‘I’m sorry,’ her dad said. ‘I suppose you should be at work.’
‘Yes, I should.’ She could have mentioned that he’d been fully aware of her work commitments when he phoned her earlier but she didn’t. ‘I’ll pop over later if you like,’ she added, seeing the shadow of melancholy that crossed his features. He brightened instantly.
‘That would be nice… if you’re sure it’s no trouble. I could show you the new pan pipes I had delivered today.’
Ellie could think of a million things she ought to be doing, quite a lot of them involving people her own age and none of them involving painfully out-of-tune pan pipe playing, but she simply smiled. ‘Of course it isn’t. I’ll bring you some shopping.’
‘How do you know I need shopping?’
‘Dad… you always need shopping. You can’t eat musical instruments, you know, so why do you insist on buying all this crap instead of feeding yourself?’ She glanced around. ‘And do you think we can have less of the jumble sale vibe around here when I get back?’
‘I know… I’ve been meaning to clean up.’
‘When was that, exactly? 1982?’
He pouted like a sullen schoolboy.
‘Sorry,’ Ellie said, her heart lurching at the sadness in his expression. He was having a hard time without her mum, but with all the chaos in her own life it was easy for Ellie to forget that he needed things to take his mind off that. She reached to kiss him on the cheek. ‘I would stay now but I really have to meet Patrick to cover a story.’
Her dad forced a smile. ‘Say hello to him for me.’
‘I will,’ Ellie called as she headed for the door.
Ellie pulled into the open gates of Millrise Academy of Excellence, formerly known as plain old Millrise High School before the government had decided that every school needed to sound as though it trained kids in the arts of espionage, astrophysics and ninja assassination. Grabbing her phone and favourite polka-dot satchel from the passenger seat, she leapt out of the car and hurried to the school reception.
‘Hi, I’m Ellie Newton, from the Millrise Echo,’ she announced breathlessly to the impossibly perky looking woman on the reception desk.
The woman gave a faint look of surprise. ‘I thought you were all finished here…’ She pulled the visitor book around to read the entries. ‘Yes, Patrick Morgan from the Echo signed out an hour ago and the lady author, Suzy Salford, signed out a few minutes later.’
‘Shit… sorry, I mean, I was supposed to meet Patrick here.’
‘I’m afraid they’ve both gone.’
Ellie chewed her lip for a moment. ‘OK, thanks,’ she said finally.
As she walked back to her car she dialled Patrick.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said as he picked up. There was a chuckle from the other end of the line.
‘You’re racking these favours up,’ he said. ‘I actually think I did a pretty good job of passing myself off as a real live journalist today. I really don’t think I need you anymore, partner.’
‘Yeah, yeah, but who would you wind up all day if you didn’t have me?’ Ellie grinned as a wave of relief washed over her. She hadn’t really thought for a minute that Patrick would be angry with her, but she was beginning to wonder if she was pushing her luck.
‘You should thank your lucky stars that you didn’t get there in time anyway. That author was the most boring woman on the planet. She could have died half way through the question and answer session and nobody would have noticed. God, I’d hate to read one of her books.’
‘You’d hate to read anyone’s book,’ Ellie quipped as she unlocked her car.
‘Seriously, though…’ Patrick added. Ellie stopped dead.
‘What?’
‘You need to stop running around after your parents. They’re adults and they need to stop leaning on you all the time. In fact, aren’t they supposed to do this sort of thing for you, not the other way around? They know you have an actual job and a life of your own, right?’
Ellie sighed. ‘Vernon understands how things are and he said he was OK with me popping off from time to time as long as my work got done and I managed to stick to deadlines. Things are just a mess now. They’ll calm down when Mum and Dad work things out and get back together.’
‘It’s been months. Have you considered that they might never get back together?’
‘Of course they will,’ Ellie said in a voice that suggested nothing was more certain. ‘I’m on my way into the office now. Are you heading back too?’
‘Yeah. You bring the coffees, I’ll bring the Jammy Dodgers and my notes, and we’ll meet in the kitchen for Operation Snorefest.’
