by CJ Morrow
‘No, bring it here. Let’s try it.’ Hal held his hand out and when Ella handed it to him he leant over the spring and lowered it in. The calm waters swirled a little as he pulled the filled cup out. He fed the rod through his hands until the cup reached his mouth, tilted his head back and tasted it.
‘Urgh God, that’s awful. It’s bitter. Have you tasted this? Here.’
He handed the cup to Ella. She took a little sip.
‘It tastes sweet to me,’ she said, ‘and that’s what they all said. Have you been eating something spicy?’
‘No. Who owns the spring?’
‘I do. I suppose. Well, as much as anyone can own running water. I’m not connected to the mains.’
‘You could bottle that, sell it. Make a fortune.’ Hal smiled.
The spring started to swirl and churn, a sudden spout leapt up high into the air, Hal stepped back sharply, a look of disgust on his face.
‘I have to shut it quickly when it does that. I shouldn’t let the evil out.’ Ella half laughed and hurriedly wound the hatch closed.
‘Seriously, Ella,’ Hal said, when they were back upstairs, ‘you should consider it. People will always buy natural spring water. Even if it does taste disgusting.’
‘It doesn’t.’
‘Anyway, think about it. I could help you with that. Extraction, bottling, marketing. We could call it Ella’s water.’
Ella frowned.
‘No, maybe that sounds like you’ve peed in it. What about Ella’s Spring Water?’
‘It’s called The Spring of Life and I can’t sell it.’
‘Or course. Spring of Life. Perfect.’
‘I can’t sell it. I can’t profit from it. I have to respect it. Anyway, I don’t think, at least I hope, that I won’t need the income.’
‘We could put you and your Teletubby friends on the label. That could be its USP.’ He chuckled to himself.
‘Its what?’
‘Unique selling point. Differentiate you from the rest of the market; they’re all about mountain springs, freshness, natural.’ He nodded his head from side to side, considering his idea, then smiled to himself. ‘I think we should seriously consider that one. Or, wait, I’ve just had another idea – your fetching little frog outfit, you could wear that on the label.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Mmm, maybe not, that might suggest pond water.’ He laughed.
Ella laughed too, nudged him in the ribs to let him know she knew he was teasing her.
Then he grabbed her, pulled her close, held her head in his hands, looked straight into her eyes. She blinked. He smiled a kinky, sexy, one-sided smile that made her knees wobble. Then he kissed her, hard, long and compellingly. Ella joined in as wholeheartedly as she could, but the voice in her head was telling her what a mess she looked and how smelly she was.
He pulled away and Ella looked down; she felt embarrassed. She had fantasised about kissing Hal, but in her dreams she was wearing a slinky dress, heels, her favourite perfume, not a stinky boiler suit. She studied him, his immaculate clothes, his gorgeous smell; what a mismatched pair they were.
‘Come on, let’s get you home and cleaned up,’ he said, confirming what Ella was feeling. ‘Then what about dinner? We could make a night of it, I know a great little club, only an hour’s drive.’
Ella smiled at him. ‘Dinner sounds great. I’d love that. But I’ve got an early start tomorrow back here with the cavalry.’
‘Why do you call them that? Do they have horses?’
‘No. It’s what they call themselves; it’s just sort of caught on.’
He nodded; he didn’t look amused or particularly interested. ‘Okay, just dinner.’
Ella went upstairs to find her coat and handbag while Hal waited in the kitchen. As she wandered past the bedrooms her heart really did soar; it was starting to feel like home, her home. ‘Look at me now, mum,’ she whispered, looking up.
When she came downstairs Hal was in the little boiler room next to the kitchen studying the ancient pot bellied stove that sat on three legs. It had red and white ‘do not use’ tape wrapped around it.
‘So this heats the water,’ Hal said, ‘which also comes up from the spring?’
‘So I’m told.’ Ella put her coat on. ‘But it’s been condemned. Definitely not safe to use.’
‘No. When you take it out, let me know. I might know someone who would be interested in it as an interior design piece. Just decorative, not functional. Might get twenty, twenty-five pounds for it.’
