Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The day had been strange and difficult after Heath’s admission. Ottilie had tried hard to let go of it, and she suspected Heath was overcompensating for his mistake – at least, the one he thought he’d made, though she felt that for her to call it a mistake was unfair – and it only made things worse. They’d forced jollity and affection over lunch, and thank God salmon wasn’t on the menu. In the afternoon Ottilie had decided it might be a good idea to give him some distance and so had booked herself into some extra treatment sessions while he went into the gym.
As she lay with her eyes closed, having lotions and potions applied to her face, she ought to have been more relaxed than ever, but her mind was teeming. She and Heath had been seeing each other for four months now, and yet she was reminded on a daily basis – and never more than this day – that four months was still very new and uncertain. She’d taken for granted when Josh had been around how easy married life was. Not easy in the sense that they never argued or that they never encountered difficulties, but easy in the sense that they knew each other’s souls in a way that only years together can do. She’d look at Josh and she’d know what he was thinking. She could see when he needed company and when he needed alone time, when he needed consoling and when he needed to brood. She knew the things that would hurt him if she did them, and he understood her in exactly the same way. Sometimes they thought exactly the same thing at the same time and an explanation was seldom needed.
She couldn’t remember them getting to that point. It had seemed like a natural progression too subtle to notice, and yet it must have been exactly like this with Josh in the beginning. Looking at things now with Heath, it also felt like it would be a long time before she got to that point with him, and the mechanics of that journey were laid out so plainly that she felt daunted by it. Could they do this? She had no doubt that she wanted to go the distance with Heath, but wanting and achieving were two very different things.
Ottilie had also wanted to ask him whether he knew Mila had been trying to contact Flo again. He hadn’t mentioned it, though she realised now that him not mentioning it didn’t mean anything. It would have been a difficult conversation, but far easier than it would have been before Mila had thrown her shadow over their day. It would seem as if Ottilie was on a special vendetta, out for some kind of character assassination rather than genuine concern for Flo’s well-being. And it was genuine, as was the need to understand how Mila still fitted into Heath’s life. No matter how he denied it, how many times he told Ottilie that he didn’t think about her, the fact was she had a past with him which inevitably still had some effect on his present and would probably continue to influence his decisions into his future. That much was obvious, even if Heath chose not to believe it.
Ottilie was also convinced that their encounter at the restaurant wasn’t the last time they’d ever run into her. If nothing else, it seemed Mila would make sure of that. Her enjoyment of the moment, of Heath’s obvious discomfort, of causing such emotional chaos had been written all over her face that day. And from what Ottilie had heard, she wasn’t the sort of woman to give that sort of sport up easily.
They’d chatted all the way home in the car, but for all the good humour, it had felt forced. Heath had come inside for a drink but didn’t stay long, announcing that he had an early start in the morning and needed to get a good night’s sleep. So Ottilie kissed him goodbye and was left to watch television alone, trying to follow the plot of a thriller, but really her mind was taking her back over and over the events of the day, more and more mortified at her own behaviour and more confused about Heath’s with each visit.
Ottilie had just made her morning call to Hilltop Farm and was pleased to see Ann making good progress and all calm with Darryl. It was also exciting to have the promised bicycle ready for collection. She’d taken a sneaky turn around the farmyard on it and was looking forward to picking it up later after work and going out for a ride. And she was still munching on a doorstop of toast with jam Ann had made from her own strawberry crop when she arrived at the surgery and Lavender almost leaped over the reception desk to greet her.
‘Fliss is in with Simon again!’
Ottilie crammed the last corner of toast into her mouth. ‘Is she?’
‘She was here really early.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because she was here when I got here, and I was early.’
‘Hmm…’ Ottilie dropped the greaseproof paper her toast had been in into the bin behind the reception desk and leaned across to look at a patient list showing on the screen. ‘Well, whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll hear about it later.’
‘How can you be so calm about it?’
Ottilie looked up. ‘There’s no point in being anything else, is there? What are we meant to do? Listen at the keyhole?’
Lavender grinned. ‘There’s an idea!’
