His Christmas Bride-To-Be (Medical Romance) Read online

  Emma left the office feeling weary and confused about life in general.

  A time check revealed that the practice building only minutes away would still be open and she decided to stop by and say hello to whoever was on duty, admitting to herself that if Dr Glenn Bartlett was one of them it would be an ideal moment to see him in a different light after being taken aback by his unexpected visit the night before.

  He wasn’t there, but there were those who knew her from previously and in the middle of carrying out their functions either waved or flashed a smile across until such time as they were free to talk.

  As she looked around her Emma was aware that the place had been redecorated since she’d last seen it. The seating and fabrics were new and there was an atmosphere of busy contentment amongst staff that hadn’t always been there when Jeremy Chalmers had reigned.

  ‘Emma!’ a voice cried from behind her, and when she turned she saw Lydia Forrester, the practice manager, who ran the business side of the place from an office downstairs, was beaming across at her.

  ‘I hope you’re back to stay,’ she went on to say. ‘I’ve missed you and wasn’t happy about the way you disappeared into the night all that time ago. It was a relief to hear from your father’s solicitors that you’d been located and were coming home to arrange Jeremy’s funeral. He was very subdued for a long time after you left.’

  ‘Did he marry again?’ Emma questioned. ‘I’ve wondered who was going to be the bride.’

  ‘Marry!’ Lydia exclaimed. ‘Whatever makes you ask that?’ She looked around her. ‘How about us going down to my office for a coffee? They are too busy here to have time to talk. It will quieten down towards lunchtime, and then we can come back up.’

  ‘Yes, that would be great,’ Emma replied, and followed her downstairs.

  Lydia was silent as she made the drink and produced biscuits to go with it, but once they were seated she said awkwardly, ‘I would have been the bride, Emma. Your father was going to marry me. We had been seeing each other away from the practice for a few months and when he asked me to marry him I said yes, never expecting for a moment that he would want to throw you out of the house. When he confessed that he’d told you to find somewhere else to live and that you’d gone that same night I was appalled and called the wedding off. So, my dear, you have the missing bride here before you.’

  ‘You!’ Emma exclaimed incredulously, with the memory of Jeremy’s hurtful revelations about him not being her father just as painful now as they’d been then. ‘You gave up your chance of happiness because of me? I wouldn’t have minded moving out, especially as it was you that he was intending to marry.’

  She couldn’t tell Lydia the rest of it. Why she’d gone in the night, feeling hurt and humiliated, desperate to get away from what she’d been told, but holding no blame against her mother. She’d dealt with women and teenage girls in the practice in the same position that her mother had been in and had sympathised with their problems.

  The practice manager was smiling. ‘Your disappearance saved me from what would have been a big mistake, marrying Jeremy. I’d never been married before. Had never wanted to, but as middle age was creeping up on me it was getting a bit lonely and...well you know the rest. But happiness doesn’t come at the expense of the hurt of others...and ever since I’ve looked upon it as a lucky escape.’

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve explained,’ Emma told her. ‘From the first moment of my return I’ve wondered why the house felt so empty and cheerless. I’ve felt that I couldn’t possibly live in it under those conditions, but now I might change my mind and make it fit to stay here.’

  Feet on the stairs and voices were coming down towards them. It was twelve o’clock Saturday lunchtime, the practice had closed, and as friends of yesterday and newcomers she had to get to know crowded round her, for the first time it felt like coming home.

  ‘Where is Glenn this morning?’ she heard someone ask, and before a reply was forthcoming he spoke from up above.

  ‘Did I hear my name mentioned?’ he asked from the top of the stairs, and as he came down towards them he smiled across at her and asked the assembled staff, ‘So have you done anything about arranging a welcome night out for Dr Chalmers?’

  ‘We were just about to,’ someone said. ‘It’s why we’re all gathered below decks, but first we need to know if Emma would like that sort of thing.’

  ‘I would love it,’ she told them with a glance at Lydia, who had brought some clarity into her life and was smiling across at her.

  ‘So how about tonight, at one of the restaurants on the Promenade that has a dance floor?’ Mark Davies, a young GP trainee and a stranger to her, suggested. ‘Any excuse for food and fun.’

  As the idea seemed to appeal to the rest of them it was arranged that they meet at the Barrington Bar at eight o’clock. As they all went home to make the best of what was left of Saturday, Emma felt that it was beginning to feel more like a homecoming, although she had no idea what to wear.

  There had been no time or inclination to dress up where she’d been. It had been cotton cropped trousers and a loose shirt with a wide-brimmed hat to protect her face from the heat of the sun, and any clothes that she’d left in the wardrobe here would be reminders of the hurt that being told she had been living there on sufferance had caused. They would also smell stale.

  So after a quick bite in a nearby snack bar she went clothes shopping for the evening ahead and found the experience exhilarating after the long gap of wearing attractive outfits. Her euphoria didn’t last long.

  There was the arranging of Jeremy’s funeral that had to be her first priority after the weekend, and if she’d needed a reminder the amount of black outfits in the boutiques and big stores would have given her memory the necessary prod.