Ellie giggled. ‘OK, I’ll see you in half an hour.’
Two
Ellie swung round on her chair with a jerk. There were only so many ways you could make a story about shopping trolleys stolen from a local superstore interesting, and Ellie had been smothered into a sleepy haze by the office’s central heating as she tried vainly to do just that. It wasn’t helping that she had fallen asleep in front of her dad’s TV the previous evening when she popped back to see him. After throwing a pizza in the oven, they had watched reruns of Bergerac together and Ellie had woken just after one in the morning with a stiff neck and the TV still murmuring in the corner. Her dad had fallen asleep too and barely even opened his eyes as she nudged him in the direction of his bedroom. Ellie could have stayed over, but faced with the prospect of going to the toilet in the night and being sucked beneath her dad’s washing pile as if it was some kind of fabric-based quick-sand, she decided that she’d rather drive home. Back at her house, it had taken another hour and two cups of Horlicks before she felt sleepy enough to go back to bed. At Vernon’s announcement, however, she was suddenly wide awake again.
‘Seriously?’
Vernon nodded and stretched into a huge yawn, obviously suffering from the heating and the effects of a slow news morning as much as Ellie. ‘Bloody nutter.’ He glanced at Ellie with a wry smile. ‘I suppose you want this one?’
‘I do! I swear if I have to visit another school dress-up day I’m going to jump from the nearest motorway bridge.’
‘That’s because you keep getting mistaken for one of the kids and ending up in detention,’ Ange called over her shoulder as she stared intently at a photo of an escaped armed robber spotted in a local branch of Toys ‘R’ Us that morning perusing the Barbie stand.
‘Ha ha,’ Ellie shot back.
Ellie looked much younger than her twenty-seven years on account of her petite stature and huge brown eyes in a heart-shaped face. She had styled her hair into a short, elfin cut in the hope that it might age her, but it had only made her look younger still and a little like a pixie from an Enid Blyton book, much to her annoyance and to the hilarity of the rest of her office at the newspaper. Ange whizzed around and gave her a huge grin.
‘You know I’m just jealous, right? It’s been about thirty years since I got mistaken for anyone below retirement age.’
Ellie laughed. ‘I don’t know what you’re worried about, you always look super glam.’
‘Yeah, like a glamorous granny.’ Ange raised her eyebrows.
‘Noooo, like Joan Collins.’
‘I rest my case.’
‘Back to this story then…’ Vernon chuckled. ‘You might want to get a move on with this one, Ellie. If the police get a sniff he’ll be gone before you arrive.’
Ellie frowned. ‘Aren’t there human rights laws about things like that? If he wants to sit on a street corner, can they stop him?’
‘Depends how much of a nuisance he is, I suppose,’ Vernon mused. ‘I’m not really au fait with that area of the law.’
‘No…’ Ange cut in, ‘kerb crawling is your speciality…’
‘Oi! Only as part of news stories!’ Vernon laughed.
Ellie turned to him. ‘So let me get this straight… this guy has decided to camp out on the corner of Constance Street because he wants to win back his girlfriend?’
�
�It would seem so.’
‘Wouldn’t it be easier to text her like normal people do?’
‘One would imagine that he has tried all the usual methods and failed.’
‘It’s a bit odd.’
‘A bit romantic,’ Ange offered.
‘Romantic?’ Ellie repeated.
‘Don’t you think so?’
‘It sounds like attention seeking to me.’
‘Of course it is. He’s seeking the attention of the woman he loves.’
‘Romantic or not,’ Ellie said, shaking herself and grabbing her polka-dot satchel from under the desk, ‘this is the first decent story I’ve had in months.’ She leapt from her chair and rushed for the door. ‘Catch you guys later.’
Ellie searched her brain as she drove, trying to remember the exact location of Constance Street. She had a vague idea that it was one long row of terraced houses amongst a labyrinth of other terraced rows on the outskirts of Millrise. But as her sat nav had reset itself to confuse rather than navigate, she had yanked it from the dashboard in a fit of temper. It now lay stuffed under the passenger seat and Ellie had to rely on memory alone.
