Another Way

  Oliver shook with laughter. ‘Honestly, Ellie, fancy saying only for insensitive property developers.’

  Jill came flying in, having managed to get rid of the umpteenth call from friends who had watched the programme and wanted to let Ellie know how much they enjoyed it.

  ‘I like that Max Culver,’ she said. ‘Dead dishy. Does he know you-know-who?’

  Taking this as a reference to Theo, Ellie nodded. ‘Staying with him for the weekend. Often does, apparently.’

  ‘Well, he certainly knows the area well enough,’ remarked Jill, handing Ellie a drink. ‘Nice touch that, making a movie director talk about solitary walks and time to think. I noticed you managed to get in that you too loved Willetts Bay Beach. Hoping to run into him?

  ‘Which reminds me,’ she said, ducking to avoid the cushion Ellie threw at her, ‘the twins are now clamouring to be taken for a walk tomorrow on your favourite stretch of beach, convinced you’re more famous than Madonna.’

  Back down to earth after an evening of fame, Ellie was only too willing to take Chloe and Miles for a walk, giving their parents a well-earned, rare break on Saturday afternoon.

  Straight after lunch next day, she went in search of the children. Minutes later, warmly wrapped up in parkas and wellingtons with the twins arguing about who was to carry the bright red frisbee they had insisted on taking, all three set off for the nearby Willetts Bay, which had just enough clusters of rocks and inlets to make an adventure out of their walk.

  Ellie was uneasily aware that, caught up in a whole new way of life dashing between London and Dorset, she wasn’t getting all the exercise she should. Her intentions were always of the best. Hardly a day went by when, if she was in London, she thought of rejoining the Phoenix or, if she was in Willetts Green, she convinced herself that a regular run on the beach in the early morning was exactly what was needed to keep her fit.

  But after an hour racing around with Chloe and Miles, who would exhaust a marathon runner, she decided scaling a mountain twice a day wouldn’t be enough to keep pace with those two. Breathless from an energetic game of ‘It’ and having diffused several quarrels on the subject of cheating, she marched them firmly to the shelter of a rock. She then produced some cartons of fruit juice from the pockets of her jacket and ordered them both to sit down and keep quiet for at least ten minutes.

  After five they were on their feet.

  ‘Okay, but no further than the first line of rocks,’ Ellie said, pointing to a cluster twenty yards from where she was perched, well clear of the grey curling waves that were crashing on to the shore, dragging grey fingers of foam back to meet the next swell of the tide. They didn’t need a second bidding and raced off on to the sand.

  Gathering her jacket tightly around her, Ellie sat on the top of a rock where she could see them playing, hugging her knees under her chin, savouring the salty air and the sharp wind that had whipped her hair out of its pony tail, making her face damp with salt spray.

  For once Miles and Chloe seemed to be in perfect accord with each other, digging furiously in the soft sand for treasure, and Ellie grabbed the chance to relax and let her mind wander. The meeting that morning had not been as well attended as she had hoped. She had prepared herself to be sympathetic to Oliver and Joe McPhee, but to her surprise neither seemed daunted by the fact that only about twenty people had turned up.

  To her amazement a middle-aged man and his wife, who had been sitting together at the back of the hall, sought her out after the meeting and Ellie had the oddest idea that she knew him.

  He was grey-haired, with a wispy beard and twinkling blue eyes, yet she just couldn’t place him. His wife, a plump motherly-looking woman, was smiling anxiously at Ellie as her husband extended his hand to her.

  ‘You probably don’t remember me at all,’ he said courteously. ‘My name is Maurice Middleton. I heard you on the radio.’

  Ellie smiled in delight. Maurice. Of course. She greeted him and his wife warmly and was really not that surprised to see him.

  ‘Just wanted to do our bit,’ he said. ‘Let us know when you’re having the march down the high street, won’t you?’

  Ellie introduced him to Oliver and Joe, and was inwardly delighted when she heard them invite Maurice to come up to Delcourt for a strategy meeting.

  Carol Fallon, Ellie noticed, was another supporter and she was a surprise. Much younger than Ellie had expected, she was also much more attractive. Ellie had visualized a middle-aged woman and for some reason she had imagined her to be a bit common.