‘Okay.’
‘So what are you going to do for hot water if you’re moving in next week?’
‘I’ll pop round to Walt and Edna’s for baths and showers and boil the rest on The Beast. And Edna says I can use her washing machine, so it should be fine. It’s only temporary, until I can get the work done.’
‘When does it start?’
‘Oh, I haven’t arranged anything yet. I do have a contact for a local builder, I need to call him.’ She thought about the card in her pocket, wondered if she’d have time to do that when she got home, between having a shower, washing her hair, plucking her eyebrows and possibly other places and generally anointing herself with sweet smelling oils, just in case.
‘Who is this local builder?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, just a company everyone in the village uses. Apparently they give good rates to locals.’
‘Probably doesn’t get much business elsewhere,’ Hal muttered. He closed the boiler room door and followed the pipes through the wall and into the kitchen all the way to the sink taps. ‘Which is which?’
Ella thought about it for a while. ‘I can’t remember.’ She could only think now about getting clean and dressed in something more glamorous than a boiler suit. Ella buttoned up her coat, shouldered her handbag and turned away.
The clonking noise was horrendous. Hal had turned on a tap. Ella could tell it was the left one because it was rattling furiously on its mounting. They exchanged alarmed looks then Ella shouted, ‘turn it off.’
Hal glanced at it as though it were a dangerous animal, then reached for the tap. It wouldn’t turn. Ella dropped her handbag on the floor and lurched for the tap, grabbing and attempting to turn it off, all the while the tap shook violently and the noise increased.
‘It won’t turn off,’ she cried above the noise.
‘You don’t say,’ Hal said. ‘But at least there’s no water.’
The tap hissed, then spluttered. Then there was water. It gushed out at a furious rate, hitting the shallow stone sink and quickly filling it before it started to overflow. Ella tried harder to turn the tap, it wouldn’t move, she looked round for something to give her extra traction, grabbed a tea towel Edna had left and wrapped it around the tap handle.
‘It’s giving,’ she called to Hal – who had stepped well away from the sink – as the tap began to turn. Slowly the flow diminished, until finally it stopped. Ella breathed a sigh of relief, then looked down at her feet. It was just as well she was wearing her ancient trainers as they were now soaked. She stood in a puddle, Hal, however, was on dry land. Well, at least his lovely shoes weren’t ruined.
‘Sorry about that,’ Hal said.
‘Not your fault,’ Ella said, between gritted teeth. It wasn’t his fault, but she wished he hadn’t touched it.
‘I guess that’s the hot one then, from the condemned boiler.’
Ella shrugged. ‘The sooner it’s all replaced, the better.’
‘Yes.’ Hal’s eyes followed the line of higgledy-piggledy cupboards finally stopping at the puddle Ella stood in.
‘I need to mop this up so it’s dry in the morning,’ Ella said. Suddenly she felt dog tired, she really didn’t want to spend time mopping up the kitchen.
‘Anything I can do?’ Hal said and Ella imagined him slopping a mop around his designer shoes.
‘No. I can manage. Thanks.’ She paddled over to the mop and bucket in the corner and opened the top part of the kitchen stable door to let some air in to help dry the floor.
She started to mop, squeezing the water out into the bucket, then mopping again.
‘Look, if there’s nothing I can do,’ Hal said, his car keys already in his hand, ‘I’ll get off. Shall I call for you at seven? Will you be ready by then? I think I owe you an extra special dinner after this.’ He smiled his gorgeous smile, heart-melting.
‘Yes. Of course.’ Ella smiled back at him. ‘I’ll see you later.’ She watched Hal let himself out of the front door and saw him walk down the path and get into his car. Then she turned back to the kitchen floor. It only took another ten minutes for her to finish mopping and then she emptied the bucket down the sink. Even after sloshing around on the floor the water still smelled sweet. She put the bucket back in its place and glanced around the kitchen once more; the floor was already started to dry. She picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder.
Swish. Swoosh. What the hell was that? She turned. The tap was rattling again. But how could that be, it was turned off.
