They reached a stile, the path left continuing along the canal and the other way looping away through a field.
‘Which way do you want to go?’
Ella lifted her shoulders. ‘No idea.’
‘If we go along the canal it cuts back to the other reservoir and we have to cut across the fields to get back. If we go across the field now, it loops back and brings us back to the village behind the church.’
Devon’s face looked a touch too innocent.
‘And what’s the time difference between the two?’
He gave her a sheepish twinkle. ‘Busted. The first one will take us another hour. The second twenty minutes.’
After the last few weeks, she had built up her stamina, so an hour’s walk didn’t faze her. If she had to, she could.
‘Which would you prefer?’
‘As it’s a nice day and I had a skinful of the city yesterday,’ his mouth tightened, ‘I’d like to head over to the Northern End reservoir. Have you been there?’
She shook her head. ‘Left it is, then.’ She followed him over the stile, and on the other side, he waited and took her hand to help her climb down.
‘Thank you.’ She smiled and raised an eyebrow. ‘Very gentlemanly.’
‘Or sensible – those wooden planks can get a little slippery. Gentlemen around here know it’s a smart move if they don’t want to have to carry maidens in distress all the way home.’
‘Oh.’ She’d been impressed by his thoughtfulness.
‘And it’s good manners,’ he teased.
‘In that case, thank you again.’
‘Are you one of those types who doesn’t like doors opened for them?’
‘No,’ she said with a twist of her mouth. ‘Although I do have a couple of friends who don’t approve.’ She’d heard the arguments plenty of times. ‘Apparently it’s benevolent sexism. The type of paternal and protective behaviour that perpetuates the view of women being incompetent beings who need to be cherished and protected.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Devon. ‘I think my ex would have disagreed with that. At the risk of sounding bitter, Marina loves nothing more than being cherished and protected, but I’d like to see the person that calls her an incompetent being. Ha!’ He let out a mirthless shout of laughter. ‘She’d chew them up and spit them out into very small pieces before stomping on them with her very sharp pointy stiletto heels.’ He sobered for a minute, before shaking his head. ‘Yeah, you don’t mess with Marina.’
He looked rueful.
‘Bets said you’d split up recently.’ Ella chose her words carefully. The tone in his voice suggested a certain amount of admiration for his ex. ‘That must be . . . ’
‘Difficult, very difficult. Trying to detangle two lives.’ He sounded resigned and weary. ‘I had to go and see her this week. She’s decid— she wants us to put our house on the market. Except it’s not going to be that straightforward.’ He scowled. ‘Not straightforward by any stretch of the imagination.’
Ella screwed up her face. ‘Don’t tell me that.’ She sighed. She’d been desperately trying to avoid thinking about the practicalities.
‘Bets mentioned that you . . . well, she mentioned that you were having problems.’
She liked Devon’s diplomacy, appreciated that he didn’t want to pry out her secrets.
‘We’re taking some time apart . . . but if we go our separate ways, there are all those decisions involved in detangling, as you put it.’ They’d have to sell their flat. But neither of them could afford to buy one another out individually. Where would she go? If she made the decision to split from him, she was making a far bigger decision which would impact on what she did in the future.
‘You have to do what’s right for you, detangling complications or not. Ours is complicated by the fact that our property is in negative equity. So we can’t sell.’
‘Ouch. That’s one thing we don’t need to worry about. We bought our flat ages ago. We split the mortgage and the gallery that Patrick runs is doing really well.’ Amazing really, considering other friends in the art business weren’t doing so well. Patrick had the golden touch when it came to sniffing out new artists. Shame his scouting ability had failed him so badly with her. ‘What if one of you wants to sell? To get out for good? What do you do?’ asked Ella, wondering what she’d do if she found herself in the same situation.
‘Find the money to pay back the negative equity or stick together.’
Whether it was because she turned to try and gauge his expression or the slipperiness of the muddy bank, but when Tess came bounding up, barging past with Dexter following at full pelt and hitting Ella’s legs, she lost her footing.
