Chapter Twenty-Eight
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ottilie handed the prescription to Flo.
Flo eyed it doubtfully. ‘I thought Dr Cheadle was supposed to make these out.’
‘As I told you, I’m allowed to do certain ones. This is fine; it’s only the same as Dr Cheadle would give you, but you’ll get it from me a lot quicker. Think about what I said too. You need to slow down a bit. I know you think you’re invincible but you’re not. Get help with things; get someone to share the load. You know you can always ask me – if I’m not working I’m happy to pick up shopping and things for you.’
‘A day out would be nice,’ Flo said.
Ottilie smiled. She wasn’t green – Flo wanted to be taken out for a daytrip by Ottilie, exactly like they’d done when Ottilie had been new to the village. In fact, Ottilie was pleased. It meant she was forgiven. Flo had put the whole business with her and Heath behind them. Ottilie only wished she could do the same.
The following month would have marked their first anniversary, and as it drew closer, Ottilie found herself thinking of him more and more. To her surprise – because she’d hardly given herself time to admit it – she missed him almost as much as she had in the beginning. But from everything Flo said, it sounded as if he’d forgotten her – or at any rate moved on. She could have contacted him to see how he felt, but she suspected the result would be disappointing and very painful. Perhaps it was best to leave things as they were. In time, she’d get over him, because time saw to all such things in the end.
‘A day out would be nice,’ she agreed. ‘Is that an offer?’
‘If you want,’ Flo sniffed.
‘Kendal? I like Kendal. I liked that little café you took me to last time we were there.’
Flo nodded. ‘If I’ve got time, I suppose we could go there.’
‘Well, when you’ve got time I’d love that,’ Ottilie said, her smile growing. ‘Is there anything else of a health nature you need to ask me about?’
‘Are you throwing me out? Is that my five minutes up?’
‘Kind of. It’s nothing personal, but, you know, there’s a waiting room full of patients and one of them is Mrs Icke.’
‘Oh, her!’ Flo pulled a face. ‘Let her say a single thing while I’m around – I’d give that old bag what for.’
‘While I appreciate you sticking up for me, maybe not in surgery hours. Have your punch-up in the pub at closing time like civilised people do. Before you go, though, are you going to the harvest festival celebration at the community kitchen at the weekend?’
Flo clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. ‘I expect I’ll have to. I don’t know why they have to do it so early, though. It’s barely into October yet.’
‘I think it’s to do with the community centre diary. Still, we’re close enough. I’m not sure the harvest festival has all that much to do with harvests these days.’
‘Like everything else – the true meaning is lost. Take Christmas?—’
‘Sorry, Flo, but…you know, other patients…Perhaps we can have the Christmas chat another time?’
Flo huffed and looked quite put out to be cut off mid-rant, but Ottilie went to open the office door for her anyway.
Grumpy old Flo was back, but if she was honest, it was kind of the way Ottilie liked it. It meant things were getting back to normal.
When Ottilie arrived at the community kitchen, Stacey and Simon were already there, helping Magnus and Geoff set up.
‘What can I do?’ Ottilie asked Magnus, who looked as stressed as she’d ever seen him.
‘Oh, Ottilie, you’re a godsend! Would you be an absolute darling and do the vegetable displays?’
‘Where do you want them?’
‘On the stage. Create’ – he was vague, waving his hands dismissively – ‘something lovely with them.’
Ottilie couldn’t imagine what ‘something lovely’ meant, and she was even harder pressed to imagine that anything she could do with a few sacks of carrots and onions could be seen as lovely. But she went to investigate the crates, sacks and boxes stacked in the corner of the hall anyway to see what could be done.
Relieved to find that in addition to vegetables there were also bundles of straw and baskets and bits of display stand, she set to work trying to make a respectable display.
She was resisting the silly urge to make a rude shape out of carrots and potatoes when Stacey’s voice was at her shoulder.
‘You know you could make something quite entertaining out of those.’
Ottilie turned with a grin. ‘I was thinking the same thing, but I don’t think Magnus would appreciate it.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that; he’s got a sense of humour, even if sometimes it’s hard to see. Perhaps not some of the other villagers, though.’
Ottilie looked across at Magnus and Geoff, who were working together to put garlands of dried flowers along the coving. ‘They seem better. Have they sorted whatever glitch they were having?’
‘Oh, I think so. You know what old married couples are like.’
‘I never think of them like that, but I suppose that’s what they are.’
‘Been together for almost thirty years, so I’d say that counts.’
