Ellie grinned, relaxed a little, looked at him and felt that swoop of bursting love and affection inside her, however unwelcome the sensation might be.
‘Not very. The point is that I would have told her immediately that this was all a load of nonsense, would have explained the situation on the phone, but I didn’t want to take any chances with her getting stressed out and worried.’
‘Maybe she’s not quite as delicate as you think.’
‘You could be right,’ Ellie mused, a little startled at that shrewd observation, which was one she had slowly begun to reach for herself. Yet she wasn’t certain enough of her mother’s strength to take chances. ‘Who knows? You might change your mind when you meet her.’
And, James thought,I am meeting her...
And he realised that he was looking forward to the prospect...
The skies were grey when the sleek sports car finally began the winding conclusion of the trip from London. They had driven through a series of towns and hamlets of varying sizes, passing silent churches and small open markets that were beginning to bustle into life as the day took shape.
Finally James pulled up in front of a small cottage that formed part of a cluster, all nestled with their own perfectly groomed gardens, tucked away in the maze of lanes and tiny tree-lined streets skittering in the foothills of the mighty Exmoor.
They had driven through a small village just big enough to house essentials for a small community, dominated by a picturesque church that sat squarely in a rectangle of perfectly manicured lawns, its doors wide open to welcome whoever wanted to enter.
This couldn’t have been more out of James’s comfort zone. A life of privilege and access to everything money could buy had never provided him with any insight into the life of someone living in a tiny rural community.
He took a few seconds to look at the house in front of him. It was small and cream with a path to the front door that resembled something a child might have drawn, winding and cobbled and bordered by a bank on either side of neat grass, which was in turn fringed by equally neat hedges.
James breathed in deeply and shot a look at the girl next to him as she hesitated briefly. On the spur of the moment, he grasped her hand and, somewhere inside him, was gratified when she didn’t let it go.
Ellie felt the warmth of his fingers curling into hers and didn’t think twice about curling her fingers right back into his, even after they left the car.
But she dropped her hand the second her mother opened the front door before the knocker had had time stop reverberating through the cottage.
‘Mum!’
‘Ellie! Darling!’
Angela Thompson was a small, thin woman with a face that would have been quite striking had it been plumper and less careworn. Her eyes were large and dark, her hair just touching her shoulders, as straight as her daughter’s but threaded with grey. She had the look of someone who had spent far too much time crying.
Just at the moment she was beaming, however, and for the very first time Ellie remembered the carefree woman her mother used to be. The hug she received was warm and long, then her mother stepped back and eyed James, assessing him.
‘Very nice,’ she said approvingly.
Ellie’s mouth fell open. ‘Mum, this is...er...’
‘I know. I’ve read all about you.’ She stepped back to allow them both to brush past her, anden passantJames inclined his head to kiss her on each cheek, French-style.
The cottage smelled of fresh bread and everywhere was sparkling. Cleaned in honour of the prospective son-in-law, Ellie thought with dismay... Andfresh bread? Once upon a million years ago her mother had loved baking, but that had all been put on hold for so many years that it was a struggle to remember just when her mum had last baked anything at all.
With increasing alarm, she pondered this development while absently recognising that somehow James had managed to take control of the conversation, chatting about the drive down, answering questions about Barbados, all this as they were guided into the airy kitchen where ingredients were arranged for a hearty breakfast.
‘You must be exhausted after your long drive...maybe you’d like to head up to your bedroom for a quick freshen-up?’
‘Bedroom?’ Ellie parroted weakly, surfacing slowly to the fact that dismantling her mother’s misconception was going to be a more uphill task than she had first thought. Yes, her mother had sounded pleased and happy down the disembodied cell phone, but now, here in the flesh, Ellie was shocked at just howaliveAngela Thompson was, just howanimated.
‘Of course. I’ve made up the guest room for the both of you.’ Shesmiledandwinked. ‘Darling, your room just has that silly single bed, which wouldn’t do at all. Now, why don’t you both take your bags up? In the meantime, I’ll start breakfast. Bacon fine for the pair of you? Eggs? I’ve got the most wonderful free-range eggs from Joan’s chickens.’
‘This isawful,’ was the first thing Ellie said just as soon as the bedroom door was shut. She stared at James and tried to ignore the double bed dominating the small room and the vase of freshly picked flowers on the old-fashioned dressing table with the triple mirror. ‘Are youlistening?’ she hissed, as he calmly peered through the window to the back garden and the acres of open countryside beyond.
‘I’m listening.’
Ellie advanced a couple of steps into the bedroom. She’d dumped her small holdall on the bed and only now noticed that he had deposited his black leather overnight bag next to hers. They sat there, touching, like a couple of mocking reminders of the time they had spent in bed together.
Annoyed, she snatched hers and dumped it on the chair by the dressing table.
