Page 22 of Lessons in Love at the Cornish Country Hospital

It was about five minutes past four when she looked up and saw him walking along the beach towards the mouth of the cave where she was waiting, sitting on a rock. It had been their hideout when they’d dated the first time around. Ocean Cove was in Port Agnes, far enough away from their homes in the neighbouring village, but still easy enough to get to whenever they wanted to escape. It was somewhere they could go to kiss, and talk, and kiss some more, where no one would rap their knuckles against the door, or worse still, fling it open to check whether the two of them were up to no good. She understoodnow why their parents had done it, but back then she’d just wanted time on her own with him.

They’d gone on lots of dates in the two years they’d been together as teenagers, simple things like the cinema, or to the travelling funfair that pitched up on the old common grazing ground in Port Tremellien twice a year. But the cave had still been the place she’d most loved being with Gary. They’d set out a little picnic blanket, pretending they were in their own apartment somewhere and talking about how they’d do it for real one day, when they were both grown up and earning good money. Except Wendy’s father had been made redundant and had taken a job in Birmingham, which had been the start of all those plans for the future unravelling. The whole family had followed him a year later, and it had broken Wendy’s heart. She’d begged to be allowed to stay, and she and Gary had hatched every plot they could come up with to make it work. But they were barely sixteen and they didn’t have enough money for a deposit on a shoebox, never mind a flat.

They’d written at first, in the days before mobile phones and emails, never mind social media. But when she hadn’t got a reply to two letters in a row, and her friends at the new college she went to had spelled out what that meant, she’d given herself a good talking to and had vowed never to write to Gary again. What she hadn’t known then was that he’d been in hospital with a burst appendix. By the time he’d recovered and written back to her, she’d decided it was too late. Her friends had told her not to be the sort of girl who waited around until someone found the time for her. So when the letters with his distinctive handwriting began to arrive, she’d thrown them straight in the bin, without even reading them. She’d known if she looked at them the temptation to reply would be too much, and she didn’t want to let her new friends down. Eventually he’d given up too, and even when Wendy and her family returned to the Three Ports area afew years later, they didn’t speak. She heard from mutual friends that he was engaged to Rachel, and not long afterwards she’d met Mike.

It was only when Gary had reached out on Facebook, more than three decades after the last letter they’d exchanged, that it became obvious how easy it would have been to avoid so much heartbreak. All she’d needed to do back then was be honest, to ignore what her friends had said about needing to be ‘cool’. It was so ironic when she thought about how little notice she’d taken of that advice once she’d met Mike, and all the things she’d put up with from him. She should never have been persuaded into ignoring Gary’s letters. She should have reached out to him, to tell him how she really felt, and that she wanted him in her life no matter what, even if she had to take the risk of getting hurt. But she wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice; it was time to be completely honest. Except it was Gary who spoke first in the end.

‘I’m sorry I’ve been a pig-headed idiot all day and not answered your texts. I just needed a bit of time to think, but I should have let you know instead of giving you the silent treatment.’

‘I deserved it.’

‘No, you didn’t.’ He reached for her hand as he drew level with her. ‘We’re not fourteen any more, but I acted like a spoilt kid yesterday. It just gets under my skin when I realise Mike still has the power to hurt you. He was never good enough for you, and I wish you could see that.’

‘I do; there’s only one person who’s ever been good enough for me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I just have to hope I’m good enough for him.’

‘And who exactly is this lucky man?’ He was smiling now, and she finally felt her shoulders relax a bit.

‘He’s standing in front of me.’ She moved to the side slightly, so he could see into the entrance to the cave. ‘I thought you might like to join me for a picnic for old times’ sake.’

‘Oh my God, is that what I think it is?’ Gary laughed as he spotted the spread she’d laid out on the picnic blanket behind her. There was a plate of French Fancies, a big bowl of cheesy Wotsits, some cocktail sausages, and a bottle of Tizer. All of which the two of them had thought were the height of sophistication back when they were fourteen. As she nodded, he spun her around and kissed her, before pulling away again, still laughing. ‘This is brilliant! Why didn’t I think of this?’

‘Because it was my turn to try and show you how special you are to me; you do that for me every day. And if a French Fancy washed down by some Tizer can’t seduce you, I don’t know what will.’

‘All you have to do is look at me. Exactly like you did back then.’ When he kissed her again, for a moment it really was like the hands of time had been wound back all those years, only it was better now. He’d been a good kisser even then, but he’d definitely perfected his technique over the years, and she appreciated everything about him more this time, because she’d already lost him once.

‘Come on, we haven’t got long before the tide turns, and you risk having to watch your French Fancies float away. There’s something else I need to show you too. Something I found at my mum and dad’s place.’ She grabbed him by the hand, pulling him into the entrance of the cave. It was more of hollow really, just deep enough to fit the spread-out picnic blanket and to partially obscure them from view.

‘If it’s an artic roll, I think I must have died and gone to heaven.’ He laughed again and she joined in, even though nerves were beginning to flutter in her chest. It had been a running joke back then, whenever her parents had invited Gary round to tea,that they needed to stockpile the artic rolls, because it had been his favourite dessert and no amount of it was too much. She just hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed when it didn’t turn out to be that.

