Page 65 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

Lavender appeared a minute or so later and handed Fliss a tiny bottle.

‘Open wide,’ Fliss said to Ottilie before tipping a couple of drops of something on her tongue. ‘Right, give it a minute. You’ll be fine once it gets to work.’

Ottilie nodded, tears leaking from her eyes. She could hear Lavender tell Fliss she was going to make some calls. Perhaps they were going to cancel Ottilie’s clinic after all. And much as she hated the idea, Ottilie had to admit she was in no state to see patients. She squeezed her eyes shut. Perhaps this was a terrible dream, and when she opened them again she’d wake and it would be over.

But when she opened them, Fliss was still studying her with real concern, and they were still upstairs in the makeshift treatment room because downstairs was too waterlogged, and she hadn’t been dreaming at all.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

In truth, it was a sort of delay tactic. Ottilie knew that Stacey and Chloe’s house had been spared from the floodwater because she’d spent the night there. And she knew that the village shop was safe, and that Victor and Corrine were out of the way up on their hill, and she knew that Lavender and Fliss – though affected – were more than capable of dealing with it. But as far as she knew, nobody had looked in on Flo. She needed to get back to her own house, especially as Fliss had gifted her a cut afternoon clinic so she could leave early to inspect the damage more fully, but she couldn’t face it. Out of sight wasn’t exactly out of mind, but she could pretend, just a little, that the problem wasn’t waiting there for her, so she went home via Flo’s house, wading through floodwater of differing levels depending on the terrain of that section of village, to see whether she was safe.

Flo had sandbags at the front door of her cottage. The water didn’t look too high here either, so perhaps her foresight had spared her. Ottilie reflected ruefully on the fact that she hadn’t taken Victor’s advice more seriously and got some sandbags herself, although she hadn’t a clue where she’d have got them from, and perhaps the water would have been too high for them to save Wordsworth Cottage anyway – the levels certainly seemed lower here than what she’d seen at her own house that morning.

Leaning over the sandbags, she knocked and called through the letterbox. ‘Flo…are you home? It’s Ottilie.’

Flo appeared a moment later holding a mop and looking about as disgruntled as Ottilie had ever seen her.

‘I suppose you’re another person who thinks I can’t manage. People have been knocking all day. Honestly, I’ve been through worse than this and I’d clean it up a lot faster if you’d all leave me to it instead of bothering me every five minutes.’

‘Sorry,’ Ottilie said. ‘I just wanted to know how bad it was and…’ Her sentence tailed off. She’d been about to say she’d offer help, but Flo had made it very clear that she didn’t want it, even if she might need it. Stubborn and independent to the end, even when her body told her differently; that was Flo – as Ottilie was fast learning.

‘I would have thought you’ve got clearing up to do of your own,’ Flo said, leaning on her mop and eyeing Ottilie critically. ‘What are you bothering me for when your own place must be under water?’

‘It is,’ Ottilie said. ‘At least, it was when I left it this morning.’

Flo stared at her. ‘You haven’t been there?’

‘No, I had to work.’

‘And Dr Cheadle made you stay? Well, I?—’

‘We still have patients who need care,’ Ottilie said. ‘It’s not her fault. And there didn’t seem any point being home anyway; not a lot I could do, because the water was just…well, just sitting there.’ She glanced into the hallway behind Flo and could see that it was wet, but it looked as if the sandbag defences had kept the worst out, while Flo was mopping up the rest. ‘Will your floors be ruined?’

‘Might be. I’m hoping they’ll dry out without too much damage. Lucky it was only a puddle here really. I would think it’s worse where you are, closer to the river.’

Ottilie nodded. ‘A bit.’

‘Then I suggest you go home and see what’s to be done. You’ve got insurance?’

Ottilie nodded but stopped short of telling Flo that it was absolutely no use in this case.

‘At least it’ll pay for any damage then. I haven’t got any. My own stupid fault, but I couldn’t afford it and couldn’t see the point. Doubt it would have covered me for flooding anyway.’

If only Ottilie had checked more thoroughly. Now that she considered it, Wordsworth Cottage was so close to the river, it was obviously at risk, and obvious that no insurer would want to cover it for flooding. She’d been so eager, so desperate to make the move she’d hardly looked at any paperwork at all. For all she knew, she might not actually own Wordsworth Cottage.

‘I think I’ll have to wait for the water to recede at my place before I can clean up,’ Ottilie said. ‘So I might as well be giving you a hand here.’

‘It won’t go away just because you can’t see it,’ Flo said with a shrewd look.

‘I know, but I might not feel so helpless if I can’t see it. At least I can do something useful here – at my place, I’d be wading around with not a clue where to start.’

Flo was thoughtful for a moment, and then nodded. ‘Come in. There’s a spare mop in the cupboard under the stairs and I haven’t managed to get the kitchen dry yet.’

Flo had been missing for ten minutes or so before Ottilie realised it. She went through from the kitchen to the hallway, wondering if she’d be finishing, but there was no sign of her. And then she noticed Flo’s boots on the bottom stair, and heard muffled tones coming from the floor above. Flo must have been on the phone to someone. Perhaps she was trying to recruit more help after all. Maybe it was Heath – it seemed a safe bet. As far as Ottilie had seen, he was the only member of Flo’s family she could rely on.

It was good – Ottilie was glad she was finally admitting to needing help, and at her age she needed to keep the stress to a minimum. She wondered how others in the village were managing – especially older or more vulnerable residents. Perhaps she ought to form some sort of village task force – if it hadn’t been done already – to see how they could help those people. She was certain Victor and his family would help, Magnus and Geoff too, perhaps Fliss and her husband if they could spare the time from clearing their own places.

Ottilie went back to the kitchen. Maybe it would be useful to get Flo’s thoughts on her plan when she came back downstairs.

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