Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
An unfamiliar car was parked outside Wordsworth Cottage when she got home from film club. Ottilie stopped on the pavement for a second, trying to recall if she knew it and who it might belong to. The sight did nothing to settle her uneasy mood, but she dismissed it quickly, deciding that she really did need a good night’s sleep. Perhaps then she’d stop seeing bad news wherever she went.
But as she opened the front door she could hear voices in the living room. She went in to find Fion sitting with her mum, Caron.
‘Oh…’ Ottilie looked from one to the other, fingers twisted around the door handle. ‘Hello.’
‘Ottilie…’ Fion got up. ‘I’m sorry…you don’t mind Mum being here, do you?’
‘Of course not. I wasn’t expecting?—’
‘I know, I didn’t say,’ Fion added. ‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.’
Ottilie wondered what had made Fion bring her mum out here. They’d stayed in contact while Fion had been living in Thimblebury, as Ottilie would have expected, but neither Caron nor Conrad had seemed interested in visiting. Ottilie had told Fion she could ask them, but she’d got the impression that Fion would rather they didn’t. Something had changed, and Ottilie wondered if it was to do with her affair with Damien and its fallout.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Ottilie said.
Fion looked awkward, but Caron looked more relieved.
‘Please don’t think you can’t come and go,’ Fion said. ‘It’s your house.’
‘It’s no problem – I’ll go and make a drink. Does anyone want anything?’
Caron shook her head.
‘We’ve just had one,’ Fion said.
Ottilie went to the kitchen. As she closed the door, she could hear their conversation resume. Caron’s tone had a note of entreaty in it. She was asking Fion for something? It sounded that way. Perhaps Fion would put Ottilie in the picture once her mum had gone, but Ottilie had to wonder how long Caron was planning to stay. It was already quite late, and she had a drive of at least forty minutes home. It looked as if Ottilie’s plans for an early night were out of the window.
She put the kettle on and texted Heath, just to see how his day had been. His reply was almost immediate:
Boring as always, but meeting was useful. How about you? How are you holding up? Did you go to film club or straight to bed after work? I know I didn’t want to wake up this morning.
A text message wasn’t the place to fill him in on everything that had happened in Thimblebury since his departure that morning, so she sent a brief note to say she’d found the day a slog too, that she’d been to film club, and that she was planning to get some sleep just as soon as she could. She didn’t tell him that Caron was there and that she was trying to stay out of her and Fion’s way while they discussed something that sounded important.
He sent one more in response, telling her he loved her, to which she replied in kind, and then her thoughts went back to the conversation taking place in the living room. Should she pop her head round and say she’d be going to bed? Then they could take as long as they wanted and they wouldn’t have to worry about her being around.
Just as she’d decided that was what she’d do, she heard the front door being opened and murmuring in the hallway. Then the door closed and Fion came into the kitchen.
‘Mum’s just gone. I’m sorry I didn’t…I didn’t know she was coming until the very last minute, and I thought you’d be out at film club longer…I hope it’s OK.’
‘It’s your home as much as mine,’ Ottilie said. ‘Of course you can have your mum visit.’
‘I thought you might be angry that I’d given them your address.’
‘Why would I be angry?’
Fion took a seat at the table with her and shrugged. ‘Because of my dad. I mean our dad.’
‘I hardly think he’s going to rush over here for Sunday lunch,’ Ottilie said. ‘You could subliminally implant my address into his brain while he was sleeping and I’m quite sure it wouldn’t make him want to come over. He made his feelings quite clear when I went to meet him. Sorry,’ Ottilie added as she picked up her mug. ‘I know he’s your dad.’
‘He’s your dad too – you’re entitled to say how you feel.’
‘In that case, he might be my dad, but it doesn’t feel that way to me. To me, he’s just a man I once met who wasn’t very nice to me.’
‘He’s not very nice to anyone,’ Fion said.
Ottilie had to wonder, not for the first time, what her mum had seen in him. Her marriage must have been at rock bottom for her to stray to someone like Conrad because it couldn’t have just been his looks. She had to reflect on the parallels of that situation with Fion, Melanie and Damien. It wasn’t the same, but there was more than an element of history repeating itself. Then again, there didn’t seem much chance of Damien and Melanie patching things up, as her own mum and dad had done.
Fion’s voice broke into Ottilie’s thoughts. ‘Mum wants me to go home.’
