Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
It was usually Ottilie’s colleague, Lavender, the receptionist at the surgery who went out to get coffee and tea for the surgery. But today she’d been snowed under at work and a couple of no-shows had left a gap in Ottilie’s clinic schedule, so she’d offered to nip out to get their supplies.
The day was as bright as the one before, the air like cut crystal as the spring sun bounced from the rooftops of the village. After two years living here, Ottilie took the clean air and green hillsides for granted too often, as she did the twisting roads and lanes that had no idea what a traffic jam was. Today was no different, though she took a moment to admire a row of cherry trees where the first pimples of blossoms were bursting from the branches. A trio of women from the mother and baby group passed by with their prams and pushchairs and said hello. Ottilie presumed they were taking advantage of the good weather to let their little ones loose on the playground outside the community centre where they normally held the group.
At the shop, Magnus was cleaning some low shelves. He was grumbling, dipping his hand into a bucket of water that probably needed changing, but at the sight of Ottilie he brightened.
‘Hello, Nurse!’
‘Morning.’ Ottilie made a beeline for her supplies.
‘Did you enjoy your evening?’
Ottilie grinned as she turned to see him look up at her from his spot on the floor, trying, but failing, to look as if his question was innocent. ‘Very much, thank you.’
Geoff came in from the back room and went to the counter. ‘Hello. I thought I heard your voice. Is he grilling you for information already? He’s obsessed with getting this secret out of you.’
‘I only told you about the party yesterday afternoon.’
‘I know – that’s how quickly he’s become obsessed. He hasn’t stopped talking about it.’
‘That’s not true,’ Magnus huffed. ‘You make me sound like crazy town.’
‘You are crazy town,’ Geoff told him.
‘What about your party?’ Magnus got up from the floor, drying his hands on an apron as he walked over to join them at the till. ‘Where are you going to have it?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose we might hire somewhere, not sure where. There aren’t that many places locally. I’ll have to see what ideas Heath has. We haven’t got that far yet.’
‘We thought,’ Geoff said, ‘you might like to have it at our place.’
‘Oh,’ Ottilie began, ‘it’s kind of you, but?—’
‘You already know it’s plenty big enough because we have film club there,’ Geoff interrupted. ‘Everyone knows where it is and can easily get there. It makes sense. Otherwise it’s the grotty community centre, or somewhere out of the village that will cost your guests a fortune in taxis.’
‘I wondered whether we could do it at my place,’ Ottilie said.
‘Are you only inviting yourselves and a couple of fleas?’ Magnus asked.
Ottilie laughed. ‘I suppose Wordsworth Cottage is a bit on the small side. If we had the weather, we could?—’
Geoff held out the card reader for Ottilie to pay. ‘Why are you putting up a fight? It’s the perfect solution, and we’d love to have you.’
‘We would,’ Magnus agreed. ‘It will be a good excuse to catch up with Heath. He doesn’t come to film club often.’
‘He’s busy, you know,’ Ottilie said, ‘at work. He doesn’t get as much time to come as he’d like.’
The real reason Heath didn’t go to film club was that he thought it was silly and they didn’t show the films he wanted to see. It had been a point of contention between them from time to time. Perhaps, once he moved to Thimblebury and felt more a proper part of the community instead of a part-timer, he might be better disposed to the club and its members. Ottilie didn’t always want to see the films that were chosen, but she’d treated it as a place to keep up with friends and neighbours, and she looked forward to their monthly meet-ups.
‘Magnus only wants him to come so he can drool over him,’ Geoff said.
Magnus prodded him with a chuckle. ‘I do not drool. I only said once he looks like a very handsome boy I went to school with. My first crush, in fact.’
‘ Heath does?’ Ottilie asked. ‘How did I not know this? God,’ she added with a smile, ‘I hope it’s not him. That would be awkward.’
‘You know,’ Magnus said, ‘I think he does look a little Icelandic.’
‘Does he?’
