‘Ha. They ’ave their moments.’ He smiled fondly; Ellie could see the love in his eyes. ‘Not bad. My sister’s just split up with her fella again, though, so that’s gonna be ’ard on them.’ He sighed. ‘Everyone saw it comin’ from a mile away, but Jamey’s been tryin’ to make it work for years. He’s a bad ’un, though.’ Mark shook his head.
‘A bad ’un?’ Ellie probed. ‘In what way?’
‘Got a temper on him. Slapped her a few times, but not the kids. Last week they had a fallin’-out and he broke her wrist.’ Mark paused. ‘Sorry. Not really what I wanted to talk about on a…’ The worddatehung in the air between them. ‘… on a nice evenin’,’ he corrected himself, clearing his throat.
‘That’s okay. I’m so sorry to hear that.’ Ellie frowned.
‘You don’t seem very shocked.’ He took a sip of his beer. ‘Not all us Cornishmen hit women. Or did you think it was common down ’ere?’
‘No, of course not! I work in corporate law now, but I started off in family law,’ Ellie explained. ‘I suppose it doesn’t mean I’m very surprised when I hear about it, that’s all. I’d probably be more surprised hearing about a happy family.’
‘Right, I guess that makes sense.’ Mark nodded. ‘Not a great headspace to be in, though, is it? Thinkin’ that’s normal?’
‘I suppose not. Anyway, look. If your sister needs any legal help, let me know. I’d be happy to help her out, or point her in the direction of someone else that could help.’
‘Oh. Well, I’ll pass that on. Thanks.’ He drank some of his beer and stared out at the sea for a moment. ‘Anyway, I’ll be lookin’ after the kids a bit more for a while, I expect. Don’t mean I won’t be doing your repairs, mind,’ he added.
‘I wasn’t thinking about the repairs,’ she assured him.
‘What were you thinkin’, then?’ He leaned across the table a little and gazed into her eyes. There was an instant of pleasant anticipation between them: one of those moments in a conversation when the mood changes imperceptibly. Ellie held his gaze for as long as she dared.
‘I was thinking that I’m having a nice time,’ she answered, honestly. ‘And it hasn’t been such a great time in my life recently, so thank you.’ She looked away. ‘I’ve had a really nice time with you… every time, in fact,’ she added, shyly.
‘I get that impression. That you’re… I dunno. Trying to get past somethin’.’ Cautiously, he reached for her hand across the table. ‘You can tell me, if you want. But you don’t have to.’
Don’t tell him, Ellie’s mind screamed at her.He’ll just think you’re a freak. This is too raw.
But her instinct, something in her gut, felt that she could trust Mark.
‘I had breast cancer.’ She said it quietly, not wanting anyone at the nearby tables to hear. ‘I had an operation. A mastectomy. That’s why Fee and I are here. I’m convalescing.’ She gave him a wan smile.
‘Oh, God, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.’ Mark took both of her hands in his, unexpectedly, and squeezed them. ‘How d’you feel now?’
‘Tired, still,’ she confessed. ‘Sore. But it’s healing, slowly. It’s kind of more about how it feels in here.’ She tapped her temple. ‘I’m still trying to deal with what’s happened. It was all pretty fast. Didn’t get a lot of time to process what was happening.’
‘You’re young to have ’ad it.’ He kept her hands in his, gently.
‘It can happen. But, yes, I am. Just lucky, I guess.’ Ellie made a face. It was challenging all of her instincts to be this open with someone; she never would be normally, not even with Fee. But there was something about Mark that made her feel like she could. She’d got to know him a little now, and she felt she could trust him.
‘Life, huh?’ Mark gave her a rueful grin and sat back, letting her hands go. ‘Rubbish, sometimes.’
‘It certainly is,’ Ellie agreed.
‘More wine?’ he asked, tapping her glass. ‘I’ll get us another round. Lemonade for me, this time.’
Ellie laughed. ‘That seems like a very good idea,’ she replied.
On the drive home, Ellie rested her head against the seat and watched the quiet roads of Magpie Cove scroll past, faintly hypnotised by the hum of the local radio station Mark had turned on quietly: it was playing oldies from the 50s, and she recognised the tunes – comforting songs that she could never believe had once been thought radical.
Time changes what we fear, she thought to herself. Once, parents had feared their children listening to rock ’n’ roll. Like everyone, Ellie had feared cancer: she still feared it, there was no doubt about that. But she was on the other side of it now. Would it lose its power over her, now that she had had surgery, now that she had had the radiation therapy, now that she was taking the drug that the doctor thought would get rid of whatever was left? She didn’t know. It still made her panic when she thought about it too much, so she tried not to.People aren’t afraid that Elvis will corrupt their children anymore, she told herself.Maybe, one day, people won’t fear cancer anymore.
She didn’t want to think about the cancer, so she pushed it to one side in her mind.
Was she drunk? She’d certainly gone off on a strange tangent in her thoughts, comparing the music of Elvis Presley to cancer. Mark had drunk one pint of beer; she might have drunk three glasses of wine. They’d both had the seafood risotto, which had been delicious. She wasn’t drunk, but since the surgery she’d had a much lower tolerance for alcohol.
She turned her head to watch him as he drove. It was a pleasure to watch him in the dim interior. Ellie studied the line of Mark’s jaw, the slight frown on his face as he watched the road; the flex of his muscular forearm as he turned the wheel gently. He cast her a glance, suddenly self-conscious.
‘Stop watchin’ me,’ he murmured.
