Chapter Twenty-One
“The Sound of Music”
Ellie eyed the grey skies on Saturday with a dubious eye. It wasn’t a day for walking, with mist hovering over the hills surrounding the cove, shrouding the shedding trees with a ghostly mantle. The sea heaved in a seething dull mass between Westerleigh and Harbourwatch.
Dougal, however, had other ideas, and Ellie bent down to pat him as he circled round her legs then trotted pointedly over to the boot room door.
‘Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’ve not forgotten my duties.’
She gave Heathcliff a fuss, where she lay curled up in her usual place on the window seat and, five minutes later, warmly dressed in her favourite cord skirt and a thick burgundy jumper under a quilted gilet, Ellie plonked a knitted beret on her head and followed Dougal out onto the lane.
‘What’s it to be today? Up to the cliff path? A run on the beach? Or the grassy park?’ She waved a hand across the water to the other side of the cove.
Tugging on the lead, Dougal veered to the right and, laughing, Ellie followed.
‘The beach it is, then.’
After a good run, Ellie went back down the hill, but remembering she was low on milk, headed into the village to pick some up, bumping into Old Patrick on the corner of the lane leading up to the village hall.
‘Alright, my lover?’ he asked, bending down to pat Dougal.
‘All good, thank you. And you, Pat?’
‘Aye, nay so bad.’ He straightened with a groan, putting a hand to his back, then pointed at a blackboard propped against the wall advertising a coffee and cake morning. ‘Thought I’d pop along. T’will be full of they ole coffin dodgers, mind.’
Once back at the cottage, with Dougal settled in his basket by the hearth and Heathcliff fed and preening on the window seat, Ellie entered the orangery, surveying her efforts from earlier.
‘Could be worse,’ she whispered, heading upstairs to change. A weak shaft of sunlight had pierced the cloud above the sea and a gold ripple spread across the water. Ellie glanced at her watch. Lunchtime.
She set her phone to play the radio from her portable speaker, turning it up so she could hear it in the kitchen, humming as she boiled the kettle and wishing her heart would accept the reality of her prosaic life and stop leaping around as though something exciting could happen at any minute.
Sitting beside the now-sleeping Heathcliff as she debated between a sandwich or a jacket potato, Ellie stroked the soft, black fur. Then a favourite tune came on, and Ellie returned to the kitchen, singing under her breath as she inspected the bread bin, then opened the fridge.
Once her plate was laden, she turned to head back to the window seat, still carolling along to the music, only to fetch up short opposite the door to the boot room as it swung open to reveal Will.
Heat flooding her skin, Ellie’s mood sank like an anchor plunging into the watery depths of the harbour as she placed the plate on the island.
‘Don’t you know it’s polite to knock first?’
‘I did. You were making such a racket you didn’t hear me.’
Rude.
Regardless of the full mug of tea on the table, Ellie busied herself with the coffee machine, topping up the water and retrieving the bag of beans. She’d be blowed if she’d offer him one.
‘Why are you here?’ It was a lot easier addressing the beans as they tumbled into the container, the heady aroma of coffee in the air, than looking at Will.
His dark hair was less smooth than usual, no doubt due to the mist which continued to cling to the land.
But was it… had there been a smile tugging at that firm mouth when she’d first spotted him in the open doorway?
‘I would have thought that was obvious. I may be an animal lover, but I’m not given to paying social calls on them.’
This was a social call? On her ? Fine words, but the tone implied the contrary.
Ellie risked a look over her shoulder. Despite his claim, Will had walked over to crouch down by Dougal’s basket, giving him a good rub. The traitorous hound writhed in ecstasy as Will’s hand firmly stroked his belly, and Ellie fiercely shut down her mind.
Don’t go there. Whatever you do.
Then, Will straightened and faced her. ‘I wanted to—’
Ellie hit the espresso symbol, quickly remembering to shove a cup under the nozzle, and the machine whirred into action, noisily grinding the beans. Will pressed his lips together, eyes flashing.
She stirred the cup vigorously when the machine stopped pouring – a pointless exercise when it was nothing but coffee – but as Will started to speak again, she decided a double would be rather nice and hit the symbol again.
Turning around, she folded her arms, meeting his frustrated gaze as the machine did its thing. Then, clutching a drink she didn’t even want, Ellie leaned against the island, chin raised and ready for battle.
‘Done now?’
