Chapter Seven
“Working Girl”
Nicki bit her lip. ‘He wasn’t very gallant, said you were so altered, he barely recognised you.
’ Walking over, she gave Ellie a fierce hug.
‘I’m sorry. Truly. If it’s any consolation, you look way better, as though you’ve found yourself.
That may be what he meant. Come on. We need to make up the beds. ’
Ellie’s palpitating heart calmed as she followed Nicki upstairs. It hardly mattered, and at least she now knew for a fact, Will had not forgotten her.
Nicki chattered on as they put clean sheets on the beds, trying to change the mood.
‘I suppose it makes sense he wants somewhere away from prying eyes. Fowey is much bigger, hugely popular and draws loads of emmets come springtime. Kate says he stayed at the hotel here a few months back with a researcher. I suppose they were scouting out the locations and so on. Not that I ever saw him.’ She grinned over her shoulder as they entered the boys’ bunk room.
‘Didn’t get chance to do his hair or give him a manicure, sadly. ’
Despite her misgivings, Ellie laughed, grabbing Jason’s pillow to give it a pummel. ‘Well, if you ever do, do not mention my name again.’
As they finished the housework, Ellie tried to relegate thoughts of Will to the back of her mind, something she’d become proficient at over the years. Didn’t his dismissive attitude towards her deliver the closure she needed?
If only…
Ellie had become familiar with rough nights lately, but this time she knew it was self-inflicted.
Unhelpfully, the film that launched Will’s global success – released about eighteen months after they’d split – was available to stream online, as was one of his massively popular TV series.
Although she’d watched the latter avidly the first time, she’d never revisited it until now and ended up bingeing several episodes of the series too before falling into bed with a pounding head and a heart once again in shreds.
Waking to find her cheeks damp and her mood low, it hadn’t helped on opening the blinds to see a heavy grey sky and equally steely stretch of water outside the window.
Once she’d taken Liam and Jason to school and picked up a coffee, however, Ellie felt more herself, returning to Westerleigh determined to immerse herself in work. A heartwarming scene greeted her as she pushed open the door to the kitchen.
Oliver had a wriggling Emma tucked firmly under one arm, and a giggling Bertie under the other. Anna was busy at the island, cutting out dough shapes of some sort.
‘Hey!’ She beckoned Ellie over as Oliver headed out to the hall with his precious cargo. ‘Come and join me. I’m making biscuits for the school sale on Saturday.’
Once the biscuits were in the oven, Anna led Ellie over to the sofas. There was an open laptop on the coffee table, next to a low vase of autumn foliage, a pot of baby wipes and a teething ring.
Scooping up the MacBook, Anna tucked her legs up on the sofa and balanced it on her lap. ‘Is it insensitive of me to mention the documentary?’
Ellie clasped her hands in her lap, willing her midriff not to dive like a seagull after fish. ‘Of course not. There’s no escaping it, is there?’
‘I suppose not. The cove is normally a restful place. It saddens me to see you stressed by being here.’
Ellie waved a dismissive hand. ‘I’m good. Honestly. So, what’s the news taking the village by storm today?’
‘The production team are reaching out to locals through the community Facebook group. There’s a mention of extras and who to contact. Seems they want all ages.’
‘Are you thinking of putting Emma and Bertie forward?’
Anna laughed as she closed the laptop. ‘I don’t think Oliver would approve. You know they’ve roped Matty in to compose the music? He’s in his element. They’ve also asked if there are any local photographers.’ Anna sat up suddenly. ‘Hey, why don’t you—’
Ellie’s expression was enough to halt the suggestion.
‘Sorry,’ Anna exclaimed, a hand to her mouth. ‘I was thinking of you needing to compensate for lost business, but it was thoughtless of me.’
‘You don’t have to tread on eggshells around me,’ she reassured Anna, who seemed truly mortified. ‘It’s messing with me a bit, but in reality, nothing’s changed. We split up a long time ago.’