‘I think it’s the teeth.’
Ottilie burst out laughing. ‘The teeth? He’ll love that when I tell him! So you might be long-lost cousins?’
‘You never know,’ Magnus said, tapping the side of his nose. ‘And then you’d be my cousin too.’
‘How do you work that out?’
‘When you marry him.’
‘Who said I was going to marry him?’ Ottilie’s tone was coquettish. She was in the mood to put questions into their heads and then not give them the answers.
‘Pft!’ Geoff waved his hands. ‘Of course you will! And don’t listen to Magnus – he thinks everyone looks a bit Icelandic.’
‘We probably all are,’ Ottilie said. ‘Way back. I expect if you go far enough back, we’re all a little bit of everything.’
‘Vikings,’ Magnus said sagely, making Ottilie laugh again.
‘I don’t think there’s much Viking in me. They’d have kicked me out for being soft.’ She scooped up her coffee and sugar. ‘I’d better get back, or I’ll be kicked out of my job by Fliss. See you later.’
‘Don’t forget what we said,’ Geoff reminded her as she made for the door. ‘Ask Heath, but you’re welcome to have the party at our place.’
‘I will.’ Ottilie stepped outside. She didn’t want to put Magnus and Geoff out, but she couldn’t deny that it did seem like a very good idea.
Some things never changed at Thimblebury surgery. Though Fliss, the chief partner and GP, had cut her hours to spend more time with her husband Charles after his heart attack, and Simon had become their regular full-time GP, they’d agreed to keep their daily work routine largely as it had been for all the years Fliss and Lavender had worked together. Which meant closing up at lunchtime – barring emergencies – and downing tools to share a meal together. Fliss had always seen it as time to bond them as colleagues and friends, and while it was unconventional in Ottilie’s experience – there had hardly been time for a sip of water on shift when she’d worked as a ward nurse at a Manchester hospital – she’d grown to love these moments. During their lunch breaks together, she’d learned more about her co-workers and their lives than she’d ever known about anyone she’d been on shift with at the hospital, and the surgery team was as close as any she’d worked with as a result.
‘No Mrs Icke this morning,’ Lavender said as she filled the kettle. ‘I bet you’re relieved about that.’
‘Yes,’ Ottilie said, pulling some plastic tubs from the fridge. ‘That’s one way of putting it. I might just have to check the calendar to see if it’s my birthday and I forgot.’
‘Don’t push your luck – she’ll probably turn up this afternoon to demand an audience. Doesn’t know what an appointment is.’ Lavender looked up at the clock. ‘If those two don’t get down here soon, there’ll be no point in them starting lunch at all.’
‘It seems like it’s been one of those days when the schedule goes out of the window. I’ve had my share of overruns today.’
As if in response, Fliss barrelled into the kitchen. ‘Honestly! Five minutes means five minutes, doesn’t it? It certainly does to me, so why do so many of my patients think it’s all right to take twenty explaining the lump on their toe that’s hardly there at all and then remind me of every other illness they’ve ever had?’
‘Because you let them,’ Lavender said. ‘You need to be more assertive.’
‘Any more assertive I’d be throwing them through an open window,’ Fliss grumbled. ‘I always thought the words: our time is up; I have more patients to see meant just that. Unless I’ve been speaking Greek this whole time and nobody told me.’
‘Well, you’re not alone by the looks of it,’ Ottilie said. ‘Simon isn’t done with his last patient either. I think it’s been one of those sorts of mornings.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t continue into the afternoon. Thank God for our lunch breaks – if not for them, I’d lose my sanity.’
Fliss washed her hands and then took a seat at the table, Lavender immediately putting a plate of salad in front of her.
‘I plated it up a few minutes ago.’ she said in reply to Fliss’s look of faint surprise. ‘I thought you’d probably be along shortly.’
‘Where would I ever find a receptionist as good as you?’ Fliss picked up her fork and began to eat.
