by Georgia Hill
This must be Coral, the nurse. She was at once terrifying and beautiful. Young, red-haired and curvy underneath the uniform. Millie stood up and glanced down at Jed. ‘My fault,’ she said. ‘I should have called for you when I realised how weak he was.’
‘My hero,’ Jed said faintly. ‘Is that mummy?’ He opened one eye and it gleamed mischievously.
Maybe he was feeling a little better.
‘Oh no,’ he continued. ‘How marvellous. It’s Matron.’
Coming around to the same side Millie was on, Coral began to lever him up. Lifting him by his left arm, she winked, ‘You’re a whole heap of trouble, aren’t you just? Come on, off with you now. Bed it is.’
Millie glanced from one to the other. Jed would be well looked after. There was nothing she could do. There was no place for her here. She turned away. The loss of him was too much to bear. It was over. Everything between Jed and her was finally, irrevocably, over. He hadn’t fought for her. Had taken at face value when she’d said it was finished between them. She knew she was being contrary but hearing the same words she had fired at him come back at her made it seem so very final. Strangely, there was no pain. No sadness. Just a solid, lumpen ball of hideous regret at what might have been. Numbly, she reached into her pocket for her car keys and left.
Chapter 24
Alex parked Jed’s Golf behind the scruffy building that was the Arts Workshop. A lager can skittered over his foot and came to rest against a mesh fence. Glancing around at the pot holes in the tarmac and the graffiti-covered walls he doublechecked he’d locked the car. Even on a crisp sunny day like today, the place was grim.
Ken stood next to a Christmas tree in the entrance hall. He was wearing a Santa hat. ‘Alex, my man,’ he said as they shook hands. ‘There you are. Come on in. I’ve got a few paintings I think would look great at the hotel. This way.’
The building was much better inside. There was a smell of freshly painted walls and the corridor had photographs displayed all along it. Someone had put festive red tinsel around each one. From his quick glance, Alex saw the photos were of the various workshops that had taken place. It all looked to be far more thriving than it appeared from first impressions. He followed Ken into his studio. There was no hint of the season here. Instead, the bare room was painted a blinding white and flooded with light from a series of velux windows. It smelled alluringly of oil paint and linseed oil.
Ken caught Alex staring up at the windows. ‘Your brother’s handywork. Not that he put them in himself, like, but he got us the funding. Sweet, aren’t they?’ He shrugged. ‘Loads of work still to, do but we’re getting there.’
Alex admired his enthusiasm. ‘I had no idea Jed had been so involved in fund-raising for the place.’
‘Jed? Yeah, boy’s done great. Still doing a bit, but he’s been too busy with that coffee joint lately.’ He went over to an easel and slid off its protective sheet. ‘Never understood why he’s got himself mixed up in that nonsense, but I suppose a bloke has to make a living.’ He stood back. ‘There. What do you think? Think it’s finished? Always hard not to keep going back to stuff. That’s why I’d like you to have it at the hotel. Can’t keep fidgeting with it if it’s up there.’
Alex crossed his arms and stared. He knew next to nothing about art. He’d never allowed himself the time off from the city to find out. But he knew what he liked and he liked Ken’s work.
The painting before him was an abstract. He couldn’t even begin to understand what the subject might be, but something about the cool green, grey and blue palette suggested a stormy sea, with an equally turbulent sky above it. He was reminded of the Turners his mother had taken him to see in the National Gallery when she’d had a brief but fervent fascination with art.
‘You like it?’ Ken’s voice was eager.
‘I love it.’
‘But?’
Alex shot Ken a grateful smile for understanding. ‘I love it, but it might be a tad riotous for a hotel designed to soothe the fevered brows of executives.’
Ken gave a short laugh. ‘Okey-dokey, my friend. What about something more figurative? She’s not ready yet but it won’t be long before I’ve completed her. You might recognise the subject. She made my paintbrushes fly. Think I’ve aced this girl.’ He strode to a corner of the studio and flicked off the stained sheet with a flourish. ‘Ta da!’
