The Lake House

by Christie Barlow

  ‘We are going to be on the TV,’ Ella whispered excitedly. ‘Our fifteen minutes of fame… Oh my God, look!’ Ella’s eyes swept towards the waiter who’d appeared at the top of the stairs holding a silver tray with a colourful array of food. He walked over towards them and placed the tray down on the table. Ella noticed he was dressed in a black suit with a bow-tie and was wearing white gloves. Suddenly she was feeling very regal to be waited on in this way.

  ‘Wow!’ Ella’s gaze dropped to the food in front of her.

  ‘You have lobster, langoustine, salmon and sorrel ravioli. All the tastes from The Lakehouse bay,’ revealed Callie, ‘and a bottle of champagne to wash it down with.’

  ‘Perfect,’ replied Ella. ‘Everything’s perfect.’ Without thinking, she reached across the table and took Roman’s hand. He entwined his fingers with hers and held Ella’s gaze and she knew she had a goofy grin on her face.

  ‘I’m not sure we needed to hold hands just yet, the cameras haven’t started rolling,’ teased Roman.

  Ella was caught off guard, it had just felt so natural to reach across the table, and she immediately went to pull back, but Roman kept hold of her hand as they smiled at each other.

  ‘And roll,’ ordered Nancy. ‘Roman, are you able to pop the champagne cork? Oh, and don’t worry about your conversation – that will all be edited out. We just need to see the romantic chemistry fizzing over, just like those champagne bubbles.’

  Ella knew they didn’t have to pretend – there really was chemistry because the air was charged between them. Roman picked up the bottle of champagne and popped the cork, which launched over the balcony and landed on the golden sand below. Ella giggled, she felt extremely relaxed and comfortable in Roman’s company. This actually felt like a proper date and Ella was enjoying every moment.

  ‘I’m having a fantastic time on our pretend date.’ Ella tasted the delicious food and brought her hand up to her mouth. ‘This tastes amazing.’

  With the most gorgeous smile, Roman leant over and filled up her glass. ‘Glass of champagne, just for you.’ Ella watched him fill up his own glass then clink it against hers. ‘Here’s to fabulous food, great company and the best date.’

  With a pounding heartbeat, Ella knew she had a silly grin on her face, the eye contact between them was strong, their legs touching under the table. The electricity was fizzing between them and Ella wasn’t quite sure if they were still pretending, as this all seemed very real to her.

  ‘This footage is amazing,’ threw in Nancy from the side-line.

  ‘And this food is the best I’ve tasted in a while.’ Roman made a few approving noises as he waved his fork over his dish.

  Ella agreed with Roman – the food was delicious. She remembered her own reaction when she’d first tasted Gianni’s food: all the flavours had zinged her taste buds and she’d delved in for a second helping. ‘Let’s have a toast… to us, a blossoming new friendship,’ suggested Ella, holding up her glass.

  ‘To our first date,’ replied Roman without hesitation.

  Ella scrunched up her face and tilted her head to one side. Either Roman was acting this part well and could possibly be nominated for an Oscar or he actually meant it. ‘To our first date,’ she repeated, sipping her champagne and placing the flute back on the table, but fully aware that not one drop of alcohol had passed Roman’s lips – his glass of champagne was untouched.

  After Roman had devoured his food, he placed his knife and fork in the centre of his plate and gave Ella the most adoring smile as he sat back on his chair. When she’d arrived in Heartcross dating had been the last thing on her mind, but now Roman was breaking down those barriers and she really wished she could break down his.

  ‘I’m having the best time,’ she said.

  ‘Glad to hear it. My day has definitely improved in the last thirty minutes.’ He leant forward and took her hand again, sending shivers down Ella’s spine.

  ‘And cut,’ shouted Nancy. Immediately Roman dropped Ella’s hand as they both looked towards Nancy. ‘I think we nearly have what we need,’ continued Nancy, hovering at the side of the table. ‘What a lovely couple you are! You two represent what this restaurant is all about: fine dining, the best champagne and romance on the roof terrace, but we just need one last shot…’ Nancy pointed to the cameraman. ‘Alf is going to capture the stunning backdrop, so we would like you to stand up from the table and walk over to the balcony. Roman, if you could stand behind Ella and wrap your arms around her waist and look out over the beautiful bay that would be the perfect frame.’

