Chapter Twenty-Six
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ottilie frowned at the message. Joanna Maidstone – she hadn’t heard that name in a long time. Joanna had been the matron in charge of the ward Ottilie had been working on when she’d lost Josh. They’d never had much to do with one another socially, although they’d got along well at work. They’d exchanged a few brief messages after Ottilie had moved away from Manchester but not for a long time now. Wondering what on earth she could want, Ottilie opened it up and started to read.
‘Everything all right?’ Heath asked. He was lying beside her, pillows propping him up as he watched a movie on his laptop. ‘You’ve gone quiet. I don’t like it when you’re quiet – you’re supposed to be talking over the top of my film.’
‘Cheeky,’ Ottilie said, vaguely recognising she was meant to react to a joke he’d made but absorbed by Joanna’s message.
‘What is it then?’
‘I don’t know yet. Give me a minute…’
She was silent again, and Heath paused the action to wait for her. When she was finished, she locked the screen of her phone.
‘I’ve just been offered a job.’
‘You’ve got a job.’
‘In Manchester.’
‘Manchester?’
‘It’s a good one too. Clinical nurse specialist. I mean, when I say offered, I’ve been told I really should apply, which means she really wants me but can’t say so. Reading between the lines, if I went for it, then I’d get it. Good money too. Very good money. She’d put me on the top of the pay band.’
‘This is all great, but surely you don’t want to start commuting to Manchester. Especially not now I’m getting ready to move here.’
‘You wouldn’t have to move at all if I took it, would you? And you could take your promotion. We could live in Manchester.’
Heath closed his laptop and sat up. ‘You’re serious? But you love it here, and you love working at the surgery.’
‘Yes, but I can’t deny things have got sticky since Fion started this business with Damien. Some people have shown their true colours, and I feel as if…well, somehow I feel like the villain, even though I’ve done nothing wrong except bring her here.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘You’d think, wouldn’t you?’ She opened the message and read it again. ‘It’s tempting.’
‘I never thought I’d hear you say that. You can’t really be thinking of putting in an application?’
‘I don’t know. Part of me thinks there’s no harm in it. If I don’t get it, then I was wrong about how badly she wants me for her department. It’s weird timing, isn’t it? Feels as if there’s a reason it’s come through now.’
‘And if you do? If you get the job, what then?’
‘Then I can think about it.’
‘Leave yourself with an impossible choice, more like. I know you – you’ll drive yourself mad agonising over it. And whatever decision you make, you’ll torture yourself afterwards worrying it was the wrong one. As for leaving Thimblebury…’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t see it.’
‘I’ve loved being here, but when I arrived, I was broken and lonely. This village was what I needed back then. But now…Now I have you. If you’re with me, I can live anywhere and be happy. Thimblebury, right now, doesn’t even feel like the same place that was so good to me when I first arrived. Everyone’s at odds, and somehow I seem to be caught up in it all.’
‘That will pass.’
‘It will, I’m sure. But it’s so stressful I don’t know if I have the energy to ride it out until it does pass. Living here at the moment feels like hard work. And I’m sure it looks like running away, but I don’t care. I hate seeing this place the way it’s become – it’s ruining the memories of the good times I’ve had here. And think about it – this might be the perfect timing, regardless of anything else. It will be easier for you to do your new role if we’re both living in Manchester. If I’m working there, we can see a lot more of one another than we’ll be doing if I stay here.’
Heath put his laptop to one side and slid down the pillow to lie next to her. ‘You’d really be up for this?’
‘Yes…I think. I don’t know. There’s a lot to think about, but I don’t feel I want to say no straight off.’
‘It would be amazing.’ He smiled. ‘Not that I don’t like it here – I do, it’s great, but you’re right: life would be easier without all the back and forth. I’m not sure Gran would agree, but…’
‘She will not be impressed,’ Ottilie said. ‘I’m sure she’ll never forgive either of us. Other than that, it does feel like a bit of a magic bullet, doesn’t it? All our problems here sorted in one fell swoop.’
‘Not sorted, but out of reach, that’s for sure.’ He paused, studying her for a moment. ‘I know you, though. Doesn’t it feel a bit like running away?’
‘I don’t know when that ever stopped me. I ran away from Manchester in the first place – that’s what brought me here. And it didn’t end too badly, did it?’
‘No,’ he said, kissing her lightly. ‘I don’t think it did. Not for me, in any case.’