‘And how about you and Simon?’
‘What about us?’
‘Things seem good.’
‘Has he said anything to you?’
‘Not really. Nothing specific anyway, though I can tell he’s happy.’
‘I’m so glad to hear that. For all my troubles over the years, they’re nothing compared to his. You know about his wife and daughter?’
Ottilie nodded.
‘I can’t even imagine what he went through, and yet I feel as if there’s so much more that he hasn’t told me yet. I think he wants to, but…’
‘It’s early days. I’m sure when he’s ready he’ll tell you.’
‘I hope so. I want us to be at that point where we can share things and he feels he can tell me anything. Like you and Heath—’ Stacey stopped and flushed.
‘It’s all right,’ Ottilie said. ‘I thought Heath and I were at that point, but I suppose I was wrong.’
‘You seemed so good together. Is there really no way you can fix it?’
‘Doesn’t seem as if he wants to.’
‘Perhaps he does but he daren’t contact you. From what you told me, I don’t blame him. He probably feels as if what he did was unforgivable.’
‘And I don’t suppose my reaction helped.’
‘It was a natural one. It seems sad to me that you two had something so good and it was ruined by lots of things out of your control.’
Ottilie was silent for a moment. Had it been good? She’d had her doubts even before the Mila debacle, but perhaps she’d been reading the situation all wrong. Heath hadn’t given her cause to doubt him in the beginning. Now that she thought about it, his behaviour change was probably linked to Mila dreaming up her scheme to help her cousin get off his murder charge and him feeling guilty about it. She ought to have seen it. Instead, she’d lost her patience and proved to him that what he’d thought was right – that he wasn’t worthy.
Did it matter that he’d never told her he loved her? Whether she heard the words or not, what difference did it make? Surely love was shown through deeds, not said with words. Any old fool, any old charlatan could say they loved her, but that didn’t make it true. What made it true was actions. He’d made a stupid mistake covering for Mila but he’d already explained that it had been done out of fear. Ottilie had refused to listen to that too.
Was it too late? It had been so long now Heath would have moved on, wouldn’t he? And rightly so. She’d told him she didn’t want him, but that hadn’t been true. She had some mad notion of not needing him, that she somehow couldn’t make compromises and it wasn’t like her. She was the queen of compromises – always had been. She’d wanted to shake that part of her personality; she’d wanted to prove to the world that she could be strong and single-minded and that she didn’t need anyone – but at what cost? Wasn’t the right man worth the odd compromise? And it wasn’t as if he’d ever asked her to change. He hadn’t been perfect, but then neither had she. He’d been jealous – but he couldn’t help what he was any more than she could. She’d had to contend with Mila trying to wreck what they’d had, and in cutting Mila from her life she’d wrecked what she’d had with Heath all by herself. Heath had been keeping things from her, but it had been a mistake, and surely everyone made mistakes. She’d handed Mila the victory and Mila had hardly lifted a finger to get it.
Yes, she’d been horrified to learn that Mila was related to the family who’d been responsible for Josh’s death, and yes, it had made things difficult that Heath had history with her and them, and yes, she’d been angry that he’d kept it from her. But he’d done it from fear of losing her, and perhaps – despite what she’d told him – she’d have done the same. If she’d never discovered it, would it have mattered? Would it have made a difference to them if she’d never known?
It was the uncertainty that had done for them – she saw that now. She’d somehow convinced herself that he hadn’t loved her, that he still held a torch for Mila, and perhaps that was down to a lack of self-belief on her part. She’d felt less-than, uncomprehending of why he’d want to love her. She’d seen the effect Mila had on him, had heard the stories of how he’d pined for her, struggled to let go when their marriage had ended, and wondered how she could ever compete with a love so epic. While Ottilie and Heath had been understated and gentle, Mila and Heath had been fiery and volcanic, all passion and hatred, and sometimes the two entangled so that they were the same thing. Ottilie was no Mila. She wasn’t fiery and she never could be. She wasn’t exciting and dangerous and sexy. She was warm and safe and nurturing, and how could Heath be happy with someone like her when he’d had someone like Mila?
‘It’s done now anyway,’ she said briskly, swallowing back a lump in her throat. There was no point in crying about it. Heath was out of her life and too much time had passed to fix things.
‘It’s funny how we seem to have swapped roles,’ Stacey said. ‘When you were with Heath I was alone, and now I’m with Simon…I know what Heath did was out of order, but?—’
Ottilie turned sharply. ‘Where’s this come from? Has he been in touch?’