  ‘I think I can do that,’ replied Roman, looking across the table at Ella.

  ‘Okay, on the count of three, if you can stand up, Roman, pull out Ella’s chair and walk over to the balcony, hand in hand. ‘One… two… three…’

  Looking out to the bay, Roman stood behind Ella. Feeling his presence so close to her, Ella’s whole body was trembling. She could feel his breath on her neck and every inch of her body erupted in goose bumps. As she looked upwards over her shoulder, their eyes stayed locked, neither of them faltered. Roman dipped his head slightly, their lips were centimetres apart.

  ‘Cut! It’s a wrap!’ shouted Nancy, causing Ella and Roman to jump.

  ‘And that’s that, our pretend date is over,’ she murmured, still staring into his eyes. They pulled away from each other slowly then turned round and walked towards Nancy and Callie.

  ‘All the footage looks amazing, so natural,’ announced Nancy, ‘there’s so much we can use on the news reports. Thank you both. Tune in tonight at six o’clock.’ And with that Nancy and the TV crew headed back down the stairs.

  Callie was looking at them both in amusement.

  ‘What?’ asked Ella, knowing exactly why Callie was looking at them in that way.

  ‘I’m saying absolutely nothing, and it sounds like you will both get your fifteen minutes of fame, but in the meantime, we need to bring you back down to planet earth and get you back on the restaurant floor,’ said Callie, checking her watch, ‘and Roman, if you can take over from Wilbur, the boat is due back soon.’

  After Callie had disappeared down the stairs back into the restaurant, Ella turned towards Roman. ‘I have to say, that was the best pretend date I’ve ever been on.’

  ‘Me too, and I wasn’t even stung for the bill.’

  Ella swiped his arm playfully.

  ‘You better get back to work before we’re both on a written warning.’

  Even though Roman was making a joke, Ella could hear the worry etched in his voice. ‘Back to reality.’

  ‘Unfortunately,’ he replied.

  When Ella was halfway down the stairs she remembered she’d left her apron on the spare table and quickly hurried back up to the balcony. As she stepped back on to the rooftop, she saw Roman was staring out over the bay holding his glass of champagne in his hand, which surprised Ella. Roman hadn’t even attempted to drink it at the table. She watched in silence as he poured the drink away into the plant pot in the corner of the balcony whilst muttering something under his breath.

  Without a sound she reached for her apron and quietly padded back down the stairs. Why would he do that? He could have just left it on the table. Ella thought back to the appointment card and began to wonder. Maybe Roman was a recovering alcoholic and didn’t want the world and their wife to know his business, especially his employers, but she wouldn’t know as Ella still had no clue about his life or how he ended up in Heartcross. All she could do was hope that Roman would open up about his past before it affected his future.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Dolores, you’re home!’

  After being tipped off by Hamish that Dolores had arrived back from hospital that afternoon, Ella knocked on her front door then let herself in. As Ella stepped into the hallway she was relieved to hear the music filtering from the record player and Dolores belting out a tune. Things were back to normal.

  ‘Dolores, it’s me!’ Ella called out again. Stepping int
o the living room, she could see McCartney was back where he belonged, curled up on his favourite armchair, whilst Fred looked comical bobbing his head to the beat of the music.

  Dolores was far from taking it easy. There she was, standing in the middle of her living room, with her kitten heels on and her hair bouncing down her back, holding a broomstick whilst miming to Freddie Mercury.

  ‘There’s nothing like taking it easy when you’ve just come out of hospital.’ Ella laughed, standing in the doorway.

  ‘Live every day like it’s your last!’ exclaimed Dolores, smiling and walking over towards the record player to turn the volume down.

  ‘I wish I had your energy, it’s been a busy day,’ admired Ella, feeling her feet swelling inside her shoes. Her first day at The Lakehouse had whizzed by, but not without drama. ‘But I received my very first tip today, and praise from the boss.’

  ‘That’s good going, tell me all about it.’

