Chapter Sixteen
“Pulp Fiction”
‘Why have I done this to myself,’ Ellie muttered as she burrowed through the mess on the table the following day. ‘Where are you?’
She looked around. When had she last had her phone?
Ellie shot into the house, tying her hair out of the way and pulling the camera straps over her head.
The cottage still had a landline, a throwback to its bed and breakfast days, and she hurried down the hallway to grab the handset, dialling her own number.
‘There you are,’ she exclaimed with relief as a pile of blank greetings cards began to ring. ‘Damn, only two bars of battery.’
Despite her obsession with keeping her camera batteries fully charged, Ellie had never quite mastered the same elsewhere. Phones, iPads, laptops, toothbrushes… all fell victim from time to time.
Ellie fled out of the boot room and was soon dashing along hedge-bound lanes in her car, a chorus of russet leaves cascading in the air behind Fifi as they sped past. Thankfully, the weather had delivered a beautiful early autumn day, with wistful blue skies dusted with tendrils of fine cloud and a gentle breeze.
Once she reached the waterside at Polwelyn, she was relieved to find the small car park full of people waiting for her.
It took her a few minutes to set up on the grassy play area beside the creek, but then the mini-sessions began, fifteen minutes each, three per hour, and taking a deep breath, Ellie turned around, camera at the ready, to welcome the first people.
‘Hi,’ Ellie exclaimed warmly as one of the mums she recognised from the school drop-off came up, shepherding a little boy.
‘This is Rupert,’ the lady explained. ‘He’s a bit nervous, aren’t you darling?’
Rupert didn’t respond, merely ducking behind his mother’s coat.
‘That’s okay.’ Ellie settled back in her folding chair. ‘We can just chat for a bit.’
Ellie’s patience and gentle voice encouraged Rupert sufficiently for him to settle beside his mum on a bench.
As she rambled on about the upcoming scarecrow festival, Ellie managed to capture some adorable photos of the little boy, both solo and looking up at his mum as he whispered something to her.
The next few sessions were a bit livelier, with parents who wanted active shots of their children running across the lawn or jumping from the bottom of the slide, arms spread out to catch the air, and the morning sped by.
Taking a slug of water, Ellie checked her phone. Barely alive. She was vaguely aware of people on the periphery of her vision, walking dogs and parking up to lunch at the quaint pub overlooking the creek.
Another couple of hours passed, with Ellie pleased with what she could see on her screen. She changed the camera battery again, trying not to think about how hungry she was as she paused to take another swig of water.
One of her bookings hadn’t turned up, and Ellie grabbed the moment to pick up the Fuji, soon lost in the imagery as she took shot after shot of the incoming tide, slowly lifting the small boats resting on their sides, as though they enjoyed a moment’s kip before bobbing back into action.
A sound behind Ellie made her start, and she lowered the Fuji and glanced over her shoulder as she capped the lens.
‘Oh!’
Staring at Will, she couldn’t think of another word. He said nothing, hat low over his eyes, merely held out a brown paper bag.
Ellie attempted to clear her throat. ‘I— for me?’
Will stepped forward and took her hand, placing the bag in it before turning away.
‘Wait!’
He stopped, and she eyed his rigid shoulders, her mind fizzing with confusion, skin tingling from the unanticipated touch.
Slowly, Will moved round to face her.
‘What?’
Ellie gave the bag a hopeful squeeze, then peered inside at the roll, from which thick slices of ham and tomato protruded. An old favourite.
‘You… you brought me lunch? How did you know I’d be here?’
An impatient sigh emanated from Will as he whipped off his hat and ran a hand through his thick hair.
‘Haven’t you been advertising your shoot?’
Yes. Of course I have.
‘I met someone for lunch,’ he gestured back towards the pub. ‘You didn’t look as though you were going to get a break.’
Will’s tone was begrudging, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d done what he had, and if Ellie hadn’t been quite so hungry, she might have thrust it back at him.
‘How… kind.’
‘It’s nothing,’ Will bit out, replacing the hat. ‘They were giving them away.’
With that, he left, and Ellie watched him go, a myriad of thoughts churning through her head, but a protesting growl from her tummy persuaded her to tuck into the surprise offering.
It didn’t take long to consume, but as she realised the roll had been spread with mustard, not butter, the puzzlement intensified.
Giving them away, were they? Funny how they knew she preferred mustard with ham over butter. Or at least, funny someone remembered it, but couldn’t quite manage to recall their special beach…
The arrival of her next booking, a group of four women celebrating one of the group’s fiftieth, put paid to any further speculation.
It was a hilarious shoot, and Ellie half-wished it could have lasted longer, the women so enthusiastic, posing on the roundabout, see-saw and swings and all rushing over to peer over her shoulder to have a quick look at the images.