The top of the tap hit the ceiling, then flew into the corner of the room. The water gushed out at phenomenal pressure and also hit the ceiling. Screeching, Ella grabbed the tea towel she had used to turn the tap off and ran towards it. She tried wedging the towel in the top of the tap, soaking her coat sleeve in the process; but the pressure was too great and the tea towel hit the ceiling and was pinned there by the water jet. Suddenly the pressure dropped then picked up again and this time the tea towel, still pinned to the ceiling, diverted the water straight at her. It felt as though a bucketful had been thrown over her, she was drenched.
She ran out of the water’s way and had to force herself not to cry. What the hell should she do? Go and get Walt? Then she remembered the card he had given her, she unbuttoned her soaked coat, and fished in her pocket.
The voice at the other end of the phone was a woman’s. Ella explained what had happened and begged them to send someone. The woman said she would send one of the men immediately. In the meantime she suggested that Ella try and find the stopcock.
‘The whatcock?’ Ella said.
‘It might be under the sink. If not, try following the pipes. It looks like a tap, but it will be on the pipe.’
Ella put the phone down, looked under the sink, couldn’t see anything then tried following the pipes into the boiler room. She couldn’t find anything that looked like a tap. She went back into the kitchen just as the water pressure dropped again then picked back up and the water spout was diverted straight at her yet again. She screamed as the icy water hit her full in the face. She managed to escape and stood dripping onto the floor.
She felt like crying, in fact she thought she might be; it was hard to tell with so much water everywhere.
There was loud rap on the kitchen door. It must be the man from the builders; that was quick, thank God. She turned towards the door, saw the man resting his arms on the bottom half of the stable door, no doubt taking in the devastation. Then she saw his face at exactly the same time as he saw hers.
‘You,’ they yelled in unison.
Eleven
Ella blinked. Nathan blinked. Neither spoke. Ella took in Nathan’s cropped hair, his white T-shirt, his muscles. She felt his mocking eyes running up and down her body so that she was acutely aware of her own appearance; the dripping hair, the soaked coat exposing the paint-splattered boiler suit beneath, the snot bubble now forming on the end of her nose.
‘Just go,’ she screeched, and this time she knew she was crying.
Nathan shrugged, turned and walked away but not before he cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Did he just smirk?
She turned back to the tap, its fountain still hitting the ceiling. She tried to stuff a sponge from the draining board into the tap pipe – a vain attempt to dam the geyser. It shot out and joined the tea towel pinned to the ceiling.
‘Oh, oh,’ Ella heard herself bawling like a baby.
The water pressure dropped. The tea towel dropped to the floor. The water went off. Ella moved as far away as she could before the pressure picked up again. She waited. Nothing. She waited. Nothing. She took one step forward and peered at the tap; she was ready to spring back if it started again.
‘I’ve switched it off,’ Nathan said, coming into the kitchen from the hall door. ‘It’ll be fine now.’
Ella stood looking at him for a moment. ‘Where did you come from? How did you get in?’
‘I came back in the front door, it was swinging open, I’ve closed it.’ He turned to walk away, then turned back. ‘Someone’s been tampering with that condemned boiler, haven’t they? This is what happens. It’s condemned for a reason.’
Ella blinked at him, felt like a naughty child suitably told off. ‘Not me,’ she muttered.
Nathan looked her up and down again, said ‘You’re welcome,’ before turning away.
‘You owe me,’ Ella blurted to his back.
He turned round, looked her in the face. ‘Actually, I took all your old tat down the tip, so I think you owe me. Twice. I can’t think what I might owe you for.’
He was out of the kitchen door and down the path while Ella was still trying to form a response. Finally, it came to her. She squelched across the kitchen, stepped outside just as he was getting into his van and shouted, ‘that shitty song.’
If he heard, he didn’t reply, just glanced at her and lifted his chin.
‘Arrogant bastard,’ she shouted after him.
‘Everything all right, young Ella?’ Walt was standing behind her. Had he heard her swearing? She shook her head slowly. Walt stepped forward and gave her a hug. She pulled away quickly, remembering how sodden she was, no need to soak him too.