  ‘I saved The Lakehouse’s reputation by killing the food critic with kindness.’

  ‘Better than food poisoning, I suppose,’ chuckled Dolores.

  ‘And she went out of her way to give a glowing report to my boss regarding my excellent knowledge on wines and customer service… Between you and me, I had a little knowledge on good wines thanks to my time with Dr Alex James…’

  ‘So it wasn’t all bad then,’ joked Dolores.

  ‘Dolores! For most of them, I just read out the descriptions from the wine menu, but I must have been convincing.’

  ‘Good girl! Fake it till you make it, has always been one of my favourite sayings… act confident and people believe you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘Then I was filmed having a so-called pretend date for the news report going out tonight on the six o’clock news.’

  ‘A pretend date?’ quizzed Dolores.

  ‘Yes, a pretend date with Roman, and all I want now is a glass of wine. It’s been really hard work today.’

  ‘Sounds like it,’ teased Dolores. Walking over to the dresser, she picked up the decanter alongside two glasses and placed them on a tray. ‘All I have is sherry.’

  ‘Sherry it is,’ replied Ella, watching Dolores pour the drinks then taking a glass of the dark-brown liquid from her. ‘Yikes, that has got a kick to it.’

  ‘One glass of the good stuff always makes things seem a little better. Now tell me, who was this food critic?’ Dolores settled back in her armchair and rested her feet on the footstool in front of her.

  After Ella had told her story about Tiffany, she shared that later that afternoon Flynn had called her into his office to congratulate her on the way she’d handled her.

  ‘She is a difficult critic and customer. Tiffany has crossed Gianni’s path many times and usually she has the staff tied up in knots, but the way you handled her was a credit to yourself and to us at The Lakehouse. Your customer service skills were an example to the rest of the staff, and I’m delighted you are on the team. Keep up the good work.’ Ella’s impression of Flynn made Dolores chuckle as she reached for the remote control.

  ‘It’s nearly six o’clock,’ said Dolores, switching on the TV.

  As usual the news was all doom and gloom. ‘And that is the reason I don’t watch the news at my time of life, it’s depressing. I think at least one day a week it should be law that only joyous news stories can be shared, to give the country a lift,’ declared Dolores.

  ‘I think you should run for Prime Minister, you’d get my vote,’ replied Ella with a smile, thinking Dolores really did have a point.

  ‘I think I’d do a better job at it too.’ Dolores took a swig of her sherry. ‘These politicians have no clue these days. They make up the rules, then break them themselves.’ She tutted. They watched a couple more reports before the local news was aired, Ella recognising the reporter as soon as she flashed on to the TV screen. ‘This is it,’ shared Ella excitedly, waving her hand at the TV and wondering whether she was actually going to see herself on the screen.

  ‘Oooh, look at The Lakehouse, it hasn’t changed a bit,’ Dolores sat up straight and shuffled forward on her chair. The reporter was standing on the jetty with the impressive restaurant behind. ‘This place was once full of the rich and famous and often frequented by royalty, and has now been re-opened by property tycoon Flynn Carter. There’s only one way in and one way out – by water taxi. The mouth-watering dishes are devoured by diners, and no wonder – cooking up a storm in the kitchen is world-famous chef Gianni… but first, let’s take a look back in history.’

  They both stared at the screen as a number of old photographs of The Lakehouse flashed up. ‘Oh, my days!’ exclaimed Dolores. ‘I used to know all those people.’

  There were images of elegant men and woman sipping cocktails at the bar, others were dining, and then Dolores let out a squeal: ‘There’s me!’ A short clip was shown of Dolores singing on the stage next to the piano. ‘I look so… young.’

  ‘You look amazing!’ remarked Ella, her eyes wide. The reporter returned to the screen. ‘The Lakehouse used to be an exclusive dining experience, with reservations booked for months. And new owner Flynn Carter is well on his way to re-creating the past in the present.’

  They cut towards the bar where Flynn was being interviewed about his plans for the future, before the report switched to the stunning scenery outside, the golden sand, the bay with striking white jagged cliffs. The reporter described The Lakehouse as a place of romance and the perfect venue for that special dinner.