Lavender raised an eyebrow as she spooned some coleslaw onto her plate. ‘Considering that everyone in Thimblebury knows you, it won’t be from round here.’
‘Oh, Lavender!’ Fliss put a hand to her chest and pretended to be wounded. ‘Straight through the heart! How could you?’
Ottilie reached for the coleslaw tub, laughing softly. She loved the gentle, teasing banter that Fliss and Lavender shared. They’d worked closely together for many years, and it showed. Fliss trusted Lavender to run the administration side of her surgery like nobody else, and she loved her like a family member too. When Ottilie had first arrived, she’d wondered if she’d ever be a part of the surgery in the same way. She’d been happy to find that it hadn’t taken long for her to feel if not quite as indispensable as Lavender, liked and valued almost as much.
‘What’s with the posh coffee in the cupboard?’ Fliss added.
‘Blame Ottilie – she went to the shop today.’
Ottilie poured some water into a glass. ‘They didn’t have the usual stuff, and I thought I’d be fired if I came back with the value brand.’
‘Wise choice,’ Fliss said. ‘And how were the dynamic duo today?’
‘The usual. Magnus was doing his best to wind Geoff up, as he does.’
‘They’re a funny pair, aren’t they?’ Fliss said, and Ottilie reflected on the irony of that statement. If anyone asked most residents of Thimblebury who the funny pair was, they’d point the finger at Fliss and her husband, Charles before they zeroed in on Magnus and Geoff.
‘Magnus is a terrible flirt,’ Lavender said. ‘Remember when Simon first came to work here. Poor Geoff.’
‘Yes, but everyone knows he adores Geoff,’ Ottilie said. ‘It’s just his way; he can’t help it. He was even telling me today how he thinks Heath is a bit of all right’ – Ottilie sipped at her water – ‘to use a phrase my mum would be proud of.’
Lavender got up and searched the cupboard, coming back a moment later with a salt cellar. ‘No filter, that’s Magnus.’
‘Yep, whatever he’s thinking is coming straight out,’ Ottilie agreed. ‘He said he thought Heath might be Icelandic. He said he looks a bit like it.’
‘He thinks everyone might be Icelandic,’ Fliss said.
‘Said it was the teeth.’
Fliss let out a roaring laugh. ‘Now I’ve heard everything! Perhaps you ought to get his teeth tested, just to be certain.’
‘Imagine! I might find he’s related to Magnus. How funny would that be?’
‘You might get a discount at the shop. Worth a DNA test just for that, the prices they charge.’
Lavender and Ottilie exchanged a grin.
‘I was thinking of getting one of those done, actually,’ Lavender said. ‘My friend did it – found all these relatives in America. She’s going there next month to stay with some of them in Oregon. Lucky, eh? Free holiday. Knowing my luck, though, all my long-lost relatives would be in Hull.’
‘At least you wouldn’t have to go far to see them,’ Ottilie said.
‘True. But would I want to?’
‘I’ve done one,’ Fliss said. ‘After Charles’s heart scare, we both did one to see if there were any more genetic surprises lurking in our futures.’
Lavender gave a melodramatic shiver. ‘I’d rather not know if anything is coming for me.’
‘I’d say it’s wise to know.’
Lavender rolled her eyes. ‘You would.’
‘I was telling Simon about it only the other day. For the cost,’ Fliss continued, ‘I think it’s a good investment. I found mine fascinating in lots of other ways too.’
Ottilie ripped open a bread roll and started to butter it. ‘Did you? Like what?’
‘You’d be amazed at what they can tell from your DNA these days,’ Fliss said. ‘Finding your ancestors is only the tip of the iceberg. They can tell from your DNA what your hair colour ought to be, your eye colour…without even having seen you! You have to admit that’s clever. There’s even a section about sporting prowess. Apparently, genetically I’m a good long-distance runner.’
Lavender burst out laughing. ‘You’ve never run as far as the length of this kitchen!’
