Chapter Twenty Two

I t was the look on Cordelia’s face that really told her just how insensitive she’d been. In that second she realized that she’d just blurted out the news barely half an hour after Toby leaving. And leaving was something that Cordelia didn’t handle well. In fact, leaving was the worst thing that had ever happened to Cordelia.

“Well… good for you,” Cordelia said, sliding behind her desk and switching her computer on.

Or maybe leaving was the worst thing that could happen to Cordelia except when it came to Lydia. Because Cordelia had wanted her to leave, hadn’t she?

“I, uh, I can get started next week,” Lydia said.

“Good,” said Cordelia. “And you’ve got a patient coming in in ten minutes. Everything set up and ready?”

Lydia bit her lip and nodded. Maybe this was no bad thing. Maybe the timing was pretty perfect actually. Now they had no Toby to look after and there was no reason for her to be staying with Cordelia and no reason, really, to be staying in Whitebridge.

She went back to her office.

This was the job she wanted. Well, almost. The job from a couple of weeks ago in the fancy clinic, the one where she’d been eliminated because she wasn’t family oriented enough, the one in Waymouth, that had been the real one. But this one in Castor was a close second. Very close.

She’d worked years for this. Literally. Everything had been building to this. Now it was all within her grasp and… and what?

Lydia sat behind her desk.

She’d thought she’d be more… excited maybe?

The morning got busy and she dealt with the usual parade of sniffles, sore throats and wound dressings. Then, just before lunch, she got a very special visitor.

“Got a minute?” Cordelia said, poking her head around the door.

Lydia looked down at the pile of notes she needed to input into the system and thought miserably about the sandwich she’d been about to go and buy from the cafe, then smiled and nodded. All part of the service, part of being a village doctor, she supposed.

Cordelia held the door open and in walked someone who looked somewhat familiar. But Lydia couldn’t quite put her finger on why. The woman was large, round, her smile was slightly lopsided still, and she had a stick in one hand.

But she was walking under her own power and she was, very definitely, smiling.

And then, so was Lydia. “Sit down, sit down.”

“I’m still a bit shaky on my feet, doc,” Sylv said, maneuvering herself into a chair. “But they said at the hospital that the more exercise I do, the better I’ll get. And anyway, I needed to come by here, didn’t I?”

Lydia frowned and typed something into the computer. “Actually, no, not really. The hospital have sent all your notes down, so we’ve got everything we need.”

The large woman raised an eyebrow. “Not what I’m talking about, doc.”

Lydia turned back to her in surprise. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. Do you have other issues you’d like to talk about?” It was easy, when a patient had had a serious diagnosis, to become buried under that and to forget that other things might be going on .

Sylv grinned again, and it was almost straight this time. “No, doc. No other issues. I’m talking about coming to say thank you.”

A warm blush spread over Lydia’s face. “There’s nothing to thank me for, I was just doing my job.”

“And you’re good at it, from what I hear,” Sylv said. “The talk around town is that you’re not just a pretty face. Young Magda’s going on about how you helped save her baby, and Max Browning is telling everyone that’ll listen that you’re practically a saint. And then there’s me. Not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t been around.”

“The ambulance was minutes away,” Lydia said.

“Mmm, except every minute counts, doesn’t it. That’s what they say on the stroke ward.”

Lydia didn’t say anything to this because she didn’t want to scare the woman. Sylv had had enough scares, she suspected.

“Anyway, that’s what I came to say, thank you. I’m a lucky woman that you were around. And we’re lucky to have such a nice young doctor. At least for the time being.” Sylv paused for a second, cocked her head. “Unless you were thinking about staying?”

Lydia felt herself flush again. “I, uh, I mean…”

“Oh don’t be like that,” said Sylv. “Doc Morris has been on his last legs for a while now. Mind you, he used to be fun when he was younger. Got up to a bit of no good did the doc and I when we were both a lot thinner. But I’m no fool. Something tells me that there’ll be an opening around here soon and you know the lay of the land, so to speak. So you could be the perfect candidate.”

Lydia cleared her throat. “Yes, well…”

“Except, a nice young doctor like you, you’re looking for something a bit more upmarket, I suppose. One of those fancy clinics?”

