Page 4 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

‘There’s more money in the tourists that come to see them. I’ve got a little walking trail – families can take them for a stroll. Kids love it. It’s still early in the season, a bit quiet yet – won’t get going properly until July and August, but bookings are picking up.’

‘I bet they do. I’d love it! I’ll have to come up and see them before you get very busy. So you do that on your own? Sounds like a lot.’

He let out a chuckle. ‘I know I look ancient, but I manage all right. I’ve got my daughters and their husbands too. I let them have bits of land for their houses, and they repay me by working the farm when I need help.’

‘Sounds like a pretty good arrangement to me.’ Ottilie smiled.

‘So you’ll be taking Wordsworth Cottage then?’

‘Yes, right again.’

If Ottilie had come looking for anonymity, it seemed she wasn’t going to find it. Village nurse was hardly the job for that anyway, but since Josh’s death she’d spent so much time alone, the potential of being a part of a community again felt like it would be a welcome change.

Plenty of people had done their best to support her, of course – friends, family, colleagues – and so it was hardly their fault she’d felt so isolated in her grief. The simple fact was, many of them had only been a part of her life since Josh had been in it and, even if they hadn’t, there was always some connection, something that made them remind her of him. And in the background was Ottilie’s old people-pleasing instincts, despite her pain, not wanting to be the person who made others feel uncomfortable, not wanting to transmit her sorrow to anyone else, not wanting them to suffer because she was suffering. Her mum had seen it and told her to lean on those who wanted to help, because they did want to help, but Ottilie simply couldn’t do it. In the end, there had been too much against her moving forward in Manchester. She didn’t want to stay in the home she’d shared with Josh or work at the hospital where he’d died. And there were other complications too, fears she couldn’t bring herself to say out loud, not even to her closest family.

‘It’s a nice size,’ he said. ‘Good for a family. Harold and Doreen managed to raise three there, no trouble.’ He shook his head wonderingly. ‘Their oldest went off to work in Exeter, you know, and they decided to go with him. Can’t fathom it myself, at their age. You’d want to stay put. Anyway…you’ll have plenty of room for your family.’

‘That’s good to know, but it’s just me.’

Perhaps something of her inner pain showed in her face, because the man suddenly seemed unsure of himself, as if he felt he’d crossed a line he hadn’t been aware had existed.

‘Not married then?’

‘I was,’ Ottilie said bleakly. ‘He died.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘It’s all right.’ Ottilie tried to smile to reassure him, but the effort was too much. Josh’s loss was still so raw for all the months that had passed since that horrendous day. She tried to move forward a little more every day, and she often convinced herself that she had, but the grief was always there, filling the dark spaces, showing itself whenever she dared to look. ‘If you don’t ask questions, then you don’t learn anything about anyone, do you?’

Victor looked unconvinced. He sniffed and then shifted awkwardly to swap the hand that rested on the long handle of his mallet.

Ottilie tried harder to produce that smile, to reinforce her point. She was fine. Totally fine. People would ask – it was only natural – and she would tell them what happened because there was no point in hiding it. She would tell them how her soul mate, her one true love, her everything had been ripped from her life in the cruellest instant, and it would be fine. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t their fault. Did they deserve to be at the sharp end of the anger and resentment that sometimes took her in unguarded moments? Maybe it was down to the universe – whatever that was or meant, because people said the universe did this or that, but did it really? The only person she could get angry at was the man who’d attacked him on duty that day, but as they hadn’t caught anyone yet, Ottilie didn’t even have that.

‘Got much to move in?’ Victor asked. ‘I could rally the troops if you need a hand.’

‘I think I’ll be all right. The removal van’s following.’

‘Ah, they’ll do it for you?’

‘The amount it cost to hire, I should hope so! But if you’re looking for an excuse to come over, I’d love you and your family to visit so I can get to know you better. The kettle will be the first thing I unpack – can’t survive without my tea.’

‘You’ll fit right in here then. I’m sure the wife will be itching to come over.’

‘I’d like to meet her – I have a feeling I’ll like her. I’m looking forward to getting to know everyone in time. Bring her over whenever you get a minute.’

‘You might regret saying that.’ Victor’s smile was easier. ‘Nobody in Thimblebury needs much of an invitation to come and nosy at you.’

‘Honestly, that’s sort of what I’m hoping for. This is all new to me – upping sticks and moving to the countryside – so a few friendly faces will be most welcome.’

‘Oh, you’ll get all that and more round here.’

Ottilie’s reply was stolen by the rumble of a lorry coming down the road and heading in their direction.

‘Looks like my removal van is going to beat me there,’ she said as they watched it rattle past, a cloud of dust and fumes in its wake that seemed a crime as it climbed into the clear blue sky to dissipate above the valley. ‘I suppose that means I ought to get a move on. I can’t have them sitting outside waiting for me to open up.’

‘Make them earn their money, eh?’

‘I was thinking that they’d want a pot of tea, but you might have a point about that. The quicker my stuff’s in, the quicker I can get settled.’

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