To Have and to Hold

When Belinda walked into The Bluebell Inn on a fresh, spring morning, she was greeted by a handful of the regulars nodding and smiling courteously.

“Had a good run, has she?” Bert inquired, reaching down from his bar-stool to pet Rusty, Belinda’s springer spaniel.

Rusty’s tongue lolled out of the side of her mouth as she sat panting and accepting Bert’s rough pats and strokes happily, closing her big brown eyes in blissful appreciation.

“Yes, we walked over the top today. It was beautiful,” Belinda replied, pulling up a chair near the window opposite the bar.

“Heel,” she said, firmly to Rusty when she felt that her dog had received enough attention. The spaniel obediently lay at her feet and rested her head on her paws, watching her owner without moving her head.

“Black coffee?” Kath, the jovial owner, and bartender inquired, a warm friendly smile on her kind, lived-in face.

“Yes, Kath. Thanks,” Belinda replied, loosening her coat.

The village of Brockhampton had a population of under a thousand people and when Belinda and Greg had first moved into Yew Tree Cottage seven years ago as newlyweds, they fell in love with the place and were touched by the villagers’ kindness in welcoming them into the fold. As newcomers, she thought they would have to work hard at becoming part of the community but thankfully, they slotted right into place.

Greg had joined the Parish Council and she had helped set up a Youth Club in the Village Hall, which hadn’t been easy, but she had enjoyed it all the same, despite some cheekier kids being a bit of a handful. Her teaching experience kicked in and she eventually gained the trust and respect of her flock of children.

“Greg working away again, love?” Kath asked as she brought the coffee over and set it in front of Belinda.

Belinda smiled weakly, her short bobbed hair framing her pretty face. “Yes, he’s over in Northampton this week. Back on Friday, though.”

Kath gave her a knowing look. “He’s doing it all for you, love. You know that don’t you?”

Belinda bit back the tears. Of course, she knew. But it didn’t dim the ache that she felt for him when he was away.

Kath pulled out the old wooden bar chair opposite her friend.

“How are you doing, love?” she asked. “You can always talk to me, you know that, don’t you?” she said in her soft Scottish burr.

Even though village life can seem like living in a fishbowl at times with busybodies twitching their net curtains at the merest hint of a scandal, the night an ambulance had pulled up outside Yew Tree Cottage with it’s blue lights flashing, the village drums beat faster than ever. Before sun-up, practically everybody knew that Belinda had been rushed into Westmoore Hospital and that she had been in the early stages of pregnancy, but people rallied around and wanted to know how she was doing. Nobody actually asked the question that was on everybody’s mind.

“I’m fine, Kath. Really,” she added, reassuring her friend. “Greg and I are going to try for another baby soon. We need to heal first.”

“You can come and talk to me anytime you need to, OK?” Kath reached out and patted her hand gently before getting back to tending to her customers.

The ectopic pregnancy had taken Belinda completely by surprise. She had been shopping in Marks & Spencer when she felt the first stab of pain and thought something wasn’t right. When she had returned home and put her feet up, she had felt slightly better and as Greg was working away, she had decided to take a bath and have an early night.

The stabbing pains that woke her in the early hours were horrendous and she only just managed to call 999 for an ambulance. She didn’t remember much after that.

The first thing she remembered was a young nurse striding breezily into her room at the hospital with Greg hot on her heels, his handsome face etched with concern.

“Hey. Are you alright? What happened? Was it a miscarriage? The doctors were very vague and said they wanted to speak to both of us, together.”

Greg took Belinda into his arms and that’s when she broke down.

* * *

This article was first published on Medium, where you can find more of my work. Why not get a weekly update from my village in England by signing up to Rosy's Ramblings? I publish every Saturday and it's free!

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