‘With me?’ Stacey shook her head, but something about it left Ottilie unconvinced.
‘Please, if he has…’
‘No. It’s not that. I want to see you happy, like you did me. That’s it, that’s all.’
Any further discussion was cut short by the arrival of Flo, Lavender, Charles and Fliss.
‘Here she is!’ Charles made a beeline for Ottilie to give her a hug. ‘Our favourite nurse.’ He turned to Stacey and hugged her too. ‘And the woman who’s put that big permanent smile on the face of our Dr Stokes!’
‘How are you feeling?’ Ottilie asked with a smile.
‘All the better for seeing you two. I take it you’ve been roped into helping too.’
‘I think the entire village has,’ Stacey said. ‘What’s your job?’
‘I have no idea yet, simply reporting for duty. I await my orders.’
‘Nothing too strenuous, I hope…’ Fliss was making her way over with Lavender while Flo, having shown Ottilie that she’d noted her presence, went straight to the kitchens. Ottilie thought it odd, but then when was Flo anything other than odd?
‘I’m sure I’ll manage,’ Charles replied. ‘You worry too much.’
Fliss looked faintly incredulous. ‘Is it any wonder when you give me far too much to worry about?’
‘A little heart attack? All done and dusted now, and you’d never even know I’d had one.’
It was Ottilie’s turn to look sceptical. Charles looked older these days, not quite the robust man she’d met when she’d first moved to Thimblebury. Life, or the heart attack, or perhaps living with Fliss for the first time in decades, or perhaps all three…something had taken its toll.
As if to make certain nobody argued with him, Charles turned his attention to the garlands being hung by Magnus and Geoff, who were now being ably assisted by Simon. The hall itself was like many village halls: neutrally painted with a wooden floor and various noticeboards and community art projects pinned to the walls. Magnus and Geoff were doing a good job of dressing it, though Ottilie couldn’t help but feel the real star of the show was the view beyond the windows. There were hills in every direction, bathed in a setting sun, casting their dark hollows and peaks in a bronzed glow. Already some of the leaves on the trees that framed that view were turning amber and russet, and soon there would be a carpet of them on every corner of the village and the hills would glow with colour.
‘It looks very nice in here,’ he said. ‘Very festive. Very…’
‘Farm-yardy?’ Fliss cut in.
‘Which reminds me,’ Ottilie said. ‘Did Victor and Corrine say they’d be coming down?’
‘I should imagine so,’ Fliss said. ‘They don’t usually miss the harvest dinner. I expect Corrine is putting the finishing touches to a metric tonne of home-made cake.’
‘Probably,’ Ottilie agreed with a smile. ‘I was hoping Ann and Darryl might come too. I keep trying to persuade her to come and use the kitchen for the odd meal, but she doesn’t seem to think it’s for her.’
‘Today’s a celebration rather than a charity thing, though,’ Lavender said. ‘So perhaps she might decide to come down for that.’
Ottilie nodded. ‘I hope so. It would do Darryl good to interact with someone other than his mum and me. I know he’s happy enough, but I do worry about him.’
‘Of course you do,’ Fliss said sagely. ‘I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you, Ottilie. You worry about everyone and never give a care for what you might need yourself. It would do you good to think about that once in a while too.’
Ottilie floundered, uncertain how to react to Fliss’s statement. She was content and she was well and settled – she didn’t need anything else…Did she? Did everyone see her that way? Did it matter?
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Flo come out of the kitchen and go to speak to Magnus. And then Magnus called over from where he was holding a set of ladders for Geoff.
‘I don’t suppose anyone fancies helping with the chopping…Ottilie? You’re good at veg prep, aren’t you?’
‘I’m already doing veg prep of sorts,’ she said with a laugh, angling her head at the half-built harvest display.
‘Yes, yes, very good.’
‘I can finish this,’ Charles said. ‘I need to make myself useful, and this is…’ He cleared his throat very deliberately and looked at Fliss. ‘This should be exactly the sort of non-strenuous activity my GP would approve of.’
‘I’ll go with Ottilie,’ Stacey said. ‘I think I’m more or less done with the tablecloths anyway.’
‘Yes, yes, we can finish that,’ Magnus said as Geoff and Simon nodded agreement. ‘You go and help with the cooking. I think they’re getting behind.’
Ottilie handed Charles the sack she’d been holding. ‘Good luck. I hope you can make it look better than I was doing.’