Ottilie didn’t immediately respond. She was meant to say that she didn’t want Fion to leave. She didn’t, but logic was telling her that it might be the best solution to their current predicament. It would take her away from the gossip and allow time for the dust to settle. Perhaps it would even help Fion and Damien reflect on their affair with more clarity, and perhaps they’d both decide there was no future in it. As harsh a conclusion as it was, Ottilie couldn’t help but feel it would be the easiest way out. For her or for Fion? Selfish, yes, but Ottilie had to admit that it would probably make her happier than Fion if they called it off.
‘I don’t think I will,’ Fion continued. ‘Unless you want me to.’
Ottilie shook herself and offered a vague smile. ‘I’ve got no intention of asking you to leave. It’s up to you. There’s a room here for as long as you want it.’
‘I feel I’m making things difficult for you.’
‘Is that why your mum came? Because she wanted to persuade you to go back to them?’
‘I phoned her. I wanted to talk to her…I miss her, even though I don’t want to go back. I was feeling…’ Fion’s sentence trailed off.
‘I know,’ Ottilie said. ‘It’s understandable. You can’t let people get to you.’
‘I don’t care about them getting to me; I care what people say to you.’
There was a flash of rebellion in Fion’s tone. Ottilie recognised that streak of granite she’d inherited from Conrad, the same steel she’d seen once before. She wasn’t as weak as she sometimes seemed.
‘You don’t need to worry about that,’ Ottilie said. ‘The people who have bad things to say aren’t ones worth listening to.’
‘But if me being here was a problem, then I could go. I don’t think Heath?—’
‘Heath’s fine with you being here,’ Ottilie cut in. ‘He’s got no time for gossip either. If you want to leave, neither of us would try to stop you, but we’re happy to have you if you want to stay.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Positive,’ Ottilie said, though she wished she could feel it as forcefully as she’d just said it.
Despite her tiredness, Ottilie had struggled to sleep that night. Yet more rain was forecast, but the morning was bright and cloudless, and the air was clean and sharp in her lungs. Ottilie parked her car on a plateau and walked the rest of the way up to Hilltop Farm, knowing that the wet weather they’d had overnight would have made the path that was barely a road too muddy to drive safely. She never minded climbing that last bit of the hill. The scenery up here was breathtaking, like she could see the entire world – rolling carpets of green scored by dark valleys and silver rivers stretching out as far as she could see.
At the house, she knocked on the back door to announce her arrival, as she always did, before pushing it open and walking into the kitchen. Darryl was at the table, head bent over his favourite train book, gulping down a glass of juice, as always, while Ann cooked bacon and sausage for him.
She turned with a smile. ‘Morning, Ottilie. How are you?’ She paused. ‘Oh dear, you look a bit peaky. Didn’t sleep well?’
‘Not the best night I’ve ever had.’
‘I suppose there’s no surprise there,’ she replied mildly before turning back to the pan. ‘Do you want a sandwich this morning? There’s plenty here.’
‘No, thank you.’ Ottilie put her bag on the table. ‘What do you mean, “no surprise”?’ She was aware that her tone was perhaps a little sharper than she’d intended.
Ann didn’t seem to notice. ‘All the trouble you’re having. It would be enough to keep anyone up at night.’
‘Trouble?’
Ann nodded as she turned over the bacon. ‘It’s a shame. Must be a worry.’
There was only one conclusion Ottilie could draw. Somehow, the village gossip had even got as far as the remote Hilltop Farm. Ann rarely went into the village. Ottilie couldn’t imagine how it had travelled so far. Unless she’d heard directly from Corrine or Victor, who were friends of hers. In which case, at least it would be a fair and balanced picture rather than the titillation she was sure was spreading around the village even as she thought about it. She had to admit, Ann didn’t seem too concerned by what she’d heard. She only seemed sympathetic.
‘Has Victor been over to see you?’ she asked, keeping her tone casual.
‘I ran out of kindling yesterday so I went over to see if I could get some. Victor was at the house.’
‘Oh. So you stayed to have a chat with Corrine?’
‘A few minutes. She was busy, you see. With her Melanie. She’s staying with them for a while.’
‘I suppose they told you all about that.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Ann said. ‘They don’t blame you.’
‘Oh…’ Ottilie glanced at Darryl, who, as usual, took no notice of their conversation. ‘Is everything all right here? Darryl had his insulin this morning?’
