‘Mmm… I’ve decided that it’s just all old country folklore.’ Ella nodded. ‘But it was reassuring to talk about it. It doesn’t make what happened here seem quite so weird somehow. Anyway – long story short – you see, you don’t have to worry about me any more. I’ve met some friends and I’m getting myself a life in the country.’
‘Great, again. And about time, but you can have another night out, can’t you? Poll’s OK about you having evenings out?’
‘Of course. She always puts George to bed anyway, and does the bedtime stuff. She’d be glad if I got out more.’
‘Fantastic. So – will you?’
‘Not just because you feel sorry for me? Or think I’m pining for Mark in London or something and need cheering up?’
‘I certainly don’t feel sorry for you, as I’ve said before, and I’m not asking you out because I think you need cheering up, OK? Although, I know you must miss Mark.’
Ella just shrugged in a non-committal way. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Mmm, Trixie has told me lots about him, and Poll has filled in the gaps.’
Oh, great.
‘As they know less than nothing about him I shouldn’t believe all you hear… Um, so, are we going out with Onyx, too?’
‘No, just you and me. I’ve got tickets for a show, and, as we’ve done nothing but cook, and think about cooking, and talk about cooking all week, I thought it would be nice to do something completely different.’
Just for a moment, Ella allowed the treacherous love thing to sneak in. Then she ignored it. She was getting good at that. But doing a show – a phrase she hadn’t heard since leaving London – sounded pretty good, whatever Ash’s reasons for inviting her. And she’d be out with him, wouldn’t she? Just the two of them. For once. Oh, why not?
‘OK.’ She smiled. ‘As long as Onyx doesn’t mind.’
‘Why should she? She likes you a lot. She knows we’re friends.’
‘OK again – that sounds great and I’d love to. When?
Where? Are we eating out or do I eat first? And what do I wear? I mean, is it “dressing for the theatre” or what?’
‘Hardly. It’s only in Winterbrook. But yes, dressy rather than jeans, but, more importantly, whatever you’re comfortable in. And there’s a meal of sorts provided. And it’s tomorrow.’
Pushing away the nagging ‘tomorrow never comes’ phrase, and trying not to skip round the kitchen, Ella took a deep breath and started making yet another Eve’s pudding.
Chapter Thirty-four
She was ready early. George, who had watched her dress in her pale-blue and silver strappy frock and her flat silver sandals, and add silver jewellery, and carefully do her hair and make-up, said she looked like the Little Mermaid.
Hoping this was a compliment, Ella swept down the staircases.
‘Wow,’ Ash grinned. ‘You look lovely.’
‘Thanks. You’ve scrubbed up nicely, too.’
‘Right, princess, your carriage awaits.’
Ella stepped out of Hideaway’s front door and shrieked with laughter. ‘We’re going in the ice-cream van?’
‘Sorry, yes. I’ve let the MOT lapse on my car – got it booked in for next week – so, until then this is all I’ve got.’
‘We could take my car,’ Ella said. ‘I don’t mind driving.’
‘But then you wouldn’t be able to have a drink, and I really think you deserve a drink. I’m not fussed myself – a couple of shandys will be fine for me.’ Ash looked quite worried. ‘Or will you be embarrassed arriving in the van?’
‘Embarrassed? Not at all.’ Ella headed for the Neapolitan stripes with the cornet rampant. ‘It’ll add to the excitement.’
‘No, Ella, look, I’ll ask Poll or Billy to give us a lift and we can get a cab home.’
‘No way. This is much more fun and I’m more than happy to travel in the van. But –’ she stopped and looked over her shoulder ‘– only if you let me play the jingly-jangly music all the way into Winterbrook.’
‘And have every child for miles around throwing themselves at us demanding a Bazooma?’ Ash pulled a face as he hauled himself into the driving seat. ‘I don’t think so. But if you really must, give it a little blast now.’
Ella did. She wasn’t sure if it was the ‘Cancan’ or ‘Greensleeves’ but it made them both laugh.
And they were still laughing when they arrived outside Winterbrook’s Masonic Hall.
Slotting the ice-cream van in between a gleaming row of BMWs and Mercedes, they joined the well-dressed crowds heading for the entrance.
