Someone called across to her. She waved but didn’t linger and carried on walking past the surgery towards The Old Chart House, which had been empty the last time she’d seen it.
A guy was cutting the lawns at the front of it with a powerful machine and even with his back to her she recognised the stance of him as the surfer she’d met that afternoon.
As the memory was taking shape he swung the mower round to face the front and it was as before, a meeting of glances.
‘Hello, there,’ he said. ‘We met earlier on the beach, if I’m not mistaken.’
‘Yes,’ she replied, and having no wish to give the impression that she’d seen it as a memorable occasion commented, ‘I’m surprised to find this place occupied. It has been empty for a long time.’
‘So I believe,’ he replied, resting his arms on the handle of the mower. ‘I rented it originally, but when I decided to stick around I wanted living in Bluebell Cove to be a more permanent thing, and have heard only today that my purchase of the property has gone through.’
‘Wow!’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s a lovely house. Congratulations!’
‘What for?’ he asked dryly. ‘Buying a house that is far too big for me?’
‘So you live alone?’
‘Yes, where do you live?’ As if he didn’t know.
‘With my parents at the moment in the house on the headland called Four Winds.’
So he was right, Lucas was thinking. This was the Balfour girl, having changed the bikini for a blue cotton sundress that matched her eyes.
There might have been a time when he would have warmed to her attractions but after Philippa the mighty ocean not far away would freeze over before he made that mistake again. From what he’d heard this one had an eye to the main chance too, leaving her mother in the state she’d been in when he’d made the acquaintance of the staff at The Tides practice.
He had no family and envied those who had in whatever shape or form. His father had died while he’d been at medical school fifteen years ago, and as an only child he’d been very protective of his mother until she too had succumbed to inoperable cancer.
Philippa Carswell had been his second in command on the cardiology unit at Hunters Hill Hospital, with hair the colour of fire and the passion to go with it. He’d been in love with her and had believed she’d returned his feelings.
As well as being physically attracted to her, he’d admired her determination to get to the top of her profession, until he’d discovered that she had intended him to be a casualty on the way.
But she’d reckoned without friendship. He’d always had a good relationship with fifty-year-old Robert Dawson, head of the hospital trust at Hunters Hill, and one night when the two men had met up for a meal, which they did occasionally, his friend had warned Lucas that Philippa wanted his job and had told him that she would do anything to get it.
He might have doubted the truth of it coming from anyone else, but not from Robert, who was the soul of integrity. When he’d challenged her about it she’d laughed in his face and commented that all was fair in love and war.
It had been war all right from that moment on, and realising she’d gone a step too far she’d packed her bags and gone to work in America, leaving him with a jaundiced view of the opposite sex, beautiful ones in particular.
Discovering that he’d been just a rung on the ladder of her ambition had been the first life-shattering thing to happen to him, but the next had been far worse and he was always going to carry the scar from the stab wound he’d received that day.
It was one of the hazards of being a doctor, one he could have done without, but he’d forgiven the culprit and was trying to get on with his life in the slower, less fraught kind of way that Ethan had described by holding a twice-weekly heart clinic at the practice where the other man was in charge. He was also intending to open up a private consultancy shortly, in the house that was now his.
It was all very different from the life he’d envisaged for himself. With Philippa gone and the cut and thrust of the cardiac unit at the hospital no longer at his elbow all the time, whether he was going to be happy in it remained to be seen, but no doubt, as it always did, time would tell.
While his thoughts had been somewhere else Jenna had been observing him warily, keen to know who he was but not about to ask. She sensed something in his manner and as she’d never met him before until today it was strange. Her curiosity was increasing by the second.
It was not to be satisfied, however. He wasn’t quite as aloof as when they’d met on the beach, but no name or any other item of information was forthcoming from him. Only one thing was sure, he’d bought The Old Chart House so she would be seeing him around and that was a thought not to be treated lightly.
‘Bye for now,’ she said breezily into the silence that had fallen between them. ‘I hope you’ll be happy in your new home.’
‘Thanks,’ he replied, taken aback at receiving good wishes from a stranger, and as if he had to justify himself for some reason he went on, ‘I’m not sure about that, but I do admit that I’ve fallen in love with this place, the house, the beach, and the green fields of Devon stretching as far as the eye can see.’ His voice hardened. ‘Those kinds of things don’t change.’
‘Er, no,’ she agreed, not sure what to make of that, and turning to go back the way she’d come, she left him with a casual wave of the hand.
When she’d gone he stood without moving, staring grimly into space. What on earth had possessed him to start chatting to her? If she was out to scrape an acquaintance she’d chosen the wrong man. He might have been a fool once, but twice? Never!
When she awoke early the next morning Jenna could already hear the laughter of children down below and the deeper tones of parents, signalling that the tide was out. Further along on the headland someone had lit a fire and she could smell bacon cooking.
If only her mother was in better health she would be content, she thought as she watched them from her window. Their reunion had been less stressful than she’d expected and if she would let her help instead of hanging so tightly onto her independence she, Jenna, could combine a part-time job somewhere with looking after her.
As she was clearing away after breakfast she heard a familiar voice on the terrace where her parents were sitting in the sun, and when she went outside Ethan Lomax observed her in surprise.
‘Jenna!’ he exclaimed. ‘Have you come back to us, or is it just a visit?’
‘I’m back,’ she told him, smiling her pleasure at the sight of the good-natured doctor who had taken her mother’s place. ‘I haven’t discussed it with Mum and Dad yet as I only arrived yesterday, but I would like to combine looking after her with some sort of part-time nursing somewhere.’
‘I can manage…’ her mother started to protest.
Ignoring the protest, Ethan was smiling and saying, ‘You need look no further if you want a job. We need a part-time practice nurse to help with morning surgery, and for a couple of afternoons to assist Lucas in the cardiology clinic.’
‘Lucas! Cardiology clinic!’ she exclaimed. ‘Who might he be? And how long has the surgery been able to offer that kind of thing?’
‘Since a friend of mine needed a change of scene,’ he said with a smile. ‘So are you interested?’
‘Of course I am!’ she hooted, ‘just as long as Mum and Dad agree.’
‘You already know my views regarding you joining the practice,’ her mother said.
Her father commented gently, ‘It’s all right by me, but I don’t want you to feel