Chapter Twenty-Seven
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
In the month since she’d last seen Heath, Ottilie had kept herself busier than ever. While she was occupied she didn’t have to think about what she might have lost. He’d always said her schedule was too packed to fit him in, and now she was making it so. This had been her decision and this was how it had to be.
He’d phoned a few times, wanting to talk it through, and while she’d listened she hadn’t been convinced by a single thing he’d said that her decision had been the wrong one. Flo had marched round demanding she take him back, full of tales of his misery, telling Ottilie she’d never forgive her, expressing amazement and confusion as to how Ottilie could think anything was Heath’s fault. Ottilie tried to explain as best she could but soon realised there was no point because Flo wasn’t listening. It pained her to lose Flo’s friendship, but once Flo realised she wasn’t going to change Ottilie’s mind it became another casualty of Mila’s scheming, because Flo stopped speaking to Ottilie entirely, even crossing the street to avoid her.
Other people were more supportive, even if they didn’t quite understand it. Stacey thought Ottilie had gone mad and said so. She could see why Ottilie might want to tear a strip off Heath, but to end things completely – that she couldn’t see. Fliss had made no comment on the situation other than to tell Ottilie that she could take whatever time she needed to get her head straight in the aftermath, and although she appreciated the gesture, Ottilie didn’t take any time off because that wasn’t what she needed. Lavender had heard the news and simply said what a shame she thought it was, but not much else, which was surprising for someone who loved a drama as much as she did. Perhaps she could see how much pain Ottilie was keeping inside and was afraid if she pushed, she might unleash something she wouldn’t be able to put back. Ann, Corrine and Victor uttered words of sympathy, but there wasn’t a lot else they could say, and so conversation with them quickly returned to the usual topics and Ottilie was glad about that. The people who seemed most upset were Magnus and Geoff, who both looked as if they wanted to scoop Ottilie up into desperate hugs every time she went into their shop for a pint of milk.
So life had been a thankfully endless round of work, visits, volunteering and sleep, and although Ottilie longed for Heath in every spare second, she’d ensured there weren’t too many of them to be had. When she walked in the hills she made sure she had company to take her mind off him, and if she went into town she went on the bus to make sure there were people all around her to take her mind off him, and when she visited or volunteered or worked, she made sure every conversation at those places avoided anything that might take her thoughts to him. Not only that, but she’d been recruited to help with the harvest festival and was busy fetching donations of food and money whenever they were offered and planning for the huge celebration at the community kitchen where she and the other usual volunteers would cook a slap-up dinner for everyone.
The summer days began to lengthen, rushing towards the season’s end and bringing the harvest festival ever closer. These were the days she’d have been out on her newly renovated bicycle, given to her by Ann at Hilltop Farm and cleaned up by Victor at Daffodil Farm. Heath would have been with her on his – they’d talked about it before. Perhaps they’d have followed trails that hugged one of the vast, glittering lakes that drew people from far and wide to the district, a heat haze on the road and the lazy buzzing of bees in the wildflower hedgerows. Perhaps they’d have stopped for a picnic, lying on the peppery grass of a hill with the sun on their faces, side by side, smiling up at the sky. They might even have trekked the path to the hillside waterfall, the rockpool Flo had taken Ottilie to the year before, the one Flo had swum in as a girl and where Heath had come to rescue them when Flo had fallen ill. Perhaps they’d have taken a dip themselves, the rushing water crystal clear and shockingly cold, laughing as it took their breath away and stripped the heavy summer heat from their limbs.
Instead, Ottilie was working in a stuffy office, or helping out in a furnace-like kitchen with her clothes sticking to her, red-faced and a permanent sheen of sweat on her brow, or sitting in Fliss’s shaded kitchen listening to her complain about this thing or that thing that happened at the surgery, or else surrounded by fractious and tetchy babies in the baking room where the mother and child group was held.
She was there on one particularly hot day, watching a bluebottle constantly missing a wide-open window as one of the mums tried to shoo it out when Stacey’s voice interrupted her musings.
‘What’s that?’ Ottilie turned to Stacey and shook herself awake again.
‘The barbecue. Saturday afternoon is supposed to be good weather so I thought I’d do one. Can you come?’
‘I think so. Who else is coming?’
