Page 76 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

Now she was here, she felt that – at least while they were little – it would be an amazing place to bring up a family, but she was beginning to see that what seemed idyllic to her might not be to a youngster who needed more excitement than Thimblebury could offer. She could name a handful of people just off the top of her head who’d witnessed loved ones moving away. She thought about all the plans she’d been making for projects like the mother and baby group before disaster had struck the village. All on hold for the time being, but would they make any difference to people like Chloe in the end? Would something like that make Chloe feel less isolated, less cut off from the wider world? Ottilie would never say it to Stacey, but she could see a day when Chloe would leave, baby or not, and perhaps, to a certain extent, she understood it.

‘It’s a good day for it,’ Victor said.

Ottilie looked at the sky through the mud-splattered windscreen of the tractor. Blue as the day she’d first arrived but warmer, the sun higher. She wondered if the heatwave that had caused the downpour would return. It would dry things out, as long as it didn’t bring another storm.

‘Don’t you worry,’ he added, perhaps sensing her misgivings. ‘We’ll have you sorted and back at home in no time.’

Magnus and Geoff were waiting outside Wordsworth Cottage, having arrived way before anyone else was due.

Ottilie frowned as she climbed down from the tractor.

‘Who’s minding the shop?’

‘Chloe,’ Geoff said. ‘She wanted a bit of ready cash and we wanted to be here, so it was a win-win.’

‘It might be the first time she’s ever wanted to look after the shop for us,’ Magnus said, laughing. ‘She must be desperate.’

‘Or she just really likes you,’ Geoff said. ‘I know with Chloe, it’s not always obvious.’

Silently, Ottilie agreed. Chloe was a pretty closed book for the most part, but whatever her motives for agreeing to look after the shop, she was grateful to have Magnus and Geoff here. Every extra hand would make a huge difference. The fact that they’d trusted Chloe with the shop also spoke volumes of their desire to somehow make things right with Ottilie. It didn’t matter how many times she told him otherwise, Magnus still blamed himself for the fact that so much damage had been done to Ottilie’s house during the storm.

‘Thank you,’ Ottilie said.

‘What for?’ Geoff asked. ‘We haven’t done anything yet.’

‘And you haven’t seen his DIY skills – or lack of them,’ Magnus said, hooking a thumb at Geoff.

‘Don’t need DIY skills to rip out some rotten old floorboards,’ Victor said cheerfully as he pocketed the keys to the tractor and joined them. ‘A bit of elbow grease will do the trick.’

‘He hasn’t got any of that either,’ Magnus said, and Geoff nudged him with mock affront, but then grinned.

‘Well I’m happy you’re here,’ Ottilie said. ‘Extra hands are appreciated. I don’t know what I would have done if everyone hadn’t been so kind.’

‘We do,’ Victor said. ‘You’d have buggered off.’

Magnus nodded. ‘So we all get something out of it, because it means you’re staying in Thimblebury.’

Ottilie still wasn’t used to this kind of affection from people who, really, she barely knew, and it constantly surprised her, but it filled her with warmth just the same. She could never have imagined when she’d packed up her house in Manchester to come here that there could be such an incredible, welcoming community waiting for her. She’d never imagined a community like this could exist anywhere except cosy afternoon films or romance novels, and yet, here it was. People said the world was harder these days, people more selfish and self-absorbed, and perhaps that was true, but Thimblebury showed that it wasn’t quite that bad everywhere.

‘Good morning!’

They all turned to see Fliss’s husband, Charles, walking the lane towards them. Ottilie had only met him once, briefly. He worked long hours for an accountancy firm, and as he didn’t live with Fliss was often missing whenever Ottilie called round to her house. He was quite handsome, in a nerdy-older-man sort of way, rocking up in a strange combination of overalls and smart tweed jacket, his grey hair short everywhere apart from one long section at the front that he swept back and gelled in place.

‘Is this where I sign up for hard labour?’ he asked.

‘You’ve come to help?’ Ottilie asked.

‘I haven’t come to stand around watching,’ Charles replied with a chuckle. ‘Although that might be entertaining. Fliss told me your predicament and I have a few hours to spare this morning, so here I am. I’m quite looking forward to flexing my muscles – it’ll make me feel all manly. It might make Fliss think I’m all manly too, and after thirty-five years of marriage I’m all for new ways of impressing her. She’s a very hard woman to impress, you know.’

Victor grinned. ‘I’ll bet. The best always are. We’re glad to have any hours you can spare.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’ Ottilie gave him a warm smile. ‘Thank you.’

Victor turned to look up the road, and Ottilie was suddenly aware of a rumbling sound. A few seconds later, the outline of another tractor was visible, making its way down the narrow lane towards them.

‘This’ll be our Leon,’ he said as the tractor drew closer.

Ottilie racked her brain for a moment, trying to place Leon. Most likely it was the husband of one of Victor’s daughters, but as yet the opportunities to get to know them had been fewer than they had with others, so she’d only met them once or twice, as she had Fliss’s husband. They’d seemed agreeable enough on the occasions that she had, but both Penny and Melanie and their husbands kept their own company up on their own farmhouses on Victor’s land and rarely came down to socialise in the village.

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