Charles was chuckling as she followed Stacey to the kitchen. When they got in there, Flo was back at her station. They greeted the other volunteers before being set to work. Stacey was making batter mix for Yorkshire puddings while Ottilie had been put on onion-chopping duty again. She could have sworn that Flo had had something to do with that because she was smirking across the room.
Ottilie searched the drawer for a knife and then reached into the bag for the first onion.
‘Do you need a teaspoon to suck on?’
Ottilie spun round, her legs suddenly weak. ‘Heath! What are you…?’
‘Sorry,’ he said, his smile immediately slipping to be replaced by a rueful expression. ‘That wasn’t meant to be—That was a stupid thing to do. I don’t know why I thought it would be—Well, I was trying to be witty or cool, but it didn’t really work, did it?’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Gran said they needed as many volunteers as they could get, and I was at a loose end and I thought…well, I couldn’t keep on avoiding Thimblebury, could I? It seemed a good place to start making things right…I mean, not right, but getting things to a place where I don’t have to fall apart every time I see you. I know you can never forgive me for what happened, but I’d like to think we could put it behind us enough to get along. For Gran’s sake if nothing else.’
Ottilie stared at him. He thought he’d fall apart when he saw her? Did that mean it was happening now? He seemed fine – relaxed, in fact. At least, more relaxed than she was. He wanted to get along…Was that all it was? And really only for Flo’s sake?
‘It’s good to see you,’ he added. ‘You look well. I mean, is it OK to say so? I’ll admit, I don’t quite know how to do this.’
‘No…I mean it’s fine. You too…you look well, I mean.’
Ottilie couldn’t deny that he did. He looked more than well; he looked handsome, and it made her heart ache to see the soft brown eyes that she’d been lost in so many times before, the hair she always longed to run her hands through, the chest she’d lain against to sleep and woken up on the following morning, the smile that would greet her and lift her mood no matter what else was going on. She couldn’t deny that she’d missed him, though she hadn’t realised until this exact moment just how much. She felt as if all the breath had left her lungs and that she couldn’t pull in enough air to refill them, as if the room around them – even the world – had fallen away and been replaced by his face.
‘I’d better…’ He gestured to Flo, who was innocently scoring the skins of some chicken breasts, pretending she hadn’t noticed what was going on, though she could hardly fail to. Nobody in the room could have missed it, though everyone pretended to have seen nothing. It was the strangest, most surreal situation Ottilie had ever been in. ‘…See what Gran wants me to do.’
Driven to distraction simply knowing he was in the kitchen with her, Ottilie’s mind worked at a million miles an hour as she chopped. What was going on here? Why had he turned up now, after all this time? Was it really as simple as he’d made out? Or was there another agenda? And if there was and it involved her somehow, what did that make her feel? Pleased? Annoyed? A little hoodwinked? Or did she secretly hope he was there for her because it was only now, seeing him across the room and longing to be closer, that she understood she’d never really been over him at all.
Someone switched the radio on, and Stacey began to sing along to some eighties power ballad. Flo grumbled for her to shut up and then everyone else weighed in, until the volunteers were all involved in friendly banter. Ottilie was silent. Whenever she dared steal a look at Heath, she guessed he’d been doing the same, because his head would go down, back to his task, as if he’d been caught out. In the main hall, she could hear the preparations continuing and then later people starting to arrive.
Magnus came into the kitchen and began to take glass jugs from the cupboard.
‘You want some water for the tables?’ Ottilie asked.
‘Yes, and some other bits too – pop and whatever for the children.’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘I’ll help.’ Heath dried his hands on his apron and came over. ‘I’ve finished mashing.’
Now Ottilie knew a plot was afoot, but to her annoyance, she couldn’t help but feel pleased. Excited even. Whatever happened here, she couldn’t let herself forget the reasons they were no longer together because they’d been very good ones, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel the seduction. The fact he was clearly making an effort wasn’t helping in that regard either, and it would be too easy to let him get under her skin again.
They went out to the main room together with trays of drinks. Every so often Ottilie would look up to see him turn his face away as if he’d been watching her, and she’d flush in the most frustrating way. At least in a rapidly filling room of people she was safe from herself, wasn’t she? She couldn’t go and do anything silly in such a public place, could she?
She caught him perhaps four or five times looking her way, and when she searched for him again, not wanting to but unable to stop herself, he was close, working his way down the trestle table she was working her way up. At some point they’d meet, and they did. He smiled uncertainly at her as they both set jugs of water side by side on the table, hands grazing at the same time, a thrill like an electric shock going through her at his touch.
