Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Martin’s question, and its intended implications, revolved in Ellie’s mind during her morning calf stretches. When she wondered how Dan had received it, she lost her count and had to start over. Holding the back of the dressing table chair, cocked her left leg and rose onto her right at the moment someone tapped on the bedroom door.
It was Hannah, wanting to know what she fancied for breakfast.
“Not much, after the delicious dinner your husband served last night.”
“You’re welcome to use our exercise room. It’s fully equipped. Machines and everything. I’ll show you later. Kateryna’s coming over, and I’d better put together her shopping list. Come with me to the kitchen. We both need breakfast.”
Ellie indicated her tank top and leggings. “I’ll change.”
“Don’t bother.”
Conscious of the stretchy fabric accentuating her breasts, she grabbed a loose cotton shirt from her duffel and put it on. She slipped her bare feet into her leather flats and followed Hannah.
They found Kateryna and Richard surrounded by toys in the bright kitchen corner that was set up as a play area. Last night, prompted by Martin, Dan had spoken of his successful effort to arrange the Latimers’ sponsorship of the young Ukrainian refugee. Although her primary job was organizing events at the venues in the three adjacent villages, she ran errands and assisted the couple as a child minder.
“When I finish buying things,” she said, rising from the floor, “Poppy will have me make sandwiches at the pub. All holiday weekend activities I was planning and promoting at museums are stopped for the flood.”
Hannah said, “The relief workers will be glad of any and all assistance. I’ll be at The Peacock, too, helping with lunchtime service.”
Ellie looked away from her bowl of yogurt and berries. “I’m going with you.”
Hannah and Kateryna studied the contents of refrigerator and freezer and surveyed pantry shelves to determine what items should go on the shopping list.
When Kateryna returned from her trip to Newbridge, she dropped off Hannah’s requests and departed for Isobel Latimer’s cottage to do the same. Ellie encountered her again when she and Hannah arrived at the pub across from the village green, to prepare meals for displaced villagers and hungry road repair crews.
Spreading soft butter over pieces of whole wheat bread and passing them to Hannah, she commented on the cohesion of the community.
“A crisis does bring out the best in people,” responded Hannah, adding slices of cheddar to the sandwich. “But don’t assume it’s all sweetness and light around here. Martin deals with conflicts between residents whose interests and opinions differ. Some of them take pleasure from stirring up pointless controversies.”
“Bellyachers. In Birchmont, they come to the annual town meeting for the express purpose of making mountains out of molehills.”
They remained until a fresh crew of Poppy’s recruits arrived for the afternoon shift. Back at Stanwell House, Ellie accepted a toasted and buttered crumpet to go with her tea. The two men returned, attractively disheveled, bearing a parcel of fresh fish filets, shrimp, and scallops.
“Purchased at a discount from a market desperate to sell its wares at a time of reduced demand,” Martin explained.
He submitted to Ellie’s request that he let her assist with preparation for his stew. While he diced pollock and she shelled and deveined the prawns, they traded tales of kitchen labor in diverse settings—his canal side restaurant in Venice and her dad’s pub. Hannah, enlisted as salad-maker, let Richard shred the lettuce.
Dan, typing notes into his laptop, looked up to say, “When Martin and I stopped at the bank to discuss relief fund disbursements, we learned about a large donation received just before closing time yesterday. From an account registered to Estelle Lowery Colman.”
Pulling off a shrimp tail, Ellie said, “My small way of assisting recovery efforts in the Vale.”
Martin shook his head. “I wouldn’t describe a five-figure sum—in which the first number is two and the second is five—as small.”
“Oh, Ellie,” Hannah murmured. “That’s so generous.”
Dan added, “With no quid pro quo. Because she contributed to a foreign entity, she can’t claim a charitable deduction on her tax.”
“I could’ve arranged the donation from the Lowery-Colman Foundation, but there would have been a delay for admin approvals and documentation. It’s also a holiday weekend in the States. Direct deposit from my personal account was the speediest method.”
They dined on the terrace, in view of the garden areas behind the house. An ancient wisteria twined up the back wall, and the branches of blooms reached all the way up to Ellie’s bedroom window. When everyone finished eating, they carried empty dishware to the kitchen. Hannah handed over the dessert plates and followed with a rectangular shaped object on a platter.
Ellie studied the checkerboard pattern of pink and yellow, wrapped in a substance resembling pale putty. “What’s that?”
“Battenberg cake. Sponge encased in a layer of marzipan.”
“Where did it come from?” Martin wondered.
“Jan’s kitchen. To keep her grandkids occupied, she gave them a baking class. While they faffed about with shortbread biscuits, she created this masterpiece and Kateryna delivered it to us.” She began cutting.
Richard, who had been served his meal before the adults had theirs, climbed up on his chair and pointed at the cake. “Big piece.”
His mother gave him a thin one.
Ellie’s resolve to do a strenuous morning workout intensified when she accepted her portion. “The loveliest cake I’ve ever seen. How is it made?” Her first delectable bite convinced her that it was well worth any amount of trouble.