‘You’re welcome to try.’ Ottilie laughed lightly as she unbuttoned her coat. ‘I’ll wait until Fliss or Simon are ready to tell us. It might not even be anything to do with us anyway.’
‘It is – I feel it in my bones.’
‘You want to see a doctor about that,’ Ottilie replied as she went through to her own office. She could still hear Lavender laughing as she closed the door and switched on her computer.
Ottilie was in no doubt that Lavender had a point – Fliss was in early, and they knew she’d been deliberating her future at the surgery. There was a good chance that this morning’s meeting was a follow-on from that, but though Ottilie was dying to know as much as Lavender was, there was no point in speculating.
The clinic had been a gruelling one and it had overrun, as it seemed to do a lot these days. Ottilie could have sworn Lavender was sneaking extra patients onto her list and not telling her, because the flow seemed to be never-ending. Much of it was blood-pressure checks, breathing tests, diet progress, wound dressing and other routine things that Ottilie could do with her eyes closed, but now and again one of her patients would throw her a curveball, making an appointment for a routine thing and then dropping something more challenging into the visit. This morning she’d been invited to examine some unexpected haemorrhoids, and a bunion so big it needed its own extra shoe. She’d no sooner seen Mrs Icke off than Fliss popped her head around the door.
‘Are you free for a moment?’
‘Of course!’ Ottilie went to give her a brief hug. ‘How is everything? How’s Charles doing?’
‘Really well actually. The cardiologist is pleased, though he’s complaining like mad that I won’t let him go back to work yet.’
‘That sounds good then. So…I’m guessing this is not a social call?’
Fliss stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. ‘Nothing gets past you, does it? No, it’s not. Well, there is a social element to it and there is business too. It’s sort of all connected if you like.’
‘Right.’
‘I’ve come to a decision about my retirement.’
‘I thought as much.’ Ottilie offered Fliss a seat, but the GP shook her head.
‘I won’t keep you. Much as I want to tell you all about it I am aware that now’s not the best time. I’ve mentioned it to Lavender and she’s amenable, so I wanted to ask if you could come also. I was thinking about cooking dinner one evening this week. The soonest everyone is free. If we must discuss it, we might as well do it over some good food.’
‘That sounds good.’
‘So when are you free?’
‘For something this important I can be free any night you like. Has Lavender got a preference?’
‘Lavender says her diary is fairly empty too, and Simon will stay behind if needs be. In fact, they’re both free tonight if you are?’
‘I mean, yes, but does that give you enough time to cook?’
‘I was thinking Italian. I’ve got what I need in for a rustic pasta dish, if you don’t mind slumming it.’
‘It’ll hardly be slumming it if you’re cooking,’ Ottilie said with a smile. ‘Tonight sounds brilliant. Might as well get it off your chest as soon as you’re able, eh?’
‘Then we’ll all know where we are going forward, won’t we? Seven suit you? Don’t want to keep Simon here too late as he’ll be driving back to Liverpool afterwards.’
‘Seven is perfect. I’ll see you then.’
Ottilie had finished work later than she’d meant to. She hated turning up to dinner at someone else’s house empty-handed and had been hoping to throw together some kind of dessert or side dish but was now running out of time. In fact, she’d be lucky to get a shower and make herself look presentable in the time she had left. Rifling through the cupboard produced a bottle of red and a box of chocolates that she had spare, and at this point they’d have to do.
She’d just put them out to take and was heading up to shower when her phone started to ring.
‘Hi. How’s your day been?’
Heath sounded like he was in a good mood. Ottilie was glad to hear it after their strange day at the spa, but while she didn’t want to put him off, she was in a bit of a rush.
‘Good,’ she said briskly as she raced up the stairs, phone to her ear. ‘Interesting, actually.’
‘Oh?’
‘Fliss has made up her mind.’
‘About her retirement?’
‘Yes. She’s invited us over to talk about it.’
‘You and Lavender?’
‘And Simon.’
‘Simon?’
‘The locum who’s been covering for her. Dr Stokes.’
‘Oh, right! What’s it got to do with him?’
