Ellie looked at Patrick thoughtfully. ‘Do you really believe that?’
He nodded. ‘She’s clearly not the girl he thought she was. Or maybe she once was but has had her head turned by the media attention.’
‘But what about the whole street corner thing? He was so desperate to win her back.’
‘People can change. I’m sure that nothing alters a man quite like sitting on a freezing street corner day and night waiting for someone who returns but, it turns out, for the wrong reasons. Not to mention that the alternative is a hot newspaper reporter.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’m not the one getting themselves knocked down by a car just to stay out of his way because it hurts so much to see him.’
‘OK, you’re being facetious now.’
Patrick flashed a lopsided grin.
‘He loves Gemma,’ Ellie concluded miserably.
‘I’m not so sure. Tell him how you feel. I think you’ll be surprised by the outcome. What have you got to lose? At worst he’ll refuse you and you’ll never have to see him again.’
‘He’s asked her to marry him!’
Patrick shook his head slowly. ‘Yeah. Buggered if I know the answer to that. We’re a funny breed, aren’t we, us men?’
Ellie sighed. ‘I’ve got more important things to worry about now anyway. When I’m out of here and back on my feet, I have a mum and dad to reunite, a couple of best friends to apologise to and an aunt to bury. I think I might be a bit too busy to figure out what delusions are going through Ben Kelly’s head right now.’
‘There’s nothing like a bit of tragedy to put everything else into perspective. Do you know when your aunt’s funeral is yet?’
‘No. I suppose we’ll have to wait until the death certificate is issued before we can even think about dates. Not that I know a lot about it. But I know that Hazel put a lot of arrangements in place herself when she first found out that she was incurable. I’ll bet she’s organised everything down to the last sandwich at the wake to save me and mum doing it.’ She stifled a yawn.
‘Uh oh, here we go. Bedtime for the lightweight, is it?’
‘It’s been a long day but somehow I can’t see me getting much sleep tonight.’ Ellie rubbed a hand gingerly along her ribs. ‘Even without all the drama of today and the bloody constant noise of this place, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the chest by a life-size Buckaroo. It’s not exactly conducive to sleep.’
‘I can imagine. Want me to get you a cup of tea from the vending machine down the hall?’
Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘Have you tasted that tea? It’s disgusting.’
‘That may be…’ Patrick reached into his coat pocket and produced a small bottle. He sloshed it around with a cheeky grin. ‘But it will taste a whole lot better with a drop or two of this in it. Might help you sleep too.’
‘Whisky!’
‘Shhhh!’ Patrick scolded, his expression resembling that of a naughty schoolboy more with every second. ‘We don’t want to get caught.’
‘It’s a good job you’re already married to such a lovely woman, or you would have to marry me immediately.’
‘I’m sure there’s a cult we can join to make that possible. If only Fiona wouldn’t hack off my balls and run them through the blender for mentioning it.’
‘Easy, Tiger.’ Ellie couldn’t help but laugh despite herself. ‘Go and get me that tea, you bad boy.’
Ellie closed the front door behind her with a contented sigh. Every limb felt like it was filled with lead, and her chest ached, but at least she was home. Miranda had already disappeared down the hallway with her bags. Ellie watched her go for a moment, breathing in the peculiarly personal smell of her own house. It seemed like years since she had been here even though it was only a matter of days. She thought back to the day she signed the mortgage agreement, a year ago. The day she had finally found her feet and fled her parents’ house. The walls of her hallway were the first to be painted. Red, so that they almost glowed like fire in the filtered light of her Moroccan styled shade. Her mother hated the colour. It made Ellie love it all the more.
Ellie wandered down the hall to her kitchen. The door to the living room was on her right. This had been the room she decorated next. Behind that door were walls of white with one feature wall of bold red poppies, wooden floors stripped bare and varnished a rich oak and dotted with colourful rugs. Ellie smiled at the thought of it, the one room her mum could just about tolerate without grimacing. At the end of the hall was Ellie’s kitchen. All the melamine units had come out of this room a few months ago and she had replaced them with shiny chrome and white like a restaurant-inspired kitchen she had once seen in an interior design magazine. She bought appliances so trendy and unnecessary that she didn’t even know what some of them did herself. It was tiled halfway up the wall in a colourful mishmash of primary colours, the top half painted in the palest of yellows for a splash of warmth. Her mother hated this room too, but she bustled about in it now, trying her best not to show her irritation that Ellie had decided she wanted to go home and not stay with her after all (Ellie had secretly hoped that her absence from the maternal home would leave a space only her father could fill), and her sadness at the grief, still raw, of losing not only her sister, but her best friend.