In the kitchen Edna was wielding the mop and bucket.
‘How did you get in here without me seeing? Is the front door still open?’
‘I just walked past you, but I think you might have been occupied elsewhere,’ Edna said. She had almost finished mopping up.
Ella looked up, the force of the water had taken great chunks out of the ceiling; the soggy pieces spread out in the sink. Yet, somehow the sponge still stuck fast. ‘Look at that,’ Ella said; she could almost see the funny side of it. Then the sponge fell down, hit her full in the face. Ella wavered between laughing and crying again, laughing won, especially when Walt and Edna joined in.
‘Is he the only builder in the village?’ Ella said, as they were leaving.
‘Yes, it’s a family firm. But Gilbert fell from some scaffolding, broke his leg in three places, so Nathan came back. Nathan has taken over the running of the firm until Gilbert is better,’ Walt said, smiling. ‘I got the impression you two had met before.’ There was a hint of mischief in his tone.
‘You could say that,’ Ella said, but she didn’t elaborate.
As she showered, washed her hair and dressed, Ella couldn’t stop thinking about Nathan. How dare he invade her life? How dare he turn up in her village and spoil it. When she thought of that song, that shitty little song, she could scream. One thing was for sure she would not, most certainly not, be using Nathan’s building firm for the renovation of Spring Cottage. She was also annoyed by his looks. Gone was his rock star hair which Ella had always found particularly attractive, she’d loved the way he peered enigmatically from behind it, yet his new cropped hair cut was even better, he looked so devastatingly male. She thought about how muscled up he was, something she’d never noticed beneath the grungy dark clothes and heavy leather jackets he always wore in the band. And what was the white T-shirt about? White. Really? For a builder?
Stop it, stop thinking about him; Mr Bastard Shitty Song.
Ella had just finished drying her hair when Hal knocked on the door. She was dressed, but she hadn’t put any makeup on – did she have time? She glanced around the grotty bedsit – no, she definitely wasn’t inviting super cool Hal into this mess.
She opened the door and stepped out at Hal’s feet. He leaned in for a quick peck on the lips but Ella misread his movement and turned her face aside, it looked
as though she were avoiding him.
Don’t apologise, she told herself, it will make it worse.
Hal was wearing a soft cashmere jacket over a designer shirt. His now familiar aroma filled the stairway as they walked down together.
‘I’ve booked a table at Gino’s,’ Hal said, holding the communal door open for Ella, ‘I hope you like Italian.’
‘I love it,’ she smiled. She was so hungry she would have eaten anything, but Italian was her favourite. Clever Hal.
He opened the car door for her, waited while she got in and then closed it. Such manners.
‘Tap all right after I left?’ he asked.
‘Not really. Well, okay in the end.’
‘Good.’ He smiled and concentrated on driving.
‘It did sort of explode again. I got soaked. Had to call for help.’
‘Your neighbours?’
‘No, the local builder.’
‘Good. Best to get the experts in.’ Hal drove past the spot where Ella had been stopped by the police. She opened her mouth to tell him, then decided against it. No need for him to know she had been out in public in the Kermit onesie.
In the restaurant the staff danced attendance around Hal, he laughed and joked with them and enjoyed their attention.
‘Don’t tell me you own a part of this business too,’ Ella said.
‘No. I just dine here rather a lot.’
How nice for him, Ella thought, and for me now.
Ella ordered Tagliatelle al Salmone, Hal ordered a steak. Hal also ordered bottled mineral water for them both – no offer of wine tonight.
‘I’d be quite happy with a jug of tap water,’ Ella said as the waiter opened the bottle and began to pour. He stopped, waited for instructions.
‘Please pour,’ Hal said, without hesitation.
After the waiter had gone Ella reiterated her comment. She took a large gulp. ‘It’s very expensive and it doesn’t really taste any different.’
‘You’re quite right about the price. The taste…’ he shook his head from side to side, made a face, ‘not sure I agree with you on that.’
‘Bottle’s pretty though,’ Ella said, fingering the tall, tapering bright blue bottle.
