by E. Earle
“We’re saying goodbye, Ellena,” a quiet voice said in my ear. “It’s time.”
“No it’s not!” I screamed, the heat scorching my face. “He’s fine! Look at him! He’s fine!”
More hands grabbed my arms, pulling me back, holding me down as I kicked and screamed.
“Ellena…”
“I can get to him!”
“Ellena!”
I opened my eyes to see a blackness holding me down in my bed. I thrashed my arms and fought to be rid before that unmistakable voice shouted again.
“Ellena!”
I blinked in confusion as the figure reached over and switched on my bedside lamp. Brynn’s tired face loomed into view as he shook his head.
“Nightmares again?”
I stared up at him, heart pounding painfully in my chest and throat parched. Swallowing, I blinked in the dim light, trying to not show the extent of my fear.
I think it was too late.
My door was wide open, my covers half kicked off and Ben standing on the windowsill, his back arched in concern. He soon relaxed at the sight of my conscious self and settled back down.
I realised then that I had my arms up defensively and forced them back down. My elbows clicked in protest and I tried to steady my breathing. Embarrassment suddenly washed over me and I hurriedly pulled the sweaty covers back over myself.
“Ellie, are you ok?” Brynn reached over and grasped my cup of water. I accepted it gratefully and started to gulp it down, desperate to get the sensation of burning smoke from my throat.
Unable still to make eye contact, I sat up in my bed and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
A pause stretched out between us. “Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, but I could tell he was. “Ellie… are you ok?”
I nodded with my eyes closed, not even glancing over in case he would see the lie in my eyes. “Yes,” I said quickly. “Sorry. You can go back to bed now.”
I wanted him to leave. I hated anyone seeing me vulnerable. Brynn had seen me enough at my worse state- I needed to be strong to stop him worrying about me. Enough was enough.
Sensing my need to be alone, Brynn stood up reluctantly. “Ellie, that sounded pretty horrific,” he said slowly. “I half thought you were being murdered…”
Opening my eyes irritably, I looked at him in the eye. “I’m sorry,” I said again, the word pushed out between gritted teeth. “I’m fine.” Don’t ask me anymore about it.
He was staring at me, not believing a word I was saying. I realised then that he was only wearing his board shorts and quickly looked away.
“You know,” I said, forcing a cheery tone I didn’t feel and settling back into bed, “with that door wide open, anyone who walks past is going to think you’re a bit of a weirdo.”
Brynn made a sound of annoyance before walking towards the door. I heard it clicked shut and was surprised to see him return at my bedside.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked with his arms over his chest. Seriousness covered his face, his jaw clenched hard as he waited for my answer. “You’ve been having these nightmares for a while now.”
Irritated flared up and died. Instead of making a witty remark I simply shook my head. “Not tonight,” I said quietly. “Maybe in the future, but not now.”
After a moment’s pause, he nodded in acceptance. “Ok,” he said finally, before abruptly pointing at me. “But you will tell me someday, ok?”
Hearing it as an order, I rolled my eyes and nodded.
Looking satisfied he reached over to switch out of my lamp. I made a noise of protest, and he pulled back, surprised. “You want the light on?”
I shrugged, not wanting to admit it. “Just until I fall back to sleep,” I explained reluctantly. “I might read a book for a bit.
Brynn said nothing to my lie, picked up Ben and plopped him on my lap, leaving him to meow in indignant confusion. “No worries. Maybe a ginger cat will help as well.” He threw me a wink before walking to the door. “You need anything, just yell, ok?”
He left just like that. I don’t know who was more surprised, Ben or me.
“He man-handled me.”
I rolled my eyes. “He did not man handle you, Ben.”
“Ok- cat-handle.”
I sighed and pulled on my boots. Brynn and I were going to do a check up on the progress of Old Marley’s Museum. I had talked about my nightmare to Ben last night. I had seen my Granddad in dreams before- and this hadn’t been the same. This was a pure nightmare, concocted out of my mind to torture myself. My Granddad would never use dream-time to upset me.