‘You can go and lie down on the sofa if you want, and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.’
‘I’m sick of lying down,’ Ellie said as she lowered herself awkwardly onto a kitchen chair. ‘I’d rather sit here as long as I can stand it. Besides, the doctors said that lying around would cause muscle wastage and that I need to be as active as I can manage. I can already feel my legs disappearing after only a couple of days in bed.’ Ellie shuffled for a moment, changing position in tiny movements until she felt comfortable. ‘It’s just a shame bum wastage doesn’t come with lying in bed too.’
Miranda flicked the kettle on and ran a finger along the worktops. I’ll give the place a wipe down while that boils. Things soon get dusty when they’re not done for a couple of days and these steel worktops show every mark.’
‘Sit down, Mum.’
‘I will, as soon as I’ve cleaned here. And I expect your bedding needs to be aired too, as you haven’t been here for a couple of days. It’s a good job I called in first to put the heating on or we’d have been dithering –’
‘Mum!’ Ellie held up a hand. ‘Please… I’m sure the bedding is just fine. The heating will dry everything out and it doesn’t matter if the worktops are a little dusty until tomorrow because I have no intention of cooking this evening anyway.’
Miranda was silent as she cast a critical eye over her daughter. ‘You’re practically skin and bone. You need to eat something.’
‘Yes… but I can get a takeout.’
‘Home cooked is best.’
‘It is,’ Ellie agreed. ‘But not tonight. I don’t want you stressing out and we have other things to discuss. I’ve got menus in that drawer…’ Ellie gestured to the unit nearest the dishwasher. ‘We can get it delivered, save either of us going out again in this rain.’
Miranda rummaged in the drawer and pulled out a handful of different flyers. ‘Chinese, Indian, Thai…Good grief, do you collect these as a hobby or something?’
Ellie smiled. ‘We seem to get them through the door every day on this street. And I keep a good selection because you never know when you might fancy a greasy kebab.’
‘Hmmm.’ Miranda dropped the pile onto the table and went back to the cupboard for mugs.
‘So…’ Ellie said as casually as she could whilst she perused an Indian menu. ‘Did Dad stay over last night?’
‘On the sofa,’ Miranda replied, her eyes fixed firmly on the task of making drinks.
‘That’s one thing you can’t deny, he’s always good in a crisis.’
‘He’s terrible,’ Miranda sniffed. ‘He breaks out in hives at the merest sign of a blocked drain.’
‘I don’t mean that sort of crisis. I
mean, when you’re down, he comes running. You’ve always got a shoulder to cry on when he’s around.’
Miranda didn’t reply as she pulled a bottle of milk from the fridge and sniffed at it. ‘Off.’ She poured it down the sink. ‘You have the powdered milk I bought you somewhere?’
‘In that top cupboard,’ Ellie said, waving a hand in the general direction of the dry goods cupboard. Pulling her new phone from her pocket, she turned it over in her hands, admiring with a small smile her dad’s gift. ‘He had to go and get the upgrade, didn’t he? I’d have been happy for a straight replacement – this must have cost him a small fortune.’
‘Probably spent our second mortgage on it,’ Miranda replied.
Ellie looked up sharply. ‘That was a bit below the belt.’
Miranda sighed as she placed Ellie’s mug in front of her. ‘I know. Ignore me.’
Ellie raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re admitting it? Bloody hell, times have changed.’
Miranda took a seat across from her. She traced a finger around the rim of her cup as she stared into its depths. ‘Perhaps he hasn’t been completely useless this week.’
‘Now I’ve seen everything,’ Ellie said with a wry smile. Miranda looked up and returned it with a small one of her own.
