Page 105 of New Dreams for the Village Nurse
Ottilie stared at him. He thought he’d fall apart when he saw her? Did that mean it was happening now? He seemed fine – relaxed, in fact. At least, more relaxed than she was. He wanted to get along…Was that all it was? And really only for Flo’s sake?
‘It’s good to see you,’ he added. ‘You look well. I mean, is it OK to say so? I’ll admit, I don’t quite know how to do this.’
‘No…I mean it’s fine. You too…you look well, I mean.’
Ottilie couldn’t deny that he did. He looked more than well; he looked handsome, and it made her heart ache to see the soft brown eyes that she’d been lost in so many times before, the hair she always longed to run her hands through, the chest she’d lain against to sleep and woken up on the following morning, the smile that would greet her and lift her mood no matter what else was going on. She couldn’t deny that she’d missed him, though she hadn’t realised until this exact moment just how much. She felt as if all the breath had left her lungs and that she couldn’t pull in enough air to refill them, as if the room around them – even the world – had fallen away and been replaced by his face.
‘I’d better…’ He gestured to Flo, who was innocently scoring the skins of some chicken breasts, pretending she hadn’t noticed what was going on, though she could hardly fail to. Nobody in the room could have missed it, though everyone pretended to have seen nothing. It was the strangest, most surreal situation Ottilie had ever been in. ‘…See what Gran wants me to do.’
Driven to distraction simply knowing he was in the kitchen with her, Ottilie’s mind worked at a million miles an hour as she chopped. What was going on here? Why had he turned up now, after all this time? Was it really as simple as he’d made out? Or was there another agenda? And if there was and it involved her somehow, what did that make her feel? Pleased? Annoyed? A little hoodwinked? Or did she secretly hope he was there for her because it was only now, seeing him across the room and longing to be closer, that she understood she’d never really been over him at all.
Someone switched the radio on, and Stacey began to sing along to some eighties power ballad. Flo grumbled for her to shut up and then everyone else weighed in, until the volunteers were all involved in friendly banter. Ottilie was silent. Whenever she dared steal a look at Heath, she guessed he’d been doing the same, because his head would go down, back to his task,as if he’d been caught out. In the main hall, she could hear the preparations continuing and then later people starting to arrive.
Magnus came into the kitchen and began to take glass jugs from the cupboard.
‘You want some water for the tables?’ Ottilie asked.
‘Yes, and some other bits too – pop and whatever for the children.’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘I’ll help.’ Heath dried his hands on his apron and came over. ‘I’ve finished mashing.’
Now Ottilie knew a plot was afoot, but to her annoyance, she couldn’t help but feel pleased. Excited even. Whatever happened here, she couldn’t let herself forget the reasons they were no longer together because they’d been very good ones, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel the seduction. The fact he was clearly making an effort wasn’t helping in that regard either, and it would be too easy to let him get under her skin again.
They went out to the main room together with trays of drinks. Every so often Ottilie would look up to see him turn his face away as if he’d been watching her, and she’d flush in the most frustrating way. At least in a rapidly filling room of people she was safe from herself, wasn’t she? She couldn’t go and do anything silly in such a public place, could she?
She caught him perhaps four or five times looking her way, and when she searched for him again, not wanting to but unable to stop herself, he was close, working his way down the trestle table she was working her way up. At some point they’d meet, and they did. He smiled uncertainly at her as they both set jugs of water side by side on the table, hands grazing at the same time, a thrill like an electric shock going through her at his touch.
‘Sorry…’ he mumbled.
‘No, I’m sorry…’
Only she wasn’t. She wasn’t sorry at all. She wanted to do it again. She wanted more than that.
Ottilie, girl, get a grip! You’ve been on your own too long!
They both returned to the kitchen for more supplies. Ottilie busied herself making up jugs of cordial while Heath fetched bottles of cola from the fridge. The kitchen was beginning to smell divine, roast chicken and beef and potatoes and all manner of vegetables and a nut roast for the odd few who didn’t want meat.
‘My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut!’ Flo called out to anyone who was interested. ‘I hope we’re going to be able to sit down and eat with everyone else, seeing as we cooked it.’
‘I’ll serve up,’ Ottilie said. ‘I don’t mind waiting for a while.’
‘Me too,’ Stacey said, echoed by Simon, who was now assisting in the kitchen.
‘So you should be able to, Gran,’ Heath said.
‘You could go and eat with Flo,’ Ottilie told him, but he glanced briefly at his gran, and an understanding seemed to pass between them before she answered for him.
‘I said I’d go and sit with Victor and Corrine.’
‘I can wait too,’ Heath added. ‘I’ll eat later, after everyone else has been served.’
Magnus came back to the kitchen again. ‘How are we doing? Nearly ready? We’re all ready out there.’
‘Yes, yes, stop fussing,’ Flo grumbled. ‘It’s only a bit of dinner.’
‘Yes, and there’s fifty hungry folks out there,’ Magnus replied, frowning.
