Page 9 of New Dreams for the Village Nurse
‘Someone’s very lucky today!’ Ottilie said to Darryl, who was poring over the train book she’d bought him the previous year. It was always open at the breakfast table whenever Ottilie arrived.
Darryl looked up with a goofy grin. He was almost twenty-one now, too big for his skin, all elbows and knees and hair. He wore a permanent look of anxiety, but that was only an outward thing. Ottilie knew him well now and knew that inside he was content with his life, however constrained it might seem to others.
‘Ottilie!’
‘Morning, Darryl. Had your insulin?’
He nodded and then bent right back to his book.
‘Everything all right this morning?’ Ottilie went over to Ann at the stove.
‘With Darryl? Yes, good as gold,’ Ann said, smiling. ‘Apart from that, my bank account is still empty, but what can youdo about that, eh? We’ve got a roof and we’ve got food, so I’ve stopped complaining about the rest.’
Ottilie gave a sympathetic smile. She’d seen Ann’s struggles first-hand over the past few months and she admired her stoicism in the face of them. That didn’t stop her from feeling desperately sorry for her, though. ‘He’s had his medication?’
‘No fuss today. Probably because he knew you were coming. He’s been so much better since you started to call in of a morning. Want a sandwich?’ she added.
‘Not sure I have time, though it smells amazing.’
‘I can give you one for the road.’
‘It’s all right. I can grab?—’
‘Don’t be daft! It’ll only take me a minute. Can you stay for a cup of tea?’
‘Sorry, but I’ve had to walk up today, so it might take me a bit longer to get to work, so I’d better not.’
Ann nodded as she flipped the bacon over. ‘That reminds me, not sure if you’re interested, but I’ve come across an old bike in the barn. Wondered if it might be of use to you for your visits.’
‘Where did that come from?’
‘Oh…’ Ann’s head went down. ‘We used to go cycling, me and Jim. When he died, I couldn’t face going on my own. It’s not rusty or anything – though it might need a bit of a clean – but you’re more than welcome to it. It’s the least we can do for all you’ve done here with Darryl.’
‘Won’t you need it?’
Ann shook her head. ‘I doubt it. Don’t have time to go cycling, even if I wanted to, and it’s not really the same now.’
‘Darryl doesn’t like cycling?’
‘No, he struggles with his balance. And I don’t like to go on my own these days, mostly because I don’t like to leave him. He used to be a lot better when his dad was alive, but as you know…’
Ottilie nodded. She’d already heard the story. Things had taken a turn for the worse when they’d lost Ann’s husband – the farm had got into financial difficulties, and Darryl had struggled to come to terms with his new fatherless life. And poor Ann, who was grieving herself, had been forced to cope with all that on top of her own loss.
‘I haven’t been out on a bike in years,’ Ottilie said.
Ann slid the bacon from the pan onto a slice of bread. ‘Well, the offer’s there if you want it. Don’t want any money for it.’
‘You must have something.’
She shook her head. ‘Wouldn’t hear of it. Could you use it? If you took it off my hands, you’d be doing me a favour really, because I could do with the room in the barn.’
Ottilie was tempted. Having a bike would save taking her car out on calls. It would save money on petrol and having to drive out to get it so often. Thimblebury didn’t have a garage, so the nearest one was on the road out of the village, and it was a pain sometimes to go up there when she had so much else to do. It might be fun, too, to whizz around on a bike. She pictured herself in a flapping navy coat and a white cap and a basket on the front with her leather treatment bag in it, like someone from a fifties TV drama, and the mental image made her want to laugh. Heath would find it hilarious, no doubt, too.
‘I might take you up on that,’ she said finally. ‘Thank you, that’s so kind. I couldn’t take it with me now, but perhaps tomorrow?’
‘That’s all right – give me a chance to clean it up a bit for you.’
‘There’s no need.’
