His Perfect Bride? Read online

  ‘It’s after the Blue Moon roses my gran planted when she was a little girl. They’re all around it and they won prizes in the village show. If you’re still here in summer you’ll see them in bloom. They’re quite beautiful.’

  She smiled. ‘I’m sure they are.’

  ‘So, shall I give you a hand to pack all this bling away?’ He pointed at the box full of coin-edged skirts and multicoloured scarves she’d given to his patients.

  Lula laughed. ‘Thanks. It is a lot of bling. The hall warden said I could store it below the stage.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He helped her lift a large bag through the stage door opening. They were about to leave when Lula pointed out a couple of boxes covered by thick blankets.

  ‘Could you help me take those out? They’re mine. I couldn’t leave them in the car.’

  Olly nodded and hefted the two boxes one on top of the other, hearing metal clank inside. Then they left the village hall, pulling the door closed after switching off the lights.

  Outside, the snow was lit by the fairy lights, so it blinked softly in reds and blues, yellows and greens. It was really quite pretty, and had the effect of making Lula look even more multicoloured than she had been before. Like a peacock.

  Definitely a magical fairy.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

  He blinked. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You were staring. At me.’ She grinned.

  Olly licked his lips, thinking quickly. ‘Ah, right…yes. Erm…I was just wondering where you’d parked your car? I don’t see one.’

  She pointed, her hand seeming to twinkle in the lights as they reflected off her rings and bangles. ‘I parked down the road. I wanted the patients to be able to park close.’

  ‘That’s kind.’

  She accepted the compliment. ‘Thank you. I try to be. So…?’

  ‘So…?’

  ‘Will you drive in front? Show me where the cottage is?’

  Of course! Idiot! Stupid!

  ‘Sure. But let’s make sure your car starts first.’

  ‘Oh, she always does.’

  ‘She?’

  ‘Betsy.’

  ‘Your car is called Betsy?’

  ‘Betsy the Bug.’ She stopped in front of a red car with large black polka dots on it, like a ladybird.

  Once again Olly was left standing mute and blinking. After a moment he managed, ‘Cute.’

  ‘I think so. Here—why don’t you put that large one in the front? This small one can go in the boot.’

  Her engine rumbled into life straight away and he pointed out his four-wheel drive, further up the road. Lula said that she’d wait for him and he walked back up to his car, his boots crunching in the snow, muttering to himself.

  ‘Dad, I’m going to kill you… What on earth have you done?’

  As a choice of locum she was a tad…out there. Not the sort of locum he’d expected his father to hire. There had to have been plenty of other doctors he might have chosen from. Sensible, sedate people. The type to blend in with village life.

  Not this firecracker…

  His four-wheel drive started first time and he indicated to pull out, noticing her following him through the high street. He took a left and kept looking in his rearview mirror to make sure she was still there. Still following.

  He thought of his ‘perfect wife’ list.

  She didn’t match any of the items on it.

  But he felt mysteriously intrigued by her.

  Bewitching. That’s what she is.

  *

  Lula followed Olly through the village roads, realizing she’d made a big mistake. When she’d come for her interview with Patrick, she’d known she was getting involved with a father-and-son team and that had seemed fine. But Patrick was a silver-haired fox, with sparkling, kind eyes, and she should have just known that the son was going to be drop-dead gorgeous. However, she hadn’t worried too much about it. She’d concentrated much more on her other reason for coming to Atlee Wold and assumed that Patrick’s son would be just another person to work with.

  But when he’d walked into that village hall… It had been as if a film star had walked in. She’d half expected to see paparazzi following him in. Gorgeous and sexy, yet a down-to-earth guy. She’d tried to ignore him so that she could carry on with her class. She’d even stumbled over her steps. But thankfully no one had seemed to notice.

  And now she was following him. Through the snowy streets. In Betsy. Following his old jalopy.

  Olly had pulled up outside a small thatched cottage surrounded by tall briar wood. It looked pretty, and she could only imagine how gorgeous it might look in the summertime, with its white walls and blue roses, butterflies and bees flitting about the place. There was an arched trellis over the front door, with what looked like an ancient Russian vine growing over it.

