by CJ Morrow
‘Her work isn’t the issue; it’s her time-keeping. She doesn’t really understand work is everyday, all day. What are you having?’ He tapped the menu. ‘Or would you like me to order something we can share?’
‘Yes please.’ Ella’s mouth said, before her brain had caught up.
An enormous glass bowl arrived, carried from the kitchen with a sparkler burning brightly and when it was placed in the centre of their table, the whole restaurant clapped.
‘Oh no. Do they think this is some special occasion or something?’ Ella could feel her face colouring up.
‘It is special. We’re finally getting to know each other properly, that’s cause for celebration. Tuck in.’ Hal offered her a long-handled spoon and took his own.
The pudding was full of strawberries, raspberries, ice cream, fresh cream, meringue, marshmallows, tiny little cubes of melt in the mouth sponge, curls of white and dark chocolate, and sprinkled with gold dust. They didn’t get half way through before Ella knew she’d had enough. But she did enjoy crossing spoons with him, fighting over the last marshmallow.
‘So,’ he said, when they’d finished with still a third left in the bowl. ‘Tell me about your job again. What was this Barbie troll thing?’
‘Barbie troll thing. That just about sums it up.’ Ella tried to keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘Still, I’ve started looking for another job now, so I won’t be stuck there for ever’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Hal said. ‘Don’t let the bastards grind you down.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Ella raised her glass of lime and soda. ‘Anyway, it might not be practical for me to work there anymore.’
‘Why’s that?’ Hal signalled to the waitress to come over so that he could order coffee.
‘I’ve inherited a house, well a cottage to be exact. Well sort of inherited.’
‘Sort of?’ Hal’s face took on a puzzled look. So Ella told him the whole story, about the cottage, its conditions, or at least the ones she could remember, what a dump it was, how she really couldn’t see beyond that; it all came out in one very long, non-stop ramble.
‘Where is it?’ he asked, when she’d finished.
‘Lyffingdon. I’d never heard of it.’
‘I know Lyffingdon,’ he said. ‘Nice pub there; The Giddy Goat.’
‘That’s right. Don’t tell me you’ve got shares in that too.’
‘No, no.’ Hal stood up to go and Ella wondered if she’d missed the bill being paid, or if he didn’t pay. She wondered what she should do.
‘Um, how much do I owe you?’
‘For what?’ He helped her into her jacket.
‘Lunch. My share.’
‘Absolutely nothing. I wouldn’t dream of accepting any money from you; I invited you out.’ His tone suggested he was insulted.
‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’
‘My pleasure.’ He waved a thank you at the waitress and guided Ella out into the car park; at the car he opened her door for her and waited while she got into her seat. What a gentleman.
‘Why don’t you show it to me,’ he said as he started the engine.
‘The cottage? Really?’
‘Yes. As I said, we have a couple of rental properties, so I know a little bit about refurbishment. I might be able to give you a few tips.’
Ella sifted through her handbag and found the keys. She jingled them towards him. ‘We’re in luck. I have the keys with me.’
They drove into the village, drove past The Giddy Goat, drove past the incarceration toilets.
She directed him to Spring Cottage and when they pulled up outside Ella thought it looked just as shabby and run down as it had the day before. Hal got out of the car and walked round to open Ella’s door. This time she waited for him; she wasn’t in any hurry to get out.
‘You’ve done well here, Ella,’ Hal said, a broad smile spread across his face as he looked at the cottage.
‘Huh. You haven’t been inside yet.’
Hal offered Ella his arm as they walked up the path towards the front door. She hesitated for a moment, then linked arms with him. It felt good. She put the key in the lock and turned it, the door swung open with a creak. The fusty, damp smell swept across their faces.
‘See what I mean.’ Ella flapped her hand across her face.
