than she. Thank heavens for Sylvia.
The coffee was jolly hot. She found the newspaper and carried it and her coffee into the sitting-room. Bliss! One peaceful morning all to herself. Though she loved general practice it was so draining, one always saw people when they were at their lowest ebb. Lowest ebb. The thought which had been pushing about in the back of her mind returned. She, a doctor, who’d said so many times as gently as she could ‘it would have been so much more sensible to have come to me as soon as you realised, wouldn’t it’ and here she was doing just that. Ignoring it. It was telling Peter which was going to be so difficult. That was what she dreaded. She could face it, but Peter wouldn’t be able to. She knew, even without his frequent affirmation of it, that without her he would be totally desolate. Love like his made hurting him horrifyingly easy.
Caroline picked up the newspaper and tried to concentrate, but every piece of news she read was full of doom and gloom. Was there nothing happening that was joyous? Apparently not. She laid the newspaper down again and tried to face up to her problem. Having been born with a badly deformed womb and now being more than sure that there was something insidious growing on her ovaries it seemed as though there would be nothing left in her to make her feel a woman. The phone rang.
‘Darling! Peter here! Look, I’ve got held up here in Culworth. Seeing as you’re having the day off why don’t you come in and have lunch with me? We don’t often get the chance do we?’
‘Sylvia isn’t back yet for a while.’
‘Never mind. She won’t be long, leave her a note and put the answer machine on till she gets back.’
‘Shall I?’
‘Yes, please!’
Caroline didn’t feel like being happy. She simply wanted to hide and to be left alone. But the pleasure in Peter’s voice! She really couldn’t deny him. A café in Culworth wasn’t Exactly the right place for telling one’s loved one about operations, so she could justifiably put off telling him.
‘You’re right! I’ll come! One o’clock at Abbey Close?’
‘Lovely!’
When she saw him coming, striding eagerly out of the Abbey Close towards her she wept inside. There was never going to be a right time to tell him. The smile of greeting on her face was genuine though. The very sight of him lifted her spirits. His vigour, his thick red-blond hair, the lovely glowing smile on his face which the sight of her had inspired. How could she break his heart?
‘Darling!’ Peter took hold of her elbows drew her close to him and kissed her full on the mouth. She kissed him back with a desperate fervour.
‘Peter! I don’t think rectors are supposed to kiss like that in public!’
‘Why not? I’m not a saint! And I am married to you! Where shall we go?’ He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and smiled down at her.
‘Not the George. Not at lunch time. They always take so long to serve.’
‘Well, then. How about the Belfry Restaurant? Right here.’
‘OK. The Belfry it is.’
The waitress suggested a table in the window, which someone had just vacated.
‘Well, as I’m playing hookey I might as well be seen by everybody from the abbey.’
‘No point in doing things by halves is there?’ Caroline gave him her coat and he hung it up for her beside his cloak. She’d bought him the silver clasp for it when they’d first got married. He needed a new cloak now. She’d buy him one as a surprise, measure this one with her dressmaking tape. The cloak would have to be specially made because of his height.
‘Miles away? I asked what you would like?’
‘Sorry, darling.’ Caroline looked at the menu and all she could see was lasagne. ‘I’ll have lasagne.’
‘Are you sure? My treat?’
‘Absolutely. Thanks. Just coffee. I won’t have wine with driving straight back.’
‘No, of course not. I think I’ll have the steak and all the trimmings.’
‘Good, you need something
The coffee was jolly hot. She found the newspaper and carried it and her coffee into the sitting-room. Bliss! One peaceful morning all to herself. Though she loved general practice it was so draining, one always saw people when they were at their lowest ebb. Lowest ebb. The thought which had been pushing about in the back of her mind returned. She, a doctor, who’d said so many times as gently as she could ‘it would have been so much more sensible to have come to me as soon as you realised, wouldn’t it’ and here she was doing just that. Ignoring it. It was telling Peter which was going to be so difficult. That was what she dreaded. She could face it, but Peter wouldn’t be able to. She knew, even without his frequent affirmation of it, that without her he would be totally desolate. Love like his made hurting him horrifyingly easy.
Caroline picked up the newspaper and tried to concentrate, but every piece of news she read was full of doom and gloom. Was there nothing happening that was joyous? Apparently not. She laid the newspaper down again and tried to face up to her problem. Having been born with a badly deformed womb and now being more than sure that there was something insidious growing on her ovaries it seemed as though there would be nothing left in her to make her feel a woman. The phone rang.
‘Darling! Peter here! Look, I’ve got held up here in Culworth. Seeing as you’re having the day off why don’t you come in and have lunch with me? We don’t often get the chance do we?’
‘Sylvia isn’t back yet for a while.’
‘Never mind. She won’t be long, leave her a note and put the answer machine on till she gets back.’
‘Shall I?’
‘Yes, please!’
Caroline didn’t feel like being happy. She simply wanted to hide and to be left alone. But the pleasure in Peter’s voice! She really couldn’t deny him. A café in Culworth wasn’t Exactly the right place for telling one’s loved one about operations, so she could justifiably put off telling him.
‘You’re right! I’ll come! One o’clock at Abbey Close?’
‘Lovely!’
When she saw him coming, striding eagerly out of the Abbey Close towards her she wept inside. There was never going to be a right time to tell him. The smile of greeting on her face was genuine though. The very sight of him lifted her spirits. His vigour, his thick red-blond hair, the lovely glowing smile on his face which the sight of her had inspired. How could she break his heart?
‘Darling!’ Peter took hold of her elbows drew her close to him and kissed her full on the mouth. She kissed him back with a desperate fervour.
‘Peter! I don’t think rectors are supposed to kiss like that in public!’
‘Why not? I’m not a saint! And I am married to you! Where shall we go?’ He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and smiled down at her.
‘Not the George. Not at lunch time. They always take so long to serve.’
‘Well, then. How about the Belfry Restaurant? Right here.’
‘OK. The Belfry it is.’
The waitress suggested a table in the window, which someone had just vacated.
‘Well, as I’m playing hookey I might as well be seen by everybody from the abbey.’
‘No point in doing things by halves is there?’ Caroline gave him her coat and he hung it up for her beside his cloak. She’d bought him the silver clasp for it when they’d first got married. He needed a new cloak now. She’d buy him one as a surprise, measure this one with her dressmaking tape. The cloak would have to be specially made because of his height.
‘Miles away? I asked what you would like?’
‘Sorry, darling.’ Caroline looked at the menu and all she could see was lasagne. ‘I’ll have lasagne.’
‘Are you sure? My treat?’
‘Absolutely. Thanks. Just coffee. I won’t have wine with driving straight back.’
‘No, of course not. I think I’ll have the steak and all the trimmings.’
‘Good, you need something
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