Page 2 of New Dreams for the Village Nurse
The walk back to the surgery took less than ten minutes.
Lavender, their receptionist, looked up from her computer. ‘Some woman’s been on the phone asking about you.’
‘Oh…’ Ottilie shrugged off her coat. She noted her next couple of patients waiting in the seating area. ‘Who was it?’
‘Didn’t give her name. Sorry, Ottilie.’
‘What did she want?’
‘Didn’t want to leave a message either.’
‘Right…a patient maybe? Might have been something a bit personal they didn’t want to discuss with anyone else.’
‘Could have been. It was a bit weird, though. I can’t think of a regular patient who wouldn’t want to at least say who’d called or leave a number for you to call back.’
‘So she didn’t leave a number?’
Lavender shook her head and Ottilie shrugged. It was strange, but she was too busy to worry about it now. If it was important she supposed they’d call back. More likely, it was some sneaky sales rep from a drug company or medical supplier she didn’t currently order from trying to get in to see her through the back door. She certainly couldn’t think of any other reason for the secrecy. Thimblebury surgery already had their approved suppliers, but that never stopped new ones from trying to steal the business.
Ottilie went round to the back of the reception desk and looked over Lavender’s shoulder. ‘Who’s first?’
‘Mrs Icke.’
Ottilie could sense Lavender’s mental eye-roll because she was feeling it too. Mrs Icke was one of her more cantankerous patients. She had a condition that Ottilie liked to call selective deafness – she pretended not to hear things when it suited her, usually when she was being told something she didn’t like.
Lavender opened her desk drawer and pulled out a chocolate bar. ‘Here,’ she said, passing it to Ottilie. ‘Picked you up a treat to soften the blow. If you’re very good, I’ll bring you a cup of tea to go with it.’
Ottilie grinned as she took the bar. ‘My favourite. You know you’re the best receptionist there’s ever been, don’t you?’
‘I try,’ Lavender said with a grin of her own. ‘We’ve got to get through the working day somehow, right?’
As Ottilie started for her room, she noticed Mrs Icke getting up to follow her without waiting to be asked and stifled a sigh of resignation. Lavender looked ready to say something but Ottilie shook her head. It wasn’t worth bothering, and she was more or less ready anyway. For now, at least, her tea and chocolate would have to wait.
Fliss was already in the kitchen at lunchtime heating some leftover stew at the stove. Ottilie could smell the rich sauce on the air. The surgery team always ate together in the hour they closed the doors to patients – it was an old-fashioned practice in some ways, but one Fliss was insistent on. She said it fostered a sense of belonging amongst her staff and that it was a well-needed daily recharge, and Ottilie had never seen any reason to argue with that.
‘I’ve made enough for all of us,’ Fliss said. ‘Lavender’s got bread.’
‘Sounds lovely.’ Ottilie sat down with a weary sigh. ‘I’ve got some cream cake in the fridge if we can fit it in afterwards.’
‘I might be tempted to skip the stew then,’ Fliss said with a light laugh. ‘How was Mrs Icke today?’
‘She was the usual Mrs Icke. Thank goodness there’s only one of her.’
‘Everything else has been all right then?’
‘Yes, pretty much standard.’
Lavender came in with a set of keys. ‘All locked up. That smells amazing.’
‘One of Charles’s recipes,’ Fliss said. ‘The secret’s in the wine.’
Lavender sat down next to Ottilie. ‘Do you two put wine in everything?’
‘Do you know…?’ Fliss replied as she turned off the stove. ‘I do think we might. It would explain how we get through so much of it.’
‘You get through so much of it because you drink so much,’ Lavender said briskly. ‘Don’t forget I’ve been round your house and seen you both in action.’
‘Which house?’ Fliss asked vaguely. ‘Mine or Charles’s?’
