Page 17 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

Ottilie gave a vague shrug. ‘I just wanted a new start.’

‘Wanted or needed?’

‘A bit of both, I suppose…’ Ottilie sighed as she set down her glass. ‘There was stuff happening. It was complicated.’

‘Complicated how?’ Fliss switched off the stove and turned to give Ottilie her full concentration. ‘I imagine the loss of a spouse is complicated in and of itself. There were other things?’

Ottilie hesitated. There were things she still felt uncomfortable sharing, even here, away from the dangers she’d left behind in Manchester – however real or imagined they’d been. She let out another deep sigh. Surely here, with Fliss, there was no danger in sharing. And it felt right, somehow, perhaps for the first time since Josh’s death, to open up and be honest with someone, and who better than the GP she’d soon be working closely with? She hoped for open and honest from Fliss after all, so the least she could offer was the same.

‘Josh was killed on duty,’ she began slowly, trying to find the words that would least feel like blades cutting her anew. ‘He got too close to something, got involved where others didn’t dare.’

‘Like what?’ Fliss folded her arms, paying close attention.

‘There was…is a notorious local family. Criminals, you know, fingers in every pie, but nobody can ever catch them out. Mostly clueless little runts, petty crimes, and nobody ever really saw them as inherently dangerous before… Josh used to laugh about them – all his team did. But then something changed. He found something that might have changed that. His colleagues all told him to step away, that it would end badly, that he ought to turn a blind eye because they were so lawless but also so stupid – which sounds like a terrible thing for a police officer to do. Now I wish he had.’

At this point Fliss’s mouth fell open. She reached for her wine and seemed to have forgotten all about her cooking as she took a seat at the table. ‘You think he was murdered? I mean, that’s what I’m getting from what you’re saying.’

‘I suppose, if you want to put it like that,’ Ottilie said, a familiar sick chill creeping over her. Whenever she thought about what Josh had gone through before his death, the reasons for it, and whether he might have been saved on a different day, she wanted to collapse, to cry out, to weep until there was nothing of her left but tears. But none of that would change what was, and so she didn’t. Instead, she did the only thing she could, the thing she was certain Josh would have wanted her to do – she soldiered on. She put all that out of her mind and tried to focus on the future, on making a positive impact where she could, on restoring the balance of kindness to a world that too often felt like it was built on pure evil. ‘I don’t know if his attacker meant to kill him, but he…she…they…I don’t know. It happened. He died from his injuries.’

‘You make it sound as if nobody has been caught for it.’

‘That’s the thing. His superiors think they know –hell, everyone knows who did it and why – but there’s no evidence as yet, so nobody has been convicted. Nobody’s even been arrested without being released straight after, because there wasn’t enough to link them to the attack.’

‘That’s shocking! No wonder you wanted to leave Manchester! To walk down the street and look your husband’s killer in the face and not know it! I can’t imagine…’

‘Yes, there was that. But rightly or wrongly, and maybe I was being paranoid, but I was scared too. They were still out there and…I don’t know; I’m sure it wasn’t the case at all but…I was scared they’d come for me. Pathetic, I suppose, because why would they care about me? They’d already got rid of Josh, so what threat was I? But still…’

‘Ottilie…’ Fliss reached across the table and gave Ottilie’s hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘That’s completely understandable. You shouldn’t be beating yourself up for a reaction that almost any sane person would have. It all sounds dreadful, and nobody can fix what’s past or replace what you lost, but I hope you find the peace you’re looking for here in Thimblebury. We’re all rooting for you. Anything you want, anything you need, you only have to ask.’

‘Thank you.’ Ottilie sniffed away her tears. She hated how they made her feel like a victim. To cry almost felt like she’d gifted Josh’s attackers another victory, and despite her promises to herself to make the world better, she had no intention of making it better in any way for them. She let her shoulders drop and relaxed. The truths she’d needed to share without realising it had been told, and perhaps it would mark a turning point she hadn’t realised was on the horizon. ‘I’d rather people didn’t know all that stuff. You know, about Josh and?—’

‘Of course! Nobody will hear it from me, I can promise you that.’

It was like an unspoken pact had been made between the two women. Ottilie offered no more information about Josh’s death and the circumstances that had led to it, and Fliss didn’t ask. Instead, talk turned to more manageable topics, like the workload at the surgery, what Ottilie might expect during her first week as their nurse, the extra training Fliss wanted her to undertake so she could help prescribe medicines and perform more complex procedures, how tourism affected (or didn’t) the village, who Ottilie might want to look out for and how feasible any plans for new community projects might be.

‘This lamb is incredible!’ Ottilie gushed as the first mouthful went in. ‘How do you get it so tender?’

‘Ah, that would be telling! I can’t have you making it yourself, otherwise you won’t want to come over for supper again.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong – if someone else is cooking I’m always there.’

‘You don’t like cooking?’

‘I love cooking, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it being done by someone else every now and again. I think…actually, I don’t think it’s cooking I love so much as eating!’

Fliss smiled as she spooned some more potatoes onto her plate. ‘There’s something we definitely agree on. Speaking as a GP, I absolutely drink too much, and I probably eat too much as well…and almost certainly I eat the wrong foods. Just don’t tell any of the patients, or I’ll never be able to look them in the eye and offer nutritional advice ever again!’

‘Especially if they’re as stubborn as Flo.’

‘Florence…’ Fliss’s smile broadened. ‘She’s one in a million, that lady. Keeps me on my toes. Not as a GP – she’s fit as a flea and will outlast us all – but as a neighbour.’

‘But you sent her for tests?’ Ottilie frowned. ‘So maybe not so fit and healthy?’

‘To make you happy,’ Fliss said. ‘And, I suppose, to cover my own backside a bit. It never hurts to be sure, does it? And I have to confess that her dizzy spells are a little concerning. But we’re not going to talk shop all night, are we?’

‘We might talk shop a bit. I thought that was why you invited me over.’

‘I invited you over to get to know you. And to give you the heads-up on the village. If you’re going to live in Thimblebury, I think it’s only fair to warn you about the quirks and idiosyncrasies that the vast majority of the residents seem to be blessed with.’

---