MClarke - Green Wellies and Wax Jackets

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by Green Wellies


  She had blossomed in these few short weeks. Hours of probing through Ursula’s business records, and unravelling the legacy of her inheritance, had given her a determination he had found nothing short of admirable. Step by step she was taking over the running of the business and distancing herself from her stepmother and all she stood for.

  ‘Looks like there’ll be a few foals arriving here in the spring,’ Kate said, nibbling on a stick of celery dipped in cream cheese.

  ‘That’s the plan,’ Lewis said, flipping over a piece of steak. ‘Ella’s put Thomas in charge of the stud. He’s the one with all the experience. Hey Matthew,’ he called. ‘What do you think of the new horse?’

  His friend emerged from the stable block brushing the dirt from his immaculately tailored, and totally impractical, light grey suit. ‘I’d risk a pound or two on him at Newmarket,’ he said, ‘that’s for sure.’ He picked a can of beer out of the crate, and sauntered up the steps towards them. ‘Something smells good.’

  ‘Hands off!’ Lewis said, slapping his hand away from the sausages. ‘They’re not ready yet. Kate, can you get me the kebabs.’

  Matthew sat down on the edge of the patio wall, and watched approvingly as Kate leaned over the open cool box. ‘Miles has finished with the rough cut,’ he told him. ‘There’s only the theme tune to record now, and that’s all in hand.’

  Lewis nodded. ‘So we’re on schedule for general release in, say, four months?’

  ‘December the fifth,’ Matthew confirmed. ‘We’re aiming at the pre-Christmas market.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ Lewis skewered a well-cooked sausage and placed it in a roll for him. ‘Help yourself to relish or sauce,’ he said. ‘And don’t blame me if you get food poisoning.’

  Ella listened to the sounds of laughter and conversation echoing from the gardens, as she hung up the hay-net in the black stallion’s stable.

  Kate had been as good as her word, and staged a memorable party for her. Even going so far as to invite Ursula and her stepsisters along, though it had gone against the grain.

  ‘That woman is a parasite,’ Kate told her. ‘And it’s only because of Lewis Trevelyan that Hollyfield Stables is still in business.’

  ‘I know,’ Ella said. ‘But my father must have loved her once. Why else would he have married her?’

  ‘Because he was blinkered like the rest of them,’ Kate snorted. ‘You know how devious she can be, once she sets her mind to something.’

  Which was true enough, Ella supposed. She had taken plenty of people in, and Michael Lloyd-Duncan, a local solicitor and magistrate, looked to be the next person on her list.

  ‘What does she see in him?’ Kate said. ‘He’s an old, arrogant, and ugly little fat man.’

  ‘With money,’ Ella said.

  ‘Right,’ Kate nodded. ‘So I’ve got to invite him?’ she said. ‘Well, it goes without saying, I suppose. Got anyone in mind for Vanessa and Caroline?’

  And now the day had arrived, and Ella could not have been happier. She had Lewis in her life – the most fantastic, and amazing person she had ever known, and she was hopelessly and irretrievably head-over-heels in love with him. She had a business that was starting to recover, and a horse that was worth more than most of the others put together. ‘You’re a real beauty, aren’t you, boy,’ she murmured, stroking his velvety nose.

  ‘Aye, he’s a good un,’ Thomas said, resting his arms on the stable door. ‘You’ll not go wrong with him.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the music and merriment. ‘Shouldn’t you be out there, lass, with your guests?’

  ‘In a minute,’ she said. ‘I was just enjoying the peace and quiet in here.’

  ‘It’s been a long, hard slog for you, hasn’t it, Miss Ella,’ he said softly. ‘But everything comes to those who wait. That it does.’

  Ella smiled. He was right. Which reminded her - she had one thing left to do before the day was out, and she had waited quite long enough to do it.

  ‘What do you mean; you’re giving us notice to leave?’ Ursula spluttered as she stared in disbelief at the letter Ella had ceremoniously handed to her. (In front of Michael as well. It really was too bad.)

  ‘I think it’s all made perfectly clear in the letter,’ Ella replied. ‘The house is no longer your home. As of next week, I want you, Vanessa, and Caroline to move into the groom’s cottage.’

  ‘The groom’s cottage!’ Ursula looked as if she was going to faint. Her face had gone rather pale, and she began to fan herself quite rapidly with the sheet of paper clutched in her hand. ‘Ella, you don’t mean it.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I do. According to the terms of my father’s will, you should have been living there for the past three years.’

  ‘Well, yes, I know but…’

  ‘No buts,’ Ella said firmly. ‘And I’m relying on you to tell the girls.’

  Ursula didn’t know what to say. She clutched at her elderly companion’s stout arm for support. ‘Oh, Michael,’ she sniffed.

  ‘Ursula? Ursula, my dear, are you unwell?’

  ‘Darling, I do feel rather weak,’ she agreed.

  ‘Can I get you anything? A drink of water?’

  ‘No, just hold me, Michael,’ she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. ‘Just hold me.’

  ‘You should have done it years ago,’ Kate said, as she picked her way round the pile of packing crates that were stacked by the door. Two high backed armchairs and an oak bureau blocked the hallway.

  Ursula was not leaving empty handed. Everything she rightfully thought belonged to her was being removed from the house.

  ‘God knows where she’s going to put it,’ Ella said with a wry grin. ‘The cottage only has two bedrooms, and there’s precious little living space in it.’

  ‘I don’t expect she’ll be there for long, though.’ Kate took the offered coffee mug from her with a grateful smile.

  ‘I don’t suppose she will,’ Ella said. ‘Not now she’s got Michael Lloyd-Duncan in her sights.’