They walked around the cottage and Hal made approving noises and enthusiastic comments about the size of the rooms, the potential; he even admired some of the furniture. But no matter how hard she looked Ella couldn’t share his vision. She tried to match the pictures in the magazines that Sam had given her to the dismal rooms she now stood in. In the magazines there had been beautiful cottage kitchens, but the kitchen here could never look like any of those, no matter how much white paint she threw at it. It was hopeless.
‘I told you it was a hovel,’ Ella said, although she wasn’t particularly talking to Hal.
‘I’ll admit it’ll need a lot of work just to make it habitable and that means a lot of money.’ He shook his head slowly and started to walk into another room.
‘There’s money,’ Ella said.
Hal stopped, turned around, stared at her. Then a broad smile spread across his face. ‘You have plenty of money? Enough to do this place up?’
Ella shrugged.
‘If money is no object – if that’s what you’re saying – then you could have the most amazing place.’
Ella looked around the cottage, turned her nose up. ‘I wouldn’t say money is no object.’
‘You could gut this place, have new everything, of course you’d want to keep some of the original features, but …’
‘No,’ Ella cut across him, ‘I couldn’t cope with it.’
‘But why not? You employ people to do it. When it’s done, you just move in.’
‘No. I have to move in within the next three weeks, actually less now.’ She shook her head. ‘Or I don’t inherit. It’s one of the conditions.’
‘Okay, so you make one room habitable, then move in and begin the work.’
Ella looked around the room they were standing in, the sitting room with the sad sofa and chair. She’d have to scrub and clean everything just to live in one room. She’d have to get rid of the smelly bits of furniture and clean up the stuff she wanted to keep. And there would be spiders galore hiding everywhere. It was all too much, just completely overwhelming.
‘I can’t do this on my own,’ she said, turning to walk out.
Hal grabbed her arm and pulled her back, put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. ‘You don’t have to,’ he said. ‘I can help you.’
Seven
Ella was quiet in the car on the way back. Hal had the good sense not to talk about the cottage either. Ella was thinking. Thinking hard. Would it be possible to live in that chaos? Alone?
Hal parked the car outside their block and held every door open for Ella – ever the gentleman. At the top of the stairs they exchanged cheek kisses, a light hug.
‘Let me know when you go again. I’ll be happy to accompany you. And I meant what I said about helping.’
‘Thank you.’
Ella felt exhausted; it had been a long day. She put the TV on and flicked through the cottage magazines without really seeing them. Her head buzzed. She didn’t know what to do. She made a mental list of the pros and cons of accepting her inheritance.
Pros: she could probably give up work – hurray, no more Barbie and the Troll. She would have enough to live on. She might eventually end up with a beautiful cottage – that was hard to imagine.
Cons: it would be very hard work. She was on her own. She would be moving away from her home town, even if it was only twenty miles or so. She didn’t know anyone in Lyffingdon. She doubted there was much nightlife there for anyone her age. In fact she hadn’t even seen anyone her age. She was on her own.
She wondered again if she should have chosen the second option. Too late now.
The more Ella thought about it, the worse it seemed. B
ut one thing was obvious, if she’d had someone to share it with it would be easier, it would probably be fun. She thought about her mum and a lump came into her throat. Her mum would have loved that cottage and known exactly what to do with it. Life could be so unfair.
She changed into her pyjamas, opened up the sofa bed and climbed in. She turned the TV off and lay down. It wasn’t really that late and she was tired but she couldn’t get to sleep. Her mind just kept going round and round in circles. The sensible part of her knew that Spring Cottage, no matter how dilapidated, was just too good to turn down. But the doom laden Ella couldn’t face it on her own. She knew, deep down, that she should be embracing the opportunity – how many people her age got the chance to own something so potentially beautiful.
‘I’m scared,’ a little voice said aloud; her own voice, timid in the darkness.
Ella finally started to doze, several times jumping back from that falling feeling. Then her phone rang, shocking her with its noise and flashing. She blinked herself awake and fumbled to answer it.
‘Ella, Ella, it’s me,’ Sam’s voice sounded urgent yet tired.
