Page 100 of New Dreams for the Village Nurse
She was laughing so hard she didn’t notice the gate opening and a newcomer entering the garden. But Stacey did, and she suddenly looked anxious. Ottilie’s laughter died at the sight and she turned to look at what could have bothered her friend, only to see Flo standing by the gate with a cling-film-covered plate.
‘I thought I’d come along after all,’ she said, clearly talking to Stacey but looking at Ottilie. ‘That’s if you actually meant to invite me.’
‘I asked, didn’t I?’ Stacey went over. ‘Of course it was an invite. It’d be pretty silly to ask if I didn’t want you to come.’
‘But people do that, don’t they? I’ll ask such and such because I have to and they won’t come anyway.’
‘Not in this case. Let me take that plate from you.’
‘It’s chips,’ Flo said, handing it over. ‘I made too many for my tea last night.’
Stacey took the plate with a vaguely confused look. ‘Thank you,’ she said, though she was probably thinking the same thing as Ottilie, that she had no clue why anyone would bring leftover chips to a barbecue, and that unless someone performed some kind of culinary miracle they’d probably taste disgusting by now.
As Stacey took Ottilie’s basket and Flo’s random plate of chips to the kitchen, Flo made a beeline for Ottilie.
‘Hello,’ Ottilie said. ‘How have you been keeping?’
‘As well as can be expected in the circumstances.’
Ottilie didn’t ask what those circumstances were. She didn’t want to ruin this by reminding Flo of why she’d been avoiding her; she was only glad that finally Flo had seen fit to be somewhere she knew Ottilie would be and she was willing to talk to her.
‘That’s good,’ Ottilie said. She was casting around for something else to say when Flo jumped into the gap.
‘Didn’t see the point in us being at odds any longer. What’s done is done. Heath’s all right now. He’s getting on with things.’
‘Is he?’
‘Knows he did wrong and there’s no way back. He’s made his peace with that, he says.’
‘Oh.’
Ottilie was blindsided by the idea that Heath was already over her. It sounded as if that was what Flo was trying to say. She didn’t know how she felt about that. On the one hand, it made things simpler, but on the other, the notion saddened her. Had she really meant so little to him? It had been only weeks since they’d broken up and, while she didn’t want to hear he was suffering, she perhaps wanted to know that it had taken some getting over.
Ottilie wondered if he might even try to get back with Mila. Surely not? But where Heath was concerned, she couldn’t be certain of anything.
Ottilie suddenly felt silly for ever imagining that Heath might still have feelings for Mila. Had that been a factor in her decision to end things? She hated to admit it, but perhaps unconsciously it had been. Of course, Mila had caused enough trouble – even who she was related to was trouble enough – but Ottilie had been plagued by the idea that Heath hadn’t quite got over her. Had it clouded her judgement? Perhaps, but even so, it was too late to do anything about it now. Even if Ottilie wanted to try again, it sounded as if Heath had moved on from her too.
Her attention was caught by Chloe leaping up from her seat next to Simon and racing to the garden gate. There stood a young man, with short dark hair and very blue eyes, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that looked too big for him, the nerves as he surveyed the gathering obvious in his face.
This had to be Oliver, and Chloe confirmed it by squealing his name as she flew over to the gate.
‘I thought you’d chickened out!’ she continued as she unfastened the gate for him. He gave an uncertain shrug, his eyes everywhere. Ottilie didn’t blame him because everyone was looking and he must have felt as if he was being scrutinised like a lab specimen.
Once in the garden and the gate closed again, Chloe wasted no time taking him to meet her mum inside. Ottilie could see them having a conversation through the kitchen window. It looked to be going well – at least, there was a lot of nervous smiling going on. Then she brought him outside, straight to Ottilie, who was nearest the house.
‘This is Ottilie,’ Chloe said. ‘She’s the one I told you about, who helped me have Mackenzie.’
At this, Oliver seemed awed as he said hello, and a warm kick of pride grew in Ottilie. Chloe had never appeared to feel they shared a bond over Mackenzie’s birth, as she’d done – certainly, she’d never voiced it – but perhaps she’d only been too inward-looking and shy to say so.
‘This is Ollie,’ Chloe said to Ottilie and then, as a cursory acknowledgement, to Flo too.
‘That’s going to be confusing if you’re hard of hearing,’ Flo said.
‘What?’ Chloe asked.
‘Ollie and Ottilie in the same room. It’s a good job Mildred Icke isn’t here.’
Ottilie smiled at the reference to the bane of her working life. ‘Isn’t it?’
