her warning to keep away from the edge, running towards the swollen river.
It had all happened in a matter of seconds and as she’d flung herself down the slope after him and shrieked for him to stop, he hadn’t heard her above the noise of the fast-flowing water.
She’d nearly lost her life trying to save their son and when she’d been dragged half-dead from the river to discover that she was going to have to carry on living without him, she’d wished that she’d died, too.
Ben gazed at the letter in his hand. Each time Nicholas had visited since that August afternoon, he had asked him where he could find Georgina, but he’d reluctantly refused to tell, explaining that she’d made him promise never to pass on that information.
It hadn’t been hard to believe when Ben recalled how she’d never come near the house apart from that one time when he’d found her at Jamie’s grave. Whenever he’d seen fresh white roses on it he’d known that she’d been just a stone’s throw away from the home they’d shared together, and the despair that had become more of a dull ache than the raw wound it had been during those first awful months would wash over him.
He’d thought bleakly that what had happened between them on the day he’d caught her unawares in the cemetery hadn’t seemed to have made Georgina relent at all, and if Nicholas wasn’t prepared to break his word to her, it was going to be stalemate.
On his last night in London his young brother had asked, ‘Why are you so keen to find Georgina afer all this time?’ And because there had been no way he was going to tell him what had happened, Ben had fobbed him off by telling him that some insurance in both their names had matured.
That had been in early January, and when Nicholas had flown back home Ben had gone to work in Scandinavia for a short while. He’d always been somewhat of a workaholic, even before their marriage had broken up, getting a lot of satisfaction out of helping sick children and being able to give Georgina and Jamie some of the good things in life at the same time.
When their life together had foundered after losing their son he’d immersed himself in his work more and more, and had spent less and less time at home. Without Jamie it wasn’t a home any more.
When Georgina had asked for a divorce he’d agreed, because he’d felt their life together was over. They’d had no comfort to offer each other—he, because of the terrible bitterness inside him, and she because she felt responsible for what had happened.
But that day in August he’d discovered that their feelings weren’t dead. There was still a spark there. It had been sweet anguish making love to the only woman he’d ever wanted, and he wasn’t going to rest until he saw her again.
He’d gone to Scandinavia with less than his usual enthusiasm, because he was frustrated and miserable to think that she’d come back into his life and given him hope and then disappeared into the unknown once more.
Now he was home again, and amongst the mail that had accumulated during his absence was the envelope with Georgina’s handwriting on it. With heartbeat quickening, he opened the letter.
The brief communication inside said that she needed to talk to him as soon as possible, and it went on to say that she would come to London if he wished. No way, he thought. He’d waited a long time to find out where she’d gone, and now the opportunity was here.
She hadn’t used the word urgent, but there was something about the wording of the letter that conveyed it to him, and as the postmark on it was from weeks ago he immediately began planning how quickly he could get to this Willowmere place in Cheshire.
Ben was freelance, and not attached to any particular hospital, so there were no arrangements to make at his end. After a quick snack, and a phone call to arrange overnight accommodation at a place in Willowmere called the Pheasant, he was ready for the off, warning the landlord that he would be arriving in the early hours.
As she did on most evenings when she’d eaten, Georgina set off for a short stroll beside the river. A heron, king of the birdlife, familiar to all the village folk, was perched motionless on its favourite stone in the middle of the water when she got there, and she remembered how when she’d first moved to Willowmere she’d had to steel herself to look at the Goyt as it skipped along its stony bed.
As the last rays of the sun turned the skyline to gold she felt the child inside her move and wondered if it was going to be a son to follow the one they’d lost or a baby girl with the same dark hair and eyes as her parents.
She knew that under normal circumstances Ben would be over the moon at the thought of another child, but normal would have been as a brother or sister for Jamie and he was no longer with them.
They’d created a new life in those moments of wild abandon and it should be a source of joy for them both, but as it stood now he knew nothing about it.
She saw that the lights were on in the surgery as she walked back to the cottage and brought her thoughts back to the situation there. Would James find suitable replacements tonight for Anna and Glenn?
After a bath and a hot drink, she was tucked up in bed half an hour later and thinking drowsily that for half the population the night would only just be beginning, but tomorrow would be another busy day for her and James.
She awoke in the early hours to the noise of a car pulling up on the quiet lane below, but didn’t get up to investigate. Instead she snuggled lower under the bed-covers with her eyes closed. The doors were locked, the burglar alarm on. Whoever it might be, she was too sleepy to check them out.
As he’d driven through the Cheshire countryside, Ben had thought wryly that Georgina had certainly intended to put some distance between them by coming here, and she’d also chosen a beautiful place to come to.
He’d seen a lake glinting through trees in the light of a full moon as he’d approached the village, and as he’d drawn nearer had seen that the main street was made up of cottages built from limestone next to quaint shops that made the present-day supermarket seem an uninteresting place by comparison.
He’d arrived earlier than expected, and had stopped briefly outside Georgina’s cottage on a lane at the end of the village after receiving directions from an elderly man.
The curtains were drawn, for which he’d been thankful, as it was hardly the hour to be calling. After choking back the overwhelming feeling of regret for all the wasted years they’d spent, he’d driven off into the night to find his accommodation.
Knowing as he did so that ever since he’d found Georgina in the cemetery and persuaded her to go back to the house, then made love to her like some madman, he’d been aching to see her again. Desperate to tell her how he regretted the way he’d behaved when they’d lost Jamie.
He’d been like someone demented and had vented his desolation on to her, as if she hadn’t been suffering, too. If he’d been in charge, the tragedy would never have happened, he’d told her at times when he’d been at his lowest ebb, and it had been as if the love they’d shared had also died.
It hadn’t been until in bitter despair she’d asked for a divorce and left because she’d been unable to stand it any more that he’d faced up to what he’d done to her.
He’d given her the divorce, couldn’t for shame not to after the way he’d behaved, and ever since then had longed to have her back in his life. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was for forsaking her