Just as she turned into a side street, her mobile rang.
‘Hey Mum, what have you done this time?’ She clamped the phone between her ear and shoulder as she changed gear.
Her mum’s tight voice came down the line. ‘Are you driving… again?’
‘Yeah, it’s OK though; I’m always driving when you phone and you don’t usually snap at me. What’s up?’
‘I bloody do! I’ve told you time and time again. Phone me back when you’ve stopped.’
‘No… hang on, Mum,’ Ellie sighed as she swerved towards the kerb and pulled on the handbrake. ‘Is everything OK? You sound a bit tense.’
‘I’m bound to be tense when you insist on doing everything while you’re trying to drive. You’ll kill yourself one of these days.’
Ellie frowned. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind her mum that the reason she did everything whilst trying to drive was that there was so much to do. ‘OK, I won’t do it anymore if it bothers you that much… what’s really wrong?’
There was a loud exhale at the end of the line, and then silence for a moment. ‘It’s your aunt Hazel.’
‘The latest scans are back?’
‘They’re… they’re…’
‘Mum?’
Ellie’s mother sniffed hard. ‘You’re at work; this should probably wait until later.’
‘Mum, you can’t call me with half a story and then expect it to wait all day. I know it’s bad, so just tell me.’ Ellie cut the engine. ‘The cancer has spread, hasn’t it?’
‘Oh Ellie…’ her mum began in a choked voice, ‘it’s in her lungs, her glands… it’s everywhere.’
‘Oh God. Poor Hazel…’ Ellie murmured. ‘You want me to come over?’
‘No, love, there’s no point. You’ve skipped work enough for me as it is and you can’t do anything here anyway except mope.’
‘But… what about you?’
‘I’m fine; it’s Hazel we need to worry about.’
Ellie watched absently as a little old lady dragged a disgruntled looking dog past on a lead. ‘I should call to see her when I finish work. Do you want me to pick you up first?’
‘If you don’t mind, that would be good.’
‘OK, see you later…’ Ellie went for the call end button but her mother’s voice came through again.
‘Ellie…’
‘Yeah, still here.’
‘Please be careful when you’re out on the road…’
‘Of course, Mum. Love you.’
‘Love you too. More than you can ever imagine.’
Ellie ended the call and let her head fall to the steering wheel. She screwed her eyes shut tight. Though they had all been expecting it, this was not the news she had wanted to hear about her aunt. Drying her eyes, she took a deep breath and steadied herself. There would be time to dwell on the sorrows that were coming, but right now she had a lead to follow. Her aunt Hazel would be furious if she thought for a moment that people’s lives had been put on hold for her illness – an illness with a path that was now headed for only one destination, no matter how many tears were shed.
As soon as Ellie turned into Constance Street, she saw the figure of a man sitting on a striped, fold-up chair. He had a piece of card bearing some writing and a photo of a girl leaning against the wall by his side, a thermos flask down on the pavement at his other side. Other than the black, well-cut reefer coat and his immaculate grooming, he could have been a tramp begging for change. The day was the usual sort of winter’s day in Britain – grey and heavy with a damp chill in the air that seemed to find a way through clothing to seep into bones and joints. Ellie felt cold just looking at him huddled there. Avoiding the nearby double yellow lines, she pulled up a few feet away and grabbed her notebook from the passenger seat of her Mini.
‘Hi!’ she called in the brightest voice she could muster as she made her way over.
Covering all sorts of stories and meeting all sorts of people, Ellie was always prepared for all sorts of receptions when she approached someone for the first time, but he looked up with a smile so warm and genuine that for a moment it threw her off-guard.
‘I’m Ellie Newton,’ she said, quickly recovering her wits and sticking out her hand. ‘From the Millrise Echo.’
He reached out and shook hands. Ellie couldn’t help but notice the strong warmth of his grip – not in the over-masculine way that some men she went to visit grabbed her hand, but in a way that suggested a certain ease with himself. ‘I wondered who would get here first,’ he said, ‘police or newspaper.’