Brynn was on the phone when he was walking out of Craggy’s.
“You ready?” I asked, leaning against his truck and enjoying the rare sunlight.
He shook his head, looking flustered. “Afraid not,” he said. “That was a gallery in Bornston- they’ve just asked if I’ll show some of my work there.”
I stopped leaning, alarm rising.
He quickly raised his hands to halt any of my demands. “Now listen- I’m not going to show pictures of you obviously- they’ve been sold-”
“Yeah, thanks for that.”
“-I’m going to go down,” he said, taking a breath of patience, “and show them my portfolio with what I’ve got left.”
Alarm dying down, I stepped forward and punched him on the arm softly. “Well done, youth,” I said, the Midlander coming out in me. “That sounds brilliant.”
“It does! But it does mean I won’t be coming with you today…”
I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms. “How convenient.”
“But don’t worry,” he said quickly. “I’ve just spoken to my Uncle John and he and the lads are coming down to carry on with the plastering.”
“Right.”
“You don’t mind?”
I shook my head and shrugged. “No, why would I?” I picked up my rucksack next to Ben and slung it over my shoulder. It had a couple of ham sandwiches and a flask of tea for everyone down there. We usually went to Brynn’s mother’s pub (of whom I still had to meet officially) for a spot of lunch, but we were trying to keep costs down. “You just make sure you don’t sell my mug to any more posh geezers.”
Before I knew what was happening, Brynn picked me up by the upper arms and placed me simply away from the driver’s side. He pulled out his keys and opened his car door. “Don’t work too hard, hey?”
My eyebrow remained upraised until his orange truck was out of view.
Ben gazed up at me smugly. “You’ve just been Ellie-handled.”
A strange feeling came over me when I arrived at the museum. Everything seemed to go slowly as I stood in the centre, watching the walls become plastered, things become moved, dust unsettling and then settling. A buzzing grew in my ears until I realised it was the sound of the ocean outside. Ben was a bobbing ball of orange light in my vision as I stared ahead, focused on nothing. My feet started moving until I found myself outside, staring into the rippling black waters, hissing and spitting at me in mockery and provocation.
Pirates Peak lay in the distance, its black points promising death to anyone that attempted to approach the landing place of past smugglers and cutthroats. I cocked my head and thought I could make out a small building in the centre of the rocks. Locals had mentioned there had been a smallholding there, but if anything had been there, it would now be useless and too dangerous to even explore.
Only those with a death sentence sought out Pirates Peak now.
A lot had happened. How had I managed to cope this far? I glanced at my watch and then back out again. I had been down here for four hours already. Had it been that long? I swallowed and found my tongue dry.
I realised then that I wasn’t alone. A man was standing on the edge of the cliff, staring out to the coiling waves. His white hair blew in the breeze, his large freckled hands clenching and then unclenching. An Alsatian sat at his side, leaning against the man’s leg.
I took a step forward, the sound of my heartbeat coinciding with the crashing waters, the hiss of spray, the dull thump of faraway mallets and muted voices. My mouth opened, dry and swollen, my vocal chords frozen with the winter wind.
The man turned around and faced me, his eyes halting my movement but beckoning me closer.
My breath caught. “…Granddad?”
“Ellie!” I jumped and swung around to see John striding towards me with a notepad. “Come on, you- we’re all finishing up for the day.”
I gasped as I turned back around and stumbled as I saw nothing but cliff in front of me. The only standing figure was the solid lighthouse ahead. Scrambling forward, I dove towards the edge and looked over with starving eyes, seeing nothing but white foam and jagged rocks.
“Ellie? What’re you playing at, girl?”
No! I had seen him! I gazed back up at the red and white structure ahead, my eyes narrowing at it in accusation.
