Page 77 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

‘What time do you call this?’ Victor hailed him as he got down from his tractor cab, and Ottilie wondered whether they’d have to open a new tractor park outside her house, and how anyone with a car was going to get past.

‘Dog got out again,’ Leon said, nodding at everyone else. ‘Penny was busy with the kids, so I had to chase him down. Daft as a brush, that one – found him trying to get in with your girls. I think that breeder was lying when he told us he was a sheepdog; no intention of herding anything, just wants to play.’

‘At least you got him,’ Victor said.

As they all caught up on pleasantries, Victor’s other son-in-law, Damien, arrived, and then Stacey – much to Ottilie’s surprise and delight – and then, just as they were all about to go inside and make a start, there was one last arrival. Ottilie’s sharp intake of breath was almost audible as he found a space to park his car and got out.

‘I’m not late, am I?’

‘Well, well…’ Victor went over to clap him on the back. ‘Heath Reynolds, as I live and breathe! How are you? Haven’t seen you in donkey’s!’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Heath said, glancing Ottilie’s way for the briefest instant before turning back to Victor. ‘How’s everything at the farm? I heard about Corrine. I’m sorry?—’

‘No need!’ Victor said. ‘Corrine will be right as rain in no time, thanks to Ottilie here catching it early.’

‘I didn’t—’ Ottilie began, but Victor put a hand up.

‘Stop with that modesty. Everyone knows if you hadn’t told her to go straight down to Dr Cheadle things could have been a whole lot worse. Now then, are we all going to stand around here like a Sunday school meeting or are we going to get cracking on that there house?’

There was a murmur of approval before Victor – who seemed to have been unofficially designated site foreman – began to direct people to equipment and to delegate tasks. Ottilie looked Heath’s way, and found he was paying close attention to her. In the silliest, most guilty way, both looked hurriedly away again.

‘I’d have thought you’d have had enough of my house,’ she said once she got a moment to speak to him.

‘Gran told me all about the plan, and, well, she’s fond of you and you’ve been very good to her. She was upset that you might have to leave. She asked me if I could come, and of course I said yes.’

Ottilie gave him a grateful smile, though it was tinged with bemusement. ‘It’s nice that you’re doing this for her.’

‘Not just her,’ he said briskly, striding off clutching a claw hammer before Ottilie had the chance to ask what he meant.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ottilie was settling into life at Daffodil Farm so quickly that she wondered if she might not want to go back home when the work on her cottage was done. She’d only arrived the evening before, but Corrine and Victor were so welcoming and so easy to get along with that the worries she’d had about feeling like a stranger in their house were a million miles from her mind as she sank into their worn but comfortable sofa and allowed her eyes to close for a moment. Corrine bustled in the kitchen making supper and Victor had gone off to see to his alpaca. Ottilie had tried to offer assistance, but they’d both been adamant that they didn’t need it and that she should take the opportunity to rest. So she’d washed quickly and changed into comfy clothes and, despite a niggling sense of guilt – inactivity didn’t sit well with her when others were busy – she was enjoying the moment of peace.

The first day of work on her house had been messy, loud and dirty, but nobody had expected anything else. The old saying about breaking eggs to make omelette came to mind, and there was definitely some egg-breaking going on. There was probably a few more days of that to come too, and Ottilie had to keep reminding herself that, horrific as the gaping holes where her floors ought to be and the smashed-off plaster and missing skirting boards looked, things wouldn’t be that way forever. She forced herself to think beyond that, to visualise a time when everything was back to normal, only better – new and improved. After all, she’d wanted to redecorate, and if she hadn’t been forced to do it in such a way, she had so much else going on that it would have taken her months, maybe even years, to get round to it.

The first day had also been characterised by high spirits and heaps of enthusiasm. There was a wonderful, palpable sense of camaraderie, of a common goal that had everyone getting along, tolerant and cheery and fond of each other. Ottilie had especially loved that and she hoped it continued. She’d hate to see a day, perhaps not that far off, where reality set in enough to make people miserable and impatient, wishing they’d never agreed to help after all.

The biggest surprise of the day had been Heath’s arrival, but now that Ottilie considered it, she wondered why she’d been surprised at all. She’d already seen plenty of evidence that he’d bend over backwards for his gran, and he’d been to help Ottilie before at Flo’s behest, so why not this time? And she’d been pleased to see him too. Not only because of the extra pair of hands he brought with him, but because…

Ottilie opened her eyes and drew in a sharp breath as a realisation hit her. It was uncomfortable, unwelcome, and yet she couldn’t deny it. She’d been pleased to see him because…

No. Absolutely not. She would not allow herself to think about him that way. It was too soon – for both of them as far as she could tell. They both came with masses of baggage; it couldn’t end well, even if she was willing to give it a try, which she was not. Besides, there was no reason to suppose that he felt the same.

Her thoughts wandered to small moments, where she’d catch his eye, where she’d overhear a snippet of conversation between him and someone else that made her smile, where she’d see him working and be unable to take her eyes off him for what was perhaps the most inappropriate length of time, and then he’d look up, sensing her attention, and she’d look away feeling unfathomably guilty. And he’d said to her when he’d first arrived that he wasn’t only helping because his gran had asked him to. On a practical level it meant exactly what she’d assumed it had meant – that he was helping someone in need. But was there more to it than that? And why did the answer matter so much to her?

Corrine popped her head around the living-room door, a welcome distraction from thoughts that were tying Ottilie up in knots, thoughts she’d rather avoid having to deal with.

‘Supper’s ready,’ she said. ‘I thought I might find you asleep in here, you’ve been so quiet.’

‘You nearly did,’ Ottilie said, pushing a bright smile across her face as she stood up. ‘Another half hour and I’d have been gone.’

‘I’m not surprised. After supper you can have a nice long bath and then to bed if you like. I’ve got some lovely bath salts that will send you straight off.’

‘I don’t think I’ll need bath salts for that,’ Ottilie said as she followed her into the kitchen, where the aroma of herbs and warm bread reached her and set her stomach gurgling. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was until she’d smelled the food. ‘I’m sure I’ll go off as soon as my head hits the pillow – I’m shattered. Where’s Victor? He’s not eating with us?’

‘Oh, he’ll be down in a few minutes – just doing something at our Penny’s place.’

‘Surely not more manual work?’ To her shame, Ottilie could never remember whether Penny was Corrine and Victor’s older or younger daughter. She didn’t know either Penny or Melanie all that well. Feeling as if she ought to know and that it might be rude to ask, she simply sat at the table and stared at Corrine. ‘Surely he hasn’t got a scrap of energy left for anything else after the day we’ve had?’

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