His Perfect Bride? by Louisa Heaton Read Free Book Online Page B

somehow create a reason for visiting this sister. ‘Do you know her name? Where she lives?’
    Bonnie looked oddly at her. ‘Something important is driving you, isn’t it, Doctor? All these questions…’
    ‘Something. Maybe. Do you know?’
    Bonnie shook her head. ‘No, sorry. But I think her name was Brenda, if that’s any help?’
    Brenda Lomax. Okay. I can check on that.
    Bonnie rubbed at her chest.
    ‘You okay?’ There was a slight sheen of sweat on Bonnie’s face.
    ‘Touch of indigestion. Now…who else can I help you with?’
    ‘This family…’ Lula pointed at the electoral roll. ‘The Love family. What do you know about them?’
    ‘There’s no “them”. There’s just Elizabeth.’
    Elizabeth. Elizabeth Love. Another EL.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Keeps herself to herself. You don’t see her much—though she takes in all manner of waifs and strays.’
    ‘People?’
    ‘Animals! Cats, dogs, mice, wildlife… She’s got a real animal rescue thing going on up there.’
    ‘Up where?’
    ‘Burner’s Road. It’s on the very outer edge of Atlee Wold—leads to Burner’s Farm. It’s quite isolated, but she seems to like that. The vets round here bring her animals to care for and she takes them all in. Prefers them to people.’
    Lula listened, thinking about how she’d driven to Burner’s Farm just last night. Had she driven past her own mother’s house and not known it? How likely a candidate might Elizabeth Love be? Apart from the initials, there weren’t any clues.
    ‘What about the Lewis family?’
    ‘Big family. Lots of relatives. Well known around these parts…well liked. Phoebe Macabee used to be a Lewis, until she married her Ron.’
    ‘Any of them have a name beginning with E?’
    Bonnie pursed her lips, thinking. ‘Let me see… Ron, Davey, Shaun, Marion, the kids… No, I don’t think so. Who are you after?’
    Lula smiled. ‘And the Louthams?’ She pointed at their name on the electoral roll. ‘Any of them have the initial E?’
    ‘Well, there’s Edward Loutham…’
    She rubbed at her chest again, and now Lula could see that Bonnie was looking a bit pale and clammy. But if she was ill surely she’d say something?
    Since when has someone of Bonnie’s generation ever been honest about the extent of their health? She said ‘indigestion’, but…
    Bonnie tried to stand and lift her books to put them on the counter, but she gasped and leant against the unit.
    ‘Bonnie?’
    But Bonnie didn’t answer. She groaned, clutching her arm, and then she slipped forward.
    Lula tried to catch her, to break the old lady’s fall, but Bonnie was heavier than she looked and she tumbled to the floor with a thud.
    Lula rolled her over. ‘Bonnie! Bonnie, can you hear me? Open your eyes!’
    No response.
    She grabbed Bonnie’s shoulders and gave her a small shake. ‘Bonnie!’ Then she knelt over her, tilting Bonnie’s head back and listening and watching for breaths.
    She’d stopped breathing.
    A million thoughts raced through Lula’s head. She needed to start CPR, and she also needed help. She ran to the door of the library and yanked it open. Seeing an old man strolling along opposite, his rolled-up newspaper in his hands, she called out, ‘I need help in here!’ before dashing back to Bonnie to begin chest compressions.
    She pressed down hard, keeping a continuous rhythm, trying to count the beats. She had done the first thirty compressions and was blowing air into Bonnie’s lungs by the time the library door opened and the man she’d seen in the street appeared.
    ‘Oh, my goodness!’
    ‘I need you to call an ambulance! And fetch Dr James—see if he’s got a defibrillator.’
    She had no idea if they did or not. But some remote areas had them and she could only hope that Atlee Wold was one of them.
    After breathing twice for Bonnie, Lula carried on with the compressions. ‘Come on, Bonnie.’ She pushed and pushed. Up. Down. Up. Down. A continuous rhythm she dared not break.
    The