Page 22 of New Dreams for the Village Nurse
At the front door, Ottilie knocked briefly and pushed it open, as she did every morning. Darryl was still sitting at the same spot at the table, empty crisp packets littering it and three more mugs with the unmistakable purple stains of blackcurrant juice. Simon gave them a critical once-over. Darryl started to smile at the sight of Ottilie, but it froze halfway to his face when he noticed she wasn’t alone.
‘Who’s that?’ he asked her.
‘This is Dr Stokes. He’s come to see your mum. Is that all right?’
Darryl gave a sullen nod.
Simon strode over and held out his hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Darryl. I’ve heard lots about you.’
Darryl looked at the outstretched hand and then at Ottilie as if for reassurance.
‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘I’ve been telling Dr Stokes how much you like trains.’
At this, Darryl seemed to brighten. He held up the book Ottilie had bought for him. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘There’s loads in here.’
Simon went to look over Darryl’s shoulder as he flicked through it, pointing to each glossy photo and reading out the name of the train.
‘That’s very cool,’ Simon said. ‘Listen, I’m going to take a look at your mum. Why don’t you find the page with your absolute favourite train and show me when I come back down?’
Darryl’s head went down and he began to rip through the pages with a feverish excitement.
Ottilie smiled at Simon. ‘Nicely done,’ she whispered. And then in a louder voice: ‘I’ll show you where to go.’
At the top of the stairs, Ottilie called out, ‘Ann…it’s me. I’ve brought the doctor to see you. Are you awake?’
‘I thought I could hear you…’
Ann’s voice came from beyond the bedroom door. Ottilie pushed it open. Ann was still wrapped up tight in her blankets, her face flushed, but she seemed more lucid.
‘The ibuprofen helped a little bit then?’ Ottilie asked. ‘You seem brighter.’ She turned to Simon. ‘This is Ann. Ann…Dr Stokes.’
‘Oh,’ Ann said. ‘Where’s…’
‘She’s off right now,’ Ottilie said, not wanting to get into it. Clearly gossip from the village took a little while to get up this far, and Ann had probably been in no state to follow it even ifthat wasn’t the case. ‘Dr Stokes is filling in. He’s brilliant, so don’t worry, you’ll be in safe hands.’
‘You’re staying, though?’ Ann asked uncertainly.
Ottilie nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll be just here by the door.’
Ottilie watched as Simon gently encouraged Ann to sit up on her pillows and started to question her. She had to be impressed. He had a bedside manner as pleasant as he seemed to be. She’d enjoyed their walk up to the farm, and she’d been intrigued enough by what few details he’d shared of his life to want to know more. She’d been worried about his cover for Fliss, but she was beginning to realise that she needn’t have been – she could see he was capable and gentle and very thorough. As long as the surgery could keep him for however long Fliss had to be off, they were going to be absolutely fine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was already going dark as afternoon clinic wrapped up, but Ottilie had promised to get some help for Ann, who had been given antibiotics and reassurances by Dr Stokes but was still panicking about the work that needed to be done on the farm.
Her first thought had been Victor and Corrine at Daffodil Farm. They were the closest thing to farming neighbours Ann had and were always brilliant in a crisis. Ottilie recalled how much she’d relied on them when her house had been flooded the previous year, and how they’d been her saving grace. She’d tried the landline but had got no reply, and Victor famously (or infamously, depending on your viewpoint) refused to have a mobile phone because he’d lost so many of them over the years. As Corrine didn’t have one either, and because Ottilie loved to visit them anyway, she decided to go up there straight from work. If she was lucky, she’d get a slice of Corrine’s divine fruit cake and a cup of tea, and if she was even luckier, she might get to visit Victor’s alpaca herd.
It was the third hill she’d climbed that day, and as she made her way up to Daffodil farmhouse, she decided that if she didn’t sleep like a log that night then she might need a doctor’sappointment herself because there had to be something wrong with her.
Corrine was already standing at the front door as Ottilie pushed open the gate.
‘I saw you come over the top there,’ she called. ‘I was saying to Victor only yesterday we hadn’t seen you for a while.’
‘Yes, sorry about that. Things have been a bit hectic.’
Corinne gave a grimace of sympathy. ‘I heard about Dr Cheadle. Such a shame. How is her husband?’
‘Still quite poorly,’ Ottilie said, following Corrine inside and closing the door. The kitchen was warm and welcoming, a spicy sweetness hanging on the air. ‘We’re all hoping for good news but we haven’t had it yet. I’m going to call later to see how she’s doing.’