‘That might be true’ – Fliss wagged her fork at Lavender, not a bit offended – ‘but I could if I wanted to – my genes say so.’
‘I think you’d have to train first,’ Lavender replied.
‘And that’s the bit I have the problem with,’ Fliss shot back, causing Lavender to laugh again.
The door opened and Simon came in.
‘Trouble?’ Fliss asked.
‘Mrs Salt,’ he said. ‘I’ve sent her for a nasendoscopy…don’t like the look of a blockage in her throat.’
‘I’ll keep a look out for the results and get them to you as soon as they’re back,’ Lavender said.
Simon shot her a grateful, if weary, smile.
‘This looks nice,’ he said, turning his attention to the plate of salad Lavender pushed towards him.
‘It could do with some chips,’ Fliss said.
‘You’ve got bread,’ Lavender replied serenely. ‘That’s the only carb option I can do – sorry.’
‘Thank you, Lavender.’ Simon picked up his fork. But even as he tried to look cheerful, Ottilie could tell that he was not. She could guess at the reason. Simon worried too much about his patients. It was a quality that was both admirable and a problem for someone tasked with the care of a community, someone like Simon who took every failure personally, who looked after every patient as if they were a relative. Despite trying to put it away until the test results were available, he was worrying about Mrs Salt.
‘I’ll keep an eye on her,’ Ottilie said.
Simon looked up from his lunch.
‘Mrs Salt,’ Ottilie continued. ‘I’ll call in over the next few days and make sure she’s bearing up OK. She’s on my way home anyway. As for the rest…’ She shrugged.
‘I know,’ Simon said. ‘It’s in the lap of the gods. I get more frustrated than I ought to about things I can’t control. Hopefully she’ll get her procedure done quickly and it will be good news. She’s such a sweet old thing.’
‘Better behaved than some,’ Lavender agreed. She glanced at Ottilie. ‘Like Flo, for instance.’
‘Flo’s a kitten when you know what makes her tick,’ Ottilie said.
‘Rather you than me having to do that,’ Lavender replied.
The thought of Heath’s cantankerous grandmother reminded Ottilie that, in an in-law way, she would soon become her cantankerous grandmother too. All thoughts of troublesome patients and hidden family diseases were momentarily forgotten, replaced with excitement. She and Heath had agreed to keep their engagement a secret until the party they were planning to throw to announce it, but Ottilie was finding it hard to keep such good news to herself, particularly at moments like this, where she sensed the table could do with something positive to talk about. It wasn’t like they’d kept it entirely to themselves – Flo knew, though Ottilie and Heath had asked her to keep it to herself for the time being. They’d agreed they could be confident that she would, but then again, she’d been as excited as they were. There was a chance, given the right circumstances and the right gossip partner, that she’d let the secret out before they did. Their parents knew too. Would it matter if Ottilie told her colleagues – who could be trusted to keep it out of the village grapevine far more than Flo could? Besides, she’d been the one wanting to keep it a secret; Heath had been happy to shout it from the rooftops.
Before she’d had time to consider the matter further, impulsivity had taken hold and the words were out.
‘Heath and I are having a party.’
‘What for?’ Fliss asked.
Ottilie’s smile was so bright it seemed to light the room. ‘We got engaged.’
‘He proposed?’ Lavender leaped up and pulled Ottilie into a hug. ‘That’s amazing! Congratulations!’
‘About time,’ Fliss said.
Simon nodded. ‘Congratulations, Ottilie.’
His mood seemed immediately lighter, and Ottilie was glad to have shared her news, if only to see it. Simon had been a good friend to her and the village since his arrival, and he’d had his share of tragedy before then. More than anything, she’d wanted to see him find happiness here, as she’d done. He had, in the form of Stacey, her best friend, but for them love was still new in comparison to her and Heath.
‘When was this?’ he asked.