‘Well, that’s the point – Chloe is bringing her boyfriend. Apparently, they’re a thing now. Before they were “talking”’ – she crooked her fingers into the air in speech marks as she said the word – ‘whatever that means. I said to her, you’re either going out or you’re not, but apparently, it’s not like that now. Couples “talk” for a bit before they do anything else. What was wrong with meeting a fella, having a date and then being an item? Nowadays it’s like a raft of interviews for a job. You have to “talk” to them, and then you’re sort of seeing them but even then you’re not an item.’
‘So when does that come?’
‘God knows! I don’t think there’s an actual rule, only when one of them says they’re a thing then they are. Anyway, Chloe says they’re a thing and she’s bringing him over.’
‘Wow, she must like him.’ Ottilie pushed her damp fringe back from her forehead.
‘That’s what I thought. So I figured a barbecue might be a nice way to get to know him without it being too intense.’
‘Won’t it be intense if half the village is there inspecting him?’
‘More intense than if the three of us are sitting around a table while I ask him questions that look as if I’m trying to interrogate him and Chloe glares at me and hisses for me to shut up?’
‘Since you put it that way,’ Ottilie said with a soft laugh.
‘This way, even though there are a lot more new people for him to meet, he’s not the focus of attention. We can get to know him but there will be other stuff going on too, and if they want to blend into the background a bit then they can do that more easily. Plus there’ll be loads of help on hand for Mackenzie, and he loves company these days.’
Ottilie nodded. ‘He does seem to be turning into a little social butterfly, doesn’t he? Takes after his grandma.’
‘He definitely doesn’t take after his moody mum,’ Stacey said, sending a fond look at Mackenzie, who was sitting on one of the play mats, staring intently at a picture book with textured pages. ‘But he’s the best thing that ever happened to us, even if we had lots of doubts before he was born. I couldn’t imagine life without him now.’
‘I bet. He is adorable. You’re asking everyone in the village or keeping it to close friends?’
‘I thought I’d ask Simon too.’
Stacey flushed, and the fact didn’t escape Ottilie. How those two weren’t a couple yet was a mystery for the greatest minds of the age, because anyone could see they fancied each other like mad and got along famously too.
‘And of course,’ she added, as if to take the heat out of the situation, ‘some other people. I expect I’ll ask most of the film club.’
‘Most?’
‘I can’t…well, I can’t very well ask Flo in the circumstances, can I?’
‘You can ask her if you want to. I doubt she’d come – not once she finds out I’m going to be there, anyway. She’s barely a member of the film club these days; she never comes and I think that’s down to me. In fact, I know it’s down to me. I feel a bit bad about it, really.’
‘It’s her choice. She’s the one making it weird, so don’t feel bad. Relationships come to an end and there’s no point in being petty about it. Nobody promised marriage at the end for you and Heath, but she seemed to think the moment you got together it was a given. It’s a silly and childish way to look at things.’
‘Well, I don’t have a problem with you asking her.’
‘I’ll probably ask Lavender and Dr Cheadle and Charles too, though I doubt those two will come.’
‘Lavender will – try keeping her away from a party.’
‘It’s not really a party. It’s a few burgers and a couple of drinks in my garden.’
‘Lavender will turn it into a party.’
Stacey grinned. ‘If she wants to I won’t complain. I just don’t want anyone expecting too much.’
‘I think everyone knows the score with this sort of thing. Want me to do any food for it?’
‘You can if you like, but don’t go mad. I’m going to ask Magnus if he can order some meat in from that nice butcher in Kendal. Gets it with a decent discount so there should be plenty there. Maybe you can do some salad if you really want to, and I’m sure you’d make something whether I said to or not, because I know what you’re like.’
‘I can’t turn up to a thing empty-handed – you know that.’
‘Yes, I know. So you’ll be there.’
‘Sounds lovely. I’m looking forward to meeting Chloe’s boyfriend too. I’m quite surprised she’s agreed to this.’
‘Honestly, so am I. Must be love, eh?’
‘He does sound like a keeper. What’s his name?’
‘Oliver.’
‘Right. I’ll try to remember.’
‘I’m looking forward to it. It’s ages since I’ve had a get-together at our house.’
‘I’m looking forward to it too.’