Gloved hands pulled me back and forced me to stand in one hard swing. I swallowed, choked and then spat.
Redness dotted the wet floor.
“Ellie?”
No sooner had Brynn arrived, John had told him everything and he was taking me back, leaving my Fiat Punto with one of his cousins to drive back despite not having insurance. My head was throbbing and I went straight to bed, not answering any of Brynn’s questions. I didn’t even care about my shift that night- although I was pretty sure that he would refuse me from doing it anyway.
Ben curled up beside me as I slept, often waking up sweating and then drifting back to nightmares. My body was drenched, but the covers remained wrapped around me to stop myself from shivering. Teeth clenched from crying out, I held my side, my fingers holding in the blood that was gushing from my body.
I opened my eyes and saw Calloway’s white face floating above mine.
“I need an emergency unit here now!” he shouted, his hands on my stomach.
“Ben- find Ben-”
“Shut up, Ellena, just breathe.” He turned to shout more instructions at a colleague on a radio.
I swallowed and tasted salt again. Heat was spreading from the gunshot wound as my body became colder. I felt as though I was swimming in my own blood, my arms sticky and coated with it.
“Don’t... worry,” I said, my tongue feeling useless and numb. “It doesn’t...hurt.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything’s going to be...”
But he never got to finish the sentence. He never did in all the times I dreamt of him saving my life.
Chapter Four
I stayed in the bath for nearly two hours the next day, refusing to get out for anyone. Ben stayed with me for a while before going out to hunt. He didn’t like the steamy atmosphere in the bathroom, seeing I liked the water so hot.
My headache had eased slightly and I decided that the stress had probably just gotten to me. Seeing my Granddad outside Old Marley’s had messed up my mind big time and I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t really speak about how I felt about Granddad dying around my family. I never liked upsetting them. You always had to think about how your own actions would affect someone else.
There was no point in telling Brynn or anyone at Craggy’s either. They wouldn’t understand and I didn’t want to explain or justify why I felt the way I did. I rubbed my forehead again and sighed,
Maybe it was time for a holiday to Australia again? I had heard that lack of sun made depression worse in people. Was that what was happening to me? Fear coiled in my gut at the thought of going back to the depressed state I had been at my old job.
Submerging my head underwater, I banished the negative thoughts from my head. I was better. Getting better. I would never go back to the way I was.
My hand trailed over my gunshot wound, determined that my heart wouldn’t skip a beat.
Even you, gunshot wound, I thought. Even you’re not going to hold me back.
After drying and dressing, I walked downstairs wearing some skinny jeans and a baggy green jumper that came over one shoulder. I felt a lot more determined. I was in control of my life.
There was a stir in the pub when I arrived, Ben sitting interestedly on the bar as if listening intently to the conversation around him.
“When is it?” Jessica asked, her hair plaited over her shoulder. She had stopped highlighting it recently and strawberry blonde had started to peek through her roots. I had to admit, I quite liked it.
Brynn was serving behind the bar, trying and failing to suppress a smile. “Next week,” he said. “One of his artists pulled out, so he’s asked me to put up an installation in their place.”
I raised an eyebrow and then crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s this then?”
Brynn almost dropped the glass he was holding in surprise. “Oh, you’re up,” he said. “Are you feeling any better?”
“I was fine in the first place,” I said quickly with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Brynn’s showing his photography next week at the Lighthouse Gallery!” Jessica said in one rush of breath. “Isn’t that exciting?”
I raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a stare. “Yes it is,” I said slowly. “What are you showing again?”
Brynn handed the drink over to one of our local customers and turned to me. “It’s a surprise,” he said.
“One I’m going to like?”
He took a moment to pull back a smart remark. “Much better than the last one,” he said, eyes not meeting mine.
The week went past pretty quickly. Our business was doing well despite the bad weather. You had all sorts wanting to surf, although we had to cancel one lesson because the conditions were too dangerous. We compensated them with an energetic game of Monopoly and then a trip into town. Before you say anything- if you play Monopoly with me then it definitely becomes energetic- and sometimes violent.