‘Sorry…’ he mumbled.
‘No, I’m sorry…’
Only she wasn’t. She wasn’t sorry at all. She wanted to do it again. She wanted more than that.
Ottilie, girl, get a grip! You’ve been on your own too long!
They both returned to the kitchen for more supplies. Ottilie busied herself making up jugs of cordial while Heath fetched bottles of cola from the fridge. The kitchen was beginning to smell divine, roast chicken and beef and potatoes and all manner of vegetables and a nut roast for the odd few who didn’t want meat.
‘My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut!’ Flo called out to anyone who was interested. ‘I hope we’re going to be able to sit down and eat with everyone else, seeing as we cooked it.’
‘I’ll serve up,’ Ottilie said. ‘I don’t mind waiting for a while.’
‘Me too,’ Stacey said, echoed by Simon, who was now assisting in the kitchen.
‘So you should be able to, Gran,’ Heath said.
‘You could go and eat with Flo,’ Ottilie told him, but he glanced briefly at his gran, and an understanding seemed to pass between them before she answered for him.
‘I said I’d go and sit with Victor and Corrine.’
‘I can wait too,’ Heath added. ‘I’ll eat later, after everyone else has been served.’
Magnus came back to the kitchen again. ‘How are we doing? Nearly ready? We’re all ready out there.’
‘Yes, yes, stop fussing,’ Flo grumbled. ‘It’s only a bit of dinner.’
‘Yes, and there’s fifty hungry folks out there,’ Magnus replied, frowning.
‘Fifty-one, because I’m famished,’ Flo said. ‘Don’t worry – we’re dishing up now. Go and sit down.’
‘I can’t; I’ve got to do the opening.’
Ottilie tried not to laugh, and then Stacey leaned over and whispered what she’d been thinking.
‘Anyone would think it was the Oscars, not a harvest dinner in a village hall.’
‘It had crossed my mind,’ Ottilie said. ‘But it’s nice to see he cares, and we shouldn’t be too hard on him.’
Magnus hurried back out, and they heard him announce that dinner was arriving and say a garbled sort of grace that wasn’t really grace at all, and then he apologised for the grace in case anybody didn’t like that sort of thing, and then he put some classical music on and the people in the kitchen who’d wanted to eat earlier went to take their places, leaving Ottilie, Heath, Simon and Stacey to take all the food out to the tables. Ottilie couldn’t help but notice a look pass between Heath and Simon, and it was one that pleased her. It seemed as if whatever problem Heath had seen with Simon before had been forgotten. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked very much like an olive branch.
‘I see things have changed a bit for you,’ Heath said to him.
Simon smiled and glanced fondly at Stacey. ‘You could say that. Definitely for the better.’
‘Congratulations, mate. My gran told me you’d got together. I, um…well, I don’t want you to think I’ve ever been prying, but I know a bit about…Well, I’m glad you found someone.’
Simon gave a short nod of understanding and then began to load terrines and dishes full of glistening, steaming food onto a hostess trolley. Once it was full he went out with it, followed by Stacey with one of her own.
Ottilie was busy filling her own when she heard Heath’s voice close by.
‘You don’t mind me being here today?’
‘Of course not. Why would I? I’m never going to complain about an extra pair of hands for a good cause…In fact, I’m pleased you decided to come. You didn’t always…’
Her sentence petered out. Perhaps it was better not to bring up old stories again.
‘I know, I didn’t always want to help. You must have thought I was such a dick sometimes.’
‘I told you then the same as I’ll say now – I understood it wasn’t so easy for you. You don’t live in Thimblebury.’
‘I’ve missed it. Didn’t realise that until today when I came back.’
‘Really? I suppose Flo has missed your visits.’
‘She was sick of being dragged out to a neighbouring town every time she wanted to see me, that’s for sure. Has she been all right?’
‘You’d know that better than me, wouldn’t you?’
‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For still being so kind to her after…Well, nobody would have blamed you if you’d cut ties with her altogether. I appreciate that you didn’t – she’d have missed you. She thinks a lot of you.’
‘I think a lot of her, and it was never her fault.’
‘No, it was mine and I go over that on a bloody loop. How stupid I was, I mean.’
‘Look…’ Ottilie drew a breath. Much as she wanted to have this conversation, it wasn’t the moment. ‘I think…well, this lot is getting cold. Perhaps we ought to…’
‘Oh, right, sure. Sorry. Making it about me again, aren’t I?’