Martin severed a piece with his fork. “The batter for the sponge is mixed and divided for coloring. After baking, the assembly process is somewhat fiddly. Each section is held together with apricot jam.”
“I never had anything like this,” Ellie declared. “Not in Paris, the capital of decadent desserts. Or Tokyo.”
“What fun, eating your way around the world,” said Hannah, on an envious note. “Knowing you’d work off the calories on stage.”
Ellie shrugged. “My diet as a burlesque artist didn’t permit any more indulgence than when I was a ballet dancer.”
“What did you do between tours?”
“Prepared for the next one. I made promotional appearances and did interviews. I was booked for advertising shoots, print and film. I had meetings with designers at the companies that produce my merch. When not otherwise occupied, I coached my Mom’s students at Birchmont Dance Academy—all ages, from beginner to advanced and pre-professional.” After a moment of uncertainty, she chose to make a humiliating confession to her extensively educated audience. “I left school before I turned seventeen. Whenever my schedule permitted, I would enroll in community college classes. History. Sociology. Marketing. But I never managed to complete a course.”
“Ellie is a constant reader,” Dan volunteered.
“At the moment, I’m working my way through Stanislavski’s writings. The latest translations.”
Martin rattled off names of single malt whisky distilleries and asked Dan’s preference. He returned with a bottle and two cut crystal glasses. Ellie accepted Hannah’s offer of a non-alcoholic elderflower cordial spritzer. Richard, whose lips were speckled with cake crumbs, sat down on a stone step to toss a tennis ball for the dogs. Black and white Jewel was a skilled retriever. Ariel the lurcher disliked giving up the ball, and the child chased after her to reclaim it.
“I’ve decided to drive up to Tayer Court after breakfast,” Dan announced. “After I visit Dad, I’ll pop over to Harding Hall to see Brian. I’ll be back for dinner.”
“Why not take Ellie with you?” Hannah asked. “Terry’s roses will be marvelous. Ours certainly are.”
Dan smiled at Ellie. “Would you like to go?”
She didn’t want to admit how much. “I might be needed here.”
Martin said, “You’ve both been a huge help, but I doubt there’s anything left for you to do. In the morning we’ve got a community worship service at All Saints. Afterwards there’ll be an informational assembly in the parish hall for residents of all three villages. The councils and the staff from emergency services will give updates on repairs and so on. Besides, if you overnight in Thornbury, you can drive on to London early enough Monday to beat all the holidaymakers rushing back at the end of the day.” With patently false sternness, he added, “I want the employees of all Latimer divisions to be at their desks promptly on Tuesday morning.”
Richard, drawn to the table by the adults’ laughter, wanted to know the cause.
“Daddy’s being silly. Bath time for you, Richie-roo.” Hannah stood up and took him by the hand. “When you’ve got your jim-jams on, we’ll read a story in bed.”
“About the hedgehog.”
“Please,” she prompted.
“Please!” he shouted.
“All right.”
Looking up at his father, he said, “Be the fox. Please.”
Martin stood. With a smile at Dan and Ellie, he said, “Sorry to desert you, but I’m duty bound to perform. Help yourself to the libations.”
After the couple took their child inside, Ellie asked Dan if his family home was as palatial as Stanwell House.
He choked back a laugh. “Oh, no. But it’s even older, a combination of eras and styles. Original medieval features overlaid with Georgian embellishment in places. My great-grandparents were enraptured by William Morris, so the Arts and Crafts esthetic was imposed nearly everywhere.” He draped his arm over the back of her chair. “I can’t predict how well Dad would cope with an overnight guest at short notice, so I’ll arrange a room for you at the castle hotel. I can make a dinner reservation at its main restaurant. Do you mind if he joins us?”
“That would be great.” When she tipped back her head to scan the heavens, it landed on his upper arm. She felt his palm stroke her hair, released from the loose ponytail she’d worn all day. The sensation was intensely pleasurable. Her voice was noticeably uneven when she said, “Star light, star bright. The wishing star.”
His caressing hand blocked out all wants and needs except her urgent desire for him to press his mouth to hers.
And because she refrained from speaking her wish, it came true.
After breakfast, Dan, phone in hand, excused himself to phone his dad and make hotel and restaurant reservations. Martin remained at the table, jotting down notes for his address to the community. Hannah prepped Richard for a day at his grandmother’s and tried to dissuade him from taking along a supply of dog biscuits.
“Ernie has plenty of treats at Holly Cottage.”
“Exactly the same,” Kateryna assured him.
“Jewel and Ariel want him to have theirs.”
“Just one,” said Hannah, relenting. After she zipped a miniature backpack bulging with stuffed animals and plastic toys, she kissed the top of his head and handed him over to Kateryna. Standing at the window, watching them cross the stable yard to the car, she said, “I spend more time and effort getting him ready to leave the house than I do on myself.”
“Not always,” Martin protested.
“I guarantee I’ll be dressed and ready for church before you are.”