‘Oh!’ Ella blinked at the embossed poster outside as they queued to hand over their tickets. ‘It’s a charity do. Lovely – Winterbrook Homeless Shelter – that’s great. Poll would definitely approve. Oh…’
Ash looked at her quizzically.
‘Cleo, who I met the other night, mentioned this charity, I’m sure she did. I know she and her husband, er, Dylan, I think she said, do an awful lot of work for the homeless.’
‘Maybe she’ll be here tonight, then?’ Ash said as they neared the imposing doors. ‘And her husband. You’ll have to introduce me to them.’
Ella shook her head. ‘I don’t think they’d be here. I gathered they work behind the scenes more. Hands on. They do soup runs and things like that. I sort of gathered that Dylan comes from a mega rich family and he’s a patron – and donates oodles of dosh to these charities – but likes to stay anonymously in the background so that he doesn’t lose his street cred with the rough sleepers and so that people don’t think he’s angling for a lot of back-patting.’
‘Sounds like a nice guy. Oh, right, here we are – in we go.’
Inside the ancient gilded, chandeliered and curlicued Masonic Hall, colonial fans swirled and the myriad tables were covered in white linen, sparkling with crystal glasses and silver cutlery and tastefully decorated with white roses and tall, flickering candles.
‘How pretty!’ Ella looked around in amazement. ‘Blimey, Ash, thanks for this. What an amazing place. Is this our table? Oh, yes, there’s your name – mine must be “guest”? Oh, and wow – thank you.’ She smiled gratefully at him as he pulled out her chair for her. When had Mark ever done that for her? Never, ever…
There were four other couples round their table, strangers to both of them, and they all did the polite nodding and sketchy smile thing – with the addition of a discreet ‘haven’t I seen you somewhere before?’ stare. Ella was getting used to it. Since Dewberrys’ Dinners, she’d had loads of those looks.
Ella surreptitiously eyed the other men round the table: pleasant, middle-aged and comfy looking, none of them could hold a candle to Ash. In fact, she thought, gazing round the crowds in the loudly buzzing hall, Ash was the most gorgeous man in the place by a country mile.
The women at their table clearly thought so, and Ella felt a little frisson of pride. So what if she’d only borrowed him for tonight. No one else knew that, did they?
Ella, thoroughly enjoying herself, continued to people-watch as the crowds still poured in. At one end of the hall was a stage covered by long velvet curtains, but there was no dance floor area. So, not a dinner dance, then… presumably it was more of a cabaret, and maybe with some speeches. She settled back in her chair as the waiters bustled round, filling glasses.
‘It’s a set menu.’ Ash leaned towards her. ‘Not very inspiring – corporate catering – but presumably the idea is to make money for the charity, not splash out on ritzy food.’
‘It looks OK to me. Very OK. Pumpkin soup.’ She chuckled. ‘Sorry, that reminds me of Billy. Oh, and roast chicken for the carnivores and mushroom risotto for the veggies, and crème brûlée for pud. Oh, and cheese and biscuits. Lovely – I’m starving.’
‘You usually are,’ Ash laughed. ‘I had to tick boxes for the main course. I went for the veggie option for both of us – Poll’s influence is really rubbing off – I hope that’s OK.’
‘Perfectly. I haven’t eaten meat since I
arrived at Hideaway. Don’t think I ever will again, actually. Ash, thanks so much for this. It’s great.’
‘My pleasure.’ He smiled.
Ella’s heart did crazy somersaults and she suddenly felt quite giddy with lust. She took a huge gulp from her wine glass. There, in control again – well, sort of…
As soon as the last of the latecomers were seated, and she and Ash had properly introduced themselves round their table, and discussed their appearance on Dewberrys’ Dinners with their very impressed companions, who all realised now that’s why they’d seemed so familiar, the waiters circulated with the first course.
The footlights suddenly blazed into life, illuminating the front of the stage. A very made-up woman in a sequinned frock and big glasses strode up to a lectern and tapped the microphone.