‘I think so. He doesn’t try to hide it so much these days. Since he got that book from Dr Stokes, you can do anything with him. Put that thing in front of him and you can let a bomb off next to his head and he wouldn’t even notice.’
‘That’s good. You don’t need me today then.’
‘Oh, we like to see you.’ Ann looked up now with vague panic on her face. ‘You’re not going to stop coming up, are you? Only he’d notice that. Routine would change, you see. You think he’s not taking stock, but he is – when it comes to routine, he always knows.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean that. Of course I’ll keep coming up. As much as I can, in any case. Things aren’t always in my control, you know…’
‘You’re not going to leave Thimblebury?’
‘No – who said that?’
‘Corrine said she wouldn’t be surprised with all the trouble here for you. And then you just said?—’
‘I only meant things like holidays and sick days. Even I get sick.’
‘That’s a relief.’ Ann went back to her cooking. ‘Are you sure you won’t take a sandwich? I’ve made far too much bacon, as usual.’
Just to make Ann happy, Ottilie agreed to the sandwich. She took a seat as Ann went to get some bread from the crock. ‘Will your sister leave?’
Ottilie didn’t reply straight away. She watched Ann place slices of bacon on the bread she’d just cut from her home-made loaf and wondered what she was meant to say. Did Ann want her sister to leave? Was that how people in Thimblebury felt?
‘None of my business, I suppose,’ Ann said as she wrapped Ottilie’s sandwich. ‘I didn’t mean to pry. I’m sure Damien and Melanie were already in trouble before she arrived. Corrine hasn’t said so, but it’s obvious, isn’t it? Something happened with her last year. I don’t know what, but I know it was something.’
‘Happened with who? Melanie?’
Ann nodded as she put Ottilie’s parcel on the table in front of her.
‘What happened last year?’
‘I don’t know, but something did. Or maybe it was before that. Around the time Corrine was poorly. You remember – that wasn’t long after you got here.’
‘That must be the year before,’ Ottilie said thoughtfully. She’d never heard of anything like Ann was telling her. Then again, she had been new to the village and preoccupied with settling in and getting to grips with her new job. And if Ann was talking about Corrine’s skin cancer, Ottilie supposed she and Victor were going to have been preoccupied with that. If something had gone on with Melanie, depending on what it was, it might not have been uppermost in their minds either. They certainly wouldn’t have been telling Ottilie about it. She wondered what Ann was talking about and how she knew so much. Maybe it was as simple as her living alone up here with time to notice the comings and goings of her nearest neighbours.
‘I wouldn’t worry about any of it,’ Ann said. ‘People have nothing better to do.’
‘Did you see Melanie when you were over there?’
‘She came into the kitchen for a minute. Didn’t say much. Never did, to be honest, so no surprise there. I’ve never met your sister, but if she’s like you, I daresay I’d prefer her to Melanie anyway. It’s funny how people as nice as Corrine and Victor could have a daughter like that.’
Ottilie recalled hearing that from someone else, though she couldn’t remember who. She hadn’t been around Melanie all that much but had always found her courteous enough. Apart from their encounter the other night, of course, and nobody could accuse her of not having a good reason for being less than amiable that time. ‘But she looked all right? She didn’t seem ill or anything?’
‘She could have done with a hairbrush and was in her dressing gown, but other than that, she seemed all right.’
‘Hmm…’ Ottilie collected her sandwich. ‘Thank you for this,’ she said, holding the parcel up as she stood to go.
‘So you’ll be here tomorrow, like always?’ Ann asked.
‘Don’t worry – I’ll be here.’
‘Good. Darryl will be glad.’
Ottilie had always suspected that her regular visits were more appreciated by Ann than Darryl, but she never said so. She only left with an airy wave and headed back to her car, deep in thought.
At the surgery, Lavender greeted Ottilie with the news that Fliss was on a house call. This was cause for remark because while Simon was happy enough to venture out into the community when it was necessary, Fliss never went on house calls if she could help it. And then Lavender, with more glee than Ottilie was happy about, revealed who she’d gone to see.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t pass her car on your way down from Hilltop. You must have crossed paths. She’s gone to see Melanie at Daffodil.’
‘Melanie? What for?’
‘I don’t know. I took the call from Corrine, but she didn’t want to say what it was about, only that it was for Melanie.’
Fliss wouldn’t have said either. She might not even want to tell Ottilie. It all depended on what the visit was for.
‘So,’ Ottilie said, trying to be professional about it, despite her racing thoughts, ‘is there anything I need to do while she’s out? Someone I can see to ease her load when she gets back?’