Alex stared. It wasn’t a completely realistic portrait, Ken’s work never was, but Eleri’s glorious hair and startling eyes were unmistakeable. Somehow his feet let him walk nearer. Ken had painted her against another vague seascape and he’d used the same cool tones as in the landscape. Here, though, the effect was languorous. Sensual.
Eleri sat half-turned away, the long lines of her back fading into a swirling green pattern. Her arms were raised, with one hand lifting her heavy hair away from the nape of her neck. The only point of sharp focus was her eyes. They looked straight at the viewer. Challenging and deeply sexy. Knowing. Something deep in Alex reacted. Tracing the lines of Eleri’s s-shaped pose, he took in the generous breasts with the hint of nipple, the toned body, the wide hips, before they dissolved into the abstract pattern.
Apart from the collection of bangles she always wore, it was perfectly clear Eleri had sat for Ken completely and utterly naked.
Arousal churned uneasily within him with something else. Disapproval? Surely not. He’d never known anyone like Eleri. All his other girlfriends had been Sloaney blondes. Home Counties, public-schooled and boring in comparison. They’d all drifted away when it became apparent he couldn’t give them the attention they thought they deserved. Eleri’s serenity and independence attracted him. Her alternative way of life and free spirit only added to her peculiar brand of glamour. But he wasn’t sure he could cope with this.
‘You alright, my friend? You’ve gone pale. This not right for you either?’ Ken was disappointed. ‘Magnificent though, ain’t she?’
‘Um.’ Alex cleared his throat, forcing himself to get a grip. Seeing Eleri like this had completely unnerved him. Her portrait was somehow both unearthly and provocative. And deeply disturbing.
He found his voice. ‘It’s an incredible painting, Ken.’
‘Still not right for the hotel, though?’
‘Maybe I’ll … maybe I’ll take the abstract after all.’
‘You do that, mate.’ Ken was delighted. ‘Give me a tick and I’ll get some bubble wrap round it.’
Alex slotted the canvas in behind the passenger seat of the Golf. His hands shook as he started the car’s engine. ‘Get a grip,’ he rebuked himself. ‘It’s art. Beautiful art.’
But in the far reaches of his mind lurked the unworthy thought: what sort of woman would so easily take off her clothes in front of a complete stranger?
Chapter 25
Millie lay staring at the darkness beyond her bedroom window. She’d long given up on sleep. It was a clear night and there were one or two stars twinkling. She could hear the rush of the sea as it sucked at the shingle, but there was no wind. It was eerily calm.
Picking up her phone, she groaned as she saw it was getting on for three in the morning. Flinging back the duvet, she padded into the kitchen and to a startled Trevor.
Ignoring the Blue Elephant letter, which screamed at her from the kitchen table, she flicked on the kettle. She opened the cupboard and scanned its contents. What would a convalescent be tempted by?
Three hours, a Victoria sponge, an iced carrot cake and a batch of chocolate brownies later, Millie hung up her apron and whistled to the dog. ‘Fancy a really early walk on the beach, Trev?’
As she stomped along by torchlight and Trevor ran about excitedly sniffing out the damp, seaweedy smells, Millie’s thoughts returned to Jed.
The cooking, as always, had soothed her for a while, but now her mood lowered again. The questions rolled around in an endless loop. Why had Jed taken a job with Blue Elephant? Had he deliberately wanted to hurt her again? Why couldn’t she trust him? Was he going to
get better? More questions battered at her like the sea spray foaming off the tide. What was she going to do about her bills? Could she muster enough energy for the wedding planning meeting with Biddy? Millie stopped and looked up to the sky. It was a tiny bit lighter and the stars had faded away. She whispered a fevered plea for help. She wasn’t sure who she directed it at. God. The gods of the sea, or maybe Eleri’s eternal universe? Millie didn’t particularly care. She just knew she needed help from somewhere. She wanted to be happy again but, at this moment, she couldn’t imagine ever being so again.
Chapter 26
An hour later, on the same beach, Eleri waded into the sea and dived under the water without hesitating. It was the only way when swimming in winter. Too cold to swim at night now, she’d reluctantly swapped to early mornings. There were one or two other hardy souls who joined her sometimes, but today she was alone.