‘I’ve lost my sister and almost lost my daughter in the same week. I suppose I was glad of the support when he offered it. I don’t think I would have coped alone.’
At any other time, Ellie would have reminded her mother that her accident was far from a potential fatality but as Miranda was as close to singing her husband’s praises as she was ever likely to be, Ellie thought better than to interrupt her current positive train of thought.
‘Does this mean he’s forgiven?’
Miranda chewed her lip, her attention back on the contents of her mug. ‘One step at a time, eh?’
‘She is bloody tedious,’ Kasumi sighed as she sat curled on the corner of Ellie’s sofa where she had been for the previous hour. She had arrived unexpected and unannounced, and Ellie was grateful she hadn’t had to worry about what she’d have to say to her. As it was, they had quickly settled back to the easy banter and affection that usually characterised their friendship. Ellie was incredibly grateful for the company and that Kasumi had made the effort.
‘Who?’ Ellie asked.
‘Claudia!’ Kasumi rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, have you been listening at all?’
‘Sorry. Claudia… of course. This is the same Claudia who works at the tapas bar?’
‘Yes. I mean, she’s sweet and everything, but it’s like having a pathetically over-loyal puppy in your midst.’
Ellie gave a small smile. ‘I told Jethro she liked him that night she served us at the bar. You could see it a mile off – she was practically drooling over him. He said I was being ridiculous.’
Kasumi shot her a sideways glance. ‘I wish you hadn’t planted that particular gem of an idea in his head. Now I’m doomed to double dates with her forever. Probably have to be bridesmaid for her and everything. I’ll be vexed beyond reason if I’m forced to be godmother to their first child.’
Ellie couldn’t help but laugh. ‘They’ve only been out a couple of times. That’s usually about the time when it goes tits-up.’ She fixed Kasumi with an earnest look. ‘I’m just glad the whole thing that happened with us didn’t become something excruciating. I don’t know what I’d do without you two in my life.’
‘Me too,’ Kasumi agreed. ‘I need you and Jethro just as you are: my absolute best and very definitely not-a-couple friends.’
‘We were both pretty drunk, I suppose.’
‘Are you terribly unhappy without this man?’
‘You mean Ben?’
Kasumi nodded.
‘Yes,’ Ellie said, her frankness surprising even her. ‘But I suppose I’ll get over it.’
‘And you’re sure all this business about the wedding is true?’
Ellie shrugged. ‘Why wouldn’t it be? They’re meant for each other and whatever I thought existed between Ben and me was a lie. Just like Gemma said, he was lonely and I happened to be around.’
‘What about the flowers?’
‘It was nothing more than a friendly gesture.’
Kasumi screwed up her perfect nose in an expression that told Ellie she thought her theories were a cart full of steaming horse poo, but she didn’t argue.
Ellie drained her wine glass and inspected it with mock solemnity. ‘Ooops, looks as though we need supplies.’ She began to push herself slowly up from the other corner of the sofa but Kasumi leapt to her feet.
‘Stay there. I’m supposed to be nursey this weekend.’
‘Is that what you told Sam you were coming up to Millrise for?’
‘Oh yes. I left him with all sorts of delicious imaginings of me in uniform.’
Ellie giggled. ‘You’re filthy.’
Kasumi gazed down at her fondly. ‘It’s so lovely to see you laugh again.’
‘There hasn’t been much to laugh about, that’s for sure.’
‘Things will be better once the funeral is over.’
‘I wish I could be so sure about that.’
‘Hold that thought for a moment.’ Kasumi disappeared into Ellie’s kitchen and returned minutes later with a fresh bottle of red. ‘You can’t sort your life out with a clear head. Them’s the rules, you know.’
‘It’s not my life I need to sort out.’ Ellie held her glass up for Kasumi to fill.
‘Oh? So yours is perfect already?’
‘Mine is already beyond sorting.’
‘Nobody’s life is beyond my expert coaching.’
‘Perhaps you can visit my mum and dad then and weave your magic there.’
Kasumi reclaimed her spot on the sofa and tucked her legs beneath her in one deft movement. Coiled in her corner, her silhouette had a certain feline grace to it. Even half-drunk, she was uncommonly beautiful. ‘They’re still at odds?’
