that is what I’m going to do.’

‘All right, then…and thanks,’ she said awkwardly without any social grace.

They walked in silence, past the shops all shuttered for the night, then skirted the single-storey village school built from the familiar limestone, and then the peace garden came in to sight, with the cottage across the way.

He watched in silence as she unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold and when she turned to face him, said, ‘Goodnight, Lizzie. Make sure you lock up when I’ve gone.’

She nodded mutely and watched until he disappeared from sight, then did as he’d said, and when that was done she sat on the bottom step of the stairs and wept because a stranger’s concern was breaking down her defences.

From what she’d seen of James so far he seemed to be that kind of person, considerate and caring towards everyone, herself included as the latest addition to the health care of his beloved village, and she didn’t want it to be like that. She didn’t want to have feelings in the half of her life that was empty, because with feelings came weakness and she needed to be strong to face each day.

As he walked home, James was telling himself that he had enough responsibilities in his life without attempting to take on the emotional burden that Lizzie obviously wanted to keep private. She was going to be the right one for the job and that was all that mattered.

It was Friday afternoon and Lady Derringham was about to cut the tape that had been placed across the entrance to the new maternity clinic in front of those assembled for the occasion, which included her husband, the chairman of the primary care trust for the area, dignitaries from St Gabriel’s, and Lizzie and James.

Lizzie could see Emma from the tea rooms at the front of the crowd that had gathered to watch the opening ceremony, and she smiled. Emma had been to see James and her booking-in appointment was arranged for that day.

Shortly she would have her photograph taken as the first patient to attend the clinic. It would be open for business and Lizzie’s feeling of being on the edge of things would disappear.

James was observing her and noting that today she was well and truly in her midwife mode, immaculate in the blue uniform of her calling, hair in the golden plait and eyes bright with the significance of the moment.

As his glance met hers he decided that the other side of her personality that had seemed so solitary and withdrawn must have been a figment of his imagination. She was calm, confident, unfazed by the ceremonial aspect of the gathering…and content.

The scissors had snipped, the tape was cut, and her ladyship was saying, ‘I now declare the Derringham Maternity Clinic well and truly open.’ And as she stepped inside they all trooped in after her.

As James came to stand beside Lizzie he said, ‘You are happy today, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’she replied. ‘More than I’ve been in a long time.’

He nodded. ‘That’s good.’

THE crowd had gone, the officials from St Gabriel’s had driven off in their cars. Only Lord and Lady Derringham remained and Lizzie was discovering that Olivia Derringham’s interest in the clinic was not going to be a passing thing.

As the person who was going to be in charge she had been expressing her appreciation of the facilities that had been provided and the uplifting design of the place and Olivia said, ‘If you think it would be all right, I’d like to volunteer to come in for a couple of mornings each week to give what assistance I can, even if it is only to make tea, help out the receptionist and perhaps settle the patients in the cubicles as they wait to be seen.’

‘That’s a very kind offer,’ Lizzie told her, slightly taken aback. ‘I’ll speak with James, but I’m sure it would be fine. Most of the time I will be on my own, except for the receptionist who is being transferred from the surgery, and I’m presuming that it will be quite busy, with expectant mothers from surrounding villages transferring to this clinic as well as those from Willowmere. I’ve been told that extra staff will be brought in if needed, but the hospital trust is waiting to see what the workload turns out to be first. So I would much appreciate help from someone like yourself.’

Olivia Derringham nodded and went on to say, ‘I suppose you know that we have donated the clinic as our way of thanking two members of the village practice who I believe are on honeymoon at the moment. I would have liked them to be here, as what they did for our son—you know he had a nasty fall while on a sponsored walk that they were also taking part in—was something that my husband and I won’t forget. But when they made their wedding plans they had no idea that the clinic would be finished so soon and urged us to go ahead with the opening rather than there be any delay, so here we are, and you’ll let me know about helping out then?’

‘Certainly. Thank you for your kind offer of support, Lady Derringham.’

‘Lizzie, the name is Olivia. I was working in a burger bar when I met His Lordship, and now I need to remind my husband, who is deep in conversation with Dr Bartlett, that we need to be home in time for nursery tea.’

‘You look somewhat stunned,’ James commented when they’d gone. ‘What gives?’

‘I don’t know if you would agree to this, James, but Her Ladyship has offered to help in the clinic for a couple of mornings each week.’

He frowned. ‘But she isn’t trained!’

‘Not doing midwifery. She’s volunteered her time to help out in Reception where needed, make tea and coffee, and make sure the patients are comfortable. In other words, she’s offering to be a general dogsbody.’

‘Amazing!’

She laughed. ‘She has no airs and graces. They met in a burger bar, of all places. She worked there. Don’t you think it’s rather romantic? She is a very nice woman. I’m sure we’d get on well.’

‘Yes, I’m sure you would,’ he agreed. ‘Well, let me look into this and I’ll let you know shortly.’ Lizzie smiled and he thought how she looked bright-eyed and happy now, but he knew that no matter how he tried to tell himself otherwise, somewhere not too far away was the other Lizzie, subdued and wanting to be left alone. But as he’d told himself several times since they’d met, that was her affair.

‘Until their son’s accident and David and Laurel’s involvement in it, we only saw the Derringhams rarely,’ he explained. ‘This is a new dimension her wanting to help in the clinic, and it is very commendable.’

‘Where do they live?’

‘At Kestrel Court, a large place on the way to the moors. His Lordship owns an estate up there, with grouse shooting and the like. Dennis Quarmby, one of my patients, is his gamekeeper, and the husband of Gillian, the practice nurse, is his estate manager.’ He checked his watch. ‘And now I need to be going. I’ve left Ben Allardyce coping with the late surgery on his own, which is a bit much, but fortunately he doesn’t seem to mind. What are you going to do now the ceremony is over? Wait for Emma to appear?’

‘Yes, I’m expecting her at any moment. She was with those watching and then the photographer approached her. She will know that I’m free now, and then after I’ve tidied up I think I’ll call it a day.’

He was on the point of departure. ‘Yes, do that. Have a nice weekend, Lizzie.’ Hoping that she might pleasantly surprise him, he added, ‘What do you usually do?’