‘We come down every year at this time,’ one of them said as they made to leave. ‘We love it when it’s quiet.’
With the final session was over, Ellie safely secured all her equipment in her bag and packed up for the day, trying not to think about the anomaly of Will and his behaviour.
Once up in her room, Ellie sat cross-legged against the pillows, laptop open as she downloaded the photos.
When the battery was on its last legs, she headed down to the orangery to plug it in next to the already-charging camera batteries, then viewed a message on her phone.
Marcus.
Sorry, Ellie, but can you spare time for a coffee? Need to talk to
you. Bit delicate, would rather not do it on the phone.
Sinking onto the sofa in the sitting room, Ellie’s mouth curved upwards as she tapped a brief reply, agreeing to meet him for drinks the following week.
She might be lacking in company generally, but she and Marcus had fallen into one of those swift friendships that happen out of the blue sometimes and then endure forever.
With a sigh, Ellie pushed up off the sofa and walked over to the kitchen. Her own heart seemed impervious to anything else, as though having once been pierced by love, it wasn’t prepared to open up again.
Nicki and the boys were due home later on the Friday, with Ellie’s aunt and uncle staying up at the Point Hotel until they had to return home to start work again, and Ellie passed the morning walking Dougal and spending far too much time staring out to sea, consumed by the memory of meeting Will again on their beach.
Did he truly not remember? Or was he simply trying to hurt her? But why, after all this time? If Will was over her, if he’d relegated her to the past, why did he even care? And even more contradictory, what had driven him to bring her lunch at the shoot?
Ellie hadn’t a clue what drove Will’s behaviour. It would be ridiculous for him to still be resentful of her ending the engagement when he’d roundly refused her efforts to reconcile… unless he was telling the truth and never saw the email? But how could that be?
‘Pointless,’ Ellie exclaimed in frustration as her phone rang. ‘There is no answer. Stop damn speculating.’
Nicki was full of excitement. Hamish had started to experience sporadic pins and needles in his legs, which had given them all a burst of hope. If it continued, they would instigate an increased programme of rehabilitative therapy to help him regain muscle control.
Inspired by the positive news, Ellie made the most of the peace of Westerleigh to finish the designs for the calendar, adding pearly ink dots to several cards, and stacking them to dry so they’d be ready to be made up into packs later.
She then opened the laptop to update some images on her socials, only to find a negative comment about her designs on both Instagram and Facebook.
Aside from the hurt, Ellie was puzzled, not recognising the names as existing customers. Even more oddly, when she went onto the respective profiles, the accounts had no followers, and the profile image in both cases was an avatar.
Was she being trolled? But why, and by whom?
Disgruntled and not a little saddened, Ellie called to Dougal and marched into the boot room. Time to blow away some cobwebs.
Eschewing the cliff path, Ellie and Dougal headed into the village and up to the field where dogs could be exercised and socialise with others. Dusk was falling by the time they came back down into the centre of town, and Ellie toyed with picking up a takeaway.
Her diet had not been very healthy lately. It would be a relief when Anna was back and putting tempting but better-balanced meals on the table!
At the bottom of the hill, the lane split, branching off towards both the church and down to the front, and Ellie’s brow furrowed as she saw a man huddled into a doorway near the corner.
She threw him a piercing glance as she passed.
He had his head ducked, clutching something to his front, and if she was not mistaken, it was a camera.
As she emerged onto the street bordering the harbour, however, she fetched up short, Dougal at her feet.
Alex was back in town, and stood outside the bistro talking to Bella, who’d appeared from who knew where, and there, lurking behind his friend, was Will, the habitual hat pulled low over his eyes.
Unwilling to interrupt, and certain Will wouldn’t appreciate her presence, Ellie made to cross over, but Bella looked round, relief flooding her features.
‘Ellie, wait!’
She could detect the uneasiness in her friend’s eyes as she strode towards her.
‘When did you get back, Bells? Are you okay?’
‘Yes, just stay with me, promise?’
Thoroughly muddled by this uncharacteristic behaviour, Ellie nodded. ‘Of course.’
Bella linked arms with Ellie, and she cast a glance over at the men. To her surprise, Will’s gaze was fixed on her, and he made a movement, as though he intended to walk over, but Alex restrained him.
What was going on?
‘Come on,’ Bella urged, her pace increasing, and Ellie all but skipped to keep up as they hurried towards the bridge, Dougal trotting happily at her heels, as though being chased by Daphne du Maurier’s infamous flock of birds.
‘Are you going to tell me why we’re speeding like we’re competing in a 10k run?’ Ellie managed to blurt as they passed The Lugger.
‘There’s nothing to tell. I just don’t want to be around that man.’