Chapter 2
She swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. It was him. It was only her mum and Murray who had ever called her Eleanor.
As their eyes met, with the headlights shining behind them, she forced herself to take a deep breath, a vain attempt to steady the onslaught of emotions running through her.
What was he doing here? And since when had sweet, caring Murray started yelling at people who had broken down at the side of the road?
She waved her hand towards her car. ‘I got a flat.’
‘You got a flat?’ Sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans, Murray didn’t take his eyes off her. He didn’t move a muscle either, unless you counted that little tic in his jaw.
Ellie nodded, suddenly losing the ability to speak as memories came flooding back to her.
Memories of how she’d felt about Murray, memories of how their four-year relationship had ended.
Memories of feeling her life had been shattered in two as she’d watched him board that plane.
The overwhelming grief which had consumed her for months.
She never thought she’d see him again, and she’d prepared herself for that, so now that he was standing here staring at her, she just didn’t know how to react, what to say.
Feelings of sadness, anger, love and desire flooded through her, each emotion vying to be heard, seen, acknowledged.
Placing her hand on the side of her car, she steadied herself as she felt every ounce of energy she had drain away. She could barely breathe, and it quite honestly felt as though her world had shifted. Once more.
Murray cleared his throat. ‘I…’
Shaking her head, Ellie dropped to her knees and began pumping the jack to raise the car.
She needed to get this wheel changed, and she needed to get away.
Away from him. Away from the memories that were threatening to overwhelm her.
If she didn’t, she was sure she’d run towards him and wrap her arms around him, beg him to take her back, to tell her everything would be okay.
It had always been Murray. She’d tried with Rick.
She’d tried to love him. Properly, fully, entirely, as she had Murray.
And she’d thought she’d succeeded. She had been able to imagine a future with Rick.
Possibly even marriage. But now Murray was standing barely a few feet from her, she realised that the love she’d felt for Rick hadn’t even touched how she’d felt about Murray, her first love.
She could feel his presence behind her, his figure casting a shadow over her. She forced the wheel nuts off and tugged at the wheel, willing it to shift. She was aware of him kneeling beside her, of him reaching out, his fingers brushing against hers as he wriggled the wheel and pulled it off.
Jerking her head towards him, she felt a crushing sorrow rising from the pit of her stomach and flooding her veins. Life could have been good with him. So good. Perfect.
‘Thanks.’ Her voice came out as a croak, barely audible above the sound of her heart hammering in her chest as she shifted back, letting him replace the wheel with the spare.
As he lowered her car again and released the jack before standing, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She had so many questions running through her mind, but she just couldn’t speak. She couldn’t articulate what she wanted to say to him.
Finally, Murray spoke instead. ‘What are you doing here?’ He picked up the damaged tyre.
Pausing, she turned and looked down at her shoes.
If she caught his gaze, she wasn’t quite sure she’d ever be able to look away.
She felt her cheeks ignite with embarrassment, as though she’d been caught out.
Meadowfield was always going to be where she and Murray would live.
After he’d whisked her away for a romantic weekend to the Cotswolds, it had been a unanimous decision that Meadowfield should be where they settled.
The strong sense of community, the idyllic Cotswold stone cottages, the centre which had just enough shops but not too many, the primary school.
Everything about this village had been perfect.
That was why she’d moved here alone. When she’d finally felt human enough to make decisions again, to decide on her future, she’d got a job working with Melissa and moved to Meadowfield.
It had made sense, and not just because she’d felt so close to the memories she and Murray had shared.
Meadowfield was close enough to Chipping Norton, where All Things Love was based, and she’d found the perfect cottage to rent.
Her parents had worried, but they always did.
They’d have worried if she’d moved two streets away from them.
A year in, she’d met Rick, and they’d made Meadowfield their home together.
As it had turned out, it had been a case of right home, wrong man.
She cleared her throat, her eyes trained on the boxes strewn between them as he secured the now defunct wheel beneath the carpet in the boot. ‘I live here. What about you?’
Turning, he ran the palm of his hand over his chin, the stubble rough against his skin. He stared at her, seemingly trying to process what she was saying for a moment before finally speaking. ‘I’ve just moved to the area.’
She nodded as her stomach flipped. He’d moved here?
He lived in Meadowfield? Why? Had he moved here because it had always been ‘their’ village?
No, he wouldn’t remember that. When had he moved?
Before she could open her mouth to ask, the shrill tune of a mobile filled the quiet evening air, and he pulled a phone from his pocket.
Grimacing, he glanced at her, lifting the mobile to his ear as he mouthed the word, sorry, before turning away and speaking quietly.
Ellie turned and began loading her boxes back into the boot, her hands shaking as she did so. Murray was here. Murray had moved to Meadowfield. After almost nine years of not seeing or speaking to him, he was standing just a few feet away.
She glanced across at him. His tone was cool, guarded, as he spoke quickly into the mobile.
She couldn’t remember him sounding like this.
Yes, they’d had their arguments, but this was different.
He was different. Even just the way he’d approached her thinking she was a stranger, the old Murray would never, ever have spoken to anyone the way he had when he’d yelled at her for blocking his gate.
The old Murray would have shrugged off the inconvenience, perhaps even struck up a conversation, certainly offered to help.
She shook her head as she placed the final box back into the boot, shoving it with her hip before pulling the lid of the boot down quickly before the boxes had time to shift and fall. A lot could happen in nine years. It certainly had for her.
After pulling her car key from her pocket, she paused.
He was still talking on the phone and was pacing up and down the road in front of the gateway into the field.
What should she do? Go? Leave him and quite possibly lose her only chance of talking to him?
But he lived in Meadowfield now. That’s what he’d said.
She’d get to see him again. Probably run into him at the bakery or whilst food shopping. Surely?
As if Murray had been listening to her inner dilemma, he turned and pulled the mobile from his ear. Covering the mic with his palm, he spoke quickly. ‘I’m so sorry, Eleanor. I’d love nothing more than to catch up, but…’
Ellie could feel her cheeks heat. He was giving her the brush-off.
What had she expected? That he still loved her?
Or at least felt something for her? That he’d beg her to spend the entire evening catching up?
As she answered him, she hoped he couldn’t hear the disappointment in her voice. ‘No problem. Thanks for the help.’
As his attention was drawn back to the conversation he was having, she slipped into her car, tugging her seatbelt on before she pulled away. She gripped the steering wheel as tight as she could as she made her way into Meadowfield and towards her little cottage.
Just before she turned the corner, she glanced in her rear-view mirror.
He was still on the phone. She had so many questions.
So much she wanted to ask him, but she had to admit, there was a little part of her that was grateful to whoever had made that phone call.
Even after all this time, she wasn’t one hundred per cent sure she really wanted to know the truth about why he chose his new life in America rather than her.
What if she didn’t like what he told her?