Chapter Twenty
“Forget Paris”
The muttered word seemed to pass unnoticed by anyone but Ellie, and Will diverted his gaze as soon as hers flicked upwards.
What she wasn’t expecting was another wary glance in her direction from Alex, before his fled to Will.
‘This is nice,’ declared Mrs Tremayne, accepting her son’s kiss on her cheek as the gentlemen reached the table.
Ellie took another slug of water, conscious of a flicker of alarm on Alex’s face as Will took the chair between Kate and Ellie.
‘Why do we have guests?’ Alex turned to his mother, who waved an airy hand.
‘Kate, as you know, is here regularly. We’re making excellent progress, and Ellie is a professional photographer. She is going to handle all the promotional photos for our brochure and the new website.’
Alex faked a yawn. ‘We need to go, Will.’
‘Alex! Sit!’
Ellie blinked at the stern voice emanating from Mrs Tremayne, then exchanged a look with a clearly amused Kate as Alex slunk into the seat beside his mother.
There was an awkward silence as a young man brought warm bread rolls and a dish of carefully shaped pats of butter.
Ellie – despite being on high alert to the silent man sat beside her – struggled to contain her amusement at the formality of the meal.
Seriously. Did people really still live like this?
She didn’t dare glance at Kate either, who’d nudged her in the arm as the server moved around, laying each person’s napkin across their laps.
Alex seemed resigned to his temporary fate, and the conversation turned to other estate matters, but despite being thankful she wasn’t opposite Will – and thus having to avoid his gaze every time she raised her head – Ellie found herself restricting every move she made.
Even though there was ample room for five around the table, his closeness was all-consuming.
The faint wisps of his cologne toyed with her senses, the low throb of his voice caressed her heart.
Her fascinated gaze lingered as his hand touched his glass or simply rested on the fine linen cloth…
‘Ma’am?’
Ellie started, sitting back in her seat as the young man placed a bowl of watercress soup before her. Then she grasped her spoon, thankful to have something else to focus on.
By the time the main course of cured sea trout with side salad was served, Ellie had relaxed, though that could have been down to the refreshingly light wine being liberally poured by Alex, waving away the server with obvious irritation.
‘Honestly, Mother. Is this level of staffing quite necessary?’
The young man had frozen by the door, and Mrs Tremayne fixed her son with a stern eye. ‘You live your life as you will, Alex, and leave us to do the same.’
When the plates were cleared, everyone refused dessert except Mrs Tremayne, opting for coffee instead, and the conversation moved to the upcoming community events to be hosted at Tremayne Manor. Alex’s boredom became evident, and he urged Will to drink up.
‘Come on, I want to go upriver. That new bar opened last week – the one on the waterfront at Polwelyn.’
Will, however, ignored him and accepted a coffee refill from Mrs Tremayne with a smile.
‘Now, why is there no ring on your finger?’ she enquired in the way only parents of friends can.
‘My husband and I have given up on our son. He shows no sign of settling down and presenting us with the next generation to inherit. But what can be your excuse, Will? You must be in constant demand from the ladies.’
Ellie suspected Will would quite like the floor to open up and offer him a secret passage of escape, and she all but held her breath, flashing a glance at Kate, who tried to hide her smile behind her coffee cup.
‘It’s precisely why I’ve stepped behind the camera,’ Will confessed.
Alex yawned. ‘When do you go to Paris, Mother?’
‘Next week, dear. It’s only for a few days, of course. I cannot be away for long.’
‘For heaven’s sake,’ he bit out. ‘There are enough staff on hand to run the house. You’re hardly needed.’
Ellie doubted he detected Mrs Tremayne’s wince at his cavalier comment, so she smiled warmly at her.
‘Have you been before?’
The lady waxed lyrical about going there on honeymoon many years ago, but not having been since, and just as Ellie was wondering how she could escape, her phone pinged.
‘Excuse me,’ she said quietly, but no one seemed to notice, chatting as the men now were about the upcoming production and the difficulties Will was having nailing down the necessary permissions from both the local council and the National Trust, who owned much of the coastline thereabouts and, significantly, at Polridmouth beach, where they wanted to film one of the dramatised scenes from Rebecca .
‘I’m so sorry – I have to dash.’ Ellie waved her phone, never so grateful in her life for a text informing her the latest mobile bill was available.
Agreeing to chat later to Kate, she thanked Mrs Tremayne for her kindness in inviting her to lunch, and was touched by the lady taking her hands, telling her she was welcome any time.
The men were on their feet too, though neither acknowledged her departure, and she sped through the doorway, along the hallway and out into the fresh air. Leaning back against ancient stone walls which had no doubt seen their share of turmoil, Ellie gulped in a breath.
‘Bloody hell,’ she whispered, breathing more steadily. ‘It never rains but it pours…’
Casting her eyes heavenwards, she glared at the brooding clouds overhead.
‘Don’t take that literally. I didn’t bring a hat.’
As she pushed away from the wall, the door opened, and her senses leapt to attention as Will came out. With no coherent words coming to mind, Ellie headed down the driveway, puzzled to find he followed.
‘I wanted to leave too.’ Will’s tone was matter-of-fact. ‘My phone was less obliging.’
Ellie didn’t feel this needed a response, and they walked under the stone gateway in silence. As they reached the lane, however, Will spoke.
‘You always wanted to go to Paris.’
And you said you’d take me…
Was he recalling that too?
‘I went. With a boyfriend.’
‘Oh.’
They were at the corner of the lane now, where it joined the street running parallel with the harbour.
Ellie released a huff of breath. Why was he still there? She turned to face him.
