Page 31 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

‘Only a touch,’ Ottilie added.

‘Gwen said it was fine.’

‘It might have been fine last time Gwen took it. It’s a little high today, though.’

‘It can’t be.’

‘Have you noticed any symptoms?’

‘No.’

‘Been doing anything you think might have made the difference? Hang on, where’s your list of medication…’

Ottilie began to search her computer for the medical records, only to be distracted by a thump on the desk.

‘Well this is a pretty picture, isn’t it!’ fumed Mrs Icke. ‘You mean to say you don’t know?’

‘Not off the top of my head, no, but the list is?—’

‘Gwen could tell you in her sleep!’

‘I’m sure she could, and even if I could I’d check anyway in case something had changed that I didn’t know about.’

‘If something had changed, Gwen always knew.’

‘Hmm…’ Ottilie said, going back to her screen, trying very hard to hold a sarcastic reply – and she had many to choose from. What was that Fliss had told her about enjoying community nursing?

One thing Ottilie could get used to very quickly was lunch at the surgery. In her previous job at the hospital it was always something of an afterthought – a hurried sandwich or a mug of instant soup, just to make sure she didn’t keel over mid-shift – and then back to work. There was no time to taste, let alone savour what she was eating, and very little time to catch up with colleagues.

But here at Thimblebury’s tiny surgery, Dr Cheadle – or Fliss, as she insisted her colleagues call her, although Lavender often called her Doctor, no matter what she said – had always made a point of closing the doors and, unforeseen emergencies notwithstanding, gathered her staff to take their breaks around the same table and to talk through their day, or anything else that was on their mind, together. They’d all bring food to share. Ottilie hadn’t realised that this ritual was in place on her first day in the job, but as this was her second and she now knew the drill, she’d made a pomegranate, feta and couscous salad, while Fliss had brought chicken drumsticks to go with it, and Lavender had made a pie with cherries from her own garden for afterwards.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,’ Ottilie said as she helped herself to a second slice of Lavender’s pie, the remains of her chicken littering a plate in front of her.

‘The pie?’ Fliss asked with a note of humour. ‘It’s very good, but really…’

Ottilie laughed. ‘This whole downing tools thing and taking a proper lunch. I’ve spent my entire career so far grabbing what I can and working with indigestion. This is very new for me.’

‘As far as I’m concerned, none of us works to our full potential if we don’t take time to recharge. When you’re tired, hungry, rushed, stressed…then you make mistakes. I see this time as an investment in good patient care. This afternoon we’ll be refreshed and at our best and we’ll have had a moment to connect, which I hope makes for good mental health and good working relationships.’

‘Gwen used to say—’ Lavender began but then stopped. The expression of exasperation Ottilie had hoped to keep from her face had obviously shown itself anyway.

‘Cheer up,’ Fliss said to her, laughing again. ‘I know everyone’s going on about Gwen – the whole village adored her. But they’ll get used to you quicker than you imagine.’

‘We had some patients come into the surgery crying, begging her not to retire. Said they wouldn’t be able to cope without her,’ Lavender told her.

‘That doesn’t surprise me one bit,’ Ottilie said. ‘Pretty much everyone I’ve seen in surgery this last couple of days seems annoyed that I’m not Gwen. I realise change is tough on some of the older ones, but it’s hardly encouraging. She doesn’t live in the village, I gather.’

‘No,’ Lavender said. ‘She wasn’t daft. As you’ve found out already, people don’t leave you alone if they know where to find you; she didn’t want to be pestered when she wasn’t on shift.’

‘Like I said,’ Fliss put in, ‘the patients will come round. I don’t think they were all that keen on me when I first took over, but I don’t doubt there will be a fuss when I retire too. They like who they know – it’s nothing personal.’

‘Please don’t retire yet!’ Ottilie replied. ‘I don’t think I could cope, let alone the patients! Please give me a few more years, at least until they get their head around me!’

‘In a few weeks they’ll have forgotten all about Gwen and they’ll love you,’ Lavender said.

‘And I’ve no plans to retire yet,’ Fliss added. ‘I’d be bored to death, for a start.’

‘Good!’ Ottilie turned to Lavender. ‘How long have you been here?’

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