‘A few days ago,’ Ottilie said. ‘We wanted to announce it at the party and, to be honest, we were intending the party to be a lot sooner than it probably will be. As usual, things seem to be getting in the way. We’ve got a venue now, though, if we want one, so that’s one job off the list.’
‘Where are you having it?’ Simon asked.
‘Magnus and Geoff’s place.’
Lavender and Fliss both grinned.
‘Of course,’ Fliss said, going back to her meal. ‘If there’s attention to be had…’
‘I don’t think it’s quite like that,’ Ottilie replied. ‘They made a good point, that apart from the community centre, their place is about the only one big enough to hold more than a dozen people. And I think we’ll invite more people than that.’
‘I can’t believe you managed to keep it to yourself all this time.’ Lavender grabbed Ottilie’s hand and frowned at it. ‘Where’s the ring?’
‘She couldn’t very well wear it if she was going to keep the engagement a secret, could she?’ Fliss cut in. ‘I think one of us might have asked if we’d noticed an iceberg on her finger.’ She shot a sideways glance at Ottilie. ‘I trust he has bought you a diamond the size of the iceberg that did for the Titanic ?’
Ottilie smiled. ‘Not quite. I’ll bring it to show you tomorrow, but I won’t be wearing it just yet, not until it’s official. Please keep it to yourselves for now. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I couldn’t help it.’
‘We will,’ Fliss said, giving Lavender a pointed look.
Simon reached for the salt. ‘Heath won’t mind that we know?’
‘Of course not…’ Ottilie speared a tomato with her fork. ‘It was my idea to save the announcement. It turns out I’m not very good at saving announcements after all.’
‘You’re happy,’ Fliss said. ‘It’s only natural you want to share it. Nobody will hear it from my lips until your party. So when are you thinking about having it?’
‘I’m happy to do it sooner rather than later. I’ll talk to Heath later, see how he feels about Magnus and Geoff’s offer, and once I know, I’ll let everyone have invites.’
‘I take it he’ll be moving to Thimblebury then?’ Fliss asked, and in her tone now Ottilie detected some anxiety. It was hardly surprising. The last time Ottilie had mooted the idea of leaving the village and her job at the surgery, Fliss had taken it badly. They’d formed a close working relationship and friendship too, and Ottilie hadn’t realised just how much that meant to Fliss until it had been threatened with her leaving.
‘We haven’t got that far in our plans yet, but I think so. There’s been some discussion with his boss about remote working, and he had his place in Manchester valued just in case, so…’
‘Good,’ Fliss said. ‘It’ll be nice to see him around more often.’
‘Nice for me too,’ Ottilie said. ‘Long-distance is all very well, but it takes its toll on you after a while.’
‘I couldn’t be having all that toing and froing,’ Lavender said.
‘Quite,’ Fliss agreed. ‘Not that Charles would ever have been worth the effort.’
Ottilie shared a grin with Lavender and Simon. Fliss said things like that about her husband, but she didn’t feel them. They had what some in Thimblebury viewed as a strange marriage, but nobody could argue that they weren’t devoted to one another. He’d suffered a heart attack the previous year and her reaction to it had cemented the fact for anyone who’d doubted it.
‘Does Florence know about your engagement?’ Fliss asked.
Ottilie nodded. ‘She was the first person we told.’
Lavender reached for a roll and bit off the corner. ‘Can you imagine if she hadn’t been?’
‘She might have had something to say,’ Ottilie agreed.
‘Something to say?’ Lavender put her knife down. ‘We’d never have heard the end of it!’
‘I think it’s the most wonderful news,’ Fliss said. ‘It’s nice to have something cheerful to talk about at the table – too often it’s this person’s biopsy or that person’s post-nasal drip.’
‘Ugh,’ Lavender said primly. ‘Post-nasal drip – not at the dinner table, please.’
‘Would you rather have stool samples?’ Fliss asked impishly.
Simon and Ottilie both laughed while Lavender grimaced at Fliss. ‘Tomorrow, you can plate up your own salad!’