Ellie welcomed the return of Oliver with the newly changed twins, taking Emma onto her lap as Anna received Bertie from her husband.
‘Are you off to work?’
Oliver had a Tardis-sized den at the top of the garden where he focused on his historical writing projects and managed his local property endeavour, the Seymour Trust.
‘Bella’s phoning shortly.’
Ellie’s ears pricked up. ‘Is she coming back? I haven’t seen her in ages.’
‘We hope so,’ Anna said, bouncing Bertie up and down on her lap. ‘Oliver’s a lot less stressed when she’s around. Bella’s like his comforter.’
With a laugh, Ellie picked up a picture book from the coffee table and settled back, ready to point out the images to Emma. ‘She was a bit of a firebrand. I’m intrigued to see this other side of her.’
‘She has been prone to impulsivity in the past,’ Oliver admitted as he dropped a kiss on his wife’s cheek and headed for the boot room door, and Anna turned to Ellie to relate what had happened the previous year when Bella had re-encountered Alex Tremayne in the cove.
Ellie’s most ongoing worry, once she’d managed to wrestle thoughts of Will into a suitably watertight place, continued to be that of income – or rather, her current lack of it.
Although she didn’t doubt for a minute the production would pay well for any freelance work, especially as it was for a streaming company, the risk that it might mean working in tandem with Will was sufficient to make it a no-go.
Ellie also wasn’t blind to the fact he’d probably refuse to employ her anyway, and she didn’t need any further rejection from him.
The proposed fortnight in Polkerran Point was no longer a simple break. Yes, Ellie was heading back to Oxfordshire at the weekend, but that was only to cover a wedding. There’d be no resumption of normal life.
She’d put a card in the window of the Spar, for both the photography business and her artwork, and hadn’t held out much hope, but on the Thursday – the day before leaving for home – she took a call from a man called Marcus, who ran a glamping site up on Bodmin Moor.
The business had taken off beyond his dreams, and he’d now acquired a field above Polkerran which was being developed with a view to offering shepherd huts by next spring.
He realised he needed to get some business cards and flyers made as he was heading up to a trade fair in London in November.
Would Ellie be interested in coming up with a design for him?
It would only be a one-off job, but Ellie grasped the opportunity, scribbling down details. It was also out of the village centre, which meant less chance of running into Will.
They agreed to meet in Karma for an informal chat, and Ellie popped some examples of her work into the leather portfolio she never travelled without, wondering if she’d recognise Marcus from his voice.
‘Idiot,’ she admonished.
As it happened, there was only one person in the coffee house when she arrived, and as he greeted her the moment she opened the door, she assumed she must look like an Ellie.
‘The portfolio.’ Marcus gestured at the large, flat bag on her shoulder. ‘Gave you away.’
Ellie grinned. ‘Occupational hazard.’
She studied Marcus covertly as he ordered coffee at the counter.
He was of average height, with dark-blond hair and dressed for life in the country, wearing the uniform of Hunter wellies, a body-warmer and checked brush-cotton shirt.
Marcus had thin, angular features, and a friendly expression which Ellie found encouraging.
‘Here we go. Sugar?’ He held out the pot, but Ellie shook her head.
‘I’m good, thanks.’
A small silence settled on them as he took the seat opposite. Their circular table was in one of the windows, and Ellie took a few sips of the hot liquid, meeting Marcus’s friendly look with a smile.
‘Sorry. I love coffee when it’s piping hot.’
‘Me too.’
Marcus explained how, with the glamping site’s success, he’d sought another opportunity, investing in the field above the cove when Tremayne Estates put it up for sale.
‘I also saw your card for the photography and had a quick look at your website. I don’t suppose you could take some for mine? It’s a bit of a mess up at the site right now, though. They’ve not long ago finished the groundworks.’
‘Could I come and see it? It would give me a better feel.’
