Illness

Molly rubbed the tip of her nose thoughtfully. "I think so. The way I know Faith, she won't have the heart to put them on the street. "

“That's right,” Polly nodded, “she's never been inconsiderate to other people. - And I have to admit that she and Dr. Clarke would really be a very nice couple. "

Faith sat on the bench in the small bay window in her old room and stared out the window.

She had known that it would not be easy to come here after all these years, not after everything that had happened. But she hadn't expected that her father would give her another shock after his death by renting the practice to a complete stranger. And as if that weren't enough, it wasn't an older doctor who looked fatherly and kind, but a guy whose list of conquests was guaranteed to be longer than the distance from the earth to the moon.

Lucian Clarke was undoubtedly one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, and he was dangerous - dangerous to her peace of mind, she had realized after a few minutes. In the course of her acting career, she had met many good-looking men, but none had such a strong erotic charisma as this doctor, whose gray eyes had awakened unexpected longings in her.

Even Gabriel, with whom she had been with a year and a half, hadn't held nearly such an attraction for her.

Gabriel. Immediately she ignored this name. She didn't want to hear him anymore or think about it, never again. He had used and manipulated her, and what she had initially taken to be the great love had turned out to be the greatest catastrophe of her life.

That was why she was here in St. Albury in the first place. Her father's funeral was one reason, the search for oblivion the other. She had literally fled here, fled the superficiality of her glamorous spotlight existence, and fled the pain Gabriel had inflicted on her.

But instead of finding the expected calm, she was now confronted with a situation that again triggered thoughts of flight in her.

I'm twenty-eight, I can't run away from everything forever, she thought resignedly, it's time I took my life back in my hands.

With a low sigh, she got up, undressed, and lay down in her bed.

Aunt Polly was right, it wouldn't be fair to let Lucian Clarke and his young daughter pay for what their father had done. Should he just continue the practice, in principle it didn't matter. She would stay here for a few days, sort out everything that needed to be sorted out and figure out how she wanted to shape her future. By then they would somehow come to terms with each other, and she was mature enough not to let any stupid, physical reactions throw her off course.

It was more the weather for a nice getaway than for a funeral. Spring had already begun, everything was green and blooming, and the sun was laughing from an almost cloudless, bright blue sky.

All of St. Albury and countless residents from the surrounding villages had gathered in the small cemetery to celebrate Dr. Paying his last respects to Elliott Havering.

Faith, who was standing at the head of the grave, flanked by her aunts, wasn't particularly surprised.

Her father had cared for the entire St. Albury district, and everyone had been more than concerned about his sudden death. Most of the people knew him from childhood and trusted him with their health without reservation. His calm and level-headed manner, his sense of humor and his distinctive charm had made him very popular with his patients - too popular with some, as Faith now thought cynically.

She pushed that thought aside again, concentrating, her face petrified, on the Reverend Oakland's eulogy.

It did not escape her that she was being watched carefully from all sides. That was less because of her fame as an actress, but more because all the locals were aware of their difficult relationship with their father. In a sleepy little village like St. Albury, no one could keep things a secret, no matter how private. However, the gossip here rarely took place out of curiosity or for general entertainment; it was almost always based on genuine sympathy and a desire for solidarity.

After the heavy oak coffin was lowered, she patiently accepted the wishes of condolence and shook countless hands. As the cemetery was slowly emptying, she asked her aunts to attend to the mourners expected at the villa and to leave them alone at the grave for a moment.

Faith sat down on a wooden bench a few steps away and stared thoughtfully at the tombstone that already bore her mother's name.

"Oh mom," she whispered unhappily, "I miss you so much."

Her thoughts wandered back to the time when her small, perfect world was broken.

She had grown up in the comfort of a loving home, and as far as she could remember, her parents had always had happy marriages.

Then came the weekend when she came home from university and found her mother crying in the kitchen. She was twenty-one at the time, had started medical school, and was inspired by the desire to follow in her father's footsteps.

Although she bombarded her mother with questions, of course she did not want to tell her what caused her such grief that she stood in front of the stove and shed bitter tears. But it hadn't been long before Faith found out for herself.

At this point, she was already helping her father during the semester break and, as often as possible, in the practice in between. She coordinated the appointments, did the pending office work and supported him with small handouts.

It didn't take any special intelligence to notice that a certain patient kept coming to the practice, always with some flimsy complaints. At first Faith hadn't thought anything of it, after all there were many people who imagined all kinds of illnesses or ran to the doctor about every little thing. But when Faith surprised her one afternoon in a deep embrace with her father in the examination room, she knew what was going on.