‘And if only I’d known all along the way to impress you was with my sewing.’ Prim was pawing at Max’s legs, and he reached for her collar to hold her still. ‘Not my leadership skills or brilliant landscape designs.’
‘Max!’ Noelle was rushing across the courtyard trailing Lily and Arlo and clutching a cape falling from her shoulders. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be going somewhere? Lily mentioned a party.’
‘You know I am, Maman.’ Max’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his mother. ‘I’ll take these two back and get them changed now.’
Stan was looking at Noelle and Ella saw his cheeky grin had vanished, and apparently with it the power of speech.
‘Bonjour, Stan.’ Noelle gave him a smile and he could only nod as his face became pink. ‘Merci beaucoupfor the logs you left in the flat for Ella. She’ll be needing more soon, I expect.’
‘Be my pleasure,’ Stan muttered. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands and eventually stuffed them into his pockets. ‘You needin’ more yet, Ms Bourdon?’
‘Noelle, Stan, I’ve told you before.’ Noelle even managed to shrug elegantly, and Ella noticed one hand was splashed with paint. ‘None of this Ms Bourdon, we are not so formal here, are we? Are we not friends,ça va?’
‘If you say so.’
‘I’ve got to go.’ Max spoke to Ella, removing his hand from Prim’s collar and she took off after the children. ‘Stan will sort you out if you need anything. Text me a list of the shopping you need for the pizza, I’ll bring it back with me. My mother will give you my number. Stan, I’ll get the new chainsaw ordered today, I promise.’
‘Make sure you do,’ Stan muttered as Noelle gathered her cape and fluttered away. ‘Cos them trees ain’t gonna chop themselves down an’ Sandy will be after you if there’s not one at church in time for the Christingle service. Sandy’s our resident rector an’ potter,’ Stan explained to Ella. ‘You’ll see ’er ’ere before long, I shouldn’t wonder.’
Ella’s mum and Dylan had both already messaged this morning, asking for images of her new surroundings, and she thought she might manage to waylay them with a few landscape shots instead. Yesterday had been a long, dreary day spent mostly in the car and her mind was still whirring with the reality of losing her job and finding this new one in little more than a couple of weeks. She needed a run; the outdoor activity balanced her. Very often a walk would become a run, when the only way to let her mind slow was to allow her feet to fly.
And would Halesmere be enough for her, even for now? After her previous job, with its frantic pace and constant buzz, would she be able to lose herself in the landscape here, take the opportunity to run and swim every day if she chose? Or would she regret it, feel as though she’d left Lauren even further behind? Only when Ella was pushing herself, when she could feel her limits and wanted to extend them, did she sense that she was living life hard enough. She needed the feeling of control it gave her, a way to live life twice over. Once for her, and once for Lauren. It was the only way Ella knew how to keep her sister close and Lauren’s dream alive.
Ella’s kayak was still in the car, and she collected her running trainers from the boot and changed into her kit in the flat. She still hadn’t lit the fire and it was chilly inside, gloomy and unfriendly. She’d left her Christmas decorations behind in Brighton; she might buy more to cheer this place up for a few weeks at least. She slipped her earbuds in and locked the door, stretching at the bottom of the steps to warm up.
She followed a stony track away from the buildings, jogging easily and aware that her habits were remaining the same, even though her environment was now so very different. Everything other than the music in her ears was silenced and she felt as though she was quite literally running herself into something new, grinding her old life and career into the rough ground beneath her feet.
Forty minutes later she was heading up a narrow lane alongside a meadow and saw the walls of the house rising out of its garden. She reached the drive and headed back through the arch towards the flat. Time for another dodgy shower.
When she knocked nervously at the door to Noelle’s flat later, she was surprised to receive no answer. Her introduction to Noelle’s work would have to come another time and Ella couldn’t deny she was rather relieved.
It was close to three p.m. and going dark when Ella banged her front door shut and returned through the arch to Max’s cottage, where a black pickup was sitting on the drive. She’d just had her first proper look around the kitchen in the flat and had known at once she wouldn’t be making pizza bases or anything else in there. She knocked, heard Prim bark inside. The door swung open to reveal Max, changed into lounging trousers and a hoodie. His eyes were red behind his glasses, and he covered a yawn with a hand.
‘Is everything all right?’ He took the glasses off to rub his temples. ‘I’ve got the stuff you need for the pizza; I probably should have fetched it over sooner. Sorry.’
‘That’s okay. I’m sorry to bother you at home. It is about the pizza actually.’
‘What about it?’
‘I need somewhere to make it; I can’t prepare the dough in the flat.’
‘Because?’
‘Because the kitchen in the flat is a disgrace and I’m not prepared to use it.’ She’d said it now and he could do what he liked with the information. She wondered how far it was to the nearest takeaway. Miles, probably; the food would be stone cold by the time she returned, if she did find her way back here before the children’s bedtime. The lanes all looked the same in the dark, edged with trees looming down over stone walls smothered in moss.
‘Right. Anything else you’d like to tell me?’
Was she imagining a trace of amusement now? Ella was sure Max wouldn’t think it quite so funny if she reported him to environmental health. ‘I wouldn’t cook for anyone in it, certainly not your small children. There are signs of mice, and I don’t want to make Lily and Arlo sick.’
‘I don’t want you to make them sick, either. I’m not a huge fan of clearing up vomit in the middle of the night.’
She smiled at that, and a pause lengthened as she waited for him to decide. He stepped back against the wall. ‘I suppose you’d better come in if you’re suggesting what I think you are. You want to use my kitchen instead?’
‘Please.’ Her quick laugh was apologetic. ‘Next time I promise it’ll be ready-made bases straight off a supermarket shelf.’
‘Next time?’
‘Figure of speech,’ she added hastily. She didn’t want him to think she fancied cosy Saturday nights tucked up in his cottage with him and his children any more than he did. ‘You know what I mean.’