  Carol was none of those things. Forceful, yes. And as Joe said, not slow to speak her mind, but at around five feet two with only a smattering of grey in her dark bob of hair, she had arrived wearing a tweed hacking jacket over jeans and a Black Watch tartan scarf slung loosely around her neck.

  Close to, she betrayed signs that her fortieth birthday was some way behind her, but she had an energy and vitality that proclaimed a much younger woman. Clearly her relationship with Joe went back a long time and it was not really surprising to hear that she was joining him and his son for lunch.

  It could not be said that she actually apologized to Ellie for being so brisk — well, rude — to her on Sandy Barlow’s programme, but just appeared to take it for granted that Ellie had been the author of her own misfortune and that she had to expect these things being in the public eye.

  In fact Ellie was finding the public eye just a bit too intrusive and fame, no matter how local, was still unnerving for her.

  As they walked back along the village high street towards their cars, Oliver, Ellie and Jill to head for Delcourt, Joe for a lunch date with his younger son (must be a weekend for sons, thought Ellie, wondering how Clive was getting on with his two in Dublin), Joe was remarkably cheerful.

  ‘Considering there is no immediate decision going to be made, I think it’s a good barometer for what interest there will be when the danger day draws close.’ He gave her a hug. ‘Have faith, lassie. And I think I’ll leave you here, looks like a couple of fans approaching,’ and he disappeared with a huge grin on his face as Ellie, scarlet with embarrassment, signed two autograph books proffered to her by a couple of giggling schoolgirls.

  At that point, sitting snugly on her rock gazing out to sea, Ellie’s gentle meanderings over her new busy life were brought to a halt. Miles chose that moment to come running back asking for his frisbee. Ellie threw it to him and settled back against the rock, pulling up the hood of her parka.

  It was so comfortable there. Cold, but comfortable. She squinted up at the sky, decided that she could risk ten more minutes before the rain came on and wriggled her back against the unyielding rock to a more agreeable position.

  No longer was she haunted by her old life. Hadn’t been for weeks, so what was it that had made her say yes to Ian Willoughby’s offer?

  ‘I’d say you’re trying to prove a point — that no-one but you thinks is necessary,’ Gemma had told her.

  Dumping the sleeping Amy into Ellie’s lap, she’d begun collecting up bottles and nappies and carting them away to her cluttered kitchen.

  ‘Perhaps you need to get it out of your system, lay the ghost,’ she’d said, returning with steaming mugs of coffee.

  Amy had stirred in Ellie’s arms and she’d moved the sleeping child to her shoulder, gently rocking her until she settled.

  ‘Maybe I do. But I think it has more to do with wanting to be able to prove it wasn’t me that was at fault, it was Jerome’s misjudgement. But you know, Gem,’ she’d said, carefully replacing her coffee on the table and squinting down at the now peaceful baby on her shoulder, ‘it’s also got so much more to do with not having to rely on any one person or organization ever again.’

  Gemma had looked mockingly at her.

  ‘Knock it off, Ellie, you want to score a point — and,’ she’d said, removing her daughter from Ellie’s shoulder and laying her gently in the wicker basket by her feet, ‘I can’t say I blame you. Don’t keep thinking you’ve
got to behave like a saint the whole time, just because they behaved like monsters.’

  Gemma’s frank appraisal of her motives made Ellie grin and she let her mind wander to Clive.

  Clive, who had invaded her life, brought her alive again, who made her laugh and openly adored her, and who had given her the courage to be herself, now occupied a special place in her heart. And she loved him.

  Loved him, yes, how could she not? Clive, who had taught her to enjoy sex, to cease burdening it with commitment and forever, who had loved her for herself?

  She was certain he loved her too. He said so often. She hadn’t even tried to tidy him up, but that only made him laugh delightedly, and when he rang — as he had done twice in the six weeks she had known him — to cancel an outing because his sons had asked to see him, she had envied them, but only because her own father would not have put her first.

  The one thing she had noticed was that Clive never said he loved her when they were in bed. But then nor had she.