  It really wasn’t that far from the GP surgery, or the village hall, and she hoped that tomorrow she could try walking in to work. She had a pair of wellies somewhere in one of the boxes she already had in the car. A small removals lorry would drop off her other stuff tomorrow.

  He stood back so she could make fresh tracks in the snow to the front door, and then he passed her a key.

  Smiling, she took it and tried to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry—I’ll look after the place.’

  ‘I’m sure you will. Shall we get the lights on, the fire burning and then get your boxes in?’

  Lula nodded. ‘Sounds great.’ Though it might be a bit awkward, the two of them alone before a roaring fire…

  The key turned easily and she pushed open the door, wondering what to expect. Patrick had agreed to let the cottage out to her at a reduced rate and the price was very reasonable. She certainly wouldn’t be able to get a place in London at the rate he’d given her—not even a bedsit! And here she was with the key to a beautiful, thatched, two-bedroom cottage.

  Inside, she found the light switches and gasped in delight. The low roof created an immediate intimacy in the small rooms. The lounge furniture was covered in white sheets, but when she removed them she found old, chintzy chairs, with scatter cushions made from patchwork, and an old green leather sofa. The walls were whitewashed, with exposed dark beams, and there was a good-sized fireplace already stacked with logs.

  ‘Shall I start the fire for you?’ Olly said.

  Lula smiled. ‘That’s okay. I can do it. Why don’t you get me those boxes from Betsy?’

  He nodded, but she could tell he would have been a lot happier playing with the fire.

  Typical man.

  She liked Olly already. He was charming and old-fashioned and very English. He had classic good looks, with dark blond hair and bright blue eyes like Chris Hemsworth. Just my type. But, despite the handsome looks and the knockout body, she hoped she didn’t have to worry about there being an attraction between them whilst they worked. It wasn’t the sort of thing she was looking for. Not here. There were other reasons for her being in Atlee Wold and romance wasn’t one of them.

  The firelighters worked quickly and Lula soon had a bright orange flame licking at the wood. There was a stack of old newspapers to one side, and she screwed up a few and inserted them into gaps in the wood to help it. Soon the crackling flames had taken hold and the fire began to build. She stood warming her hands as Olly came barging in, carrying the larger of her two blanketed boxes.

  ‘What’s in this thing?’

  She took it from him, looked around and saw a table in the corner that looked suitable. Setting the box down, she freed the blanket and whipped it off. ‘Say hello to Nefertiti and Cleo!’

  She saw him take a step back, his mouth open in shock and horror. ‘Are they…rats?’

  Lula grinned and bit her lip as she stooped down to open the door of the cage and both rats—one dark brown and one pure white with pink eyes—climbed out onto her hands and ran up her arm to sit on her shoulder. ‘Dumbo rats. Aren’t they beautiful?’

  He looked carefully at her, as if judgi
ng her sanity. ‘They’re rats.’

  ‘They’re very intelligent animals.’

  ‘So are dolphins, but you don’t have two of those, do you?’ He watched the rats play around under the dark wisps of Lula’s hair, their noses and whiskers twitching. Then he had a sudden dreadful thought. ‘What’s in the other box? The one in the boot of your car?’

  Lula grinned. ‘Anubis. You’d better get him—he’s on a heat pad especially.’

  Olly put his hands on his hips. ‘What is Anubis?’

  She tilted her head to one side, amused by his reaction. ‘I’ll get him. Here.’

  She reached up and took hold of the two rats from under her hair and planted them on his shoulder. She could see how he froze and winced and twitched at each of their movements as they gave him a good sniff. Their little pink noses and whiskers tickled his ears.

  Olly stood frozen, as if rigor mortis had set in. ‘Please hurry.’

  Lula chuckled, threw her jacket on and rushed out into the snow. Pretty soon she came back with the smaller blanketed box and put it on the coffee table. There was a cable and plug for this one, and when she pressed the wall switch a small light came on inside the blanket.

  Olly stood awkwardly with the two rats running about his shoulders. ‘Could you take these?’