She surfaced, gasping, relishing the surge of blood coursing around her body. Swimming in such cold water made her feel fiercely alive, especially now that she swam for the sheer pleasure alone. Her days of competitive training were long gone. She didn’t miss the five a.m. starts at the pool in Cardiff. Had never really had the killer competitive instinct to do well in events. It was all about the water for her. She rolled onto her back and watched the clouds scud across the dawn sky. A stiff breeze whipped up the foamy waves and she laughed out loud at the glorious December day. She began a swift and even crawl.
Living in Berecombe was great. She enjoyed working with Millie. Loved working with Alex on the hotel. It would be Christmas soon. Saturnalia. Yulefest. Whatever you chose to call it, she loved it. Bringing in the evergreens to decorate, the rich food, the lights defying the darkest days. She was happier and more settled than ever before. Life was good. With Alex, it might even get better. The cards had told her so.
A strand of seaweed tangled around her foot. Stopping to shake it off, she missed the angry storm clouds on the early morning horizon.
Chapter 27
Once again Millie parked the Fiesta in front of The Lord of the Manor hotel. A slew of white Transits littered the carriage drive, so she imagined work was progressing on the refurb. She stifled a pang of jealousy. She’d hoped to refurbish Millie Vanilla’s. At one point she hoped to do so in partnership with Jed. It all seemed a lifetime ago.
‘This is the last time I’m going to allow myself to see him,’ she promised herself, as she balanced the pile of cake boxes on top of one another. ‘I can’t let myself do this any more. Not after he said there was no longer any future between us.’ Biting her lip to stop the sudden tears, she lifted the enormous lion’s head door knocker.
‘Ah, so it’s Millie, isn’t it?’ It was Coral. ‘Have you come to see the patient? Oh, he’ll be that delighted. Come on in.’ She led the way to the blue sitting room, chattering as she went. ‘Between you and me, I think our friend is getting a wee bit bored. I’m taking it as a sign he’s on the mend.’ She opened the door with a flourish. ‘He’s moping in here again this morning. Mind you, it’s the only room worth sitting in. I’ll leave you to it unless you’d like coffee, that is?’
Millie shook her head and forced a smile. ‘I’m fine thanks, but Coral, do you think you can do something with these? I’ve done a bit of baking for everyone.’
Coral’s eyes widened as she took the boxes off her. ‘Well now, I’d hoped that sugary smell was coming my way.’ She grinned, lifting her freckled cheeks. ‘Aren’t you just the gorgeous one? I’ll stow them in the kitchen. Are you sure I can’t get you anything, now?’
‘Coral, can you let Millie get a word in edgeways?’ Jed yelled from the furthest corner in the room.
Coral rolled her eyes. ‘See what I mean? I’ll leave you to him. Shout if you want anything, or if His Nibs gets any more testy.’
Jed was sitting in a winged armchair in front of a floor-length window. A tartan blanket was over his knees, but apart from that there was nothing of the invalid about him.
‘You look a lot better. More colour in your cheeks.’
He laughed without humour. ‘Fever’s gone. Forcing myself well before Ma gets here.’
Millie sank down on a neighbouring chair. ‘Oh. She’s coming after all, is she?’
‘Apparently joining us for Christmas. I don’t know who is worse. Ma and her Country Life ideas of what makes a perfect Christmas or Coral and her cod Oirishness.’
‘My, we are in a bad mood today. Coral seems lovely.’
Jed shook a reproving finger. ‘Don’t you start.’ He lay back against the chair, hands gripping with white knuckles. ‘It’s just bloody frustrating. I feel so much better as long as I’m sitting down, but it takes me an hour just to have a shower and a shave.’ He thumped the arm of the chair and then winced. ‘And I’ve got so much to do.’
‘Is this Blue Elephant stuff?’ Millie tried not to say it stiffly and failed.
Jed gave her a shifty glance. ‘You could say that.’
‘I see.’
‘Millie – .’
‘I’ve got some news, actually. I wasn’t sure if you’d be well enough to hear it but thought you might like to be the first to know. Actually, you might know already, I suppose, seeing as you work for them.’ Millie stopped, feeling Jed’s glare hot on her face and aware she was rambling.