‘Please carry on eating.’ Her elegantly modulated voice spiralled tinnily high up into the beautifully stuccoed ceiling. ‘I just want to say, on behalf of the committee of Winterbrook Homeless Shelter, that I’m delighted to see you all here and to thank you so much for your overwhelming generosity. Your money will make such a difference to refurbishing and extending our existing drop-in centre and in building our planned hostel. We’ve decided that entertainment while you eat is the best way to show our appreciation, so I do hope you’ll enjoy our little supper show. And, of course, if you wish to leave another small – or not so small – token of your appreciation in the buckets by the doors when you leave, we’ll be even more delighted.’
There was a lot of laughter and applause. Then, as the woman left the stage, the curtains drew back and a troupe of vividly dressed jugglers ran on.
Ella loved every minute of it. They had the jugglers with the soup, and a close-harmony choir with the main course, followed by a very clever magician during dessert.
And in between, she and Ash talked and laughed together. It was like being out on a real date. Ella couldn’t remember when she had last been so happy.
The waiters circled silently, clearing plates, refilling glasses. Ella groaned greedily over the arrival of the cheese board.
From behind the closed velvet curtains, exotic music echoed. Ella tapped her feet under the table. It sounded very Arabic: sensuous and mysterious.
A gasp went round the Masonic Hall as the curtains drew back to reveal a belly dancer, moving sinuously in the spotlight. In a tantalising costume of flimsy, draped, brilliantly coloured fabrics, and dripping with jewels, she undulated across the stage to the wonderfully evocative Eastern music.
The whole audience was transfixed.
‘Wow,’ Ella whispered to Ash. ‘How beautiful. She’s absolutely brilliant… God, I wish I could do that. Look at her – Oh… Jesus Christ! It’s Onyx!’
Ash laughed. ‘Well spotted. She always opens with “Arabian Rhapsody”, but you wait until she gets into “Disco El Sharq” – that’s amazing.’
Amazing… Oh, yes, Ella thought bleakly, leaving her blue cheese untouched. Onyx was definitely amazing…
And the dancing – not a pole or a lap in sight. It wasn’t even slightly tacky. She’d got it all so wrong.
Onyx was a belly dancer…
A clever, talented, beautifully exotic belly dancer…
The tune changed to something even more Eastern and Kasbah-ish. Ella stared at Onyx, her sensuous body moving in perfect time with the mysterious music, in abject misery.
Onyx, in a filmy shimmer of hot pink and orange, every inch of her perfectly toned and lithe and glistening, the gold and silver bells and coins dancing, and the jewels glinting, seduced the audience with her brilliance.
Dear God, Ella thought sadly, how could I ever compete with that?
Even supposing that she got the chance to – which of course she wouldn’t, because Ash and Onyx were rock solid.
Oh, why had he brought her here tonight? Was it to show her once and for all that she was his friend and Onyx was, well, Onyx, and Ella would never, ever be anything else but a good mate? Yes, Ella decided, probably. In fact, obviously.
Well, she thought, watching Ash watching Onyx, it had succeeded.
Four more dances, each one more complex and daring than its predecessor, and Onyx took her bow.
The Masonic Hall’s audience was on its feet, giving her a standing ovation. Ash and Ella stood too and clapped and cheered. Ash, no doubt, Ella thought bleakly, because he was secure in the knowledge that Onyx – with her beautiful body, her clever brain and her multitude of talents – was his. But Ella stood because, well, because Onyx was amazing and she truly deserved the accolade – even if she’d just finally broken her heart.
And it had all been so lovely up to then…
They sat down again as Onyx took her final bow and shimmied from the stage to be replaced by wall-to-wall music-to-talk-over.
‘So?’ Ash leaned towards her. ‘What do you think?’
‘Oh.’ Ella crumbled her untouched blue cheese. ‘She’s incredible. Totally incredible. No wonder she doesn’t want to hide herself away in some stuffy classroom teaching Shakespeare to kids who don’t give a damn.’
Ash laughed. ‘She’ll do that one day, though. I always tell her she’ll have to give it up once the varicose veins start to kick in… Would you like some more wine?’
‘No thanks.’ Ella stared down at her plate. ‘Ash, I know why you brought me here tonight now, and it’s OK, honestly. I do understand, and I’m not a child. I won’t make a scene or anything.’
‘Good.’ Ash looked slightly puzzled. ‘I hate scenes – but I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about. Oh, hi –’ he stood up ‘– come and sit down. You were great. I’ll get you a drink.’
