Chapter Fifteen #2
She was pleased to see he looked a bit nonplussed.
‘Well,’ he blustered. ‘Once you’ve settled, there’s so much going on, you won’t have a minute to call your own.
The Spring Fayre’s coming up and it’s all hands on deck.
I’ve got to put some posters up around the village.
I’ve just had them from the printers. And a lovely banner.
’ His face brightened and he sat up as if he’d just had a light bulb moment.
‘Next year you can design the posters, with you being an artist.’
Ella gave a tight polite smile. ‘I don’t think I’ll be here then.’
‘Course you will, Magda said so. Now, you’ve got to take this handsome hound out, so why don’t we kill two birds with one stone and you can give me a hand with putting some of these posters up. And I’ll round up a few chaps for the banner.’
He drained his cappuccino, leaving a milky moustache around his mouth. ‘That was grand. Thank you very much. Now I’ll just get my coat.’ He beamed at her, his face wreathed in wrinkles as his faded eyes twinkled. ‘Not often an old codger like me gets to escort a beautiful young lady.’
She had to turn away to hide the sudden sheen in her eyes. He really was rather sweet.
When she returned from a surprisingly brisk walk – George had twice the energy of most people half his age – it was very easy to slip back up to the studio and get some work done on her mice pictures, sneaking the occasional glance at her new painting.
She was completely absorbed in inking in the colour of Cuthbert’s bright red fez, of which he was inordinately proud, when her mobile buzzed into life.
‘Hey, doll! How’s it hanging?’
‘Britta.’ Ella tried to hold her surprise in check. Britta had always been Patrick’s friend rather than hers.
‘So you’re still alive, then. Not atrophied yet.’
‘I’m just about managing.’ Ella tucked the phone under her ear. Giving Cuthbert a satisfied nod, she got up and wandered downstairs through to the kitchen where Tess dozed in the corner, one eye opening and shutting as if to double check she wasn’t missing anything.
‘With all that time on your hands I’d have thought you’d have rattled off another six of your little fluffy bunny books by now, babe.’
Ella frowned. She should be used to Britta’s casual dismissal but this time it stung.
She stared out of the kitchen window, her attention caught by a flurry of activity on the green.
There was George with a couple of other men, two of them unfurling the large banner, which he’d been very pleased with, and another banging in a big fence post.
‘I do put quite a lot of effort into them,’ she quietly rebuked.
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. So are you bored out of your brains? What on earth do you do all day?’
‘Well . . . ’ Actually, the days were flying past.
‘Want me to come and cheer you up?’
Ella almost dropped the phone.
‘What? You come here?’
‘No, babe,’ Britta drawled. ‘Send a hologram in my stead. Of course come there, you dumb broad. Everyone’s going to the Saatchi reopening and I didn’t get an invite.’
‘Didn’t get an invite?’ She frowned, realising she was paying too much attention to the activity outside. How many men did it take to put up a banner? Oh dear, yes, it needed a design overhaul. That shade of yellow was horrible.
‘Yes, me. Didn’t get an invite to the Saatchi gig. I always get invited to everything.’
‘Oh.’
‘I pissed off Giles, the curator of that dumb Noodle in a Field installation. For crying out loud, it was unadulterated A1 audience porn. Crowd-pleasing crap.’
Britta here in the cottage. Ella’s stomach clenched in sudden nerves. Was that a good idea?
‘A quick break will do me the power of good. I can fill you in on all the latest goss including the lowdown on Patrick. Much as I think you’re crazy burying yourself in the sticks, I think the treat him mean, keep him keen strategy is working.’
Ella’s lips twisted in wry disbelief. When she’d left London, she hadn’t had enough energy to plan a trip to the toilet, let alone a strategy. All she’d wanted to do was hide from view, lick her wounds and avoid having to do anything or make any decisions.
Tess opened both eyes, lifted her head and watched her with uncanny intensity, eyes zeroing in on her movements as if she was worried about Ella.
It was funny how in tune the dog seemed to be with her, almost as if Tess could read her emotions.
‘It’s OK,’ Ella murmured in reassurance.
The dog blinked owlishly, yawned and rested her head back on her front paws.
‘What?’ asked Britta.
‘Sorry, B, I was . . . I was thinking out loud.’ Britta would think she’d gone barking, talking to the dog or even thinking the dog understood her thoughts.