Stacey raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you?’
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘It’s… nothing.’
‘You think I’m still sad about Heath.’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘A bit, but that doesn’t mean I have to stop living, does it?’
‘No. But still… ‘
‘I’m getting there, Stacey – you don’t have to worry about me.’
‘I do. You’ve made this village bearable since you got here. You’ve been such a good friend and I worry that I’m not as good to you.’
Ottilie smiled and gave her a brief hug. ‘You’re brilliant. With a friend like you, who needs a man, eh?’
Pushing a smile across her face, Ottilie wanted to believe her own words, but even after all these weeks, she still found it hard. She missed Heath and she thought about him all the time, and she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever be able to stop.
The sun was still high as Ottilie arrived for the barbecue with a basket of potato salad, home-made coleslaw and guacamole dip, but Stacey’s garden was north-facing and so shaded by the back walls of her house. It was a welcome relief from the fierceness of the heat, and while Stacey complained that in the cloudier seasons it meant she got hardly any sun at the back, today it made the temperature bearable. It was a far neater, more manicured garden than Ottilie’s own, with a square lawn and a decked patio area, dotted with pots containing tidy shrubs. She’d scattered cushions and deckchairs about the newly mown grass for people to sit, and already almost every one of them was occupied.
Ottilie waved hello to Magnus and Geoff, Lavender and her husband, and Simon, who was talking to Chloe while she did her best to hold on to a wriggling Mackenzie. Ottilie smiled at that – it seemed Chloe was finally opening up. She’d been closed and moody when Ottilie had first met her, a teenager struggling to come to terms with the adult world and the huge responsibility she was about to have thrust upon her, but over the past few months since Mackenzie’s birth Ottilie had watched her grow and even thrive. Motherhood suited her, and the fact that she had such amazing support and had now found what sounded like a lovely boy definitely must have helped.
‘Want me to take those to the kitchen until we’re ready?’ Stacey asked, holding out her hands for the basket. She peered inside. ‘I knew you’d go mad and make too much.’
‘What we don’t eat today I’m sure someone can finish tomorrow. Or I can take it into work for lunch on Monday. It won’t get wasted either way.’ Ottilie nodded at Chloe and Simon, and Stacey smiled.
‘She really likes him. I suppose it’s because he pays so much attention to Mackenzie.’
‘It’s good she likes him whatever the reason.’
Stacey turned to her with a puzzled look that wasn’t really puzzled at all. Ottilie could see through the innocent act and she nudged her with a grin. ‘Don’t tell me you and him still haven’t worked out how perfect a couple you’d be. And now you’ve more or less got Chloe’s seal of approval, I really don’t know what you’re waiting for.’
‘Him,’ Stacey said flatly.
Ottilie frowned. ‘This is the twenty-first century, right? You can make the first move, can’t you?’
‘I could, but with my track record I daren’t. What if I’ve got it wrong? What if he’s only being friendly?’
Ottilie raised her eyebrows. ‘Seriously? It’s obvious!’
‘Then why…’ Stacey lowered her voice and leaned in. ‘Why hasn’t he asked me? It’s like waiting for Godot! What’s he playing at?’
‘Maybe you should ask him.’
‘Are you nuts? I’m not going to do that!’
‘I’ll ask him then.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Stacey hissed, and Ottilie had to laugh. ‘That would be mortifying. You might as well pass a note along the garden asking him to meet me behind the bike sheds at break.’
‘Well, if that’s what it takes…’
‘That’s it – you’re leaving. Out!’
Ottilie’s laughter grew. ‘All right, all right. I won’t say a word to him, but I think it’s about time you did. I know he likes you.’
‘How?’
‘He practically told me so.’
‘Are you sure? The “practically” bit has me worried. Categorically is what I want to hear, not practically.’
‘I’m as sure as I can be, but there’s only one way to find out, and you know that.’
Stacey was thoughtful for a moment but then shook her head. ‘No. I’m not doing it. I couldn’t look at him again if he said no to me. Imagine having piles or whatever and having to go and see him at the surgery knowing what had happened? As if piles wasn’t bad enough on its own…’
Ottilie’s laughter was so loud at this that everyone in the garden halted their conversation and turned to look.
