Page 4 of The Village Midwife
‘And fun.’
‘That too. We’re like a little family. Not in a cliquey way. We’re close, but they’re very welcoming to newcomers to the team. I think you’ll slot right in.’
‘IfI decide to work there.’
Ottilie grinned again. ‘Yes, of course,ifyou come to work with us.’
The road ahead forked, and their route took them down an even narrower one than they’d previously driven. It twisted and turned in unexpected ways, overhanging trees now creating a dappled tunnel, daylight breaking through in bursts where the branches thinned. After a few minutes of amenable silence, Ottilie spoke again, pointing to some roadside fencing.
‘Daffodil Farm is up there, where the alpaca herd are kept. That’s Victor and Corrine’s place. They’re lovely. I hope we get time to pop up there and meet them before you have to go back. I’ll take you along to Hilltop too. Ann is a sweetie. She’s got herwork cut out with her son, Darryl, but she still manages to make a big fuss of you when you go up there.’
‘How old is her son?’
‘Early twenties. He has complex needs – learning difficulties, diabetes…I could go on. I suspect there are things that haven’t been officially diagnosed too. He’s a great kid, though, once you get past those issues and get to know him. You’ll definitely have to meet Geoff and Magnus at the shop. They’re our local power couple.’
Zoe smiled. ‘I think you might have mentioned them once or twice. I’m looking forward to meeting them. Heath’s grandma too.’
‘God, be careful what you wish for!’ Ottilie said with a laugh. ‘Flo is an acquired taste!’
‘I’m still looking forward to meeting her, if only to see if she lives up to her reputation.’
‘I’m sure she will. I’m sure we’ll barely get out of the car before she’s upon us, like one of those cloaked things out of Harry Potter.’
‘Cloaked thing? Like a wizard?’
‘No…You know, the big flying hooded things that suck the joy out of everyone they touch.’
Zoe had to laugh properly this time. ‘Dementors? God, this is so nice. It’s good to have a normal silly conversation that doesn’t involve soul-searching, or blame, or reminders of what I’ve lost.’
As Ottilie continued filling Zoe in on the residents of Thimblebury, the tiny village nestled between the hills of the Lake District that she now called home, Zoe watched the horizon, noticing as rooftops began to appear, a haphazard cluster of stone cottages soon following.
‘Here we are,’ Ottilie said, nodding to a sign that said:Welcome to Thimblebury. Please drive carefully through our village.
Zoe was at once captivated by the tranquillity of narrow roads, so clean and ordered there had to be an army of elves patrolling when everyone was asleep, keeping it tidy. Back in Manchester, there was good and bad, but rarely anywhere as pin-neat and charming as this. And yet, for all the neatness, there was something bohemian about it too, an air of secret, hidden chaos and fun that only added to the charm. She noticed a garden full of household oddments being used as planters: ancient tin baths, chimney pots and shoe racks, amongst many other things.
‘That’s Flo’s,’ Ottilie said.
‘There’s an interesting look going on in the garden.’
‘I call it junk rather than interesting, but, weirdly, I think it suits her. I don’t hate it – at least, not at her place, though I’d hate it at mine. Wordsworth Cottage is just up ahead.’
‘I can’t wait to see it. I’m still having a hard time imagining you as a country bumpkin.’
‘Believe me, if Ottilie five years ago could see me now, she would have a hard time too. I never imagined myself somewhere like this, but now I’m here I can’t see myself anywhere else.’
‘You almost left though, didn’t you? You said so.’
‘Twice, actually. Only because I thought I would have to.’
‘But you’re glad things worked out?’
‘Very.’ Ottilie slowed the car and then pulled to a gentle stop outside a charming double-fronted cottage, with a gated, meandering path leading to a front door shaded by trees. ‘Here we are – my little house.’
Zoe gazed up at the house as she got out of the car, and for a startling moment she saw for herself a life that, like Ottilie, she’d never imagined she’d want. ‘It’s so pretty! Have you done much to it?’
‘After the flood the first year I was here, there were a lot of repairs, and I’ve modernised it a bit, but not much apartfrom that. It’s funny, when I first got here, I wanted to change everything, but that’s because I still had my city head on. Now that I’m settled, I don’t mind that it’s a bit…’
‘I think they call it cottage core.’
