TWENTY-SIX
Ellie was in her bedroom on board Marilyn, folding the clothes she’d just picked up from a local launderette. Most of her clothes had just needed a good wash to get the smoke out, since the fire itself hadn’t got to the bedrooms of the beach house. She’d had to buy some new shoes in the village, though.
There was a knock on the door.
‘Just a minute!’ she yelled, looking around for some jeans; she was currently in her knickers and a vest top with her hair pulled into a messy bun.
Fee had gone over to St Ives in a taxi to take a portfolio of work over to a client – fortunately, her laptop and the printer hadn’t been affected by the smoke. They had driven Marilyn out of Mark’s garage and onto the small stretch of road that overlooked the cove, just for the night. They’d be off in the morning, but Mark needed the space for another repair he had coming in. It was fair enough, Fee pointed out: Marilyn had dominated his garage for weeks.
Since it was such a hot night, and since she was so close by, Ellie had been considering going for one final dip in the sea when she’d finished sorting out all her stuff – once it got darker and there was no one around at the beach.
Despite everything that had happened, she was definitely going to miss waking up to the soft sound of the waves crashing in the cove, and the bright sunlight that glowed through her curtains every morning. It was sad to see the beach house in such a bad way. Everything stank, and the once-bright white curtains and bed linen in Ellie’s room had been stripped away and replaced. There was no saving any soft furnishings after a fire, it seemed. Ellie wished that her last memories of the beach house could be as it used to be: cosy and stylish. Now, she would forever think of it as damaged.
She pulled on some loose shorts and a short-sleeved summer hoodie, and answered the door.
Mark Gardner stood outside the motorhome, his hands in his pockets. The sun was setting over the beach, cerise evening light reflected in the water, merging air and ocean together in a fiery marriage.
‘Oh. Hi,’ Ellie breathed. Whoever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t Mark.
‘Ellie. I…’ He trailed off. ‘I had to… I couldn’t just let you leave without…’
‘Without what?’ she said, softly, into the silence that followed. She could see he was fighting with himself; trying to find the right thing to say.
Her eyes travelled over his strong chin, his soft eyes. Ellie remembered the electricity of Mark’s gaze that day at the beach, when he had looked back at her across the sand, seeming to hear her desire for him. Despite the distance, in that moment she had felt that look in every secret part of her body.
He was looking at her again in just the same way. And it made her feel exactly the same as before: as if she was melting.
Without answering, Mark stepped forward and kissed her.
This time, Ellie didn’t push him away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered to his lips on hers.
So this is what people mean when they talk about having chemistry, she thought, briefly, before she was consumed by the moment.
Ellie had kissed her share of men, and it was nice. Exciting, often. But kissing Mark was something else entirely. It was as though there was something in their physical connection that was every single cliché in all the romantic songs she’d heard. There was a sense of fitting together perfectly, of a deep desire, an energy between them that felt both right and comfortable.
When she and Mark had gone out, she’d pushed him away out of fear. And, because of fear, she had missed out on this.
Kissing Mark Gardner made Ellie feel alive. But it was more than that: kissing Mark made Ellie feel right in her skin again. It was a feeling she hadn’t had for a long time.
Suddenly, the balance of their relationship shifted from an unacknowledged attraction and all their jokey conversations to some other plane, where their bodies and souls connected effortlessly.
Breaking the kiss for a moment, Ellie took Mark’s hand. She led him into the motorhome, letting her instinct finally break free and take over.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Mark murmured. ‘I didn’t expect… I mean, I just wanted to see you before you go.’
‘I want this. Do you?’ Ellie met his hungry gaze.
‘Yes,’ he answered simply, kissing her again.
‘Come on, then.’ Ellie led Mark to her bedroom, feeling like a teenager. Sometimes, these moments came – though they had been few and far between in Ellie’s life so far – where fate seemed to take over. She could feel that energy between her and Mark now: a magical, perfect time where life seemed to be saying,Take this precious time together now. This is your moment.
‘I was scared I’d lost you. In the fire,’ he murmured as he held her close. ‘I should have been there, and I wasn’t.’
‘You couldn’t have known.’ Ellie traced the line of his chin with her fingertip. ‘It was an accident. Out of the blue.’
‘I should have been there,’ he repeated, stubbornly.
‘You’re here now,’ she breathed, and he smiled as he kissed her again.
Outside her window, the sun was setting quickly, and the light was fading. In her room, Ellie pulled Mark to the bed. Warm light made a protective glow around them as, slowly, Mark unzipped Ellie’s hoodie, pushed her vest top down and gently kissed the scar that had brought her to Magpie Cove.
‘Let’s make the most of it, then,’ he replied.
