A week later, Hilda had made an offer on the flat and instructed her solicitor to sell her cottage to the couple next door.
On Friday evening Oliver cooked Helen dinner and they cracked open a bottle of wine.
‘In three weeks you seem to have sorted out the whole community.’ Oliver raised his glass, an odd smile playing around his firm mouth. ‘I couldn’t believe that Anna actually came back to see you.’
‘Twice, actually. In each case complete with diary and peak-flow readings,’ Helen said happily, recalling her discussion with the teenager. ‘And, more importantly, she’s got a date tomorrow.’
‘A date?’ Oliver blinked. ‘How do you know about her love life?’
‘Because her love life is actually an important key to her asthma management,’ Helen said simply. ‘She didn’t want the boy to know she was asthmatic. Anyway, she told him yesterday and it turns out that his sister is asthmatic so suddenly everything is rosy. She’s going clubbing with him and she even brought her outfit to show me and we found a great place to tuck her inhaler.’
Oliver shook his head. ‘You amaze me.’ His eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘Although I have to confess that someone did warn me that you are the local expert on sexual positions.’
Helen blushed but she held his gaze. ‘My conversations with my patients are confidential.’
‘They should be,’ Oliver agreed dryly, topping up her wine, ‘but I have to warn you that it often doesn’t stay that way in a small community. According to Howard Marks, you’re a cross between Florence Nightingale and—’
‘I don’t think I want to hear the rest,’ Helen interrupted him hastily, her cheeks still pink. ‘I just gave him some advice. He didn’t want to talk to you because he’s known you since you were in nappies. But clearly he didn’t mind talking about it afterwards.’
Oliver grinned. ‘Man talk. You know how it is.’
Helen rolled her eyes. ‘Spare me.’
Oliver’s smile faded. ‘And thank you for what you’ve done for Hilda. You wouldn’t believe how many sleepless nights I’ve had over her. I’ve known her all my life and it just didn’t occur to me that she’d want to move. What made you think of it?’
Helen pushed a piece of salmon around her plate. ‘The way I feel about moving here, I suppose. When a place is full of memories, it’s good to leave it.’
Oliver’s blue eyes searched hers. ‘So does that mean that you’re throwing away your stilettos and staying here?’
In another week Bryony would be back from her honeymoon and Oliver’s practice nurse would be back from Australia.
‘I don’t know.’ Helen pulled a face. ‘I don’t even want to think about it, to be honest. I love it here so much.’ She poked her salmon with her fork. ‘This is starting to feel like home. I like the people. I like the way their priorities are different.’
‘So stay.’
She sighed. ‘It isn’t that simple, is it?’
‘Why not?’
She poked her salmon again. ‘Because it feels like running away.’ She pulled a face. ‘I mean, I know that’s exactly what I’ve done, but sooner or later I have to go home and face the music.’
‘Why? Life can be enough of an endurance test without making it worse.’ Oliver frowned. ‘And what has that salmon ever done to you? You’ve chopped it into pieces.’
Helen put down her fork and stared at the food on her plate. ‘I’m not that hungry.’ She looked at him. ‘It’s funny really. I always had a very clear vision of the way my life would be…’
‘And how was that?’ Oliver lounged back in his chair and she gave a slight shrug.
‘Big house, lots of entertaining, children…’
Oliver gave a twisted smile. ‘The corporate wife.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘And was that your vision or your parents’?’
Helen looked at him, startled. It was a question she’d never asked herself before. ‘I suppose I was brought up to think that my life would be like my mother’s.’
‘So who made the decision to marry David?’ Oliver asked evenly. ‘You or your parents?’