A Baby For The Village Doctor. Abigail Gordon

Mother and child as one of them, and father with his child the other.

      James was observing her sympathetically and she smiled sadly. ‘I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.’

      What she’d said to James was still uppermost in her mind as Georgina took her evening stroll later that day. Her baby was going to know its father, as she didn’t doubt for a moment that Ben would be back. He’d made that crystal clear. It would be as an older, more sombre version of the husband she’d adored, but a loving father nevertheless.

      As she’d told James, she didn’t know where he was going to stay. But it couldn’t be with her. They might be about to start a new family, but it didn’t mean she was going to accept that as a reason for pretending anything that wasn’t there.

      When she turned to wend her homeward way in the quiet evening the silence was broken by a train en route for the city, travelling across the aqueduct high above the river. Once it had gone there was peace once more down below, and a fisherman engaged in one of the quietest of sporting activities cast his rod over the dancing water.

      * * *

      It was two days later. Georgina had done some shopping in the village on her way home—meat from the butcher’s, fresh bread and vegetables from the baker’s and greengrocer’s—and as was her custom, she went straight through to the kitchen to start preparing the food.

      When she glanced through the window, her eyes widened. Ben was mending a gap in the fence between the two cottages, and as if conscious that he was being watched, he looked up and with hammer in hand gave a casual wave then carried on with what he was doing.

      She drew back out of sight and hurried to the front of the house. Surely enough, the ‘To Let’ sign had been replaced on the cottage next door to one that said ‘Let by Robert Ingram’.

      Ben had never been in the habit of doing things by halves, she thought as she leaned limply against the doorpost. It was one of the reasons why he was so successful in his career. But this time he’d excelled himself.

      Not only had he come to live in her village, but he’d taken up residence almost on her doorstep. Obviously he wasn’t intending to miss anything that concerned his pregnant wife and the child she was carrying.

      Maybe repairing the gap in the fence was an indication that though he’d sought her out he was going to stay on his own side of the fence, or perhaps on discovering that she was pregnant his interest had moved from mother to child, and until it was born he would be keeping his distance. If either of those things were in his mind, shouldn’t she be relieved?

      Contrary to all the thoughts that had been going through her mind since they’d met at her gate, she went out into the garden and, leaning over the fence, said stiffly, ‘I’ve bought steaks and fresh vegetables and it’s just as easy to cook for two as for one. It will be ready in about half an hour if you want to join me.’

      He paused in the act of hammering a nail in and looking up, said, ‘Er…thanks for the offer, but I’ve been shopping myself and have a lasagne in the oven.’ He hesitated. ‘It’s big enough for two. It would save you cooking after a busy day at the practice.’

      Taken aback by the suggestion, she gazed at him blankly and he groaned inwardly. After the other day’s chilly welcome, he had promised himself that now he was established in the village he would take it slowly with Georgina. Keep in the background but be there if he was needed. So what was he doing?

      ‘I only made the suggestion because I’ve had cause to discover that it’s no joke coming home to an empty house and having to start cooking after working all day,’ he said into the silence. ‘At one time I was keeping the fast-food counters in the stores going, but that didn’t last.’

      His kitchen door was open. She could smell the food cooking and told herself that Ben asking her to dine with him was no different than her asking him over. They were both doing it out of politeness. It didn’t mean anything.

      ‘Yes, all right,’ she agreed. ‘How long before we eat?’

      ‘Twenty minutes, if that’s OK?’

      ‘Yes. It will give me time to shower away the day and change into some comfortable clothes.’ Turning, she went back inside with the feeling that she was making a big mistake.

      CHAPTER THREE

      WHEN Ben opened the door to her twenty minutes later, Georgina stepped into a bare, newly decorated hall that could only be described as stark. When he showed her into the sitting room, it was the same, and a vision of their London house came to mind, spacious, expensively furnished, in the leafy square not far from the park where she’d taken Jamie that day.

      Yet Ben was prepared to live in this soulless place and she wondered what was in his mind. He was going to be involved, come what may, but their marriage had foundered long ago. It had hit rock bottom and wasn’t going to rise out of the ashes because they’d made a child.

      But that occasion had been the forerunner of an unexpected chain of events that had brought him back into her life. Not because he’d known about the baby. That had really rocked him on his feet. He’d come in reply to her letter. Curious, no doubt, to find his ex-wife surfacing from her hidey-hole.

      ‘What?’ he asked, observing her expression.

      ‘This place must seem rather basic after our house in London.’

      ‘It’s adequate,’ he said dryly. ‘I long since ceased to notice the delights of that place.’ He pointed to a small dining area of the same standard as the rest of the house. ‘If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll dish out the food.’

      This is unreal, Georgina thought as Ben brought in a perfectly cooked lasagne and a bowl of salad, yet she had to admit it was nice to sit down to a meal that was ready to eat after a busy day at the practice.

      ‘So what is there to do in the evenings in this place?’ he asked as he served the food.

      ‘Well, you already know the Pheasant in the village, which is the centre of the night life. Everyone congregates there to drink and chat in the evenings. Willowmere is a very friendly place, a small community where everyone cares about everyone else.’

      ‘So you go to the pub every night, then?’

      ‘I didn’t say that was what I do. My evenings are spent clearing up after my meal and then taking a short walk. This is a beautiful place. I either stroll along the river bank or to Willow Lake, which isn’t far away, and contrary to life in the big city, I’m meeting people I know all the time I’m out there, not just because I’m their doctor but because that’s what village life is all about.’

      She didn’t tell him that it had been her lifesaver in the lonely months when she’d first come to live there, when the feeling of no longer being part of the life that she’d once thought would be hers for ever had been unbearable.

      ‘After that I come home, have a hot drink and go to bed,’ she concluded.

      ‘So maybe you’ll show me around some of these places that you’re so fond of,’ he said equably, as if not appalled at the similarity of their lives where there was work, lots of it, then coming home to an empty house and a scratch meal, and in his case, watching television for as long as he could stand it before going up to the bed they’d once shared.

      ‘Maybe,’ she said noncommittally. ‘I suppose you think my life here sounds dull, but it is what I want. I don’t ever want another relationship with anyone, Ben. Any love I have to spare will be for my baby.’

      ‘Our baby!’ he corrected, as his spirits plummeted.

      ‘Yes, indeed. I’m sorry, Ben. It will be ours, yours and mine,’ she agreed, ‘but don’t have expectations about anything else.’

      ‘I won’t,’ he told her steadily, and steered the conversation into other channels. ‘You haven’t asked