  Lula laughed. He looked so funny standing there, with his shoulders all hunched up by his ears and two rats perched on his shoulder, trying to sniff the hair on his head. She scooped them up easily and placed them back in their cage.

  Olly let out a big breath and then brushed off his shoulders. ‘Thanks. So, Anubis…what is he?’

  She looked at him slightly askance. ‘He’s my big challenge.’

  ‘Challenge? Why?’

  ‘Because I’m scared to death of him, and as I’m determined to beat all my fears I’ve borrowed him from a friend until I get over that fear.’

  Olly gave a single nod. ‘And that fear is called…?’ Though he had a suspicion.

  Lula removed the blanket. ‘Arachnophobia.’

  In the small tank, amongst some wood and soil, was a large, very dark, very hairy, red-kneed tarantula.

  He peered closer. ‘It’s bigger than my hand.’

  ‘Isn’t he a beauty?’

  ‘I thought you were scared?’

  ‘I am. But I can still appreciate how gorgeous he is.’

  ‘And it’s your aim in life to pick this thing up?’

  She nodded. ‘One of my aims. Eventually.’

  Olly shook his head. ‘You’re madder than a boxful of circus clowns.’

  They both laughed, but then Lula shivered and headed over to the fire and stood with her back to it, hands stretched out behind her. ‘Freezing!’

  ‘Shall I get the rest of the boxes?’

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’

  ‘It depends… Are there any more zoo creatures in Betsy?’

  Lula smiled. ‘Just woolly jumpers.’

  ‘Safe enough. Though you might have warned me earlier that I was handling livestock.’

  *

  They’d unloaded all the boxes, and Lula had put her clothes away and freshened up, when Olly’s phone rang. The out-of-hours doctor service informed him that one of his older patients in the area was suffering from chest pains. Could he go?

  ‘It’s Mr Maynard. He lives out on one of the farms. We’ll take my car.’

  Lula nodded. It would be best to start with, until she got to know her way around—where the best roads were, what shortcuts there were. And this was a good way to meet some of the patients who couldn’t make it into the surgery for various reasons. She was particularly drawn to find all of those patients who tried to keep themselves hidden away and make sure she saw everyone.

  As Olly drove he filled her in on Mr Maynard.

  ‘He’s eighty-two years old and lives alone. His farm was a dairy once, but he never married or had kids and during the nineties everything just fell to pieces. He had to sell his herd and now he lives in the farmhouse alone.’

  Lula thought it sounded a very lonely existence. ‘How does he get out and about?’

  ‘He doesn’t. His arthritis is bad, so he doesn’t drive. Molly from the village shop goes up twice a week with his shopping and drops it into his kitchen. He generally looks after himself.’

  ‘Any other health conditions I ought to know about?’

  ‘He’s got high blood pressure, but he’s on medication for that.’

  ‘Ramipril?’

  Olly nodded. ‘And a diuretic.’

  The diuretic had been included to help reduce fluid in the body. The more fluid there was to be transported in thin arteries, the higher the blood pressure, so a diuretic helped to reduce fluid build-up.

  Driving through the village at night was quite surreal. Everywhere was covered in snow, and yellow lamplight lit the way every thirty yards or so, until eventually they hit the outskirts of the village and the lamplight disappeared. They had to rely on the four-wheel drive’s headlights, and with thick snow still falling it was very slow going.

  Lula wondered how on earth Molly at the shop would even get to Mr Maynard’s farm with the ground covered like this. Did she have a four-wheel drive?

  A sign appeared—‘Burner’s Farm’—and Olly turned into its driveway. They were bumped and jostled along as he drove down the pitted road and eventually an old stone farmhouse appeared, surrounded by old barns and outbuildings in a crumbling state of decay. It was hard to see the property’s true state at night, but Lula could see that there were sections of roof missing from the barn due to the snowfall, and that all the old machinery was decaying from lack of use.

  Alighting from the car, Olly grabbed his bag and he and Lula trudged through the snow to the farmhouse door. Olly banged on it quite hard, before pushing it open and calling out. ‘Mr Maynard? Donald? It’s Dr James and Dr Chance.’