‘A bit.’
Ottilie went out with her trolley and he followed. By now the hall was alive with good-natured chatter, the clanking of cutlery on china and the warm aromas of their food on the air. The sun was lower in the sky and the hills beyond the windows were ablaze with its light. Simon and Stacey were at the far end of the hall serving out the contents of their trolleys, and so she and Heath started at the top end near the stage. Ottilie noted that Charles and Fliss had done a far better job of the harvest display than she could ever have done.
Once everyone was eating, Ottilie took her trolley back to the kitchen and Heath did the same with his. Simon and Stacey had already taken theirs through and had joined the diners. Ottilie began to stack the dishwasher.
‘You’re not going to eat?’ Heath asked.
‘Not yet. Thought I’d make a start on all this. And anyway, we’ve not finished serving yet. Someone’s got to clear away the plates when people have finished and put out dessert.’
‘And that’s got to be you? All by yourself? You don’t change, do you?’
She looked up, perhaps a bit too sharply when she saw the regret on his face. ‘What does that mean?’
‘I didn’t mean…I wasn’t trying to be funny or offensive. I only meant…you always put others first. It was the thing that I…loved about you most but also the thing that frustrated me most.’
It was a bit too late to be using the word love, even if it hadn’t been a direct admission of it, but Ottilie couldn’t be bothered to say so. She was sick of this pantomime – it was driving her insane and taking far too much energy to keep up.
‘Why have you really come today?’ she asked.
‘Nothing gets past you, does it?’
‘Were you hoping to get something past me?’
‘No. I realise I have no right to say this, and you might not want to hear it, but I’ve missed you.’
‘Have you? Because your gran said?—’
‘That I was OK? I told her to say that. I didn’t want to make you feel sorry for me, and…well, it would have been the wrong reason for us to try again. Pity, I mean. There’s nothing sadder than a romance based on pity, is there?’
‘So what changed?’
‘I suppose I realised that maybe I didn’t care as much as I thought about whether it was pity or not. The truth is I can’t believe I did such a stupid thing to mess up the most brilliant thing I’d ever had, and yes, I’m sorry if it sounds selfish but I want to know if there’s a way back. If you say there isn’t, I won’t ask again, but if there’s even the faintest hope…’
‘This isn’t fair. Why now, after all this time, after I’d got used to life without you? It’s cruel.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘The worst thing is I want to try again, and it’s not pity, but how can I? How can I trust what we had?’
‘Surely you can trust what you felt? It was good, wasn’t it?’
‘At first it was amazing, and I…’
‘What?’
Ottilie shook her head. She’d told him she loved him back then and never heard it said in return. She wasn’t about to go down that road again.
The kitchen door swung open and Stacey pushed a trolley full of dirty crockery in.
‘Oh…sorry, was I interrupting?’ she asked with more than a hint of intrigued amusement on her face.
‘No,’ Ottilie said. ‘Let me take those – I was loading the dishwasher anyway.’
‘I’ll help,’ Heath began, but Ottilie stopped him.
‘No, go and help Stacey clear the tables.’
He seemed to realise what the subtext was: Ottilie didn’t want to be alone with him right now. He nodded and followed Stacey out, and as she watched, Ottilie fought back tears. Why was this so hard? She knew what she wanted, and yet she felt forced to deny it. Why couldn’t she let go and let him back in?
Stupid, sensible Ottilie had struck again. The Ottilie who never took risks, who overthought everything. Why couldn’t she just bugger off? Why couldn’t she take a chance on happiness? Was it always bound to end in disaster? Couldn’t someone change and learn and grow, like Heath seemed to have done? And couldn’t she do the same?
Stacey came back in as Ottilie was closing the door on the first load of dishes.
‘I’ve got—’ She stopped mid-sentence and peered more closely at Ottilie. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Of course.’
‘Because you don’t have to pretend. Heath is here and…what does he want? To try again – is that why he’s come? To talk you round?’
Ottilie nodded. ‘I think so.’
‘And you don’t want to?’
‘That’s the thing, I do.’
‘Then I don’t see the problem.’
‘How can I? It’s not only about where we left it, but remember who he’s related to.’
‘He’s not – his ex-wife is.’
‘And she’s another problem. I think he still has feelings for her; I think he always has done.’
‘Don’t be daft!’
Ottilie looked up at Stacey’s suddenly sharp tone.
