Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
The following morning Ottilie’s car had struggled up the muddy path to Hilltop Farm, so she’d given up and left it down at the bottom, choosing to walk up to the farmhouse. Ultimately, it would probably be a more efficient way to get there, even if in reality it was slower.
Hilltop was another one of her home visits, though this one was daily and in more of an unofficial capacity. It was more run-down than Daffodil Farm where Victor and Corrine lived with their family and a herd of alpaca that were almost like family too. But where Victor and Corrine had a large family and a mostly happy and warm home, poor Ann, now the sole owner of the farm since her husband died, had a more isolated and lonely existence, made more difficult still by the fact she struggled to care for Darryl, her grown-up son who had severe learning difficulties.
As she walked, she sent a quick text to Lavender.
Really sorry but I might be a couple of minutes late this morning. Up at Hilltop with Darryl. If you could stall the first couple of patients I’d love you forever. X
Lavender sent a thumbs-up emoji to show she’d got the message. Ottilie guessed that she might be too busy to reply with anything more.
Ottilie knocked once at the front door of the farmhouse and then let herself in. Ann and Darryl were used to her visits now to check on them and knew exactly what time to expect her, so they’d started to leave the door open with the invitation to let herself in. And the visits really were to check more than anything else. Ottilie wanted to make sure Darryl took his diabetic medication – he’d often been difficult about that in the past – and besides, she enjoyed chatting to Ann.
Ann was at the stove cooking bacon. The smell filled the air of the low-ceilinged kitchen and set Ottilie’s stomach gurgling.
‘Morning!’ Ann called over to Ottilie. ‘You’re just in time!’
‘Someone’s very lucky today!’ Ottilie said to Darryl, who was poring over the train book she’d bought him the previous year. It was always open at the breakfast table whenever Ottilie arrived.
Darryl looked up with a goofy grin. He was almost twenty-one now, too big for his skin, all elbows and knees and hair. He wore a permanent look of anxiety, but that was only an outward thing. Ottilie knew him well now and knew that inside he was content with his life, however constrained it might seem to others.
‘Ottilie!’
‘Morning, Darryl. Had your insulin?’
He nodded and then bent right back to his book.
‘Everything all right this morning?’ Ottilie went over to Ann at the stove.
‘With Darryl? Yes, good as gold,’ Ann said, smiling. ‘Apart from that, my bank account is still empty, but what can you do about that, eh? We’ve got a roof and we’ve got food, so I’ve stopped complaining about the rest.’
Ottilie gave a sympathetic smile. She’d seen Ann’s struggles first-hand over the past few months and she admired her stoicism in the face of them. That didn’t stop her from feeling desperately sorry for her, though. ‘He’s had his medication?’
‘No fuss today. Probably because he knew you were coming. He’s been so much better since you started to call in of a morning. Want a sandwich?’ she added.
‘Not sure I have time, though it smells amazing.’
‘I can give you one for the road.’
‘It’s all right. I can grab?—’
‘Don’t be daft! It’ll only take me a minute. Can you stay for a cup of tea?’
‘Sorry, but I’ve had to walk up today, so it might take me a bit longer to get to work, so I’d better not.’
Ann nodded as she flipped the bacon over. ‘That reminds me, not sure if you’re interested, but I’ve come across an old bike in the barn. Wondered if it might be of use to you for your visits.’
‘Where did that come from?’
‘Oh…’ Ann’s head went down. ‘We used to go cycling, me and Jim. When he died, I couldn’t face going on my own. It’s not rusty or anything – though it might need a bit of a clean – but you’re more than welcome to it. It’s the least we can do for all you’ve done here with Darryl.’
‘Won’t you need it?’
Ann shook her head. ‘I doubt it. Don’t have time to go cycling, even if I wanted to, and it’s not really the same now.’
‘Darryl doesn’t like cycling?’
‘No, he struggles with his balance. And I don’t like to go on my own these days, mostly because I don’t like to leave him. He used to be a lot better when his dad was alive, but as you know…’
Ottilie nodded. She’d already heard the story. Things had taken a turn for the worse when they’d lost Ann’s husband – the farm had got into financial difficulties, and Darryl had struggled to come to terms with his new fatherless life. And poor Ann, who was grieving herself, had been forced to cope with all that on top of her own loss.
‘I haven’t been out on a bike in years,’ Ottilie said.
Ann slid the bacon from the pan onto a slice of bread. ‘Well, the offer’s there if you want it. Don’t want any money for it.’
‘You must have something.’
She shook her head. ‘Wouldn’t hear of it. Could you use it? If you took it off my hands, you’d be doing me a favour really, because I could do with the room in the barn.’
Ottilie was tempted. Having a bike would save taking her car out on calls. It would save money on petrol and having to drive out to get it so often. Thimblebury didn’t have a garage, so the nearest one was on the road out of the village, and it was a pain sometimes to go up there when she had so much else to do. It might be fun, too, to whizz around on a bike. She pictured herself in a flapping navy coat and a white cap and a basket on the front with her leather treatment bag in it, like someone from a fifties TV drama, and the mental image made her want to laugh. Heath would find it hilarious, no doubt, too.