  As she made her way homewards with a dark winter suit and matching accessories for the funeral, and, totally opposite, a turquoise mini-dress for the night ahead with silver shoes and a white fake-fur jacket, Emma was remembering that it was the new head of the practice who had prompted the staff to arrange the welcome-back occasion of the coming evening. Would he be there?

  Glenn Bartlett knew her less than anyone and, having seen him in the smart black overcoat, she imagined that he would turn up well dressed.

  He did come, looking more like an attractive member of the opposite sex than a sombre well-wisher, and suddenly the evening felt happy and carefree after her time of hurt and toiling in hot places.

  For one thing, Lydia had solved the missing wife mystery that had been concerning Emma, and for another the surgery crowd, apart from a couple of newcomers, had been delighted to see her back in Glenminster. And to feel wanted was a wonderful thing.

  The Barrington Bar, where they were gathered, was one of the town’s high spots as it boasted good food in a smart restaurant area beside a dance floor with musicians who were a delight to the ear, and as she looked around her the new head of the practice said from behind her, ‘So is it good to be back, Emma?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, sparkling back at him, and he thought that the weary-looking occupant of what had been a drab, deserted house had come out of her shell with gusto. The dress, jacket and shoes were magical.

  Some of the practice staff had brought partners with them but not so Glenn Bartlett. There was a look of solitariness about him, even though he was being friendly enough after their uncomfortable first meeting.

  Did he live alone in the converted barn that he’d mentioned when he’d rung her bell last night? she wondered. Someone had said when they’d all been gathered at the practice earlier that he’d been taking his father with the big appetite home.

  At that moment James Prentice, a young GP who had recently joined the practice, appeared at her side and asked if she would like to dance. As Emma smiled at him and took hold of his outstretched hand, the man by her side strolled toward
s the bar and once he’d been served seated himself at an empty table and gazed into space unsmilingly.

  * * *

  He’d been a fool to come, Glenn was thinking. The fact that he’d suggested a welcome homecoming for Jeremy Chalmers’s daughter would have been enough to add to switching on the heating and filling the refrigerator in that ghastly place, without turning out for a night at the Barrington Bar. It would have been a tempting idea at one time but not now, never again.

  If it hadn’t been for the fact that Emma Chalmers had returned to the Cotswolds for a very sad occasion he would have left her to it, but common decency had required that he make sure she had food and warmth and the pleasure of tonight’s gathering to make her feel welcome because she’d looked tired and joyless on her arrival, which was not surprising after a long flight and a funeral to arrange as soon as possible.

  Glenn finished his drink and, rising from his seat, told those of his companions who were nearest that he was leaving, going home to enjoy the peace that his father’s departure had restored.

  Emma was still on the dance floor in her partner’s arms and as she glanced across he waved a brief goodbye and was gone.

  Back home he sat in silence, gazing out into the dark night with the memory of Jeremy Chalmers’s last moments on the golf course starkly clear. He’d known him before stepping into the vacancy that his passing had left.

  The then head of the practice and his father had met at university. Jeremy, who had been on the point of retiring, had invited his friend’s son, also a doctor, to stay for the weekend to familiarise himself with the running of the practice with a view to taking over as his replacement in the very near future after the necessary procedures had been dealt with.

  They’d gone for a round of golf after lunch at the club and while on the course Jeremy had suffered the heart attack that had proved fatal. In intense pain he had managed to gasp out his last request and he, Glenn, working on him desperately as he’d tried to save him, had been stunned when he’d heard what it was.

  ‘I have a daughter,’ he’d croaked between pain spasms, ‘and I upset her gravely some years ago, so much so that she left to go where I don’t know, except it wasn’t in this country. Emma is a doctor and most likely has gone to one of the hot spots where they need as many medics as they can get.’

  ‘Bring her home for me, Glenn, back to where she was happy until I told her some unmentionable things about me.’

  His lips had been blue, his eyes glazing even as the sound of an approaching ambulance could be heard screeching towards them, and his last words had been, ‘Promise you will?’

  ‘Yes, I promise,’ he’d told him gravely, and then his father’s friend had died.

  * * *

  Now, sitting sombrely in the attractive sitting room of the property he’d bought on the occasion of taking over the practice, Glenn was remembering the time and effort he’d put in to discover the whereabouts of the missing daughter. He was upset to think that he hadn’t tuned in to who she was outside the surgery the night before.

  Fortunately he’d made sure that the house that had been her home previously was warm and habitable a day early and had had food in the refrigerator. Then had gone the extra mile by suggesting that the folk from the practice make her welcome with an evening in one of Glenminster’s high spots.

  Now just one thing remained regarding his promise to her father, and when that was done maybe he would be able to have a life of his own once again. The task of locating Emma Chalmers had been mammoth.

  He would be there for her at her father’s funeral and once that ordeal was over he was going to step aside and let her get on with her life. The same way he intended to carry on with his own, which was empty of womankind and was going to stay that way.

  Drawing the curtains across to shut out the night, he went slowly up the spiral staircase that graced the hallway of his home and lay on top of the bedcovers, his last concern before sleep claimed him being the stranger that he had reluctantly taken under his wing.

