It was delicious, and for someone who didn’t think she had an appetite, Helen devoured her slice with remarkable ease.
They spent another hour with Hilda, and Oliver talked openly about things that were happening in the surrounding villages, things that he thought might interest Hilda.
Her face lit up as she joined in the conversation, talking about people she’d known since she was a girl. But when they finally rose to leave there was no missing the desolation in her eyes and Helen found it hard to tear herself away.
‘I don’t like leaving her there on her own,’ she confessed, and Oliver sighed wearily.
‘I know. It really gets to you, doesn’t it?’
‘Would she move house? She seemed quite animated when you talked about things that were happening. This is a pretty lonely spot. Perhaps if she was in the centre of town she wouldn’t feel so isolated.’ Helen frowned, remembering what Hilda had said about being afraid to go on the bus in the winter.
‘She and Barry lived in that house for the whole of their marriage.’
‘But she doesn’t have Barry anymore,’ Helen said softly. ‘She needs company. She needs to get involved in the community.’
Oliver gave her a thoughtful look. ‘To be honest, it never even occurred to me to suggest that she think about moving. She’s lived in that cottage since she married Barry so I assumed that she wouldn’t want to leave it.’
‘But her life has changed.’ Helen brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. And perhaps she can’t build a new life if she’s still surrounded by the old one.’
She frowned, realising that she could be easily talking about herself, and Oliver’s blue eyes gleamed with understanding.
‘So you think my Hilda should throw out her stiletto heels?’
Helen smiled. ‘Something like that.’
‘Well, it’s certainly a thought.’
‘At least you know about her and you’re keeping an eye on her.’ Helen gave a wry smile. ‘I have to confess that in London, I don’t think anyone would have checked on her unless she’d called the surgery.’
‘Hilda has never called the surgery,’ Oliver said dryly, unlocking his car and dumping his bag inside. ‘Hilda would rather die quietly than bother anyone. She’d just become steadily more and more depressed.’
But that wasn’t going to happen while Oliver was around.
As Oliver fastened his seat-belt his hand brushed hers and Helen looked at him, suddenly noticing the thickness of his dark lashes and the creases around his eyes.
He was gorgeous.
Confused by her own thoughts, she looked away quickly, her heart thudding steadily in her chest.
Two weeks ago she’d assumed that she was going to be spending the rest of her life with David. How could she so quickly find another man attractive?
She’d never been the sort of girl to flit from one romance to another.
David had been her first proper boyfriend.
Quickly she turned her attention back to Hilda. ‘I suppose it’s important to just keep watching her.’
‘Oh, I’m watching her,’ Oliver said calmly. ‘It’s very easy to dismiss depression in the elderly. You say to yourself, “Well, she’s old and lonely, what do you expect?” whereas, in fact, a proportion of elderly patients will have a clinical depression that can be helped by medication.’
‘But you haven’t prescribed anything for her yet?’
Oliver shook his head. ‘And I don’t want to unless I’m sure she needs it. But I will if I have to.’
Helen nodded. ‘If you like, I could do some digging around to see if there are any suitable properties.’
Oliver shot her a curious look. ‘You don’t know the area.’
‘If I’m seriously going to be working here then I’d better hire myself a car,’ Helen said practically, ‘in which case I’ll have the means to get out and explore.’