Chapter Fifteen
“Match of the Day”
‘What are you doing here?’
The words were out before Ellie could think straight, and she wished them immediately unsaid – or, at the very least, that the wind would be so obliging as to whip them away across the water.
‘I could ask you the same thing,’ Will drawled.
No such luck, then.
Will had fetched up in front of her, and Ellie stared up at him. Where were the words now? Fine time to desert her…
A chilly breeze brushed between them, lifting the hair from Will’s forehead, and Ellie strove to conceal a shudder as he held her gaze.
The silence stretched, the dim sound of waves crashing against the rocks, of sea birds calling, faded. Then, typically, they both found their voices in unison.
‘I’m walking.’
‘I live near here.’
‘Yes, yes I know,’ Ellie spoke quickly, edging backwards. ‘Sorry.’
Will looked puzzled, the habitual inscrutability diminishing. ‘Why are you sorry?’
‘For intruding.’
‘Weren’t you looking for solitude too?’ He glanced around, then met Ellie’s gaze with an enquiring look. ‘This seems like the perfect place. It’s a bit off the beaten track. You did well to find it.’
Had he forgotten ? Ellie drew in a sharp breath.
Ouch. No, seriously. Ouch!
‘I’ve seen enough, thank you.’ She turned away, head bowed in embarrassment at the foolish hope that had so easily taken hold, that he was on the beach as she was, drawn there by memories of a happier time…
‘Liar.’
Excuse me?
Swinging back, Ellie glared at Will. ‘I am not!’
‘You just got here. I saw you arrive, so you can hardly have explored the beach.’
‘Well, that’s the sort of mistake that happens when you make assumptions,’ she retorted. ‘I said I’d seen enough, not that I’d seen everything.’
‘That changeable mind at play again, Ellie?’
It was the first time he’d used her name, and heat shot up Ellie’s neck and into her cheeks even as her eyes flashed at the comment.
‘Sometimes,’ she declared, raising her chin and looking Will firmly in his oh-so gorgeous eyes – damn him. ‘It’s the best way. You should try it some time.’
About to go, something took hold of Ellie, roared in her ears, and if it hadn’t been for the camera across her body, she swore she’d have squared up to him.
Except she wasn’t tall enough.
‘Maybe,’ she bit out, ‘if you’d replied to my olive branch, we could talk civilly. It would be nicer for everyone while we’re both stuck here.’
Will raised a mocking brow. ‘No branches came my way.’
‘It’s called an email,’ Ellie snapped. ‘I could hardly message; you’d blocked me on every app we ever used, including your phone number.’
Will glared at her. ‘I think I’d remember something like that arriving in my inbox.’
‘Well your inbox kindly sent me a “read receipt”, so perhaps you two can have a chat sometime?’
A sound escaped him, but Ellie had had enough, and she strode away as fast as she could without breaking into a very indecorous run.
Will’s incredulous laugh swept past her on the breeze, but she willed herself to keep moving.
All the heartache built up over the years, the unanswered questions of why , steamed through her head.
If he’d truly loved her, why hadn’t he responded to her overture?
And how could he have moved on so quickly?
‘Stupid beach,’ she muttered as she fled up the steps with little respect for the danger, or her breathing, which came in painful rasps as she reached the top.
The sands weren’t visible from the path, and – heart pounding painfully from the encounter – Ellie made her way back to Polkerran as fast as she could.
So much for thinking the day couldn’t get any worse!
The encounter with Will had shaken Ellie, not because of its rancour, but because of seeing him.
There. On their beach as though it was anywhere, not important.
He hadn’t been wearing that stupid hat, either, his face fully visible, as were those dark eyes that had once looked so lovingly into her own.
Keen to keep busy and desperate to shut out such traitorous thoughts – and unaided by her responsibilities at Little Cott and Westerleigh – Ellie started going down into the village each morning to photograph daily life in Polkerran Point.
After downloading the card onto her hard drive, she scanned through the images on the screen, delighted with how they were coming out.
The light was in her favour, with the low sun, the golden backdrop of the wooded hillsides around the cove and the steely reflection of the water. Viewing the images in black and white, she made a few tweaks, leaning back in her seat to better assess the results.
The locals were a generally friendly bunch, full of curiosity, but more than willing to let her click away.
She’d amassed striking, evocative images of fishermen mending nets, leaning against the weathered harbour wall, welders in the boat yard, working on a rusty hull, the WI ladies chuckling over something naughty during a talk at the village hall, an artist in the lane capturing the view, the tea shop lady – whom she now knew to be Morwenna – in her pinny, cleaning tables.
There was an endless stream of opportunities, and Ellie’s talent for capturing an essence, a flavour, a moment, would, she hoped, resonate with the locals.
Despite keeping busy, however, a niggling doubt kept resurfacing: why had Will claimed he’d never seen the email? It didn’t make any sense…
On the Wednesday morning, before the initial mini-session took place, Kate invited her over to Harbourwatch to catch up. Ellie looked around with interest as she followed her down a stone-paved hallway to a room she hadn’t seen before.
‘I thought this would be more comfortable than meeting at the manor. Arabella does her best to make you feel welcome…’ Kate hesitated. ‘She struggles sometimes to let go of a fascination with her superiority, but she’s definitely trying to embrace the change.’
They entered a wonderful space, and despite the grey day outside, the room was flooded with light from a vast glass roof, Victorian in design.
‘What a gorgeous room!’ Ellie exclaimed, surveying her surroundings with delight.
There were squashy leather sofas either side of a low table before the vast hearth and a well-polished wooden table in the centre supporting a vase of copper-coloured roses, berries and greenery.
A long side table against the far wall housed a smaller vase of similar blooms, as well as a glittering array of decanters and glasses.