‘Well, I’m not sure yet. There was some talk of asking him if he wanted to stay on. It makes sense, as he’s already used to the surgery now. And he’s looking for a permanent job. Or rather, I think he still is.’
‘And the patients of Thimblebury haven’t managed to put him off yet?’
‘Doesn’t look like it. I mean, I’m only guessing this is how it will go – I have no idea yet. I might be on the wrong track completely.’
‘Right.’
There was a pause. Ottilie was about to explain how much of a hurry she was in when he spoke again.
‘I wanted to clear the air.’
‘Does it need clearing?’ She sat on the side of the bath. ‘What for?’
‘Yesterday at the spa…I didn’t mean to…It was wrong of me not to tell you I’d been there before.’
‘Heath, I thought we’d cleared this up. It’s OK.’
‘But it wasn’t OK, was it? And don’t say it was because I could tell. I should have said something yesterday but…I don’t know…I didn’t want to mess it up or make it worse by saying the wrong thing. Can I come over?’
‘Tonight?’
‘I could be there in an hour and I wouldn’t keep you up late. I just want to?—’
‘I’m sorry. I’m going over to Fliss’s.’
‘Is that tonight?’
‘Didn’t I say?’
‘You said you were going over but you didn’t—I didn’t realise it was tonight.’
‘Yeah. I mean, I could put them off, but…’
‘God, no. This can wait.’
It didn’t sound like it could wait. And now that he’d brought it up, Ottilie realised she wanted this conversation as much as he did, but she’d committed to something else now, and it was too late really to change it without upsetting Fliss and putting everyone else out.
‘I’m sorry. But Fliss is cooking, and Simon has stayed behind from surgery, and?—’
‘No, I get it. I said it could wait.’
Did Ottilie detect the merest hint of impatience in his tone? Or was that in her guilty imagination?
‘Maybe I could phone you back when I’m done there?’
‘It might be late.’
‘It might be, but I could if you think it would help.’
‘I think…’ He paused again. ‘I think I’d prefer to do it face to face. It feels too easy to mess up on the phone.’
Ottilie frowned as she picked the lint from a towel. What was it he needed to say that he could possibly mess up? She was filled with a sudden dread. Surely he wasn’t thinking of ending things? Had their misunderstanding caused that much damage? Surely not?
She shook the notion. He sounded calm enough, if a bit awkward. He didn’t sound like someone who was about to dump her.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean it’s easier to get crossed wires, isn’t it? It’s easier to mistake someone’s tone.’
‘We could FaceTime?’
‘Still…’
‘How about I let you know when I’m home and you decide if it’s too late to FaceTime or not?’
‘Maybe. But it could wait until I see you.’
‘I don’t think it can. I don’t think you can put ideas like this in my head and then make me wait.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Heath…what’s so bad you need to say it in person?’
‘Nothing!’
To her relief, Ottilie could hear humour in his voice now.
‘God, nothing bad!’ he repeated. ‘I just think we need to clear the air. I owe you some explanations, and I’d rather we talk them through in person. Honestly, that’s all it is.’
Sometimes it felt as if they were going backwards. Instead of being more certain as time went on, Ottilie was more confused. She longed for that day when they’d be as comfortable as she’d been with Josh, but she had to wonder, as she tried to work out now what exactly was going on here, whether that day would ever come.
‘I…’ He stalled again, and once again Ottilie was thrown. ‘I get it – you need to be there tonight.’
‘Sorry, but I do. I wish I could…’
She was about to say she wished she could get out of her commitment with Fliss, but actually, why would she say it when it wasn’t true? Why did she feel the need to placate everyone all the time, pretend their needs were more important than hers when they weren’t? People-pleasing Ottilie. Safe, reliable Ottilie. Here she was again, and she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.
‘I could see you tomorrow if you want.’
‘It’s OK; I’ve got a lot on. We’re meant to be going out Thursday anyway, aren’t we? Let’s leave it at that, eh?’
Ottilie nodded, and then realised he couldn’t see it. ‘Yes. If you want.’
Ottilie said goodbye and went back to her shower. She was still unsettled and unhappy with the way they’d left things, but there was no time to think about that now.