‘Spent all my time walking away from the Eiffel Tower.’
Will’s brow furrowed, but she set off across the cobbles, only to find him on her heels. ‘Why?’
‘I was worried he might try and propose.’
That should shut him up. Stepping onto the pavement on the front, Ellie increased her pace.
‘And did he?’
With a heavy sigh, she stopped and faced Will.
‘Yes. A week later. In the drive-thru at Costa.’
Will’s gaze dropped briefly to Ellie’s hand on her bag strap.
‘Sorry it didn’t work out.’
‘It did,’ she said firmly. ‘I said no, we split up. Best thing we ever did, as we’re good friends now.’
‘Unlike us.’
Eyes flashing, Ellie was out of patience. ‘And we all know whose fault that is!’
Silence descended on them both, green eyes locked with unflinching brown, and Ellie’s spurt of anger fizzled out. What was the point? Why was Will even talking to her, when acknowledging the acquaintance was clearly the last thing he wanted?
Heart aching for what might have been, Ellie summoned a forced smile. ‘Well, this has been fun. Bye.’
She shot back across the street, then realised someone was waving at her through the window of Karma.
‘Hey.’ Ellie greeted Marcus more warmly than she would’ve if she wasn’t so relieved to be away from Will’s disturbing presence.
He gestured at the sofas by the window.
‘Join me in a sandwich?’
‘Sounds a bit suggestive,’ Ellie quipped as she removed her coat, and then laughed at Marcus’s appalled expression before he too chuckled.
‘Sorry. That didn’t quite come out right.’
‘I’ve just had lunch, but could use the company.’
They chatted across the low table about the new website, which incorporated not only Ellie’s photography but also a tab linking to the diary notes she’d compiled for him.
‘I’m so pleased you liked how the interior shots came out. Those beds looked so comfortable. I think going high-end on the bedding was worth it,’ Ellie said, nestling more comfortably into her corner. Marcus’s company was the perfect balm to her disturbed thoughts. ‘I’d love a sneak peek.’
Marcus waggled his brows, and she giggled.
‘Of the website, you pillock.’
‘I know. I’ll ping you the link.’
They chatted a bit longer while Marcus finished his late lunch, before emerging into an afternoon that had brightened considerably, along with Ellie’s mood.
The curtain of cloud from earlier had lifted, revealing the palest of blue skies, streaked with wispy slashes of pale grey and white.
Gulls wheeled overhead as a fishing boat landed its catch, the plastic crates sliding across the cobbles and into the waiting hands of the man loading a nearby van bearing the signage ‘Port Wenneth Fisheries’.
‘I’m just popping to the book shop.’ Ellie narrowed her gaze. Uncharacteristic colour swept into Marcus’s cheeks as he hesitated beside a flower display on the harbourfront. ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘No, no,’ he reassured her, placing a hand on her arm. ‘It’s just…’ He looked around to his left and right, then stepped closer, and Ellie leaned towards him as he spoke quietly. ‘I haven’t tried to talk to Phyllida about… you know.’
Ellie held his gaze for a moment, then slipped her arm through his. ‘You don’t have to confess your feelings! Just see if she’s up for a coffee some time. Come on, you’d best come with me.’
Eyes wide, Marcus remained stock still, and she tugged at his arm, an impish smile forming. ‘She doesn’t know, Marcus. Remember? I have to go anyway, so you can just happen to be there.’
He drew in a breath, then nodded vigorously. ‘You’re right. Time to man up.’
‘By hiding behind a long-retired rowing boat stuffed with seasonal flowers?’
Despite his obvious agitation, Marcus chuckled, this time towing her along with him. ‘Fine. Just promise me your reason for going in is brief so I don’t have to say anything.’
‘Wow.’ Ellie grinned as they reached Pen & Ink. ‘I suggest you go to the dictionaries section and look up the meaning of manning up! Come on – just pretend, as we go in, I’ve just said something really funny.’
Before Marcus could change his mind, Ellie pushed him inside, their laughter drifting out into the autumnal air.
She was oblivious to a pair of dark brown eyes, narrowed and far from amused, on the opposite side of the street.
‘Are you okay picking the boys up? They’re arguing endlessly about what costume they want for Hallowe’en, so put your referee cap on.’
Ellie saw Nicki on her way for her afternoon shift.
She had plenty to keep her occupied, what with suggesting some tweaks to the website to Marcus, editing photos, making more card sets for the Christmas market and handling a call from someone who wanted to know if she could ‘just pop round and take one photo of their pet rabbit’.
After explaining her costs for the time involved – travel, setup, taking ‘one’ photo (Ellie rolled her eyes), editing – she fully expected the prospective client to decide it wasn’t worth it, but apparently, Flopsy Wopsy Buttontail was worth it, and she pencilled it into her calendar.
Surveying the orangery after the call, Ellie sighed. Anna and Oliver would be back straight after Hallowe’en. They really didn’t deserve to come home to a mess like this.
Setting to, she busied herself tidying stacks of blank cards and envelopes, delighted to find a missing earring under a pack of unused inks and a mislaid memory card tucked inside an open packet of paper sitting on top of the printer.
All the time, though – as she scurried to and fro, in some cases merely moving one pile of mess to another place – Ellie’s mind puzzled over what Will’s email addy could have been back then.
Was her only recourse going to be sitting for however long it took, scrolling back through all her sent items until she reached the month and year in question?
Was it worth it, when it might not even be there and would only prove Will right? Ellie shuddered as a tremor unease rippled through her. It would explain the depth of his resentment, if he knew nothing of it… but how could that be?