‘It’s the hub of the house, to be honest, though there is a stunning drawing room and a beautiful panelled library-cum-office.’
Kate, however, didn’t stop there, heading for a door in the far wall, and Ellie cast a reluctant glance over her shoulder before they emerged into a large, square kitchen with an equally square scrubbed wood table at its centre.
‘I’ve just made coffee. Come and take a seat.’
Furnished with a mug, Ellie wrapped her hands around it as Kate opened her laptop.
‘The scarecrows are top of the agenda.’ She grinned at Ellie.
‘If only they knew they were so popular! Entries are looking solid. Phee has designed a map a bit like she does for the trails, so people pay a nominal fee for one to participate. The backup bad-weather plan is we move them inside the barn in the manor grounds.’
‘When will the map be available?’
‘It’s being printed now, but I’ll let you have a list of locations so you can get on with your side of things.’
Ellie listened intently as Kate ran through the groups already lined up to get involved, from the church, the village school, youth club, kayak club, rowing club and so on, all of which would mean her moving around the village, up and down the hills and visiting several places she’d not yet seen.
‘Even the WI are wanting in.’ Kate took a sip of coffee.
‘They come up with some hilarious offerings. The local press love it too. I’m hoping they’ll want some of your images.
’ She smiled encouragingly at Ellie, who felt warmed by her enthusiasm.
‘Make sure you charge; don’t give them away.
Oh, and we’ve printed flyers to pop through letterboxes.
Mollie and her mates have been roped in. At cost, of course. Teenagers!’
Kate rolled her eyes, but was clearly amused, and Ellie leaned forward as she swung the laptop round to show the list of locations.
‘I’ll whizz this over to you. What would be really great is if you could also get a couple of shots of the one we’ve put in the window of the tourist info place.’
Ellie tapped into her Notes app, welcoming the distraction as Kate’s requests continued. One she needed. Desperately.
‘It sounds very full on.’
Kate topped up their mugs. ‘Story of my life. Dev’s always telling me to simplify, but I love it!’
The conversation turned to the manor’s role in the festival, and once they’d finished their drinks, they walked along the lane into the village, Kate intent on calling on Arabella Tremayne.
As they approached the harbour, however, they paused outside Pen & Ink, just as a slightly familiar young woman emerged from the shop.
‘Hi, Chloe.’ Brow furrowing, Kate eyed her former work colleague. ‘What job did you decide to go for in the end?’
A flash of discomfort zipped across Chloe’s features, before she smiled hesitantly at Kate.
‘Something just came up, and I think it’s going to be ideal. For now, at least.’
‘I’m keen to drum up some business, too,’ Ellie said encouragingly, as Chloe seemed so nervous. ‘I’ve got cards in several places, so I’m hoping things come up too.’
They parted ways, with Kate continuing on her way to the manor, and Ellie turned back along the front just as Jean arrived, but she didn’t seem her usual smiling self.
‘Hey, you okay?’ Ellie fell into step with her as they approached the Spar.
There was no response at first, but then Jean nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, fine, thanks.’ The smile she summoned seemed a bit of an effort. ‘Just tracking down Mother.’
Jean gestured towards a pair of mobility scooters, but before they could enter the shop, the door swung open and both Mrs Lovelace and Mrs Clegg emerged, the former clutching a bulging crochet shopping bag, the latter wielding her sticks as she made her way over to where the scooters had been haphazardly parked.
When Jean and Ellie reached them, Mrs Lovelace looked up from stowing the bag in the appropriate compartment.
‘How be y’on, young’un? Missing that maid, Anna, I’ll be betting.’
‘I am indeed, Mrs Lovelace. It’s very lonely without the family there.’
‘Bless you. Word is, you’m sorted for work, my lovely.’
Ellie glanced at Jean, but her attention was on helping Mrs Clegg onto her scooter and storing the sticks.
‘S’right,’ Mrs Lovelace continued. ‘Old Patrick, he was down yonder, by the gate to yon manor, and all they staff comes pouring out. Forced to ejaculate, they was.’
‘The fire alarm went off,’ Jean elucidated as she straightened, and Ellie’s eyes twinkled.
‘So Pat stayed to natter, and according to Albert, the garden boy – been at the manor these sixty years, mind – he said word was, you’d been to see Lady T, and then—’ Mrs Lovelace broke off to fish a tissue from up her sleeve, noisily blowing her nose.
‘When Christie the Post called with a signed-for the day a-fore, she stopped for a while, and Albert said Lady T was talking to that housekeeper woman of hers—’
‘Norma,’ Jean supplied.
‘And said the mistress was right teasy about getting some photos done drekkly, and said it was good young Ellie was on board.’
Wow. Impressive.
Ellie conceded with a smile. ‘Yes, I’ve manged to secure a few photo assignments, which is lovely. Well, I’ll leave you to get on.’
Ellie continued on her way, but then a flashy red sports car came speeding along the street, pulling to a halt outside Tremayne Estates.
Was that Alex? Trying not to stare, Ellie walked slowly on, but then she looked back again.
It was Alex. He stood by the car now, parked on double yellows outside the Tremayne Estates office, talking to Chloe, who still clasped her bag of purchases to her chest.
Every sighting of Alex brought bad associations, and Ellie tried to push them away. She’d pop back to the Spar, get something simple for dinner.
By the time she came out, it had begun to rain in earnest. The wind wheeling in across a steely grey sea, whipping white caps into the entrance to the bay, made a brolly pointless. Pulling her scarf over her hair, Ellie shot along the front, head down, eager to get into the warm.
Then, she needed to find something to do. Keep busy. Anything to shut out the lingering hurt of those painful moments with Will on a beach he didn’t remember…