Page 35 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

Once the dips were all finished and packaged up, Ottilie went to get changed into something a bit more presentable than her old joggers. She settled on a pair of flared jeans and a floral gypsy top, gathered her hair into a clip and refreshed the minimal make-up she’d worn that day. With a last look in the mirror, fairly content with what she saw, she gathered her offerings and headed out.

It was still warm, and the jacket Ottilie had put on soon felt like too much. But she was laden with the snacks she’d made for the other film club members and had no arms free to take it off, and so had to suffer and hope that she wasn’t too sweaty by the time she got to the shop. She knew from Magnus that Geoff had built the cinema himself in one of the outbuildings. It wasn’t visible from the front and Ottilie was curious to see what he’d done. She’d heard of people building home cinemas, but she’d never actually been in one.

There was a closed sign on the door of the shop. Ottilie wondered if someone would hear her knock anyway, but when she did so and waited for a few moments, only to get no answer, she decided to try and find a way around to the back of the building. There was a side gate, hidden behind dense shrubs, and she called as she pushed it open.

‘Anyone home?’

Magnus’s voice came from somewhere she couldn’t immediately see. ‘Ottilie? Hang on one minute…’

Then Magnus himself appeared and led her down the narrow opening between the shop and the neighbouring building into a small but pretty garden formed into a sort of makeshift quadrangle by two timber annexes, the back of the shop and a fence. The garden was kitted out with wooden furniture, a swing seat, a water feature, a fire pit and what looked like a swanky pizza oven. Clearly Magnus and Geoff enjoyed their outdoor space. Ottilie turned her attention to the other buildings. One had wide windows that revealed a fitted kitchen.

‘Is that where you live?’ Ottilie asked. ‘I thought you might live above the shop.’

‘Oh, no, we came into a bit of money so we built ourselves somewhere more private.’

‘It’s gorgeous!’

‘Thank you!’ Magnus said, clearly delighted with the compliment. ‘That’s the cinema, next to it.’

The building that stood alongside was in the same wood panelling but didn’t have any windows. It didn’t look very big, but perhaps the outside was deceiving. Ottilie had to wonder how much money they’d come into, because she didn’t imagine running a village shop would pay enough for all this, but she’d been brought up better than to ask. Perhaps the facts would come to light as she got to know them, but for now she had to admit to being wild with curiosity. Even with the very good pension Josh had left her, her wages and the money she’d made from selling the house in Manchester, she could never have dreamed of being able to afford anything like this. She had to wonder how they’d managed to get planning permission too. Perhaps one of them had connections, because this seemed like a lot for any local authority to approve.

‘Let me take some of that from you.’ Magnus held out his hands. ‘What have you been up to? You didn’t need to bring food; we’ve got plenty!’

‘Yes, but I couldn’t very well turn up empty-handed, could I? You’d think I was a freeloader and never invite me again.’

Magnus chuckled as he took the tray from her. ‘As if! Of course, I say we have plenty of food, but nobody’s ever complained about having more.’

‘It’s only some dips and crackers and things. Nibbly bits.’

‘Nibbly bits are the best.’

‘Josh always used to say that. He loved a good wedding buffet.’ Ottilie tried not to let her sudden sadness show.

‘You’re a bit early,’ Magnus said, clearly uncertain whether he was meant to address her comment about Josh or whether he would only make her sadder if he did. ‘We’ll have a drink in the house while we wait for everyone else if you like. Geoff’s just making a jug of sangria.’

‘Sangria?’ Ottilie smiled. ‘God, it’s years since I had any of that.’

‘It’s such a kitsch drink, but we can’t get enough of it. What can you do when the taste is missing, eh?’

‘Oh, there’s nothing wrong with a nice cold glass of sangria,’ Ottilie said as she followed him into the wooden building they called home.

Inside, she gazed at the ultra-modern interiors. If she’d have hazarded a guess at Magnus and Geoff’s taste, it would have been some miles from this, and it seemed strange to find something so cutting edge in such a sleepy village. The kitchen was all gloss and chrome, with high ceilings and glass fittings, while the glimpse she got of the living room through an open door was white and grey. It was more like a slick Manchester loft conversion than a Lakeland home – totally at odds with the cramped and homey shop they ran from the front cottage. In fact, it was very like the sort of interior that Josh would often lust over whenever they went shopping to kit out their home. He’d say, ‘Next year, when I’ve saved a bit more,’ but next year never came. They’d spend their money on holidays or meals out or theatre trips and the savings would never grow. Ottilie never minded – she’d rather spend it on time together anyway.

A man who had to be Geoff looked up from stirring a jug. He broke into a delighted smile. ‘You must be Ottilie!’

She nodded, and he leaped forward to grab her by both shoulders and kiss her lightly on each cheek.

‘How lovely to finally meet you!’

Ottilie smiled back, and she could see immediately why Magnus had fallen for him. While he wasn’t exactly handsome, there was such a softness, such a gentle kindness to him that it made him look handsome. His hair was white now but still thick, swept up into a quiff, grey eyes full of fun, a face that looked as if it was smiling even when he wasn’t. He was broader than Magnus, but it looked good on him. Ottilie would have put him in his mid to late fifties perhaps, older than Magnus – although she didn’t know for sure how old Magnus was. And she was notoriously bad at guessing ages – something Josh had often teased her about.

‘It’s so good to finally meet you too,’ she said. ‘Every time I’ve been in the shop I’ve missed you.’

‘Oh, love, there’s never a down moment with that shop. Not that I’m complaining – business is business and we can’t afford to sniff at it, can we? Come…sit down. What would you like to drink?’

‘Well, I was promised sangria.’

‘Sangria coming right up!’

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