  It occurred to her as she idly watched the twins, arguing over a pile of shells on a mountain of sand which Ellie could hear Miles shrieking was a space station, that for two people having such fun, so completely at ease with each other, who both made a living out of writing, they were being awfully cautious with words. It was as far as she got. Quite how she knew something was wrong, she was never afterwards able to say.

  She hadn’t taken her eyes from the children for a moment. She had been carefully monitoring the activities of a large dog of indeterminate breed who was circling them, moving nearer, its owner having little success in calling it to heel.

  Bored with digging, Miles had started throwing the frisbee. The dog moved like a fox towards the child. Ellie was instantly on her feet, starting to run towards them, calling a warning as she saw the dog pounce on the frisbee, wrenching it from Miles, grasp and race with it towards the sea, Miles in hot pursuit.

  ‘Miles, Miles!’ she shouted. ‘Leave it, come back. Chloe, get back!’

  She was scrambling down the rocks, hair flying, streaking across the beach, as Miles, suddenly aware of the danger he was in, stood rooted, frozen with fright as the waves crashed around him, and the dog, having lost the frisbee, turned its attention to the child.

  Paws up, body twisting, it hurled itself at the terrified boy, sinking its teeth into his sleeve, pulling him backwards into the pounding waves.

  Dimly aware that Chloe was safe, if petrified, and being held by the woman owner of the dog, Ellie was already pulling off her parka, no thought for anything but Miles. Blinded by salt spray and the wind, she plunged into the foam and grabbed the small boy, pushing him clear of the dog and the waves, using her own body to shield him from the howling animal.

  ‘Move, Miles, move,’ she yelled above the noise of the waves as the dog turned its attention to Ellie.

  A swift glance over her shoulder was all Ellie had time for. Miles was now on the safety of the sand with nothing more than a fright and wet jeans to cope with as the dog leapt up at her, sending her plunging with shuddering force under the next wave, which crashed in a swollen rage on the shore and sent her sprawling.

  Her hands frozen, her face numb, she rolled helplessly, defenceless against the next roaring wave, as it gathered force to swamp her, and swiftly engulfed her in a powerful shock of weight which knocked her almost senseless.

  She felt rather than saw a strong arm grab her around the waist and haul her firmly back on to the beach. The shrieks from the dog’s owner finally penetrated the ears of the uncontrolled animal and he ran off as Ellie sank to her knees, waves of nausea washing over her. She was aware of the man’s figure crouching beside her, asking her if she was all right, heard him calmly reassure the twins and curtly tell the dog owner that her help wasn’t needed and she’d be better employed keeping her dog under control.

  ‘Okay, sit still and don’t move,’ an unbelievably familiar voice told the now silent children, as the dog’s owner feebly protested that the animal was only playing before obeying the icy command of the man who had appeared from nowhere, and moved away.

  ‘You’ll feel better in a minute,’ said the same voice, pushing her head between her knees as her whole body convulsed. ‘Gently, take it easy.’

  Opening her eyes, Ellie raised her head slowly, taking in the man’s jeans tucked into green wellingtons, drenched to the waist. Her eyes travelled upwards to a dark blue Guernsey sweater over a blue denim shirt.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked weakly, gazing straight into Theo Stirling’s face.

  ‘I came to find you,’ he said, holding her shaking body against his side. ‘I wanted to talk to you and you very obligingly dropped several clues on television last night where you might be. I had just parked at the top of the cliff when I saw you had decided to take a dip.’

  ‘Miles?’ she croaked through clenched, chattering teeth. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘Take a look for yourself,’ Theo said calmly, indicating behind her to where Chloe and Miles were already beginning an argument about whose fault it all was. ‘I assume they’re Oliver’s children. Frankly, you’re the one who’s come off the worst,’ he remarked. She could only nod. ‘C’mon. Let’s get you all home.’

  ‘‘Thank you,’ she whispered, her teeth chattering uncontrollably. ‘I must get the children home... and you’re drenched. You must be frozen as well.’

  ‘To the bone. Okay, you two,’ he said cheerfully to the twins. ‘Bet you can’t get to the top without a carry…’

  ‘Course we can,’ they said scornfully and set off to where he had parked his Range Rover, fighting about who was going to sit where and Ellie miserable and desperately cold bringing up the rear.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Oliver, when he and Jill returned and heard about the afternoon’s adventure, was inclined to phone the police and have the dog’s owner prosecuted.