This conversation was very much out of Lydia’s control and she wasn’t sure how to get it back. “I, um…”

“You know, there’s something I’ve learned, if you don’t mind an old woman sharing something with you,” said Sylv, shuffling forward in her seat. “And that’s that the best laid plans don’t always… go to plan. And the things you think are important when you’re young aren’t always what’s actually important at all.”

“I’m not that young,” Lydia said, finally managing to get a full sentence out.

Sylv laughed. “You look young to me, love. And I remember being just like you, full of vim and vigor and wanting to take on the world. You know, Jim Hawthorne and I had plans to run away together. He was going to take me up to London, he was.”

“What happened?” Lydia asked curiously.

“Never showed up, did he?” cackled Sylv. “Then I met my husband, so, you know, it was probably for the best. Not the plan, but the way things turned out wasn’t so bad.” She pushed herself into a standing position. “I’ll get out of your hair then, doc.”

“Just you let me know if there’s anything you need,” said Lydia.

“One of the pleasures of living in a small town,” Sylv said. “You get to know everyone, and everyone knows you. I can’t move for casseroles in the freezer and my shop’s been open every day I’ve been in that hospital. Whitebridge might not be exciting, but it’s a nice place. You could do worse.”

Lydia, determined not to discuss her career prospects with patients, got up and opened the door for her. “Come back any time you like.”

“Even if you’re not here?” grinned Sylv. “And thanks again, doc. I can’t say it enough.”

She was just steering her bulk through the corridor when Cordelia appeared, face white, phone in her hand. “Lydia?”

Sylv popped out into the waiting room and Lydia came behind her. “What is it?” she asked, preparing herself mentally to grab her bag and run. “An accident?”

“No,” Cordelia said. “No, nothing like that. It’s, well, it’s Magda.” She nodded to the phone she was holding. “She’s not feeling the best and—”

“Tell her I’ll be right with her,” Lydia said, turning to go back to get her bag. “Print me some directions to her house and tell her to lie on the couch and put her feet up until I can get there.”

SHE KNEW THAT she should hurry back to the surgery, that there were probably patients waiting. But Cordelia could handle that for the minute. And it wasn’t like she was dawdling, just not hurrying, that was all. The warm sun on her shoulders, the easy breathing of a relaxed doctor.

Magda had been pale and worried, but perfectly fine. Braxton Hicks contractions were perfectly normal at her stage of pregnancy, and Lydia told her to rest up and prepare for the baby. It had been a nice interlude in her day.

A day that should be turning out to be a good one. She’d finally got a job, a real, permanent one. Her stroke victim had been recovered enough to come and thank her in person. Her unusual pregnancy patient was doing nicely even if she was getting a little anxious about the birth. Even the sun was shining.

But all was not right with Lydia’s world. And she couldn’t quite see why or what she could do about it. At heart she knew that Cordelia was buried in there somewhere. Her feelings for Cordelia, the ones she was trying very hard to bury away and ignore.

Yet Cordelia had congratulated her, had wanted her gone, so why was she still feeling like there was unfinished business here? Why did she feel like she was torn between having what she wanted and had planned for, and having what apparently Cordelia didn’t want her to have?

She turned the corner toward the surgery, remembering just a couple of weeks ago turning the same corner and running into a tall, blonde woman with messy hair. And then she remembered kissing that tall, blonde woman with messy hair.

And there were feelings there, she couldn’t deny it. Except Cordelia wanted her gone and was fragile anyway and… and none of this was part of the plan.

She sighed as she walked into the oddly empty waiting room. There wasn’t a soul in sight .

“Cordelia?”

It was a pleasant little practice, with the sun shining through the big windows like that.

“Cordelia?”

But not a place she should stay. Too small. Too provincial.

“Cordelia?”

“Back here,” came the answer finally.

When Lydia followed the voice to her own office, she found Cordelia sitting behind the doctor’s desk, the bottom left drawer open, and a serene look on her face.

“What are you doing in here?” Lydia asked.

“I think we need to talk, don’t you?” said Cordelia.