Ellie took a sip of espresso – which she hated – clamping her jaws tight so as not to indicate how much she disliked the bitter taste.
‘I wanted to ask you something. About that day on the beach.’ He waved a vague hand, which she assumed summed up their encounter. ‘You said something that made no sense.’
Just the one thing? That must be a record for me.
‘It all seemed straightforward,’ Ellie countered. ‘The truth’s like that, you know.’
Will winced, and Ellie’s heart skipped hopefully. Had he had time to think, then?
‘Look, can we sit down?’ He ran a hand round the back of his neck. ‘Something’s bugging me.’
Willingly abandoning the espresso, Ellie gestured towards the sitting room, taking a seat on the sofa. Will tossed his coat onto the opposite one before settling into Oliver’s generously proportioned armchair.
Silence spun through the air for a moment, the only sounds being a faint snore from Dougal and the muted call of seabirds from the orangery, where Ellie had opened a window. Their eyes met and held, but this time one held curiosity and the other confusion.
‘It’s a long time since we… talked. Properly.’
Unsure what to say, Ellie opted for saying nothing. After all, the ball was in Will’s court right now.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fixing her with a keen look. Ellie had no clue where this was going, but a more open Will, with no negativity fizzing in the air between them was so welcome, she’d have sat in silence for however long it took for him to get to the point.
His expectant look became a frown.
‘Oh, sorry.’ This time, Ellie’s brow furrowed. ‘Er, what did you say?’
‘You said something about sending an email, but it never happened.’
So he keeps saying…
Despite her recent doubts, Ellie levelled her shoulders. ‘Yes, it did. And it was read. I told you.’ Will held her gaze steadily and she tried – oh so hard – not to want him. ‘And if I didn’t send it, prove it.’
Will got to his feet. ‘Easily done. You never had my email address. We only ever used message apps or spoke on the phone.’
Ellie rose to face him. ‘Oh, but I did. Those tickets, remember? For the beer festival over in Looe? You asked me to send them to you in case my phone was dead.’
It was galling to realise she was no better at charging her phone than she had been all those years ago, but satisfaction came from the stunned expression on Will’s face.
‘I’d forgotten.’
‘Clearly.’ An idea popped into Ellie’s head. ‘Do you still use it, that email account? What was the address again?’
Will’s dark eyes flashed. ‘Nice try.’ He glared at Ellie. ‘I never heard from you, and I don’t understand why you keep saying it. You were never a liar. Besides, there’s no credit in changing your mind when I’d found success.’
‘I agree,’ Ellie stated firmly. ‘But I realised my mistake about two hours after you left, and wrote to you the following morning. Get your facts right, Will.’
Will blanched. ‘That’s not possible.’
Ellie merely raised her chin, staring him out until he straightened his shoulders, the distrust returning to his features.
‘So what was in it, this supposed email? What was its point?’
‘I—’
Ellie faltered. It was impossible to recall every detail of the War-and-Peace-length outpouring, but even if he’d skimmed it, it didn’t take an idiot to get the gist… assuming she had sent it…
‘I told you I regretted everything. Immediately. That my parents’ words had given me pause.
Whether it was the right advice or not, my heart won out over my head.
When the “read receipt” arrived, I waited.
Minute after minute, hour after hour, constantly refreshing my inbox.
Then days, and soon weeks, had passed, but nothing came.
In the end, I came up to London, called at your flat, but I was told you’d already gone abroad.
And,’ despite the many years that had passed, Ellie’s voice wobbled, ‘and that you’d got someone else. ’
Will’s eyes flashed, his whole air disbelieving. She really ought to take a step back, but would that look like acquiescing? Giving in? Admitting defeat?
She released a shaky breath. They were so close, Will’s cologne was all around her in an invisible embrace, though his arms remained rigidly by his side, as did hers.
She wasn’t mistaken, was she? There was sadness in his gaze, albeit briefly before it once again assumed the hardness she’d become familiar with.
Unable to face his stoicism any more, Ellie spun towards the orangery.
‘Wait.’
She stiffened.
‘This is ridiculous. We’re just going round in circles. I don’t understand why—’
‘Yoo hoo!’
Cheeks flushed at the sudden interruption, Ellie stepped away from Will, then followed his frustrated gaze to the boot room door, through which came the usual crowd.
‘I’d better go.’
He grabbed his coat and then he was gone, and all that was left was the radio blaring out a song Ellie barely heard and the low mutter of speculation as the locals settled around the table.