‘You’re being an idiot if you think that’s true. Anyone can see it’s not and it’s you he wants. Seems to me you’re finding excuses…Self-sabotaging, Simon calls it. Like you don’t think you deserve good things so you ruin them before the universe has a chance to do it for you. Says he’s done it ever since…well, you know.’
‘Why would Simon feel that way? He…’
Ottilie now recalled a conversation they’d had in the waiting room at the hospital the night Mackenzie had been rushed in.
‘Did he ever tell you about the young boy who’d had a viral infection and he’d missed it until it was almost too late?’
‘Well, yes, but…’
‘Did he ever tell you how badly that affected him? How he’d almost quit medicine? How he’d almost given up on everything…Well, he felt he didn’t deserve to forget that, to move past it.’
So much had happened since that night, but now Ottilie thought about it she remembered Simon telling her he’d almost abandoned his medical career. So it had been about more than losing his family? ‘But he has now? You seem so happy together.’
‘There’s more to it than that – I certainly can’t take all the credit. He saw what he was doing and he got to grips with it, and he realised that making himself suffer wasn’t putting anything right, and it certainly didn’t change what had gone before.’
‘He told you all this?’
‘Yes. And I know he wouldn’t mind me telling you if it would do some good.’
‘But it’s not the same at all.’
‘Isn’t it? Isn’t it the case that you already felt like you were betraying Josh by falling for another man? And then it was ten times worse when you realised that man had a connection to Josh’s killer? As far as I can see, that’s at the root of all your problems, but none of it is Heath’s fault and it’s certainly not yours, so what’s the point in both of you being punished for it? You love him?’
‘You know I do.’
‘And he loves you.’
‘He’s never said?—’
‘If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here today. It doesn’t matter what he’s said. What matters is what he does, surely. I can bet you’d be saying that exact thing to me if it was the other way round and I was the one having the wobbles.’
‘Wobbles…’ Ottilie gave a rueful smile. ‘Is that what it looks like?’
‘It looks like a bloody earthquake from where I’m standing, but I was being kind. I think the world of you, Ott, but my God you’re a total nightmare sometimes! Be selfish for once! Take what you want and stop worrying about the consequences!’
It was Simon’s turn to walk in and look confused. ‘Sorry, am I…? I can leave if you need a minute…’
‘No,’ Ottilie said, ‘it’s fine. People have got to use the kitchen, after all, and we’ll have to take desserts out soon.’
‘And there you go again,’ Stacey said, shaking her head. ‘Worrying about what everyone else needs. There’s no help for you, is there?’
Simon looked more confused than ever as Stacey left the room, and Ottilie fought the oddest urge to laugh. It wasn’t funny at all, but that didn’t seem to make a bit of difference.
‘I wondered if you wanted me to take over so you could have some food. Heath is already sitting down.’
‘I’m not hungry, to be honest,’ Ottilie said. ‘But thank you.’
‘Perhaps there will be leftovers to take home,’ Simon said.
‘I’m sure there will be.’
‘I suppose it’s strange and difficult,’ he added after a significant pause.
‘What’s that?’
‘Having Heath here today. You’re dealing with it well, I have to say.’
There was that mad urge to laugh again. Dealing with it well? Many things could be said about the situation, but that wasn’t one of them. Perhaps it looked calmer from the outside than she’d imagined.
‘I need…I need some air.’
‘Are you all right?’
‘I’ll be fine – just in need of a breather.’
Whatever Simon said in reply was lost as she hurried out of the back door and into the rear courtyard of the community centre. Those majestic hills looked down on her, now falling into shadow as the sun slipped ever lower down in the sky, but for the first time that day she hardly noticed them. Nor did she notice the birds singing their evening chorus or the gnats hanging in the air above her head. What was going on? What did she feel? What did she want? She hadn’t a clue and everyone seemed to have an opinion on it, crowding in on her, confusing her even more.
She dragged in a long breath and turned her face to the sky. But her contemplation didn’t last long. The sound of the door opening brought her back. Heath was there with a plate of food in his hand.
‘Simon told me you hadn’t eaten.’
‘I wasn’t hungry.’
‘Maybe not, but I wondered if you just thought you were too busy. So I made you a hot beef sandwich. And there is no double entendre there – it really is just a hot beef sandwich.’
Despite herself, Ottilie giggled. ‘Thank you,’ she said as he sat next to her with the plate and handed it over. Taking it from him, she put it on the ground.
‘I’ve missed that laugh,’ he said.
‘I’ve missed your daft jokes.’