‘Police?’
‘I’m sure some mean-spirited busy-body will call them sooner or later to move me on.’
‘Right,’ Ellie smiled. ‘Don’t worry; I don’t want to move you on. In fact, I want you to stay right there until my photographer gets here.’
He unfolded a second seat from against the wall and patted it for her. ‘Want to get comfy while you wait?’
‘Thanks.’ Ellie sat and opened her notepad. ‘Prepared for visitors, eh?’
‘For one in particular… if she ever shows up…’ he said, his expression suddenly melancholy.
Ellie watched him carefully. He was undoubtedly good looking: caramel skin, huge dark eyes and closely cropped black hair, the sort of smile that could light up cities. For the second time that day, she was wrong-footed and had to shake herself. ‘I’d like to do a piece about you for the paper – well, about the reasons you’ve decided to sit here – if that’s OK.’
He nodded. ‘Sure, why not. If it gets Gemma to notice then I’m game for anything.’
‘That’s her name?’
‘Gemma Fox.’
‘Is this her?’ Ellie nodded her head in the direction of the photo on the card. He picked it up and gazed at it.
‘Yeah. She’s gorgeous, eh?’
Ellie examined the photo. The girl had blonde locks tumbling over her shoulders in perfectly formed waves, huge green eyes and a full mouth. She looked like supermodel material. Ellie suddenly felt very plain, but she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. ‘She’s lovely.’
‘I know. I should have told her that more often…’
Ellie glanced at the picture again. This woman didn’t look as if she needed people to tell her she was beautiful – the certainty of that knowledge seemed to shine from every fibre of her being. ‘Can I ask your name?’ Ellie said, steering the conversation away from this annoyingly perfect specimen of womanhood.
‘Ben Kelly.’
‘Ben short for Benjamin or just plain Ben?’ Ellie asked as she scribbled down the details.
‘Benvolio, actually.’
Ellie glanced up and he met her questioning look with a grin. ‘Nothing to do with me – all my mum’s idea.’
‘It’s… unusual. I’m jealous. I wish I had a more imaginative name,’ Ellie repli
ed, noting it down.
‘What’s wrong with Ellie? It’s nice.’
She looked up and shrugged. ‘It’s nice. And also very common.’
‘If you leave off the Volio bit, mine’s quite common too.’ He flashed her another disarming grin.
Ellie bit back one of her own and bent her head to her notes again. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘Since this morning. I didn’t call the newspaper, by the way, a woman who lives on the street did.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘I’m just explaining, in case it looks like I’m out to gain notoriety or some sort of fame by proxy. The only attention I really want is Gemma’s.’
‘I didn’t think that, and I don’t mind who called us – a story is a story.’ Ellie glanced along the street. It was an unremarkable row of red-brick terraced houses, much like many rows in the north of England – some crumbling, some decked out with the latest mod cons – all unique and quirky despite the uniformity of their build. ‘Have many of the residents been out to see you?’
‘Not yet. But it’s early and people haven’t got in from work. I expect somebody will have something to say when they do.’
‘That doesn’t bother you?’
He shrugged. ‘If I chose an easy task that wouldn’t really prove anything to Gemma, would it?’
‘Why Constance Street?’
‘Because this is where we first met. She dropped a tenner as she walked along. I picked it up and ran after her…’ He grinned at the memory. ‘Got her number while I was at it.’
‘Cute. Does she live on this street?’
‘Across town.’
‘Do you think she’ll notice you’re even here then?’
His grin returned. ‘She will now you’re reporting it. And it just feels like the right place, y’know?’
‘Not really. But this is your party.’ Ellie paused as she held him in a carefully measured gaze. ‘So, what’s so special about her? Why all this?’
‘What’s so special about anyone? We can’t help who we fall in love with.’
‘How long do you plan to wait here for her?’
Worth Waiting For: A heart-warming and feel-good romantic comedy Page 2