‘Sam. Is everything okay?’ Ella sat up, shaking herself awake.
‘Yes. No. Yes. Sorry. Yes, I’m fine. I’ve been out to a gig with Charlie; we were on our way home when his car started making horrible noises. So now we’ve broken down. The AA is coming, but we don’t know how long they’ll be or if they can fix it or anything really. I want to go home, Charlie will wait alone. I was going to get a taxi but Charlie isn’t keen on that. He suggested you. Could you come and get me? Say no if you don’t want to.’
‘Of course I’ll come,’ Ella said, as if she had a choice. ‘Where are you?’
They weren’t actually that far away, stuck outside MacDonald’s on a main road. Ella got out of bed, went to the loo and considered getting dressed, maybe she could just put a coat on over her pyjamas, then she saw her Kermit onesie hanging on the bathroom door. It was warm, much cosier that any coat she had. She pulled it on and zipped it up. She pulled the hood up too, buttoned the flap across her chin. Super cosy. She needed some shoes that the frog feet would fit into, she opened her wardrobe. Boots. That would do it. She folded the feet up as neatly as she could and pushed them inside the boots, bit tight and she couldn’t do the zips up, but they’d do. She grabbed her keys and phone and started off into the night.
It was cold and the steering wheel was freezing, but fortunately she had a pair of gloves – a left over from a gorilla fancy dress costume she’d worn last year – stuffed into the drinks holder by the radio. She pulled them on and smiled at her own hands, furry on the outside, smooth on the palm, perfect for driving, plenty of grip.
She started the car and headed off to find Sam. It didn’t take her long to reach the road Sam and Charlie had broken down on. She approached a mini-roundabout which gave her a choice of left or right. That was when she realised she wasn’t sure which end MacDonald’s was, which way she should turn; left or right.
As she approached the junction she straddled both lanes, keeping her options open. As she got closer she decided on left, then, at the last second she remembered, glanced in her rear view mirror and veered right. She could see MacDonald’s a few hundred yards ahead.
The flashing blue light filled her car, so did the siren, she pulled over to let the police car pass.
It didn’t pass. It pulled up in front of her, ensuring she couldn’t drive on. She swallowed, gulping air, her heart thumped in her chest as the policeman got out of his car and came towards her. He bent down to her window. She lowered it slowly and gave him a nervous smile.
‘Would you like to step out of the vehicle please?’
Ella turned the lights and the engine off. She picked up her phone and opened the door.
The policeman, mid-thirties and quite dishy in his uniform, looked her up and down as she got out of the car; his eyes finally came to rest on her gorilla hands.
‘Is there a problem?’ Ella’s voice squeaked.
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘No.’
‘If you’d like to accompany me to the police vehicle.’ He started walking and at the same time managed to move Ella along without actually touching her. Ella waddled along the road, her boots tight on her feet and flapping around her legs. When they got to the car he opened the back door and invited her to get in.
As Ella climbed into the rear seat a car went by and tooted at her. A loud wolf whistle resounded down the road and someone, somewhere shouted ‘needeep.’
‘Friends of yours?’ Another officer in the car said. A woman.
‘No.’
‘Name,’ the female officer said, her tone indicating that it had already been a long night. Ella gave her name, then her address, then her car registration number, but they already had that. ‘Blow into this.’ The officer passed Ella a breathalyzer; the male officer explained how to blow properly.
‘But I haven’t been drinking.’ Ella did a quick reckoning in her head; she had drunk last night, but not tonight. Could that still be in her system? Surely not. She hadn’t had that much. Had she?
‘You were driving erratically, that usually suggests intoxication,’ the female officer said, sighing. ‘And you’re obviously in some sort of fancy dress, been or going to a party. Just blow.’
Ella blew and the male officer took the breathalyzer from her and looked at the reading, he waited, looked up and almost smiled at her.
‘Okay, that’s fine. You obviously haven’t been drinking. What about drugs.’
‘Absolutely not,’ Ella said.