  ‘In here,’ a croaky voice called back.

  The hallway was dark, but at the end of it was a brightly lit room from which warmth poured. Lula was glad he had a coal fire on the go, and was keeping warm at least. Their patient was sitting in a chair with blankets round him, and at his side were the remains of a hot dinner and a glass of red wine.

  ‘Donald? This is Dr Chance—she’s new at the surgery. How are you?’

  Mr Maynard peered past Olly at her and beamed in a giant smile. ‘Well, hello, dear, and what a pretty little thing you are!’

  ‘Hello, Mr Maynard. How are you doing?’ She sat down beside him, instantly taking in whatever information she could—the colour of his skin, whether or not he seemed clammy, his respiratory rate—but he looked good. He was a healthy colour, not out of breath and with no signs of sweating.

  ‘I’m all right now. They just panic at the other end of the phone, don’t they?’

  She felt sure he was referring to the people who manned the out-of-hours doctor service. She herself didn’t think they panicked, but they had to respond urgently if a patient mentioned chest pains. It could be life-threatening.

  ‘What made you call in tonight?’

  ‘Well, my chest was hurting, my dear, and when you’re all alone you convince yourself you’re about to kick the bucket at any moment so I rang up. But I had a damned good belch and felt a lot better. Just indigestion, I think—all stuff and nonsense. No need for you to have come out and checked on me.’

  She shook her head, smiling, and patted the back of his hand. ‘There’s every need to check on you. Now, while we’re here, let’s check your blood pressure and pulse—is that okay?’

  He let them do their tests, and he seemed quite well. His blood pressure was in the normal range for him and his pulse rate was steady and strong. He had no pain, and they could see that he’d eaten a particularly strong curry, so perhaps he was right and it was just indigestion he’d experienced.

  ‘You’re on your own out here, Mr Maynard?’ Lula asked.

  ‘Call me Donald, dear.’

  ‘Donald.’ She sm
iled.

  ‘I am. Been this way for years—lost my Teddy eight years back.’

  ‘Teddy?’

  ‘The dog,’ Olly said. ‘Gorgeous Border collie, he was.’

  ‘That he was,’ said Donald.

  ‘Don’t you miss getting out and about, Donald? You must get bored, being here in these four walls all the time?’

  ‘I do…but what am I going to do? I don’t like bingo, and I don’t like going down the pub—it’s not my thing. I like a bit of culture, me, and there ain’t no culture in Atlee Wold.’

  Lula nodded in understanding. ‘You like wine?’ She pointed at his glass.

  ‘Only the good stuff!’ He chuckled.

  ‘Well, you leave it with me, Donald. Let me see what I can arrange.’

  When they got back in the car Olly looked at her questioningly. ‘What are you planning?’

  ‘I know someone who knows someone else. I think we can get Mr Maynard out and about and enjoying life again. Why should he be stuck at that farm with just memories? There’s life in the old dog yet.’

  He smiled. ‘He seemed to like you.’

  ‘He’s a nice guy.’

  ‘He is a nice guy. But I’ve been trying to get him involved with village life for years and he’s never budged from that chair.’

  She smiled mysteriously. ‘Perhaps he needs something more than just this village? Never underestimate the power of a good woman.’

  He looked at her askance. What was wrong with ‘just’ the village?

  Perhaps she bewitches her patients, too.

  *

  The next morning Lula telephoned a colleague’s friend in Petersfield, who ran coach holidays, and told him about Donald Maynard. After a quick discussion they found a trip for Donald that they thought would suit him down to the ground. It was a tour of wineries in the Loire region of France, over three days, stopping off at some lovely B & Bs along the way and all at a greatly reduced price.

  Lula rang Mr Maynard and asked him if he could be ready in a week’s time to catch a bus, if it collected him from the end of his driveway.

  Donald was thrilled. ‘Chuffed to mint balls’ was his expression, and he couldn’t thank Lula enough. She put the phone down at her end, feeling delighted that she’d been able to help a wonderful old man who deserved to enjoy life, despite his years.