‘I might take you up on that,’ she said finally. ‘Thank you, that’s so kind. I couldn’t take it with me now, but perhaps tomorrow?’
‘That’s all right – give me a chance to clean it up a bit for you.’
‘There’s no need.’
Ann put a lid on the sandwich and took it to Darryl, tapping him lightly on the arm to let him know his breakfast was there. Then she cut some more slices from a loaf and began to make a second sandwich. ‘Do you have sauce on your bacon?’
Ottilie shook her head. She decided it was pointless to argue because Ann would probably clean the bike anyway.
As Ann made her sandwich, Ottilie went over to Darryl.
‘How are you this morning?’
Darryl looked up from his book, his mouth full of bacon and bread. ‘I’ve had my insulin.’
‘Yes, that’s good. What are you up to today?’
‘Cleaning the barn with Mum.’
‘Ah, that explains the bike. Is there a lot to clean up?’
He looked a bit perplexed and then to his mum, seemingly to seek the answer to Ottilie’s question.
‘It’s not too bad,’ Ann called over, ‘but it’s been a job that’s needed to be done for a good while. There’s an old car Jim was putting back together which I’ll probably sell. Would have fetched a lot more if he’d finished it, but still.’
‘What sort of car?’
‘I don’t know – I never took an interest. One of those old and collectable types. I had wondered if Dr Cheadle might be interested. Her husband’s into all that old stuff, isn’t he?’
‘I don’t really know.’ Ottilie took the sandwich Ann had made and wrapped for her with a grateful smile. ‘I could ask her when I get to work if you like.’
‘Would you? I don’t know her all that well. Not sure how to approach her with a question like that. She’s a bit…’ Ann shrugged.
‘A bit what?’ Ottilie asked.
‘A bit scary.’
Ottilie laughed. ‘Really? God, is that how she comes across?’
‘Don’t you think so? She’s so stern and always seems like she’s in a rush to be somewhere else.’
If Ann made a habit of trying to catch Fliss Cheadle during her off-duty hours to ask health-related questions, then she could well believe that. Fliss made no secret of how annoying she found it to constantly be on call even when she was trying to go about her daily life.
‘Don’t you think so?’ Ann asked again. ‘I’d be nervous to work for her.’
‘No, she’s lovely when you get used to her. Underneath that scary tiger exterior is a fluffy kitten.’
Ann looked doubtful.
‘Honestly,’ Ottilie said.
Ann turned off the stove and winced.
‘Are you all right?’ Ottilie asked.
‘I’ve got this pain in my back. It’s nothing… Flares up every now and again.’
‘What kind of pain?’ Ottilie asked.
‘Oh, it’s here…’ Ann rubbed at a spot more on her side than her back.
‘Any other symptoms?’ Ottilie asked gently. ‘Can I have a look?’
‘I felt a bit weird this morning,’ Ann said. ‘Nothing too bad.’
Ottilie put a hand to the spot, but she couldn’t feel anything. ‘What kind of weird?’
‘I don’t know…I can’t really describe it.’
‘No fever or sickness?’
‘No…I mean, I’m not sure. I’m exhausted and feeling a bit strange. What do you think it is?’
‘I don’t know. Are you otherwise well?’
‘It only started this morning. Like I said, I felt a bit weird but haven’t been sick or had a fever or anything. Should I go to see Dr Cheadle? I suppose I could ask her about the car at the same time.’
Ottilie gave a wry smile. ‘See how you get on this morning and if anything develops, you probably ought to make an appointment. Not sure about the car sales, though – she might not appreciate that during your consultation. If you’re really worried, or you think you’re deteriorating quicker than she can see you, then you can phone me and I’ll get you an emergency slot.’
‘You’re so good to us,’ Ann said. ‘Thank you, I will.’
‘Right…I’d better go.’ Ottilie held up the sandwich. ‘Thanks for this – I haven’t had breakfast yet, so this is going to go down nicely.’
‘You don’t eat properly’ Ann said. ‘It’s a wonder you don’t fade away.’
‘With these hips?’ Ottilie laughed. ‘I’ve got enough padding here to see me through an apocalypse!’
‘Don’t be daft – you have a lovely figure. I wish I still looked like that.’
‘You do – you’re too hard on yourself. Anyway, I must dash. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’
‘And we’ll have the bike ready for you,’ Ann said.
Ottilie bid a distracted Darryl goodbye and closed the door of the farmhouse behind her.
She was about to unwrap her sandwich and eat it on the walk back to her car when her phone bleeped a notification. It was a text from Lavender, and it was then she noticed she had half a dozen missed calls from the surgery receptionist that she hadn’t heard come through because she’d been talking to Ann. Perhaps there’d been a problem putting off her early patients. With a vague frown she dialled the number, but there was no answer.
Weird. Lavender always answered during surgery open hours, and if she had to leave her desk she usually took the phone with her.
Ottilie opened the text and froze as she read it. And then she started to run down the hill, sandwich and mud forgotten as she raced to her car.