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me buy Mayfair,” I grumbled under my breath to Brynn as we wiped down the bar. “We could have won the game!”
I could feel his eyes rolling in the dark as we put the stools on top of the bar so we could mop down easier. It would have been even easier if we hadn’t of decided to do it when we came back from drinking in the village. I swayed to the door and locked it, the swirled glass marring what was outside.
“Are you coming to the gallery tomorrow?”
I turned to the sound of his voice, and saw him casually putting the last few glasses away. I shrugged. “If you want me to.”
“Vincent is going to be there.”
My body tensed and I closed my eyes. “Oh?”
“He may still have the thought that we….”
“We…?” I enjoyed watching him squirm as I snatched the towel from over his shoulder and hung it up. “We what?”
Brynn stared at me then, appearing very tired. I saw then how much he wanted this. He had thought he was only ever going to work at a pub. Now something incredible was happening. I gritted my teeth and mulled it over.
“You need some arm candy basically?” I said putting a hand on my hip.
Brynn’s eyes flashed. “Have you still got that dress from London?”
I didn’t but I had something better. There was an excited buzz at Craggy’s the next day. People milled in and out, promising to come and see Brynn’s work, commending him, congratulating him and then coming to me for instructions on Old Marley’s Museum.
The plastering had been finished, and now it was time to have a look at buying some real display cases for the antiques and think about hiring more staff. I wanted to see if we could just share the staff we already had at Craggy’s, but I had to face it. New blood was needed.
I sat in one of the bay windows with Ben on my lap and a bacon and cheese toastie for my lunch. It was times like this where I felt happy. Calm almost. I had spoken to my parents this morning and that had always put me in a good mood. My sister was promising to come down and see me with Rowan, although I could tell tha
t she was upset that I had taken the time to go to London and not to see her. Warwickshire, although I loved it, was a place that had started to make me itch. I felt safe here, unreachable to the clutches of the negative influences that had plunged me into a world of hell. Fair, I was still recovering, but things would get better. I knew they would.
Jessica was driving us down in her mother’s vintage jaguar- why the hell her mother was allowing her, I had no idea. It only occurred to me when I was putting on my make up that maybe she didn’t even have permission.
I put London Grammar on loud as I got ready and a Captain Morgan’s and diet coke ready for me in a large wine glass (it tastes better in a posh glass). I kept my makeup natural, simply exaggerating my natural features; plenty of lashings of black mascara, a deep rose lipstick with a bit of bronzer and blush to give me some colour. I styled my hair in a deep side parting with a relaxed wave, and I was surprised when I looked in the mirror to see how long it had grown. I had been shoving it in a careless bun for so many weeks now that I had forgotten what it felt to be made up.
Images of getting ready with Helen in London flashed to mind. I reach out for my glass of rum, shaking my head free of them. I missed Helen. Sometimes I missed that female companionship. I loved all of the staff here, but I was yet to meet someone who I could be close friends with, laugh over crappy chick flicks, try out new make up with and talk about sex- anything! Living with Helen had been a stream of non-stop partying and beef chow meins. I missed that lack of responsibility.
Turning to my bed, I gazed down at the dress I had picked out. Made of dark blue satin, it was a dress that came off the shoulder and stopped just above the knee. It was a dress that I had worn to my uncle’s wedding and for some reason I had packed it on my last trip to the Midlands.
I would be cold but it didn’t matter. Two pairs of nude tights later and I was prepared. The material skimmed over my skin, making me shiver with its unexpected coldness. Pulling up the zip behind me, I examined my reflection in the mirror. The material clung to me and flattered the curves I had, sucking in my waist to a slim hour glass shape. Even my pale skin complemented it and I was glad that I hadn’t picked out the bright patterned sun dress I had been leaning towards.