‘Know what, Millie?’ Jed’s voice was dangerous.
‘As Clare’s parents have backed out of buying the café, I’ve accepted another offer.’ Millie took a deep breath. If she said it out loud it would make it true. ‘From Blue Elephant.’
‘Millie no!’
She folded her hands demurely in her lap. ‘It’s not nearly as good an offer, but I’ll be able to move away from Berecombe, maybe go travelling again. It’ll give me some time to think about what I want to do. Put some plans in place for the rest of my life.’
Jed scrubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t speak for a while, seeming to be struggling over a decision. ‘I don’t want you to do that,’ he said eventually. He leaned forward cautiously. ‘Stick it out a bit longer, please Millie.’
‘You don’t want me to do it?’ Millie pulled herself up. ‘It’s not your decision to make, Jed.’
‘Jeez, Mil. I’m fully aware it’s not up to me. But listen, if you can carry on without making a decision one way or the other for just a few more weeks, I think things could change in Berecombe. Drastically. Please don’t rush into anything.’ Jed’s voice was urgent.
Millie stared out at the landscaped grounds. A sea mist had come in with the tide and it was a depressing, drizzly day but, despite this, there was a team of gardeners working on the long-neglected lake. Once finished, the hotel was going to be spectacular. Tessa had been right after all. Alex had been talking through plans for a helipad. Millie couldn’t comprehend the finances involved in setting up the place. Eleri had mentioned she knew money wasn’t an issue. How wonderful. Millie tried not to be bitter or envious, but it was hard when she could see someone else’s dream becoming a reality when all she wanted was to keep her little café going. How could Alex, and more importantly, Jed, understand her problems when they lived in a world where multi-million-pound hotels were created without worry over finance?
Glancing at Jed, with his monied gloss evident even in illness, she realised she’d been right all along. They came from different worlds and the gulf was too vast to broach. This Cinderella was going to have to back off from her Prince Charming one final time. Taking in his blonde hair and broad shoulders, remembering his skilled hands in bed, his many kindnesses and his generous nature, she wished, with all her heart, that it could have been different.
She began to speak, but her voice cracked with emotion. She took a deep breath and launched in. ‘I’m not sure I have an option, Jed. I would have thought that was obvious. I’m running deeper and deeper into debt.’ She made direct eye contact and wasn’t surprised to see Jed look discomforted. ‘I have to sell up and Blue Elephant is my only viable option.’
> ‘You haven’t signed anything?’
‘Not that it’s anything to do with you, but no,’ Millie admitted. ‘I haven’t got that far yet.’
Jed slumped back in his chair. ‘Well, that’s one thing, at least.’ Once again, he scowled out at the gardens.
Millie could see him thinking hard and furiously. Or maybe he was simply fascinated by the digging that had begun at the lake’s edge. She couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why what she did with the café meant so much to him. Their relationship was over. He’d said as much the last time she’d seen him.
‘Jed,’ she began, hesitantly. ‘Can you give me one reason why I shouldn’t go ahead with the sale?’
Jed turned to her, a muscle beating in his cheek. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. ‘I wish I could. You don’t know how much, Millie.’ He met her eyes, ‘But I can’t. Not at this precise moment.’
‘I see.’
‘No you don’t.’ He threw off his blanket. ‘I just wish I wasn’t so incapacitated. God, it’s frustrating. I’ve got so much to do.’ He reached forward and took her hands in one of his. ‘Just promise me you’ll hold off signing anything which commits you fully. Promise me, Millie!’
‘Yes, okay. I promise.’ Millie shook him off, wondering if he was still feverish. ‘Not long until Christmas now, anyway. Not a lot I can do until the New Year.’
‘Good.’ He sank back, looking relieved but pale. Their encounter seemed to have exhausted him.
There was another silence. An uncomfortable one, as if neither knew quite how to move forward. Both jumped as the door opened.
‘That’ll be Coral trying to force-feed me drugs again,’ Jed said, irritably.
It was Coral, but she wasn’t her usual cheerfully bustling self. She looked flushed and slightly dazed.
‘Millie. You’ve got a visitor, so you have.’