‘I’ve missed you. I don’t care if you want me to say it or not because I can’t keep it in any longer. I’ve missed you like crazy. I am sorry, you know. More sorry than I can say for what I did. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realise now how bad it was. I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t forgive me.’
‘But you came today anyway.’
‘I had to. Even if we never got back together I couldn’t leave things how they were. I had to get…closure, I suppose. I wanted us to at least be friends again. Your friendship meant so much to me. I didn’t want you to disappear completely from my life. I had hoped you’d feel the same way.’
‘I do…I mean, I’m glad you wanted to…’
She was stumped again. She didn’t know how to respond because she didn’t know what she wanted. Or perhaps she did and couldn’t bring herself to say it.
‘This is ridiculous!’ she exclaimed finally.
‘What is?’
‘Me! I’m ridiculous! Yes, I want us to be friends – of course I do! It would be crazy to be anything else.’
‘Well, that’s something. I think. So…now we’ve got that sorted, how about you eat your sandwich? I did go to a lot of trouble to steal that beef and slap it in between some slices of bread, you know.’
The way she relaxed into a laugh was like magic. He was wearing her down – she could sense it, and she had to wonder again why she was even trying to resist.
‘I’ve hated the past few months.’
‘Have you?’
She nodded. ‘Because you weren’t in them.’
‘I don’t blame you for that. I was an idiot. I should have told you about?—’
‘I can’t pretend I wasn’t hurt by that, but it was no reason to end things. I was being…I don’t know. I thought I had to be some feminist warrior.’
It was his turn to laugh. ‘You’re being a bit harsh on yourself there.’
‘Probably. I don’t really know what I was doing.’
‘You were doing the thing that was right. In a strange way, even though I got the sharp end of it, I’m proud of you for it. You gave me what I deserved. It’s partly why I took so long to come and see you…I suppose I was ashamed. What I did was wrong and I?—’
‘Don’t. Don’t let’s keep going over the same old lines. You should have said and done things differently, but so should I. Let’s not keep raking it over; there’s no point.’ Her mind went back to what Stacey had said to her. ‘It doesn’t change what’s already done, no matter how many times we go over it. I know you’re sorry. I know because you’re here now and it must have taken some guts.’
‘Not really. I only knew I had to see you. After that, I didn’t really think about it.’
‘I wish I could be a bit more like that. I think about everything too much.’
‘That’s so you,’ he said.
She looked up at him, lost in his eyes, breathless. ‘Is it?’
‘You don’t have to be anything. Be you; that’s all I need. That’s perfect.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes. I should have told you a lot of things, not just about Mila. I should have told you that. I should have told you what you meant to me.’
‘You did.’
‘I didn’t make it clear enough, apparently. Is there a chance…maybe you’d let me try again?’
‘Do you want to try again?’
‘More than anything.’
His hand found hers, a warm rush racing through her as he wove his fingers between hers. She closed her eyes for the tiniest moment, lost in it, only then realising how desperately she’d missed his touch.
‘So what do you think?’
‘I think we could.’
He took her other hand now and pulled her close. ‘Would it be a bit forward to kiss you? I mean, we’ve only just met.’
Ottilie frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, this version of us has only just met. Where you’re you and I’m honest. I think this is the version that could go the distance. Who knows if I’m right, but I hope so. Because I hated being without you. While we’re being honest, I have to tell you, I came today to help but I wanted to see you too. Maybe I wanted to see you more. I hoped we might be able to talk.’
‘And we are talking.’
‘But now I’m getting greedy because I’m hoping for more.’
His eyes were full of what she now knew was love as he looked down at her. It had always been there, right from the start, and if he’d never said it she might only have looked harder to see the truth. It would have saved a lot of heartache, and she realised that now too.
As his lips touched hers there were fireworks. In the movies they watched at Magnus and Geoff’s film club there were always fireworks when the couple finally kissed, but that was only in the movies, surely? It didn’t happen in real life. Except it did and it was happening to Ottilie right there.
There was a voice telling her she ought to put up more of a fight but she refused to listen to it any longer. That was the old enemy, the too cautious, too sensible Ottilie, and she was sick of listening to her. She wanted Heath. A second chance at a second chance – days like this didn’t come along very often, and if anyone was learning fast to grab happiness as it flew by, that person was Ottilie. And she would – she’d take that happiness, and she would wring every bit of joy out of it whether it lasted a hundred hours or a hundred years. Whatever it was, if Heath was there, she wanted it.