  What was her story? he wondered. Had she been close to Jeremy and they’d rowed about something that had made her go off in a huff? From what he’d said in his dying moments, it had seemed that Jeremy had been the reason for Emma’s departure and whatever it had been he’d had cause to regret it.

  Since coming back to her roots she had never mentioned him, which was not a good omen, and what about the mother that she’d lost not so long before her hasty departure? What sort of a marriage had she and Jeremy had?

  CHAPTER TWO

  THERE WERE A few offers to see Emma home safely when the Barrington Bar closed at the stroke of midnight heralding the Sabbath, but Lydia forestalled them by saying, ‘I’m in my car, Emma, and haven’t been on the wine. Would you like a lift as I have to pass your place?’ And added to the rest, ‘That leaves two more empty places if anyone wants to join us.’

  The offer was immediately taken up by older members of staff, one of the practice nurses and a receptionist, both of whom lived just a short distance away, and when they were eventually alone in the car Lydia said, ‘So how has your first full day back in Glenminster felt?’

  ‘Very strange,’ Emma told her, ‘and unexpectedly pleasant. But that feeling isn’t going to last long when I start making the funeral arrangements for Jeremy. He wasn’t my father. Did you know that, Lydia?’

  ‘No, I didn’t!’ she gasped ‘How long have you been aware of it?’

  ‘Just as long as it took him to let me see how little I meant to him—which was immediately after he’d said he wanted me gone, out of the way.’

  The house was in sight and when Lydia stopped the car she said dejectedly, ‘And all of that was because he wanted to marry me? Surely he didn’t think I would allow him to hurt you so that he could have me. None of it brought him any joy, did it? Without even knowing about what he had said regarding him not being your father, I refused to go ahead with the wedding when he told me that he’d made it clear that you wouldn’t be welcome around the place once we were married. Sadly, by that time Emma, you’d gone and not a single person knew where you were.

  ‘Jeremy was with Glenn when he had the heart attack and made him promise to find you and bring you back to Glenminster to make up for all the hurt he’d caused you. So he did have a conscience of sorts, I suppose. Glenn, being the kind of guy who keeps his word, spent hours searching for you in every possible way until he finally located you. No doubt once the funeral is over he will be ready to get back to his own life, hoping that yours is sorted.’

  Shaken to the core by what she’d been told about the man she’d been going to marry, Lydia was about to drive off into the night when Emma asked, ‘Was it Dr Bartlett who saw to it that there was heating and food in the house?’

  ‘Yes,’ she was told. ‘Glenn mentioned that he was going to deal with those things and you almost arrived before he’d done so by appearing a day early. Now, one last thing before I go—have you enjoyed tonight, Emma?’

  ‘It was wonderful,’ she said, ‘and would have been even more so if I could have thanked Dr Bartlett for all he has done for me, but as I didn’t know about it I shall make up for my lack of appreciation in the morning.’

  * * *

  Glenn was having a late breakfast when he saw Emma appear on Sunday morning, and as he watched her walk purposefully along the drive he sighed. What now? he wondered. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer as once he had invited her inside she told him, ‘I’m here to say thank you for all that you’ve done for me, Dr Bartlett. I had no idea until Lydia explained on the way home last night that my father had put upon you the burden of finding me, and that it was you who had made my homecoming as comfortable as possible with food and warmth. It must have all been very time-consuming.’

  He was smiling, partly with relief because she wanted no more from him a
nd because she was so easily pleased with what he’d done for her. At the beginning Emma Chalmers had just been a lost soul that Jeremy had asked him to find so that he could die in the hope that he, Glenn, would bring her back to where she belonged. Difficult as the process had sometimes been, he’d had no regrets in having to keep the promise he’d made.

  Pointing to a comfortable chair by the fireside, he said, ‘It was in a good cause, Emma, and having now met you I realise just how worthy it was. Whatever it was that Jeremy had done to you it was clear that he regretted it. I could tell that it lay heavily on his conscience, and as my last involvement in your affairs, if you need any assistance with the funeral arrangements, you have only to ask.’

  She was smiling but there were tears on her lashes as she said, ‘I will try not to involve you if I can, but thanks for the offer.’

  As she rose from the chair, ready to depart, he said, ‘My parents will be at the funeral. They are a crazy pair but their hearts are in the right place and I love them dearly. It was my dad who told Jeremy that I was a doctor and had come to live in the village after leaving a practice up north. So that was how I came to be with him on the day he died.

  ‘Jeremy had been to see me and, having been told that I’d been doing a similar job to his in the place that I’d left, asked if I would be interested in replacing him at the practice in Glenminster as he was ready to retire. Once I’d seen it and been introduced to staff I was keen to take over, and that is how I come to be here.’

  ‘Going through the usual formalities with the health services and the rest took a while but I had no regrets, and now we have his daughter back with us, so hopefully he will rest in peace. You don’t resemble him at all, do you?’ he commented.

  He saw her flinch but her only comment gave nothing away.