Onyx, back to being Onyx now in her jeans and her vest and her heels, but still wearing the thick stage make-up, beamed at them. ‘Thanks, I’m parched. Soda with ice would be great.’
The men on their table all became suddenly animated, Ella noticed as Onyx slid into Ash’s vacated chair. Even the women smiled, albeit not quite so warmly.
‘You were brilliant,’ Ella said. ‘Totally brilliant.’
‘Ta – but it’s like second nature now. Not clever or anything. Just something I’m able to do easily and reasonably well. Told you I was lazy, didn’t I?’ Onyx leaned towards Ella. ‘But I’m so glad you’re here. I told Ash you’d turned me down when I suggested you came along tonight; I knew he’d be able to persuade you. I so wanted you to see what I do.’
And now I’ve seen, Ella thought bleakly, and now I know why he loves you so much, and now I know why he wanted me here tonight, and it’s left me feeling more inadequate and foolish than I’ve ever felt in my life.
Ash came back then, bearing iced soda for Onyx and a strawberry daiquiri for Ella.
‘Oooh.’ Onyx eyed the cocktail. ‘That looks good.’
‘Thank you,’ Ella said, as Ash located another chair and squeezed in between her and Onyx. ‘But there was no need.’
‘I thought you’d like it.’
‘I do.’ Ella sighed. ‘Look, please don’t think I’m being a party pooper or anything, but would it be OK if I got a cab home?’
‘Why?’ Ash frowned. ‘Oh, God, you are embarrassed about the ice-cream van, aren’t you?’
Onyx shrieked through her soda. ‘Ash! You didn’t bring poor Ella in the van?’
‘She enjoyed it, didn’t you?’
Ella nodded. She’d loved it. She’d loved every minute of the evening – until…
‘Yes, it was fun. But right now I’ve got a headache and, um, I’d hate to spoil the rest of your evening. So you stay on here in Winterbrook with Onyx and I’ll get a cab. OK?’
‘Ella – wait!’
But grabbing her bag and leaving her strawberry daiquiri untouched, she blundered away from the table.
Chapter Thirty-five
The Pink Barbie team from Cambridge was the eastern heat’s Weekly Winner. Even before the western area heats had started, everyone at Hideaway was sure they’d win the whole thing.
> ‘But,’ Poll said to Ella on yet another July clear-blue-sky, spiralling-sun morning, ‘I still don’t really see the problem with you and Ash… I mean, I was so pleased when he asked you out – and then you came home alone – and now…’
‘And now we’re hardly speaking at all, mainly because I don’t know what to say. It’s changed everything. He keeps saying he thought it would be a lovely surprise for me.’
‘Which,’ Poll said, ‘I suppose it was?’
‘You’re not kidding! Although I’d leave out the “lovely”.’ Ella sighed. ‘Well, of course, the evening out bit was very lovely – it was just the surprise of Onyx being the mind-blowing incredible cabaret that threw me. And now Ash just thinks I’m being unreasonable.’
‘Which you are, really, aren’t you?’ Poll said gently. ‘Am I?’ Ella looked at her as she collected up George’s dirty washing from the kitchen floor and shoved it into the machine. ‘Yes, OK, I probably am. But I felt such a fool… I thought… well, you know what I thought.’
‘Yes, I do. But Ash doesn’t. He must wonder what the heck he did wrong.’
‘He does. He keeps asking me.’
‘And?’
‘And I just said it was a lovely evening, but I’d had enough and had a headache and wanted to come home – which even to me sounds pathetic.’
‘And to me, too.’ Poll frowned. ‘Poor Ash.’
‘Oh, I know I should have been more adult about it all and not let my feelings show, but I couldn’t… I just couldn’t.’ Ella sighed. ‘And of course, that was his point, wasn’t it? To let me down gently. To make me realise that he and Onyx are a couple – and why – and there’s no way I’m going to be anything other than a good friend. Still, at least I know exactly where I stand now.’
‘But you always did. Oh, love, I’m so sorry you’re upset. But you can’t accuse him of cheating on you, or anything, can you? He’s aware of your relationship with Mark, and you did know about him and Onyx – it couldn’t have come as that much of a shock, surely?’
The Way to a Woman's Heart Page 27
