ELEVEN
If you had asked her earlier that day if she expected to be back at The Lookout, sipping some chilled white wine with Mark Gardner, it would have been the last thing on Ellie’s mind. Yet, here she was, laughing at a joke he’d just made in his quiet, soft-accented voice.
It was the week after their last Saturday baking day and she’d been at the beach house, doing some ‘light cleaning’ – that was Fee’s phrase. Usually when Fee said it, she meant drying up a couple of wine glasses. For Ellie it looked more like pushing the hoover around and putting a wash on: living in a beach house meant that sand got in everything. She had some music on and was wearing some brushed cotton pyjamas with her hair up in a bun when someone had knocked at the door.
‘Oh. Morning.’ She’d stepped behind the door to try and disguise her unkempt outfit from Mark, who was standing on the step. Madonna carried on singing in the background.
‘Mornin’.’ He’d given her that slow smile again.
‘What’s up?’ She gave him a bright smile in return.
‘I, err… brought you these.’ He’d handed her a Tupperware container containing some lush-looking cherries. ‘From the tree, in the garden. Loads of fruit this year,’ he explained.
‘Oh. Wow, these look amazing. Look, let me just turn this off…’ Ellie had scrambled for her phone on the mantelpiece and turned off the music app she was using. ‘Classic 80s,’ she’d said, by way of explanation. ‘No Diana Ross, I’m afraid.’
‘Right. Well, no one’s perfect.’ He leaned against the door frame.
‘So, how are the repairs coming?’ she’d asked, hoping that her prosthetic boob hadn’t slipped out of place as she’d been dancing; she’d been trying to wear it more now that her scar was healing up. Fortunately, her pyjama top was pretty baggy. ‘Can’t live here forever!’ she’d added, jokily, but he frowned.
‘Comin’ along. Takes a while, though.’
‘Oh, no, I know. I was just… never mind.’ Ellie had taken a breath. ‘Thanks for the cherries. That’s so nice of you. I should probably get on,’ she’d said.
‘You’re welcome.’ He’d paused. ‘Um. I was wondering. If you weren’t doing anything later, maybe you’d like to come out for dinner with me? The Lookout does nice food an’ that.’ He looked like he might be blushing. ‘If you haven’t got plans. Thought it would be nice if we ate out for a change.’
‘Oh! Okay. Shall I ask Fee as well?’ Ellie had replied, but his slightly awkward expression had suddenly made her realise that he was asking her out. ‘Sorry. Isn’t that what you meant?’
‘Sure. I can take both of you,’ he’d replied hurriedly. ‘Walk up to the garage at six and I’ll drive us from there.’
When he’d gone, Ellie had gone upstairs to where Fee was working at her laptop on her bed.
‘Mark Gardner just asked us to go out for dinner with him tonight.’ Ellie had stood in the doorway, feeling confused.
Fee had given her one of her looks. ‘Asked you out, more like. I heard all of that.’
‘How did you hear? What are you, an owl?’
‘Do owls have great hearing? I didn’t know,’ Fee replied, grinning. ‘Anyway, the point is, someone likes you. If you didn’t already know from theSaturday Kitchensituation.’
‘Shut up. He asked both of us. You’d better come with me.’
‘Absolutely not! I have no desire to get in the way of love’s young dream,’ Fee tutted. ‘You and I both know he was asking you out on a date. He was just being polite when you assumed it was both of us.’
‘Well, I don’t want to go on a date with Mark Gardner!’ Ellie blushed.
‘Shut up. Why are you blushing, then?’
‘I’m not blushing,’ Ellie retorted. ‘Love’s young dream? I’m thirty-seven!’
‘Love’s middle-aged dream, then. Love’s thirtysomething dream. Whatever. If he’s wearing clean clothes and he’s washed his face when you get there, it’s a date. What’re you going to wear?’
When Ellie had turned up alone at the garage wearing a loose sundress and some summery lipstick, had she imagined a relieved look in Mark’s eyes? She didn’t know. She’d said that Fee was working that evening and couldn’t make it. He’d been very gentlemanly about it, saying that they should all go out another time.
And when they’d got to the pub in Mark’s car – something altogether more sleek than his clunky pickup truck – he’d opened the door for her to get out, held it for her as they went into the pub and pulled out her chair at the table.
‘So how are your niece and nephew? They’re cute kids,’ Ellie asked, enjoying the late-evening sun in the pub garden. The sun was getting more and more orange as it moved towards the horizon, and the sea reflected its glow as if it was filled with golden treasure.
Ellie also had to admit that Fee was right: it was clearly a date because Mark was wearing a nice shirt and a clean pair of jeans, and actual shoes rather than his muddy work boots. He’d also shaved and looked like he’d had a haircut. She had tried not to stare, but it was difficult, because Mark Gardner cleaned up very well indeed.