‘Yeah, I think he’s really missing you. Seems what they say about absence is paying off.’
‘Oh.’ Ella didn’t know what to say. ‘I’ve not heard from him.’
George was talking to someone else on the green now as he hung onto his end of the banner. Oh, hell, it was Devon. The heat of yesterday’s embarrassment flooded over her again.
‘Well, duh! Isn’t that the whole point of being on a break?’
‘What?’ She prayed Devon wouldn’t turn around and see her.
‘That’s the whole point, I said.’
‘Oh, yes, I guess so.’
Patrick wasn’t known for his patience but she had said she’d be in touch. She was surprised he’d managed to respect her wishes this long. Had he put Britta up to this?
‘Shit. I’ve . . . ’ Devon had suddenly materialised at the bottom of the front garden. He gave her a wave. Damn, she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen him. ‘I’ve just seen the time. I must go.’
‘Go! Go where? Don’t tell me you’ve got a hot date with a couple of cows, a few horses, a sheep and a pig.’
‘An . . . er . . . appointment. Dentist.’ That was it. ‘Toothache. Bad toothache.’
‘Off you pop, then. I’ll look up some trains. Let you know when I can make it.’
‘Right, fine.’ Typical B, to assume that Ella would have no other plans.
‘What’s the name of the station in this one-horse place you’re in?’
‘Tring is the nearest station.’ Ella was already in the hall, ready for the knock at the door.
‘Tring? OMG, seriously. Sounds horribly quaint. Do they still have steam trains? Will it take six years to get there?’
‘No, it’s a commuter line from Euston. Quite a lot of people round here work in London.
You’ll be just fine. Believe it or not, they run pretty frequently.
’ Ella didn’t understand why she needed to defend the place.
‘Look, I’m going to be late. Text me when you’re coming and I’ll pick you up. Gotta run.’
Tess stared balefully at her. Ella pulled a face. ‘So I’m a liar, sue me.’ With a decisive click, she switched the phone off, shaking her head.
In the meantime, she had to face Devon. What on earth did he want? She yanked open the front door.
As usual he had that ruddy healthy outdoors glow about him and his unruly hair was well and truly windblown.
‘Hi, I came to see if you were OK. I . . . er . . . felt a bit bad about leaving you yesterday. You seemed a bit . . . ’
She blushed, the tide of heat sweeping right down to her toes.
‘I’m fine. Thank you.’ What else was there to say? She’d made a complete fool of herself.
‘I’m really sorry.’
She looked up at his sincere tone. ‘For what? It’s not like you pushed me in.’
‘Well, for not being more sympathetic.’ He shifted on the spot, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his jeans.
She raised a candid eyebrow. ‘For laughing, you mean.’
‘Yeah. That.’ He did look rather contrite. ‘I shouldn’t have laughed. I wasn’t laughing at you, it was the situation, but it wasn’t very nice of me. You were clearly upset and I should have . . . ’ He shrugged helplessly.
It was quite endearing.
‘Should have . . . ?’
‘I don’t know. Been more . . . ?’ Again that little shrug. He was nothing if not honest.
Honesty won the day. In truth, perhaps she could have handed the whole situation with a little more dignity. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to block out the memory. It didn’t work. The words toddler, temper and tantrum all came to mind.
‘Apart from the laughing,’ she fixed him with a stern look, ‘there wasn’t much you could have done.
’ She paused, took a deep breath and then said in a rush, ‘I didn’t give you a chance.
I’m sorry, too. It was just so embarrassing.
I took it out on you when you were trying to help, sort of, and thank you for cleaning up Tess, and feeding her and wiping up after her. ’
The dimple in his left cheek gave him away. She’d seen it before when he was trying not to smile.
‘It was the least I could do. So no ill effects. No pond fever.’
‘Is that even a thing?’
‘Probably not,’ he said gravely.
She nodded.
‘Right then. I’ll be off.’
‘Right.’
They stood looking at each other.
‘Right,’ he said again. ‘Bye.’
For a moment she was almost tempted to offer him a drink. Just to say thank you.
He turned to go.
‘Bye.’
He turned back, the dimple loitering. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy going for another walk sometime? One that doesn’t require water wings. There’s a nice one up the Beacon, well away from any body of water.’
She smiled, she couldn’t help herself. ‘OK.’