  Dolores pointed at the screen. ‘Look!’

  ‘Oh, my days… there’s me!’ exclaimed Ella, as she appeared on the screen holding hands across the table with Roman.

  ‘This is the perfect setting for romance,’ continued the reporter. ‘The Lakehouse has everything, the perfect rooftop terrace, the best champagne and all the food is sourced locally.’

  ‘And that’s Roman, the guy who brought you to the hospital?’

  Ella nodded, noticing the way he lit up the screen, which didn’t go unnoticed by Dolores either.

  Dolores raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. ‘He is rather handsome too.’

  After the news report finished, Ella noticed that Dolores looked a little saddened. ‘Those were the days, just the best days.’

  ‘Do you miss those days?’ asked Ella, pulling her legs up on the sofa and tucking her feet under herself.

  ‘When you get to my age you miss yesterday… every day.’

  ‘Dolores, I need to ask you something and I’m hoping you’ll say yes.’

  Dolores placed her glass down on the table. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Despite the news report just now, The Lakehouse is actually in trouble… financially. Hopefully, this might generate some business, but Flynn really wants to recreate those days, from the footage we just saw. We need to bring something special to the table to put The Lakehouse back on the map.’ Ella had Dolores’ full attention. ‘I’ve suggested we hold a very special evening called “A Trip Down Memory Lane with Dolores Henderson”. Gianni could prepare the most delicious dishes and after a three-course meal, you and some of the artists from your little black book could come along and perform. The locals could get involved, and maybe we could have a couple of current artists too, and I’m sure Nancy, the director we met today, would get involved with maybe another follow-up feature. Flynn would really love to get the exclusive Thursday nights back. But at the moment the word isn’t spreading quickly enough. What do you think?’

  Dolores was listening to every word and when Ella had finished there was silence.

  ‘You think it’s a bad idea, don’t you?’

  Much to Ella’s relief a huge smile began to spread across Dolores’ face. ‘Young lady, you had me at “A Trip Down Memory Lane with Dolores Henderson”!’

  Ella let out a squeal. ‘Are you serious, are you in?’ She waited with bated breath.

  ‘Of course I’m in! This is where my career started and, sad as it may be, this is where my career can end… a
nd who doesn’t want an opportunity to dress up and perform?’

  Ella clapped her hands like a demented sea-lion. ‘This is brilliant, are you absolutely sure?’

  Dolores held up her glass of sherry. ‘Here’s to “A Trip Down Memory Lane”.’

  Ella was up on her feet, engulfing Dolores in a heartfelt hug, before she rang Callie who answered within a couple of rings.

  ‘Everything okay, Ella?’ she asked.

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m still at the restaurant. Why?’

  ‘Is Flynn with you?’

  ‘He is.’

  ‘Put me on speaker,’ insisted Ella, feeling her heart pound.

  ‘Done, you’re on speaker.’

  ‘I’ve got news! I’m sitting with Dolores and she has agreed to do “A Trip Down Memory Lane”.’

  Ella held the phone away from her ear while Callie squealed. ‘Thank you, Dolores!’

  While Ella was on the phone Dolores stood up and walked over to the bookshelves. She pulled a black book out from the second shelf and then walked back to the armchair and handed it to Ella. ‘Everything you need to know is in there, guard it with your life.’

  ‘Dolores, we can’t thank you enough, you are a huge part of the history of this place,’ chipped in Flynn.

  ‘You’re very welcome.’ Dolores looked like the cat that had got the cream, her smile was huge.

  ‘What date are we looking at?’ asked Ella, knowing this was going to take some organisation to pull it all together.

  ‘How about two weeks, Saturday?’ said Flynn. ‘Do you think you can pull it off by then? Callie and I will get on to the TV news people, we can upload news about the event on Facebook, Twitter and all the social media channels. If you can organise the artists, you will need to think about timings, how long is each one going to perform?’

  Ella gulped, two weeks on Saturday – that was going to take some organising.

  ‘Two weeks?’ Ella was suddenly feeling overwhelmed and was looking for reassurance.

  Which she received immediately from Callie: ‘Yes, two weeks – you can do this!’