‘Sorry,’ she snorted. ‘The mental image. I just can’t…’
She was laughing so hard she didn’t notice the gate opening and a newcomer entering the garden. But Stacey did, and she suddenly looked anxious. Ottilie’s laughter died at the sight and she turned to look at what could have bothered her friend, only to see Flo standing by the gate with a cling-film-covered plate.
‘I thought I’d come along after all,’ she said, clearly talking to Stacey but looking at Ottilie. ‘That’s if you actually meant to invite me.’
‘I asked, didn’t I?’ Stacey went over. ‘Of course it was an invite. It’d be pretty silly to ask if I didn’t want you to come.’
‘But people do that, don’t they? I’ll ask such and such because I have to and they won’t come anyway.’
‘Not in this case. Let me take that plate from you.’
‘It’s chips,’ Flo said, handing it over. ‘I made too many for my tea last night.’
Stacey took the plate with a vaguely confused look. ‘Thank you,’ she said, though she was probably thinking the same thing as Ottilie, that she had no clue why anyone would bring leftover chips to a barbecue, and that unless someone performed some kind of culinary miracle they’d probably taste disgusting by now.
As Stacey took Ottilie’s basket and Flo’s random plate of chips to the kitchen, Flo made a beeline for Ottilie.
‘Hello,’ Ottilie said. ‘How have you been keeping?’
‘As well as can be expected in the circumstances.’
Ottilie didn’t ask what those circumstances were. She didn’t want to ruin this by reminding Flo of why she’d been avoiding her; she was only glad that finally Flo had seen fit to be somewhere she knew Ottilie would be and she was willing to talk to her.
‘That’s good,’ Ottilie said. She was casting around for something else to say when Flo jumped into the gap.
‘Didn’t see the point in us being at odds any longer. What’s done is done. Heath’s all right now. He’s getting on with things.’
‘Is he?’
‘Knows he did wrong and there’s no way back. He’s made his peace with that, he says.’
‘Oh.’
Ottilie was blindsided by the idea that Heath was already over her. It sounded as if that was what Flo was trying to say. She didn’t know how she felt about that. On the one hand, it made things simpler, but on the other, the notion saddened her. Had she really meant so little to him? It had been only weeks since they’d broken up and, while she didn’t want to hear he was suffering, she perhaps wanted to know that it had taken some getting over.
Ottilie wondered if he might even try to get back with Mila. Surely not? But where Heath was concerned, she couldn’t be certain of anything.
Ottilie suddenly felt silly for ever imagining that Heath might still have feelings for Mila. Had that been a factor in her decision to end things? She hated to admit it, but perhaps unconsciously it had been. Of course, Mila had caused enough trouble – even who she was related to was trouble enough – but Ottilie had been plagued by the idea that Heath hadn’t quite got over her. Had it clouded her judgement? Perhaps, but even so, it was too late to do anything about it now. Even if Ottilie wanted to try again, it sounded as if Heath had moved on from her too.
Her attention was caught by Chloe leaping up from her seat next to Simon and racing to the garden gate. There stood a young man, with short dark hair and very blue eyes, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that looked too big for him, the nerves as he surveyed the gathering obvious in his face.
This had to be Oliver, and Chloe confirmed it by squealing his name as she flew over to the gate.
‘I thought you’d chickened out!’ she continued as she unfastened the gate for him. He gave an uncertain shrug, his eyes everywhere. Ottilie didn’t blame him because everyone was looking and he must have felt as if he was being scrutinised like a lab specimen.
Once in the garden and the gate closed again, Chloe wasted no time taking him to meet her mum inside. Ottilie could see them having a conversation through the kitchen window. It looked to be going well – at least, there was a lot of nervous smiling going on. Then she brought him outside, straight to Ottilie, who was nearest the house.
‘This is Ottilie,’ Chloe said. ‘She’s the one I told you about, who helped me have Mackenzie.’
At this, Oliver seemed awed as he said hello, and a warm kick of pride grew in Ottilie. Chloe had never appeared to feel they shared a bond over Mackenzie’s birth, as she’d done – certainly, she’d never voiced it – but perhaps she’d only been too inward-looking and shy to say so.
‘This is Ollie,’ Chloe said to Ottilie and then, as a cursory acknowledgement, to Flo too.
