Page 83 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

‘She thinks you’re brilliant too.’

Ottilie flushed. ‘She said that?’

‘No, but she doesn’t have to. I can tell. She never took to any of my girlfriends, and in the end she hated Mila.’

In the end? Ottilie wanted to know what had changed. In the end implied that in the beginning Flo hadn’t hated Heath’s ex-wife but something had happened to make her feel differently. But it didn’t seem like a question he’d welcome.

‘Our Flo’s difficult to please then?’ she said instead. ‘I must be honoured.’

‘You must be. I guess you’ve done something to earn it. You’re there for her, at least.’

‘Mila kept you away? Is that what happened to upset her? I don’t mean to pry, but?—’

‘Quite the opposite,’ he said, but although his tone was neutral, his expression darkened. ‘She was here a lot towards the end of our marriage, sometimes without me…’

He looked as if he wanted to add something, but then he drank the last of the tea in his plastic cup and stood up. ‘Can’t sit here all day. Work to be done, right?’

‘Um, sure. I mean, you can take as long as you want if you haven’t finished your lunch. Nobody minds.’

‘I’ve more or less finished anyway,’ he said, bundling up the greaseproof paper his sandwiches had been wrapped in. ‘Decent butties, by the way – compliments to the chef.’

‘That was Corrine. I tried to help, but she’s so fast and efficient she’d done everything by the time I’d figured out where the butter knives are kept.’

‘She has butter knives? I thought everyone had one knife for everything like I do.’

Ottilie smiled, but despite his quip she detected a new tension in the air and she couldn’t work out where it had come from. She’d felt she was learning about him, getting to know him, and then it was like he’d decided he’d said too much and thrown a barrier up. At least it seemed to be coming from him, but perhaps some of it was her doing too. Was she getting too close? Was she going to a place she would regret?

She’d been lonely of late, more and more understanding of Stacey’s loneliness, and this was a new stage in her transition from newly bereaved to accepting widow that she didn’t know how to deal with. Was her new – and now undeniable – interest in Heath just a manifestation of that? Was it loneliness driving her actions? She’d heard it said by many people that one could be surrounded by friends and yet still be lonely, but over the past few weeks she had seen for herself the truth of that statement.

Whatever else it was, logic told her it was too soon. Josh was still a constant in her thoughts and to muddy her emotional waters wouldn’t be helpful at all – possibly even foolish and guaranteed not to end well. There was more to learn about Heath too, a history he was keeping back. She couldn’t allow herself to get involved when there were secrets that might change everything, and it didn’t seem as if he was willing to share them. She guessed it had something to do with the way his marriage had ended. She wondered whether Flo might know and if she ought to ask her, but as she watched him go back to work, she wondered whether not knowing might be better. She liked him – she could no longer deny it – and she liked where they were now, and perhaps she didn’t want to ruin that with scary little things like the truth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ottilie’s renovations had been going on for almost a week. Finally, she could see how things would look, and her mood was more positive every day. The weather had been good to them and there had been no more rain, which she’d been nervous about, even though everyone had told her there was no need.

Her help had taken it in turns to be there over the past few days. Not everyone could make every day, and Ottilie, of course, understood that perfectly well. Heath had done almost all of them though. She’d asked him how he had the time and whether he was falling behind at work, but he simply told her that he worked for himself so it was all in hand and left it at that.

Every day that she spent with him revealed a bit more of the real Heath too. Ottilie tried not to go back to Daffodil Farm thinking about him, but she always did. He was smart and quick and strong, and she admired that about him, but he was also surprisingly gentle when the moment called for it, emotionally astute and tactful. He gave little away about his marriage, but Ottilie gleaned more from what he didn’t say than what he did. She could see that his ex-wife had hurt him deeply, more than he’d ever admit, and it made her sad. The Heath she was getting to know didn’t deserve that.

Magnus sidled up to Ottilie as she helped Victor pack his drill at the end of another day. She’d noticed him doing the same to Heath. He’d gone over there, had a quick, quiet conversation with him, and then left him to come straight to her. She tried not to let her suspicion show as she smiled up at him.

‘Everything all right, Magnus?’

‘Yes. I just wanted to invite you to our movie soirée.’

‘What, like film club? I thought that was next week and you hardly need to invite me; I’m in the club anyway, aren’t I?’

‘Of course you are. This is an extra thing. I thought it might be nice for all of us who have worked together the past few days to let our hair down.’

‘Hmm. I suppose if anyone ought to be throwing a party for that, it’s me.’

‘But your house is hardly fit to do it. So Geoff and I thought it would be good to have it at our place.’

‘Oh, right. When?’

‘Can you make tomorrow night?’

Ottilie smiled. ‘You know I have no social life outside film club. I’m sure I can be there. What time? You might have to make it late enough for us all to get showered and stuff. Who else is coming?’

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