Chapter 11
The mild sense of panic that had set in when she’d still not received word by Friday night had blown up into full-scale disappointment when Saturday dawned, still with no word.
How could Ethan just ghost her? Especially when Jason and Katie were in touch so often it seemed like they were joined at the hip?
Which part of her suspected Jason would like to be, given his messages that Katie read to her that seemed full of innuendo.
Or was that just her overprotective streak at work again, and she was seeing things that weren’t there?
She glanced at Katie as she exited the car at the train station. “Be safe!”
Katie rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath, which Ellie pretended not to hear. Instead, she smiled and waved like she was glad Katie would be spending time with a man she didn’t trust.
She couldn’t afford to show her real feelings anymore, not when that was a guaranteed offence waiting to happen.
Instead, she’d have to pray that God would keep her reckless sister safe, even if part of her wanted to catch the same train and stand guard and watch from afar.
But that was hardly trusting God. And besides, there was still a thin tendril of hope that a miracle might occur and Ethan would still come.
In her latest message, she’d sent him the Silver Teapot’s address, and even her phone number.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and all that.
And it was quite possible that he’d simply been swamped with work this week and had been working late and hadn’t had a chance to call her.
Or maybe he’d had an accident and was lying in a coma somewhere, unable to call her.
Or maybe he’d decided she was the next best thing to a weekend fling, and he didn’t want to call her.
No. Her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as she steered back onto the main street. It wasn’t that. She wouldn’t think like that. Defeatist talk wasn’t her.
But lately she’d been remembering the way his friend—had he said brother-in-law?
—had looked at her, like he was wondering why a man like Ethan was with a woman like her.
Like he’d never met anyone who had dyed their hair before.
Like she didn’t fit with his personal aesthetic of Burberry and Calvin Klein.
Well, she wasn’t that kind of girl. She shopped at op shops for clothes that had been stitched in a time before disposable fashion was a thing.
Clothing with interesting fabrics and designs that might give a bit of a Boho hippie vibe but she felt comfortable in, even if some of Nicola’s high-brow clients might raise their eyebrows or sneer.
Was that what Ethan thought? That she didn’t fit in his world?
No. That was silly talk. They had gotten on so well precisely because they did match in so many ways. But … but … Ethan couldn’t have just been pretending. Could he?
She returned to the café, parked in the staff parking spot, and went in the back entrance, collecting her apron on the way.
“Hey, Ellie.” Annabelle, their redheaded cousin, smiled.
God bless the peacemakers of the world. People like Annabelle, who had stepped in for Katie today, happy to supplement her nursing work at a nearby nursing home by doing occasional shifts at The Silver Teapot.
Ellie and Annabelle worked well together, but then Annabelle was like that, flexible, willing to go with the flow, nothing too much trouble.
She never displayed the angst of feeling like things weren’t happening as they should.
Ellie gathered her supplies, then started decorating iced mini cupcakes for a children’s birthday party booked at ten.
“So, a little birdie told me that you were expecting a special guest today.”
“Let me guess: a birdie named Katie.”
“Actually, it was a birdie named Aunty Liz.”
Of course it was. She rolled her eyes at her cousin, who laughed and continued her own work of cutting out scones.
Thank God for one family member who seemed to understand her. Annabelle was quiet too but often surprised others with her spunky teasing and sense of humour. Ellie was glad she now lived nearby.
Dad’s brother lived on a farm near Jemora, a small town four hours west. Annabelle, the eldest of two sisters, had moved to the Highlands recently for work.
There were days when Ellie wanted to ask if Annabelle’s share house had a spare room, as sometimes it felt easier to have the quiet life rather than her mother’s and sister’s constant drama.
But then, the board she was expected to pay at home was a lot cheaper, and she did love her family, so it hadn’t come to that yet.
Not when the ultimate goal was to move to Sydney and leave this small town behind.
“So, what’s his name?”
She shrugged, dropping tiny edible silver balls onto the pink frosting. “Ethan. I’m supposed to do a tea demonstration. But I don’t know if he is even going to come. He hasn’t replied to me all week. Well, not since Monday.”
“Maybe he’s had an accident.”