  ‘Poor bugger,’ Kate chuckled. ‘Should we warn him off?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Mother!’ Vanessa’s indignant voice echoed down through the ceiling. ‘Mother, I need you to help me with this suitcase. I can’t get it to close.’

  ‘Then take something out of it, darling. I’m sure Ella won’t mind if you leave a few bits and pieces behind.’

  ‘Will you?’ Kate asked, raising her eyebrows at her.

  Ella shook her head. She didn’t care what they left behind, as long as they removed themselves from her house, and her property.

  Ursula’s misguided ambition and incompetence had almost ruined her business. The stables would pick up, given time, but she wasn’t sure if her supposed feelings of family loyalty and kinship would ever recover.

  Wilson’s deep, thunderous bark preceded him bounding towards the front door, his paws clattering on the wooden parquet flooring.

  ‘Sounds like he’s back from London,’ Kate said, grinning.

  ‘Lewis?’ Ella felt her cheeks flush with colour. ‘But he’s not due until tomorrow.’

  Kate held the curtain open for her to see. ‘I’d say he couldn’t stay away.’

  The silver BMW was pulling up on the drive. Ella plonked her mug down on one of the packing crates and ran to the door.

  He was lifting a parcel out of the boot of his car – a large, flat, brown paper wrapped parcel. On the top of it lay an elaborate bouquet of flowers.

  Ella felt her heart give a sudden leap as he turned and caught her staring at him. His eyes crinkled, and his smile widened.

  ‘Lewis!’ She ran across the gravel, and flung herself into his arms.

  ‘Steady on,’ he laughed. ‘You’ll have me over.’

  Wilson was barking up at him, and cavorting around like an overgrown puppy at his feet. ‘Blasted dog,’ he said, but he was stroking the huge, silky grey head and floppy ears as he spoke.

  He handed Ella the bunch of flowers. ‘These,
’ he said, ‘are for you. And this,’ he lugged the parcel out of the boot, and set it down on the ground. ‘Is for the yard.’

  ‘The yard?’ she said.

  ‘Yep. I had it made specially.’ Grinning, he watched her ripping off the brown paper. The sign was painted in gold lettering on a dark green background, with the silhouette of a rearing horse as the centre motif.

  “Hollyfield Stables, Livery and Stud. Proprietor, Mrs Ella Trevelyan.”

  Ella’s eyes widened, as she read the inscription. She swayed unsteadily, and had to prop herself against the side of the car for support. He had put “Ella Trevelyan” on the sign – “Mrs Ella Trevelyan”.

  ‘Well?’ he said. ‘What do you think?’ He gave her a sheepish grin. ‘I didn’t see the point in putting “Ella Johnson” on the board,’ he added, ‘because hopefully, you won’t be Ella Johnson for much longer.’

  ‘Lewis,’ she choked. ‘Are you asking me to marry you?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s probably not the most romantic proposal in the world…’

  ‘You idiot,’ she sighed. ‘It has to be the most romantic proposal.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ he said. Relief was etched all over his face. ‘Is that a “yes”, then?’

  ‘Most definitely,’ she laughed.

  At that moment, a sulky looking Caroline, and a cross looking Vanessa were carting boxes and bags of belongings out of the house.

  ‘That could have been me, you know,’ Vanessa muttered, staring over at the pair of them, locked together in a loving embrace.

  ‘In your dreams,’ Caroline said.

  Lewis heard the raised voices, and smiled as he pulled Ella tighter against his chest. She snuggled her head on his shoulder, and hugged him close.

  In the distance, the two stepsisters were still arguing.

  ‘And I’m not having the bed by the window. It’s too bloody cold in that pokey little bedroom.’

  ‘What gives you the right to choose?’

  ‘Because I said it first, that’s why.’

  Lewis ran his hands down Ella’s long, blonde hair, and curled a strand of it round his finger. He kissed her gently on the lips. ‘I don’t know how you put up with them for so long,’ he said.

  ‘I guess I just got used to them being around.’

  ‘Will you miss them?’

  ‘No.’ She wrapped her arms around his neck, and gazed up into his eyes. ‘Not as long as you’re here.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be here,’ he said. ‘It’s as easy to base myself in Suffolk as it is in London. And if I sell my place in Yorkshire,’ he added,’ I’ll have plenty of cash spare to plough into the stud. So yes, Mrs Trevelyan–to-be, I’ll be here for as long as you want me to be.’

  Ella smiled as she tilted her chin towards his. ‘How does forever sound?’

  ‘Pretty good,’ he murmured, as his lips came down on hers.

  Kate stood and watched them from her vantage point outside the front door of the house. Young love – honestly! It would be nauseating, if it weren’t so perfect. She munched on a half eaten ginger biscuit, and clutched a mug of lukewarm coffee in her hand, as she wandered down the gravel drive towards them.

  ‘Blimey!’ she said, peering down at the half unwrapped signboard, and then up again at Ella, (who was in the middle of a passionate clinch at the time). ‘I take it I’m going to be chief bridesmaid?’

  Ella laughed. ‘Naturally.’

  ‘Great,’ she said. (The opportunities at a wedding were endless.) She smiled sweetly up at Lewis. Her face was a picture of eager anticipation. ‘So, tell me,’ she added, ‘Whom are you going to choose for best man?’

  ‘Kate!’ Ella groaned. ‘Can’t you just congratulate us, like anyone else would?’

  ‘I could,’ she said, tossing the remains of her biscuit to Wilson, who wolfed it down with gusto. ‘But a girl has to plan for her future, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Indeed she does,’ Lewis said.

  And Ella, hugging him close, could not agree more.

  THE END

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  © Morag Clarke 2005

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