  ‘Not much point,’ argued Ellie, sitting in a dressing gown in the kitchen, sipping hot chocolate. ‘When it comes down to it, the dog didn’t bite Miles or me, just managed to get us both soaking wet. Anyway, I blame myself. I shouldn’t have let them move a yard from me.’

  ‘Oh, rubbish,’ said Jill. ‘I would have done the same, and I’m their mother. You can’t keep them strapped to your side. There are so few things that small children can do these days that we once took for granted, and playing twenty yards from you on the beach is one of the rare freedoms they can enjoy. You seem to forget you were there in seconds. More to the point, they’ve forgotten it already. You’re the one who’s going to have the nightmares.’

  ‘Well, actually,’ said Oliver wryly, ‘we’re all in a bit of a fix because I at least am now indebted to the man we’re pledged to see off.’

  The three of them exchanged silent glances. It was Jill who spoke first, Oliver and Ellie looking so like her own twins that she almost laughed at the consternation on their faces.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said practically. ‘It has to be done even if he is the enemy, and I genuinely do want to thank him for coming to your rescue. And you do as well, don’t you, Oliver?’

  ‘You know I do,’ he said. ‘Just bloody embarrassing. Oh God, okay. Let’s get it over with.’

  ‘Shall I come with you?’

  ‘No, you need to get warmed up and have a rest. I’ll tell Jenny to chain the twins to the wall until we get back, and I’m only half joking,’ said Oliver as he unhitched his coat from behind the door, handing Jill hers. So they went off to be grateful to a man they were far from feeling well disposed towards.

  Ellie was relieved to have been spared that. Leaning back on the mountain of cushions, she closed her eyes and with little hope that she could sort out the jumble in her head, tried to make some sense of her feelings.

  A hot bath and Jill’s ever practical approach to dramas had done much to calm her jangled nerves, but the day’s events had done little to give her peace of mind.

  If only she didn’t feel so uneasy every time she met
him, Ellie told herself, it would be so much easier to see him for what he was. Childhood memories could still unnerve her. Adolescent recollections of days without a proper meal, days when villagers walked by awkwardly avoiding her and Oliver. Frightening memories of the days when the Stirling family held the Carter family’s fragile destiny in their callous hands.

  And then she thought of Alison. Alison, who of all of them had remained calm in the face of disaster, gathered their pitiful resources, their broken spirits and shown them a way out and had refused to join in their rage at the Stirlings.

  ‘And that is going to help, how?’ Ellie remembered her saying. ‘We need to concentrate on moving on. Now, Oliver, are you strong enough to help me start the car? Battery flat again. C’mon Ellie, you can help. Yes you can. Better than staring at the door as though a ghost is going to fly in. Get your coat.’

  Alison. How strange. How sane, she reflected. She’d never given it much thought before. So like Jill.

  In the Range Rover on the short drive home, Theo had made no attempt to talk to her, just firmly but cheerfully insisting the twins wore seat belts and explaining why dogs were okay, it was their owners who were usually at fault.

  As she climbed out of the jeep and the twins stormed ahead, shrieking to Jenny to guess what had happened, she turned to Theo and tried to say something that sounded grateful.

  ‘Go on in,’ he said with such concern she almost burst into tears. ‘I’ll telephone later to see how you are.’

  Lifting a hand she held it out to him, but instead of taking it he simply turned her round and pushed her gently towards the house.

  If he would just tell me why he wants the land so badly, Ellie thought, and why they blamed Dad for something he didn’t do, maybe I could understand his motives. He’s so complex. So unpredictable.

  That’s all he is, she told herself firmly. He’s not like Clive. Warm and generous and as uncomplicated as a child.

  Really, she chided herself, I must be going dotty. A deliriously happy few weeks with Clive, a career that had miraculously resurrected itself. Quit while you’re ahead. Phone Clive in Dublin. A quick chat would put her feet firmly back on the ground and rid herself once and for all of a fantasy. Good heavens, she must have been more stunned by that wave than she’d thought.