‘You might be in luck; it looks as though they’ve saved her from the pitchfork patrol.’ Ellie pointed towards Charlie, Nicola, Laura and Jackson, who were busy loading Claudette into the back of Charlie’s truck.
‘I might just pop by their farm tomorrow and bring her a carrot or whatever she might eat.’ Murray grinned.
‘I’ve heard she’s quite partial to Rich Tea biscuits.’
‘Really?’ Murray wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him as they walked. ‘I might have to raid the biscuit tin then.’
They walked most of the way back to Pennycress in an easy silence, though Ellie was trying her best to work out what Murray might be hiding and Murray was perhaps thinking that he’d had a lucky escape from Miss Cooke’s interrogation.
‘You’ve got to be joking!’ Taking his arm from around Ellie’s waist, Murray hurried forward towards his van, which was parked outside the inn.
‘What’s the matter?’ Looking across the paintwork, she frowned. She couldn’t see any damage or anything to suggest someone had knocked into it.
‘I’ve been clamped.’ Murray shot his arm out in the direction of a large metal clamp covering the front wheel.
‘Oh no! Jackson mentioned Miss Cooke was having a crackdown on illegal parking, but you’ve not parked in the wrong place or anything.’ Ellie jogged towards where he was now circling the truck.
Pausing, he shook his head and pointed towards the back end of the van. ‘Are they being serious? I must have parked only two inches over the yellow lines, if that. Two inches? I park over by that much, and they clamp me?’
Kneeling down by the wheel, Ellie tried to tug off the clamp, but it was well and truly locked. ‘It’s no good, it’s not budging.’
Laying his hand on his forehead, Murray sighed. ‘And I bet the company won’t be open until the morning now.’
‘Probably not.’ Standing up again, she chewed on her bottom lip. ‘I can give you a lift and then pick you up on the way in tomorrow.’ She felt a gnawing guilt for not thinking to tell him about Miss Cooke and her parking patrols, but even if she had realised he was parked out the front of the inn, she wouldn’t have clocked that his truck was over the line by a couple of inches. And she wouldn’t have thought they’d have issued a clamp for it anyway.
‘Yes, okay, thanks.’ Murray ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I don’t suppose I have any choice but to leave it here for the night.’
‘I don’t think so. Come on, we’ll grab my car.’ Pulling her key from her handbag, Ellie began walking around the side of Pennycress to the small car park.
25
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you home? You’ve been working all day, you deserve the evening off, and besides, aren’t all your tools in your van?’ After pulling into the short driveway to the gate where she’d changed her flat and first saw Murray again, Ellie pulled her handbrake up.
‘No, this will be grand. Thank you.’ Unclipping his seatbelt, Murray cupped his hand to her cheek and kissed her. ‘I really do appreciate it.’
Pulling away, Ellie ran the pads of her fingers across the stubble on his chin. ‘Then let me wait for you to finish at the workshop so I can run you home after.’
‘No, I’m good. It’s not far.’ Opening the car door, Murray stepped outside before pausing and turning to her. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am that we ran into each other again.’
She grinned. ‘Me too.’
‘See you tomorrow.’ Murray closed the door before opening the gate and slipping through.
As she watched him walk towards his workshop, she smiled. She could hardly believe this was actually happening. She’d daydreamed about meeting up with him again hundreds – no, thousands – of times over the years, and now that it was happening, it was difficult to believe it was real.
As she turned the ignition, she glanced in his direction one last time, and as she did so, she noticed something on the passenger seat. Turning off the engine again, she reached out and picked it up, turning it over in her hands. It was Murray’s wallet and if she wasn’t mistaken, it was the wallet she’d bought him for the last Christmas they’d celebrated together. She ran the pad of her forefinger across the edges of the leather and the stamp of his initial, M.W. with a small x.
Yes, it was one hundred per cent the wallet she’d bought him all those Christmases ago. The leather had softened, the colour faded, but it was the same one. He’d kept it all this time. Whether he’d been using it all the while was a different story, but surely it must mean something if he’d kept it. It must mean that she’d still been in his thoughts. Unless it was just that it was a good wallet, or a more recent one had broken and he’d unearthed this one in his house move, so had just decided to use it for the time being before replacing it.
She snapped her head up in the hopes she could catch his eye before he disappeared inside his workshop, but she was too late. He must have gone in already.
Unclipping her seatbelt, she jumped out of the car and hurried towards the door. She wasn’t quite sure how she could ask the reason he’d kept the wallet, but perhaps he’d naturally say something when she handed it to him and realised she recognised it. Ellie hoped so.
She knocked on the door before pushing it open and stepping inside. He wasn’t there. The place was empty. Where had he gone?
Walking further into the workshop, she passed stacks of wood and tools hanging from the bare brick walls until she was standing in a small area at the back of the room. She frowned. Instead of more carpentry paraphernalia, a small sofa had been pushed against the wall whilst a single kitchen unit stood against the back wall, half a loaf of bread, a kettle and a single mug sitting next to a tiny sink. On an old battered sideboard next to the kitchen unit sat a camping stove and a stack of saucepans amongst other cooking items. Clothes were draped over boxes labelled ‘living room’, ‘study’, ‘bedroom’ and ‘kitchen’, and a tin of beans had rolled beneath a workbench.
Was he living here? Is this why he hadn’t wanted to tell Miss Cooke his address? Why he hadn’t wanted to tell her?