‘I don’t think so. She didn’t say so. Simon said he could cover any emergencies here while she’s missing.’
‘I’m surprised Simon didn’t go.’
‘Corrine was very specific that she wanted Fliss. I suppose it must be an ongoing problem that Fliss has already seen her for. Do you want a coffee?’ Lavender asked as Ottilie made her way to her room. ‘I’m making one anyway.’
‘A two-scoop special sounds good about now, if you’re offering.’
‘Ooh, bad night then? Again?’
Ottilie didn’t need to tell Lavender she had good reason for losing sleep – she’d have heard as much in the village gossip as everyone else by now. And so she simply turned back with a nod.
‘Two-scoop special coming up. I can bring you a biscuit if you like?’
‘Ann’s given me one of her doorstops,’ Ottilie said. She rifled in her bag and held it out to Lavender. ‘Actually, I’m not all that hungry, if you want it.’
Lavender grinned as she took it. ‘Don’t need to tell me twice! Thanks, Ann!’
Fliss was busy catching up on paperwork at lunch and so didn’t come down to the kitchen until it was almost over. Ottilie sensed some irritation, and she was reluctant to bring it up in case it had been caused by her visit to Melanie – and, by default, Fion or herself. Fliss gobbled the carrot soup that Lavender had kept warm for her while Ottilie finished hers and helped to tidy the kitchen. By the time she’d eaten, everything else was cleared away. Fliss took her empty bowl to the sink, but Lavender grabbed for it.
‘Don’t worry; I’ll wash it. I know you’ve got a lot to do.’
Fliss gave her a grateful smile. Simon had already gone back to his room and, as Fliss left, Ottilie went after her, catching her in the hallway.
‘I know you’re busy, but do you have time for the quickest word?’
Fliss turned to her with a wry smile. The impatience was still there, but Ottilie appreciated that she was trying to keep it bottled. ‘Would this be anything to do with my home visit today?’
‘Um…’
‘It’s all right,’ Fliss said. ‘I’m happy to speak about it, though there’s not all that much to tell. I think Corrine’s concerns were worse than any actual medical problem. Melanie is fine. Down, of course, in need of some counselling, perhaps – which I have put a request in for – and some rest with as little excitement as possible.’
‘That’s the part that worries me,’ Ottilie said.
‘I can imagine.’
‘But she’s not in any immediate…’ Ottilie paused, searching for the right word. Danger wasn’t it, and yet she worried that there might be danger of some kind – for Melanie herself at least. Distress? That much was obvious so there was no point in hoping for anything other. ‘There’s nothing in her behaviour right now that makes you think we need to keep a very close eye on her? Perhaps even remove things that might cause her stress to bubble over?’
‘I don’t think it ever hurts to remove those,’ Fliss said. ‘But it’s rarely that simple. I don’t see her stress bubbling over, as you so eloquently put it. I think she’s exhausted – emotionally – and I think what she’s getting now, some quiet time under the watchful eye of Corrine and Victor, ought to do the trick eventually.’ She put a hand on Ottilie’s shoulder. ‘Does that put your mind at rest?’
‘Honestly?’ Ottilie gave a vague shrug. ‘Not really. Will you keep me updated? I don’t need to know specifics, only if things are going in the right direction.’
‘I’m sure Corrine and Victor will do that. I imagine you’ll know more most of the time than I do.’
‘As things are, I don’t feel I can ask them.’
‘I think they’d appreciate you asking. In times of crisis, don’t we all find it a comfort to know our friends are thinking of us?’
Ottilie hadn’t thought about it that way.
‘Sorry to cut you off,’ Fliss added. ‘But…’ She nodded at the door to her room.
‘Oh, yes, of course. Sorry. Thank you.’
Fliss acknowledged her thanks and went to start her afternoon clinic, leaving Ottilie rooted to the spot, deep in thought. Should she be encouraged by Fliss’s assessment of the situation at Daffodil Farm? Would it be a good idea to go over there later to see for herself?
A voice snapped her out of her musings.
‘Having clinic in the hallway this afternoon?’ Lavender asked.
Ottilie turned to her with a distracted smile. ‘Sorry…I’m on my way to start now.’
‘Looks like it. Do I need to force another two-scoop special on you?’
‘Give me an hour,’ Ottilie said. ‘If it all goes quiet and you come in to find me face down on the desk, you might have to.’