‘That’s going to be confusing if you’re hard of hearing,’ Flo said.
‘What?’ Chloe asked.
‘Ollie and Ottilie in the same room. It’s a good job Mildred Icke isn’t here.’
Ottilie smiled at the reference to the bane of her working life. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Whatever.’ Chloe shook her head. ‘Anyway, I’ll be back in a minute. Just got to get Mackenzie from Simon. Come on…’
She grabbed Oliver by the hand and led him to where Simon was doing his best to keep Mackenzie entertained, though he seemed to be losing the battle. Mackenzie might have been a lot more sociable these days, but when his mum was around, he only really had eyes for her and didn’t take his gaze from Chloe the whole time she was talking to Ottilie and Flo. At their approach, his arms went into the air. Chloe swept him into her embrace, and his little face was immediately one huge smile.
‘That lad’s got his work cut out,’ Flo said.
‘Oliver? Oh, I don’t know,’ Ottilie replied. ‘He seems a bit smitten. Nothing’s hard work when love is all new, is it?’
‘I dare say it’s so far back for me I can’t remember. You’d know that better than me.’
Ottilie turned to look. The statement had sounded barbed, but there was no malice on Flo’s face as she watched Chloe introduce Oliver to Simon. The GP shook him warmly by the hand and they struck up a far easier conversation than the one he’d had with Ottilie. In fact, it was one more way in which Simon seemed to fit into this family. Ottilie was growing tired of waiting for him or Stacey to do something about it, and if they didn’t soon, she might just break her own rules and start interfering.
She was glad for Chloe, though. Oliver seemed sweet and absolutely taken by her, and considering how badly Chloe had been treated by Mackenzie’s father, she’d earned that affection twenty times over. Ottilie hoped that life was going to be kind to her from now on.
‘Drinks, you two?’
Ottilie turned to see Stacey behind her. ‘Want me to do those? You’ve got your hands full with the food about now, haven’t you?’
‘Actually, Simon has offered to man the grill.’
‘Ah…’ Ottilie broke into a slow smile and Stacey blushed again. ‘I’m sure he has. Anything to get into your good books, eh?’
‘Stop it!’ Stacey said, but she was laughing. ‘You’re terrible.’
‘And you’re slow. Stop messing around – the suspense is killing everyone.’
‘What?’ Flo looked between the two of them, and Stacey shook her head.
‘Nothing, Flo. What do you want to drink?’
Ottilie turned back to where Simon was still chatting to Oliver. She wasn’t joking – the suspense was killing her if nobody else. And if she couldn’t have her happy ending, perhaps it might be nice to make it happen for her best friend.
In the end, alcohol did what Ottilie had wanted to. They were well into the evening, and the barbecue had lasted longer and been more raucous than anyone had anticipated. Simon had done a brilliant job of looking after the grill while Stacey played hostess, and Chloe had encouraged Oliver to come out of his shell. Ottilie, for a short while at least, had forgotten the tough few weeks she’d had and made the most of the moment.
The embers of the barbecue coals were dying and there was litter all over the place, the remains of meals that nobody had yet cleared away. Stacey had decided to put some music on and had started to dance, soon joined by Lavender, who dragged a protesting Simon from his seat. But then Stacey helped her and they got him to his feet, and as he shuffled awkwardly, the track changed to a slower one, and as the pace slowed the heat seemed to rise. Stacey and Simon grew closer, as if magnetised, as if everyone else in the garden had disappeared and it was only those two. They didn’t kiss, but they were so close that it was painfully intimate. Ottilie felt she had to look away to give them a moment. But when she turned back, they’d both gone inside.
She could see them now through the kitchen window. They were talking, still close, and Stacey was smiling like it would split her face if it grew any wider. And then he leaned in and kissed her gently, and Ottilie looked away again, a smile almost as big as Stacey’s pulling at her own cheeks. It looked as if they’d figured things out at last, and nothing could have made Ottilie gladder at that moment. She wished them luck – better luck than she’d had with Heath. But somehow she felt they didn’t need it. If she could be certain about the future of any couple, it had to be them. Something about them told her they were going to go the distance.
She noticed Chloe had seen them go inside and was watching the kitchen window too, and then she caught her eye and smiled. Chloe returned it. It seemed she approved too.