most important of all—what about Lucy herself? How on earth could she even begin to try and explain to such a young girl the torturous events of the past...?
‘Oh, do stop day-dreaming, Mummy. Please hurry up!’ Lucy pleaded, almost dancing with impatience.
‘Just give me five minutes to change, and I’ll be right with you,’ Amber promised, sighing heavily as she picked up the basket full of vegetables before slowly following her daughter back down the garden path.
CHAPTER THREE
‘DON’T panic—there are still ten shopping days to go before Christmas!’
Momentarily unnerved by the words being hoarsely whispered in her ear, Amber gave a startled yelp, nearly dropping her heavy load of parcels as she spun around to find herself staring up into the twinkling brown eyes of Philip Jackson.
‘For Heaven’s sake!’ she gasped as the young doctor swiftly removed the packages from her arms. ‘It’s bad enough having to fight one’s way through the crowds without you scaring me half to death!’
‘I didn’t mean to give you a fright,’ he grinned. ‘But why does everyone seem to be gripped by a “shop till you drop” frenzy at this time of year?’
‘I don’t know. It’s crazy, isn’t it?’ she agreed as they walked slowly up the street. ‘So, just what are you doing here, in the middle of town on a Friday morning?’ she teased. ‘Surely a busy doctor ought to be in his surgery looking after the sick and infirm.’
‘I’ve taken the morning off for some last-minute shopping,’ he confessed with a rueful grin, before insisting on leading her into the Market Tavern for a mug of their famous ‘Winter Warmer’—hot chocolate with a dash of brandy. ‘It will do you good, and you’ll still be quite sober enough to drive home,’ he assured her when she expressed her doubts about the wisdom of drinking in the middle of the day. ‘On the other hand—how about joining me for lunch in one of the local restaurants?’
Amber shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Philip. I can’t make it today. Mother’s in bed with a heavy cold, and I must get back to keep an eye on her.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. Although I have to say that you don’t look too well, either,’ the doctor added, glancing with concern at her pale, finely drawn features and the dark shadows beneath her eyes.
‘I’m all right,’ she shrugged, perfectly well aware—from a despairing glance in her mirror this morning—that she was looking like death warmed up. Just as she knew that part of her present exhausted state of mind wasn’t just the worry about Max’s return. She was also becoming deeply disturbed about her mother.
Amber had finally been forced to explain to her mother the necessity of selling their home, and Violet Grant’s reaction had been every bit as bad as she had feared. Amber still shuddered to recall the wild, hysterical accusations and virtual collapse of the older woman. It was well over a week since her mother had taken to her bed, claiming that she had a bad cold and refusing to leave her room—an action that was now causing her daughter grave concern.
Unfortunately, it was all too reminiscent of Violet’s behaviour eight years ago, following the scandal and collapse of her husband’s business. And so, while she was trying hard not to overreact to the situation, Amber knew that if her mother continued to avoid facing up to life by hiding in her bedroom, she was going to have to seek some serious medical advice.
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