A Summer Wedding At Willowmere. Abigail Gordon

many health problems of recent years.

      One of them had been a sore on her arm that had refused to heal. It had resulted in visits to the surgery for dressings over a long period of time, but the old lady had never complained and of recent months a skin graft had finally solved the problem.

      When she opened the door to him she said with a twinkle in her eye, ‘Can I offer you a drink of blackcurrant cordial, Doctor?’

      David was smiling as he followed her into a cosy sitting room. ‘Do you intend to put plenty of water with it, Sarah?’

      ‘One can’t do right for doing wrong in this life,’ she said laughingly. ‘I thought by taking the cordial almost neat I was building myself up, but no such thing.’

      ‘I know,’ he soothed. ‘But we’ve sorted you out, haven’t we?’

      ‘Yes, you have and I’m grateful. So to what do I owe this visit?’

      ‘It’s a courtesy call. Just to make sure you are all right.’

      ‘I’m fine. I’m not ready for pushing up the daisies yet. I’m going to enter my home-made jam and Madeira cake at the Summer Fayre at the end of July just to prove it. Are you going to be there?’

      ‘Yes, now that you’ve told me about it. Although it’s a while off yet, isn’t it, as June is still bursting out all over. What time does it start?’

      ‘Eleven in the morning until four in the afternoon. The café and the judging take place in a big marquee that Lord Derringham lends us. He’s the rich man who owns the estate on the tops. One of your practice nurses is married to his manager and Christine Quarmby, who has that ailment with the funny name, is his gamekeeper’s wife.’

      ‘I can see that if I want to get to know what is going on in the village this is the place to come,’ he commented. ‘Do the people in Willowmere see much of His Lordship?’

      Sarah shook her head. ‘No, keeps himself to himself, but on the odd occasion that he does appear he’s very pleasant and, like I said, he lets us use the marquee.

      ‘On the night before the Fayre we have a party in the park that runs alongside the river. There’s food and drink, and a band on a stage to play for dancing, with us women in long dresses and the men in dinner jackets. You must come.’

      ‘Why? Will you be there?’

      ‘Of course.’ She had a twinkle back in her eye. ‘Though I’m not into rock and roll. A sedate waltz is more in my line.’

      ‘So can I book the first one?’

      ‘Yes, you can.’

      ‘I’m impressed.’

      ‘Get away with you.’ She chuckled. ‘When the young females of Willowmere see you all dressed up, the likes of me won’t be able to get near you.’

      David laughed. ‘Talking about young females, I gave one a lift from the station today.’

      ‘Oh, yes? And who would that be?’

      ‘She’s called Laurel and is the niece of Elaine the practice manager.’

      Sarah smiled. ‘So that’s another one that’ll be in the queue.’

      I don’t think so, he thought, and returned to more serious matters by changing the subject. ‘Right, Sarah. So shall I do what I’ve come for?’

      He checked her heart and blood pressure, felt her pulse and the glands in her neck, and when he’d finished told her, ‘No problems there at the moment, but before I go is there anything troubling you healthwise that you haven’t told me about?’

      She shook her silver locks. ‘No, Doctor. Not at the moment.’

      He was picking up his bag. ‘That’s good, then, and if I don’t see you before I’ll see you at the party in the park.’

      ‘So tell me more about Dr Trelawney,’ Laurel said after David had gone. ‘He told me that he’s one of the GPs here.’

      ‘He joined us just a short time ago from St Gabriel’s Hospital where he was a registrar seeking a change of direction,’ Elaine explained. ‘David has replaced Georgina Allardyce, who has just given birth and tied the knot for a second time with the husband she was divorced from almost four years ago.

      ‘Georgina is on maternity leave at the moment and may come back part time in the future. In the meantime, we are fortunate to have David, who is clever, capable, and has slotted in as if he was meant to be part of the village’s health care.’

      ‘He was kind and I don’t think I behaved very well,’ Laurel said regretfully. ‘In fact, I was a pain. I’ll apologise the next time we meet, but I felt so awful. I’m a freak, Elaine.’

      ‘Nonsense, Laurel. You are brave and beautiful,’ her aunt protested. ‘The scars, mental and physical, will fade. Just give them time, dear.’

      ‘Everything is such an effort,’ she said despondently. ‘I’d put on my war paint and nice clothes to make a statement, but didn’t fool anyone, certainly not the Trelawney guy. He suggested that I see a doctor.’

      ‘And what did you say to that?’

      ‘That I’d seen plenty over the last few months and was about to tell him that I’m no ignoramus myself when it comes to health care, but you arrived at that moment.’

      ‘Right,’ Elaine said briskly, having no comment to make regarding that. ‘Let’s get you settled in. David said you fainted, so how do you feel now?’

      ‘Better. He gave me some milk and biscuits.’

      ‘Good. So let’s show you where you’ll be sleeping. Take your time up the stairs, watch your leg. I’ve put you in the room with the best view. It overlooks Willow Lake, which is one of the most beautiful places in the area.’

      ‘Really,’ was the lacklustre response, and Elaine hid a smile. Laurel was a city dweller through and through and might be bored out here in the countryside, but she needed the change of scene and the slower pace of life. Elaine wasn’t going to let her go back to London until she was satisfied that her niece was fully recovered from an experience that she was not ever likely to forget.

      ‘Is your fiancé going to visit while you’re here?’ Elaine asked after she’d helped bring up Laurel’s cases. ‘He will be most welcome.’

      ‘It’s off,’ Laurel told her as she peered through the window at the view that she’d been promised. ‘I’m too thin and pale for him these days…and then there are the scars, of course.’

      ‘Then he doesn’t love you enough,’ Elaine announced, and without further comment went down to make them a late lunch.

      She was right, Laurel thought dolefully when she’d gone, but it hurt to hear it said out loud. Darius was in the process of making his name in one of the television soaps and had rarely been to see her while she’d been hospitalised, and less still since she’d been discharged. When she’d said she was going to the countryside to assist her recovery he’d thought she was out of her mind.

      ‘You’re crazy, babe,’ he’d said. ‘Why would you want to leave London for fields full of cow pats?’

      If his visits had been sparse, not so Elaine’s. Her aunt had been to see her in hospital whenever she could and Laurel loved her for it. Other friends had been kind and loyal too. But Darius, the one she’d wanted to see the most, had been easing her out of his life all the time. In the end, dry eyed and disenchanted, she’d given him his ring back.

      After they’d eaten Elaine said, ‘Why don’t you sit out in the garden for a while and let the sun bring some colour to your pale cheeks while I clear away?’

      ‘If you say so,’ Laurel agreed without much enthusiasm and, picking up a magazine that she’d bought