Page 15 of New Dreams for the Village Nurse
‘I think so. I don’t have anything else lined up, and I’m still applying for permanent roles.’
‘Good.’ Fliss nodded thoughtfully. ‘I’d rather have someone who knows the ropes here than keep getting new people in every five minutes. Makes it easier for my staff for one thing.’
‘Not for the patients,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘You were missed. Apparently, if a doctor isn’t you, they can’t possibly be a proper doctor.’
Fliss gave a tight smile. ‘They’ll get over it. I can’t always be here for them.’
Ottilie wondered whether her flippant comment might carry more weight than she was letting on, because Fliss would always want to be there for her patients and would never suggest otherwise. Of course, she joked about them and about being asked to examine people in the village shop and such, but the reality was that she loved the people of this village. Being theirGP carried a special sort of responsibility that she took very seriously.
‘Right, if you’re all coping, then I’m going to head back to the hospital to see Charles. I’ll pop in tomorrow morning.’
‘There’s really no need,’ Simon said.
‘No, you need to think about yourself and Charles,’ Lavender agreed. ‘We’ve got it under control.’
Fliss gave a brief nod. ‘Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow regardless.’
She turned to go.
‘Give our best to Charles, won’t you?’ Ottilie said.
‘I would,’ Fliss said, turning back to them, the first hint of new tears in her eyes, ‘but he’s not conscious. As soon as he’s out of intensive care and awake, I’ll be sure to pass on your good wishes.’
Ottilie exchanged a look of sorrow with Lavender. Fliss had never said he was so poorly, and she’d been so calm and collected Ottilie had never thought to ask. Now she felt guilty and miserable for not having realised sooner that Fliss was putting a very brave face on a terrible situation. At that moment, she couldn’t think of the right thing to say, and so she said nothing, and by the time something had come to mind, Fliss had already gone.
Heath wrapped his hand around Ottilie’s as they walked from her house to Flo’s. A damp fog blanketed the village, heavy droplets caught on cotton-wool air that felt thick enough that they’d have to chop their way through it. Evening was fast approaching, but it was heartening to Ottilie, who always loved summer best, that it came a little later every night. Warm, bright summer evenings were just around the corner, and she waslooking forward to spending them with Heath in her beautiful Lakeland home.
Thinking of all the things they could do, and all the places she hadn’t yet seen that they would visit, lifted her spirits, because, try as she might to be positive, she was troubled and afraid for Fliss and Charles. Fliss had texted her (and presumably Lavender) since her visit to the surgery before they’d closed up and had said that Charles was stable and as good as he could be and that they shouldn’t worry about her – and could they make sure that the locum was available for emergency out-of-hours care? And for ever-practical Fliss, that last point was probably the main reason for texting at all.
Stable was good, wasn’t it? Ottilie thought so, but there could never be any complacency in cases like this. Years of nursing had told her that much. Was Fliss more worried than she let on, or should they take comfort from her apparent hope? Ottilie and Lavender had discussed it as they’d locked all the doors of the surgery, but neither of them felt certain of anything. Lavender had all the usual horror stories to share, of relatives who’d dropped down dead instantly, and though Ottilie hadn’t wanted to hear them, she had to admit she had plenty of her own.
‘It’ll be all right, you know.’ Heath squeezed her hand.
Ottilie looked up at him. God, she was glad not to be going through this alone, as she might once have been forced to do. She was glad to be able to share her fears with him and she was grateful for his quiet encouragement.
‘I hope so. I just feel so helpless.’
‘It doesn’t sound as if she wants your help.’
‘But she must need it.’
‘That might be true, but from what you’ve told me, I don’t think saying that to her is the way to go about things. She sounds proud. Not one for admitting a weakness.’
‘But in a situation this horrible anyone could be forgiven for a bit of weakness. She must know that.’
‘I’m sure she does, but that doesn’t change the sort of person she is. I’m sure she’ll ask if she needs it.’
‘I’m not.’
‘You say she’s super practical, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘So then she’s practical enough to admit when it makes sense to ask for something she needs.’
‘I suppose so.’
Ottilie was silent for a moment as their boots echoed on the lane. There was still a little traffic, the odd car moving through the village as people came home from late shifts at work, but the rush hour – such as it was in Thimblebury – was over and the roads were quiet. Most people were in their homes sitting around tables for evening meals or visiting friends or relatives, as she and Heath would be doing when they got to Flo’s house.