Ellie sighed. ‘I don’t know. I think we might have made a breakthrough. It’s just very sad that it took a death to get there. Although we’re still nowhere near where they were before all the trouble started.’
‘They’ll work it out,’ Kasumi commented sagely. ‘They’ve got too many years behind them to throw it away. And they always seemed really happy before.’
‘They had their ups and downs like everyone. But I think they were.’
‘In that case, in their hearts they’ll realise it’s worth fighting for.’
Ellie smiled. ‘You always were the glass half-full girl.’
Kasumi stretched out a leg and prodded Ellie playfully with her big toe. ‘You’re next.’
‘Please no.’
‘You can’t tell me that you’re happy sitting on your own every night.’
‘Things would be far less complicated if I was sitting on my own every night.’
‘Hmmm. I suppose that’s true. But I have to say, it’s bound to be complicated when you set your sights on the wrong men all the time.’
‘I know. I’ve well and truly learned my lesson there. No more wrong men. In fact, no more men at all.’
‘Ooooh, going for a lady next time?’ Kasumi raised her eyebrows.
Ellie laughed. ‘I’m concentrating on aspects of my life that I can control. Like my career.’
‘In that case…’ Kasumi said carelessly, ‘you won’t be upset if the station does another feature on Ben and Gemma to see how things are progressing now that they’re back together?’
Ellie took a huge gulp of her wine. ‘Of course I don’t mind. Why would I?’
Fifteen
A freezing wind blasted through the long grass as the small crowd of mourners made their way along the ornamental path, following the coffin into the woods. The day was bright but there was a sharpness in the air that found its way through every seam of Ellie’s clothing. She pulled her coat tighter and folded her arms against the cold. Her parents walked at her side. She cast them another furtive
glance to see that Frank still had Miranda’s hand firmly clasped in his and she hadn’t yet brushed him off. That had to be a good sign. The service had been conducted in a bright, spacious, purpose-built wooden lodge, in a tranquil spot that overlooked views of the woodlands and the River Mersey beyond. It had taken them over an hour to drive from Millrise to the special site, but Ellie had to hand it to her aunt – as venues for funerals went, this was pretty spectacular and it was worth the journey. There were far worse places to spend the afterlife.
As the group went deeper into the woods, the swathes of wild grass gave way to trees peppered with new buds and wild spring flowers pushing their way from the undergrowth. Industrious birds flitted to and fro overhead. The air was sweet and clean here, and it was hard to believe that major towns and cities were only a few miles down the road in any direction.
Two weeks had passed since Hazel’s death. They were two weeks filled with rest for Ellie and a certain amount of quiet reflection on her own life. There had been no more contact from Ben or Gemma. Ellie assumed that wedding plans were now in full swing, undoubtedly coupled with a lucrative magazine deal for exclusive photos. If Ellie had heard that Gemma had ordered a swan-shaped carriage set with diamante, commanded all her guests to wear purple and had chosen a huge pink taffeta dress with a matching pink suit for Ben, she wouldn’t have been a bit surprised. As it was, she was thankful that she finally seemed to have slipped under Gemma’s radar. Deep in her heart, she hadn’t accepted that Ben was gone from her life, but she tried to believe that he was happy now, despite Patrick’s opinions to the contrary, and she let that be her comfort. Wasn’t that what people in love did? She remembered reading Cyrano de Bergerac at university, where Cyrano had selflessly and anonymously pledged his life to ensuring the happiness of his beloved Roxane until his dying breath. It was a noble thing, right, to let the one you love go?
The procession stopped at a clearing dotted with ornamental benches and bronze plaques. A mound of freshly-dug earth sat next to the waiting grave. Ellie blinked back the tears burning her eyes; she had to be strong for her mum who was sobbing uncontrollably now, for her dad whose expression betrayed that he felt helpless and ineffectual and completely out of his emotional depth, despite pulling Miranda into a protective hug. Ellie had to be strong for her aunt who would have been so proud to see it. She had to be strong for everyone.
Worth Waiting For: A heart-warming and feel-good romantic comedy Page 22