Left to her own devices, Ellie made her way upstairs to the exercise room Hannah had shown her yesterday. This was the right place to work off nervous excitement at the prospect of meeting Dan’s parent. She stepped around a weight machine and the stationary bicycle to remove a rolled-up yoga mat in the corner. After a completing her favorite stretches, she picked up the remote-control device and pointed it at the widescreen television attached to a wall. She found the YouTube icon. She searched for “World Ballet Day” and selected BBT’s portion of the twenty-four-hour livestreamed event featuring ballet companies across the globe. She scrolled past the introductions and stopped when she located Rafe’s morning class. Positioning herself beside the treadmill, she used its handrail for a barre and eased into a plié.
The familiar combinations should have come easily. But her thoughts strayed to her kissing session with Dan beneath a night sky dotted with glittering stars. Smiling at the memory, she bent from the waist in port de bras devant.
His background and life experience were nothing like hers, she reflected. She and Harry hadn’t had anything in common either, apart from dedication to their respective art and a shared passion for performing. He’d been born into the wealth and status his family had enjoyed for generations. Whereas she and her industrious parents, descended from laborers, were fully aware of the extent to which timing and luck had contributed to their achievements.
From her initial encounter with Dan Wheeler, she’d been conscious of his attractiveness and an appealing hint of humor. He hadn’t concealed a reciprocal interest in her, which had effectively erased her instinctive wariness. Since then, she’d discovered his mesmerizing blue-gray eyes and a family tragedy. Her fame had hampered past relationships, all of them casual and fleeting. Dan wasn’t bothered by it.
I want to know everything about him, she realized. His past. His hopes and dreams, concerns and fears. But he’ll expect me to share aspects of myself and my history, and that could damage rather than strengthen our connection.
Rafe’s voice drew her out of her reverie. “Fondu to front. Tombé. Piqué —on demi-pointe . Hold two counts. Repeat to the side. Rond de jambe en l’air once, repeat twice, and three times.”
He started on the grands battements, and Ellie swung her leg high in unison with the figures at the parallel rows of Studio A barres. Front, side, back. The cameraman focused on the pianist—Barry, so friendly towards her when she attended Onegin rehearsals.
She looked forward to seeing Leah and Drew and the other members of the first cast perform it. Should she invite Dan to go with her?
“Energetic start to your day.” Hannah came into the room.
“Force of habit. If I don’t move and stretch, I’ll regret it on Tuesday morning. Especially if Marcus Baldwin leads class. He’s merciless.”
“Do your muscles and joints hurt afterwards?”
“Ibuprofen and deep tissue massage take care of any aches. Severe pain is different—and dangerous. If ignored, it can result in major injury. I don’t know any dancers who are actual masochists—a myth that adds drama to films and tv shows. We can cope with the twinges. For something worse, we get an assessment from the physical therapist. Or the medical staff.”
“Pointe shoes must be really uncomfortable.”
“Not if they’re correctly fitted. We have ways to cushion the toes and heels to prevent blisters, which are absolute hell. I used to be constantly on pointe, practically all day and night—class and rehearsals and performance. After all that my feet were screaming for an ice bath. Nowadays I can leave the studio after two hours, counting warm up and cool down.”
“Sorry I interrupted, but I wanted to say goodbye before we have to leave for All Saints.”
“I’m done. No way can I do petit allegro in here—I need open space for jetés.” She reached for the remote and switched off the television. Spotting a box of tissues on a shelf, she pulled one out and dabbed at her brow and upper lip. “It’s been interesting, getting a glimpse of your life here. Although I don’t know how you manage to be a wife and mother and a movie producer.”
“With excellent spousal and staff support. And through sheer stubbornness.” Hannah’s hand flicked back her curls. “I’m fortunate that before Richard arrived on the scene, Acorn Films UK was well-established. After wrapping the fourth iteration of my mother’s gardening series for ServeFlix, I began scaling back. I commit to just one major project per year. Most of Liz Gregorio’s Thomas Hardy biopic will be filmed on location in Dorset, an easy drive from here. We’ll shoot some interiors at a Hartcliffe Studios soundstage, less than an hour away. If the traffic isn’t bad.”
Ellie stifled a yawn.
Hannah’s brows shot up. “Our Dan kept you up late, did he?”
“Not the way you’re thinking. Lots to mull over in the night. Meeting his dad feels like a major step. Towards what, I have no idea. And I wish I’d brought something nicer to wear besides one of those boring travel dresses that rolls up and unrolls without a wrinkle.”
“What color?”
“Black.”
“Of course. Come along, Cinderella. Let me be your fairy godmother.”
Ellie went with her down the corridor to a room of tall, wooden wardrobes and an entire wall of open shelving. “Wow.”
“Jacobean mansions don’t have clothes closets. This dressing room was my idea.” Hannah yanked open a wardrobe door, revealing a row of garments on hangers. She tweaked sleeves, mumbling to herself. Taking out a paisley-patterned chiffon blouse, she held it up for inspection. “If you wear this as a jacket, it will add pizazz to your little black dress.” Moving to a shoe rack, she said, “I’ve got a spiffy pair of slingbacks that should fit. While you try them on, I’ll find a sensational piece of statement jewelry.”
“You really do have magical powers,” Ellie said.