“That’s what I wondered too. I’m trying to be positive, but I can’t help but feel something has happened.”
“Well, there’s no point worrying. If Ethan appears, he appears. If he doesn’t, that’s his loss.”
“Right?”
Annabelle laughed. “That’s more like it. Now let’s get these pastries out. Your dad has been baking up a storm.”
It was good to have the distraction, to have Annabelle’s witty comments and remarks.
She shared a little about her week, about the highs and lows of working with the elderly.
She never mentioned names, of course, but Ellie could appreciate the challenges of working with people who were nearing the end of life.
And while the facility where Annabelle worked wasn’t Christian, it still gave opportunity for Annabelle to share the hope and peace of Jesus.
“I’m just so grateful that they let me do that in this role,” Annabelle said later as they washed up some of the delicate crockery. “There are some residents who never receive visitors, and I know they are lonely.”
“They’re blessed to have you working there.”
“I hope so. I don’t mind admitting that I pray each day that God would use me as He sees fit.”
Ellie sighed. “I wish my job had more of a purpose to it like that. Sometimes I feel like all I’m doing is pandering to rich people, and it doesn’t feel very fulfilling.”
“What would you like to do if you could do anything at all?”
See, this was why Ellie liked Annabelle. She made her think beyond her normal, to imagine possibilities. “I think I’d like to work at a not-for-profit organisation so I know that my work is benefitting others and making a difference in the world.”
“I think any kind of work we do can make a difference in the world,” Annabelle said thoughtfully. “It’s not always about the work but our impact on the people we work with that can truly make a difference.”
Ellie bit her lip. There had been all too many times lately when she had complained about the people she worked for.
Not Nicola, but the clients. And maybe there was some tiny amount of envy wrapped up in her feelings about rich people.
It would be nice to feel like she could afford the lifestyles of the rich and famous, like Emma-Jane had when she’d been swept up in the fabulousness of being billionaire’s son Eric Churchill’s girlfriend.
But then, Emma-Jane had soon come to realise that wealth and fame wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
She’d been very glad to step down from the spin cycle of movers and shakers and get grounded in reality after realising that her best friend forever, Jordan, was the real deal and only truly perfect man for her.
Maybe Ellie was similar and had simply allowed herself to get caught up in the whirl of art deco–powered glamour and refused to see what was real.
Far from being sensible, perhaps Ellie needed to remove her blinkers—about men, clients, and all manner of things.
“I think God can use us anywhere,” Annabelle continued. “It’s just up to us whether or not we want to be used.”
“Ouch. Wow. Are you sure you have to work here today?”
Annabelle laughed. “Sorry. Just preaching to myself here.”
“Please. What do you need to preach to yourself about?”
Annabelle shrugged. “Did I ever tell you about this Navy guy I met?”
“No, you certainly did not. Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Because there’s nothing to tell, really. I met him in Jemora years ago and thought we hit it off, and then he ghosted me.”
Just like Ethan had, apparently. Still, she wouldn’t make this about herself right now. “So …?”
“So now I’m wondering if there’s anybody out there for me or if I’m destined to remain single forever. And if so, well, it’s not quite the hopeless predicament some Austen adaptations might try to make out. I might be twenty-seven, but I’m not frightened.”
Ellie snorted. “It’s a good thing Emma-Jane isn’t here. She hates that version.”
“It’s a shame more people don’t know the books to be able to tell what is Austen authentic and what is a screenwriter’s fantasy.”
“Mrs. Darcy.”
They both snickered at the well-known scene at the end of a certain adaptation that did not meet the Bennett family’s idea of accuracy.
“Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is that if I’m not going to marry, then God surely has a different purpose for me, and I’m trying my best to let go of what I thought my life might look like and let God do what He wants to do.”
“Good advice.” At Annabelle’s sceptical look, she hurried to add, “No, really, I appreciate hearing that. I think I actually needed to hear that. So thank you.”
Her cousin released the plug from the sink and dried her hands on the towel hanging below the bench. “Regardless of whether your Ethan shows up today or not, you can trust God with your future.”
“Why is that so much easier to say than do?” Ellie murmured.