By the time they were sitting side by side on the blanket, her heartbeat was thudding in her ears. She was about to give Gary something she’d found in a drawer, under the divan bed in her childhood room. The scrap book had survived a lot: the four years they’d spent in the Midlands, while the family home had been rented out, and even half a day in a bin in Birmingham, where she’d thrown it when she’d made the vow never to write to Gary again. But something had made her retrieve it, and when it hadn’t been ruined, it had seemed like a sign. She’d told herself she was keeping it so that the grown-up version of her could one day look back at the memories it contained, and smile at the innocence of the young girl who’d written it. By then she’d be incredibly successful, of course, and even more sophisticated than a French Fancy. She’d probably be married to Simon Le Bon, or George Michael, and they’d laugh together at her childhood romance with a boy named Gary, who she could hardly remember. Except he’d never faded from her memory, and deep down she must have known her decision to keep the scrapbook was because she couldn’t bear to part with it. Either way, she was just glad that she hadn’t. Pulling it out of the large canvas bag she’d hidden it in, she let go of another long breath.

‘I want you to have a look at this. It’s where I kept every photo, every cinema ticket stub, the cards you sent me, and the letters I got from you when I was first in Birmingham. All the pages are headed up.’ Her hand was shaking as she handed it to him.

‘Oh Wend, this is amazing.’ A smile lit up Gary’s whole face as he turned over the first couple of pages, laughing at a photograph on the page labelled up ‘Beach Days’. ‘Although I’mlucky you ever agreed to go out with me, when I had hair like that.’

‘You were the best-looking boy in Port Kara; you still are.’ She rested her head on his shoulder, smiling as she watched him reliving old memories every time he turned a page. When he got to the first of the letters he’d sent her in Birmingham, which was stuck onto one of the pages, he started to read it, but she reached out and touched his arm.

‘You can read them all later, but we’ll run out of time if you read them now. I want you to skip past the letters to the next part.’ Gary looked at her quizzically for a moment, before doing as she asked, stopping when he came to a flyer for the restaurant where they’d had their second ‘first date’, stuck onto a page labelledSecond Time Around. It turned out old habits died hard; she’d rifled through the memory box she’d been keeping ever since their reunion, finding things to add to the scrapbook once she’d retrieved it from her parents’ house, but it was the first empty page she really wanted him to see.

‘Just flick a few more pages further on.’ She was holding her breath as she watched him do as she asked, and she didn’t breathe out even when he turned to the page where she’d written the last label: Our Wedding.

‘Does this mean—’ She kissed him before he could finish the sentence, following her sister’s advice and showing him in the best way she could think of how much he meant to her, because she knew she’d start crying if she tried to speak. When she pulled away, she finally found her voice.

‘It means I want to marry you, even more than I did when I started that scrapbook. I love you, I always have and I always will. So, if it’s not too late, I want to say an unreserved yes to the question you asked me when you had your accident, and to thank you for coming back into my life and making me happier than I’ve ever been.’

‘I can’t imagine anything better than being your husband, but what’s happened since yesterday? You seem like a different person.’

‘I decided to go paragliding dressed as a flying squirrel.’ She couldn’t help laughing at the look that crossed his face. She’d explain it to him later, but all he needed to know for now was that she loved him in a way that she’d never loved anyone else, and there wasn’t a single thing that could happen that would ever change that. She’d never felt so certain, so secure, or so loved in return. It might not be the neat little image she’d had in her mind of how things would turn out, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. And she’d rather let the tide come in to carry her away, than ever risk losing Gary again.

14

One of Danni’s responsibilities as a consultant in the emergency room was to mentor new team members and the appointment of Eve Bellingham had been a welcome relief. Having a new doctor on the team was much needed, especially with Danni being restricted to lighter duties, and the impending start of her maternity leave. Eve was only thirty, but had specialised in emergency medicine since completing her training, which meant she was already a senior doctor and Danni couldn’t imagine needing to provide much in the way of mentoring, other than around the specifics of how St Piran’s operated its emergency department. She’d met Eve when she came in to be interviewed, and Danni had been asked to give her a tour around the department. Eve had been easy to talk to and someone Danni had felt would fit in with the team, so it had been welcome news to hear she was joining them.

Eve’s first day on the team passed quickly. It was a typically busy day in A&E, without much time to stop and chat, but Danni had checked in on her whenever she could, and it was almost as if she’d always been there. She worked quickly and without fuss, not missing a beat when a four-year-old who’dcome in with a high temperature and listlessness, suddenly projectile vomited all over her. She’d changed into clean scrubs and got straight back into it, diagnosing the little girl with a nasty case of norovirus and making sure that protocols were followed to minimise the risk of the infection spreading within the department.

‘She’s going to be a real asset to the team.’ That’s what Danni’s verdict had been, when Dr Moorhouse, the department clinical lead, had asked for an update on Eve’s progress. Admittedly there hadn’t been any major incidents or life and death admissions during her first shift, but Danni had no reason to believe that Eve wouldn’t be able to handle those with every bit as much ease as she had the day-to-day stuff.

Eve’s second shift started off slowly. It was unusually quiet but, like Danni, she was experienced enough to know you never commented on that, unless you wanted a sudden deluge of patients. The waiting room was less than half full, which was a relief to Danni as there’d been times lately when it was standing-room only. The rural position of the hospital and the size of the population it served, meant they hadn’t yet had an occasion when they’d had patients waiting on trolleys in the corridor, but she’d seen plenty of that when she’d worked in London and she often got messages from her former colleagues talking about how it had become even more difficult. So, the chance to finally catch up with Eve to find out a little bit more about her, and begin to develop a working relationship they could build on, was one that Danni didn’t want to miss.

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