He pulled her into his arms, and she lay wrapped in his embrace. Thimblebury had been very good to her for so many reasons. Perhaps returning to Manchester would feel like running away, but it wasn’t as if she could never come back to visit. Her patients would be sad, some of them upset even, but when she’d first arrived, they’d felt that way about their previous nurse, Gwen, and that had passed as they’d got used to Ottilie. It would pass again once her replacement had settled in. Fliss would be upset, but surely she’d understand, and, besides, she didn’t have so many years to go until she retired, and then she’d be the one leaving the surgery. She thought about all her friends. She’d miss them, but they’d all understand too, wouldn’t they?
If anyone had told her she’d feel this way, even a month ago, she’d have laughed in their face. But, perhaps, regardless of the job, it was time to move on anyway.
It had been a couple of months since Ottilie had visited her mum in Manchester. They’d kept in regular contact over the phone and via messages, but life had been hectic. Francine had been only too pleased to hear that Ottilie planned to drive over that weekend, and Ottilie felt guilty for not warning her of the reasons for such a sudden house call.
‘You’ve had new curtains,’ Ottilie said as she walked into the living room.
Her hair was greyer than the last time Ottilie had seen her too, but there was good reason for that. It was naturally an ashy brown – a colour her mum had called mousey – and over the years she’d dyed it various colours, but during the previous twelve months, she’d read an article about toxins in hair dye and had stopped. Now the last application was almost out and it was a pretty palette of greys and whites. She was slimmer than Ottilie, which she had always been too, petite and almost fragile looking now she was older. The trousers she was wearing looked a little too big around the hips, but they were stylish.
‘Been to the church jumble sale recently?’ Ottilie asked.
‘Oh yes, actually,’ Francine said. She smoothed a hand down the front of her trousers. ‘Picked these up yesterday. They’re a good brand, hardly worn. And the curtains too.’
‘They look nice,’ Ottilie said. ‘The trousers and the curtains.’
‘I thought it was time for a refresh. Do you want a drink? Something to eat?’ She ran a critical gaze over her daughter. ‘You look like you’ve lost weight. I hope you’re not skipping meals like you used to at the hospital.’
‘We always sit down together for lunch at the surgery. Trust me, I’m eating more than enough.’
‘I can’t think why you look thinner then.’
‘I don’t think I am.’
‘Shall I make us a sandwich before we go to the cemetery? You might get hungry while we’re out. I’ve got some tuna in. The bread’s fresh.’
‘I can wait. I’d rather go now and eat later.’
Francine looked as if she might argue but then nodded. ‘I’ll get my coat.’
Ottilie was glad her mum was taking fresh flowers regularly. Josh’s grave was well tended and looked well loved, although there was guilt too, that her life these days made it hard for her to come. It almost felt as if she was betraying Josh, though she was sure he’d never have seen it that way.
‘They look nice,’ she said, adding her own to a spare vase. ‘Thanks for picking them up for me.’
‘I thought it would save time.’ Francine peered closely at her. ‘You don’t look well to me. A bit pale.’
‘Thanks,’ Ottilie said with a half laugh. ‘It’s nice to know I can rely on my mum to make me feel good about myself.’
‘I didn’t mean anything by it, but you do look tired. If I can’t tell you, who can?’
‘It’s been hectic.’
‘With your half-sister?’
‘With a lot of things,’ Ottilie said, still wondering if telling her mum the whole saga about Fion and Damien had been the right thing to do. ‘Heath and I have been talking…’ she continued, wondering if this was a good idea too. ‘We might be coming back to Manchester.’
Francine stared at her. ‘I thought you loved it where you are? You said it was your forever home.’
‘It was, but things have changed. Heath’s working his notice so he can take his promotion, and I’ve had a job offer at the hospital here, and things have been…well, they’re not the same as they used to be.’
‘I’d love to have you back,’ Francine said. ‘As long as you’re sure it would make you happier.’
‘You don’t think it will?’
‘I don’t know. I hear how you talk about it. When you first went, I was devastated, but as time went on, I could see how good it was for you. I would hate to think you’d stop and take a breath in a year or so and realise you’d made the wrong choice.’
‘Of course I’m going to miss it, but I think it’s the right choice. It’s the most practical one, in any case.’
‘Yes,’ Francine said wryly, ‘because practical always makes us happy, doesn’t it?’