As Ellie had no physical photos to hand, she showed him some on her phone from previous shoots. Marcus asked insightful questions, taking the time to really look at everything, and Ellie’s heart, which had felt sore and battered, eased a little at his obvious admiration for her talent.
It was another hour and an additional coffee later when they both emerged onto the harbourfront, Ellie with the portfolio once more tucked under her arm and Marcus donning a cap as a few drops of rain began to fall.
They shook hands beside his mud-spattered 4x4, agreeing Ellie would visit the following day, and she waved him off before turning away.
Coming along the front, however, was a black sporty-looking Range Rover, and it slowed as it drew level with her.
Ellie swallowed hard as her eyes met those of Will behind the wheel.
There was a figure over in the passenger seat – a woman with long black hair, possibly the one she’d seen with him and Alex in the pub – but as her gaze returned to Will, he blanked Ellie, the car shooting along to take the turn towards the hill leading to the top of the village.
Heart hammering and throat threatening to choke her, Ellie hurried towards the bridge and the sanctuary of Westerleigh.
The sooner she lost herself in work, the better.
Feeling a little more optimistic after meeting with Marcus, Ellie continued with her routine, making sure Liam and Jason got to and from school, along with any after-school clubs, feeding them if Nicki was on a late shift and working hard on the Christmas collection of card packs and – for the first time – a calendar.
She’d need to move swiftly to catch the market.
Both Anna and Nicki had given her a list of local emporiums, farm shops and craft outlets that might be interested in stocking them, and with the Christmas markets just a few months away, it took up most of her time.
Ellie also skimmed through the photos of Nicki. The soft evening light had highlighted her cousin’s natural prettiness, the background faded out, though clearly Polkerran. Delighted with having captured exactly what she’d wanted, Ellie made a few reels ready to run once she’d shown them to Nicki.
After popping down to the post office late one morning, Ellie stopped by the harbour wall for a moment.
A chill wind swept in from the sea, bringing with it a low mist that didn’t look as though it would lift before nightfall, and she shivered, thankful she’d thought to wear a thicker scarf.
Despite the conditions, however, she was pleased she’d slung the Canon camera round her neck, and she took some atmospheric shots before realising her hands were freezing.
She’d have a cup of something warming and whatever treat was on offer before heading back.
Eschewing Karma, which looked full of yummy mummies and their offspring, the high-end buggies lined up like a row of flashy cars in a showroom, Ellie skirted down a narrow lane to where she’d found a small, old-fashioned tea shop on one of her walks.
The windows were steamed up, but a welcoming glow emanated from the Georgian-style bow windows, and Ellie pushed open the door, delighted by the tinkling of a brass bell above it.
There was a lady behind the counter sporting a spotted apron, busy placing a top on an earthenware teapot, but she looked up as Ellie closed the door.
‘Come on in, my lovely. ’Tis a raw one.’
She waved her hand at an empty table by the window, and Ellie was soon studiously viewing the menu card.
The apron-clad lady ferried her laden tray to a table at the back of the cosy room, which housed four people dressed for walking.
‘Well now, aren’t you a proper maid?’ she addressed Ellie as she came to stand by her table.
Blushing, Ellie wasn’t sure what to say, so she dipped her head. ‘Please could I have a pot of tea and a toasted teacake?’
‘Of course, my lovely. Mek yerself comfy. Just prepping a tekkaway but will be on it dreckly.’
Fishing out her phone, Ellie skimmed through her emails, then sent a message to her mum, who was keeping an eye on the flat.
A half-hour later, happily fed, Ellie thanked the lady – busy popping the takeaway order into a large brown bag – and headed out the door, but as she reached the corner where the narrow lane joined the front, a figure came swiftly round it, his attention on his phone.
There was no way to avoid a collision, and Ellie heard the clatter of something hitting the ground as a pair of strong arms grasped hers, her nose pressed up against a broad chest and the Canon digging into her middle.