‘Do you usually drive like that?’ he said.
‘Like what?’
‘Erratically,’ he said again. ‘You appeared to go one way then veer off in the opposite direction. Very dangerous.’
Ella’s phone rang and Sam’s face popped up. Ella swiped her thumb across the screen.
‘Please don’t answer the phone,’ the female officer’s voice droned.
‘But that’s why I changed direction, I’m picking my friend up outside MacDonald’s, I couldn’t remember which end of the road it was. Now she’s ringing to see where I am. She’s probably worried.’
‘And your clothes?’ The male officer said. Ella thought she could see a hint of curled lip.
‘I was in bed when she called.’
‘In that?’
‘Not against the law, is it?’ Was she pushing her luck?
‘Okay, you can go,’ the female officer interrupted, having spent the last few minutes looking at her phone. ‘Everything’s in order. Just watch how you drive.’
‘That’s it?’ Ella was relieved and annoyed.
‘Frog outfits aren’t against the law, so yes, that’s it. You might want to rethink your footwear.’ The male officer got out of the car and opened the rear door so Ella could get out. He escorted her half way back to her car then stood and watched as she walked towards it. ‘Bye Kermit,’ he said, turning and walking back to the police car. As he opened the door Ella heard his colleague laugh and he joined in.
‘Bastards,’ she hissed as she turned her engine and lights back on.
‘You’ve taken ages,’ Sam said as Ella pulled up. ‘The AA is already here. It’s not as bad as we thought. I think I’ll stay and go home with Charlie.’
‘But, I’ve…’ Ella started. Oh what was the point? ‘Okay.’
‘Sorry to have got you out in the cold.’ Sam leant in to kiss Ella on the cheek, but stooped to look Ella up and down. ‘You shouldn’t come out in public like that. Thank God it’s dark.’ She shook her head and turned to walk away.
‘Bye,’ Ella called, but Sam was already back with Charlie, his protective arm wrapping around her.
Ella drove home, annoyed, humiliated and thoroughly wound up. She’d never get to sleep now.
‘Been up all night?’ Ben said as he walked past Ella at work the next morning.
She looked up and scowled. Had he seen her with the po
lice?
‘Only you look a bit pale.’ He hastened towards his desk.
Mid-morning an email popped into her inbox: Friday is Pink Day. Make sure you wear pink to increase your creativity. It had been sent to the whole team. Oh for God’s sake. Ella deleted the email, then opened her drawer and gave Barbie’s head a therapeutic squeeze.
By the end of the day all Ella could think about was getting home. She hadn’t told anyone about her police incident, not even Sam, who was oblivious to the humiliation she had caused.
Ella slept well that night and the next morning she awoke refreshed and perky, until she realised she had slept in again. She had little more than twenty minutes to get to work and half of those were needed for the journey. She would not be late, she was determined.
She jumped in the shower, even cleaning her teeth under the hot jets, and towelled herself dry at the same time as flinging open her wardrobe to find something to wear. She grabbed a pair of black trousers and a cosy pink jumper – one she’d completely forgotten she had – hurriedly dressed herself, scooped her hair up into a quick knot at the back secured by the first clip she picked up, which was also pink and matched her jumper – how lucky was that? Grabbing her coat she was out of the door within nine minutes flat.
‘Well done, Ella,’ she said as she started the car. Her stomach growled its hunger. ‘Shush you, you’ll have to wait.’
‘Morning,’ Ella said to Gwynnie and Tiffy as she slipped her coat off and sunk into her chair.
‘Morning,’ they chorused back. A quick glance from Gwynnie, but not even that from Tiffy.
Ella felt sickly hungry now. She’d give it half an hour then slink off to the restaurant and see what was on offer.
She switched on her computer and waited while it went through its tedious start up process. When finally it burst into life she opened her email and there it was, an email from Gwynnie sent since Ella had arrived.
Is today Friday? That’s all it said. No explanation. No context. Just those three words.
