Elsie’s thoughts drifted away to a time far back in her memories, long before the diagnosis, when a young couple stood at the altar of Grandma Flo’s Methodist church in Hove and made promises to one another. Lucas had insisted on wearing a dark grey Victorian tailcoat, red and grey pinstripe trousers and a tall charcoal velvet top hat – as determined not to conform on this day as much as any – but the emotion in his eyes when he looked at his bride was as old as time itself. Elsie, radiant in a 1920s white lace dress that had once belonged to Jim’s great-aunt, gazed up at her handsome Lucas with a heart so full of love it stole her breath. As the minister declared them husband and wife, Lucas leaned close and whispered, ‘Forever, Elsinore,’ just before he kissed her. There had been so much hope and expectation on that day, so many dreams born and futures foreseen …
Smiling at the faces of her choir, Elsie remembered the newest message from the silk box:
I love you because you can always see what’s possible, before it even is.
xx
Listening to the voices of The Sundaes now, Elsie realised that, despite the setbacks, fallouts and mishaps, the choir standing beside her was the choir she had envisaged from the beginning. When their song ended, a brief moment of silence ensued before the room erupted with enthusiastic applause. The Sundaes took several bows, surprised and overjoyed by the rush of adrenaline that surged from their audience’s reaction.
Woody and Elsie took another bow and Woody grabbed the microphone.
‘Thank you, people, for coming out to support us tonight. Irene was a beautiful lady and we hope we’ve done her justice.’
He passed the microphone to Elsie, who had just been handed a piece of paper by a grinning Nick.
‘I’m thrilled to announce that tonight’s concert has raised six hundred and fifty pounds for Cancer Research UK. I think you should give yourselves a round of applause.’
The audience did so and Elsie led The Sundaes off the stage. Elsie wiped tears from her face as she watched her choir and Woody held out his arms to her.
‘Come here, angel.’
As they were hugging, a loud shout split the air.
‘BITCH!’
Elsie broke the hug just in time to see Cher launching herself at Jeannette as people pulled back to watch. Shocked, Elsie rushed over and grabbed Cher’s shoulders, yanking her back from the furious choirmistress as she kicked and screamed obscenities at her. Jeannette rushed towards Cher, but was halted by a strong pair of arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her bodily away.
‘Cher! Stop this!’ Elsie shouted.
‘It’s her fault,’ Cher spat back. ‘She was coming on to Jake!’
‘I think you’ll find it was him propositioning me!’ Jeannette returned. ‘Just like the good old days, hey Jake?’
Jake stood in the middle of them, upturned palms signalling his surrender, completely out of his depth.
‘Let me go, Elsie, so help me I’ll rip that woman’s head right off!’ As Cher struggled against Elsie’s hold, Elsie saw the face of Jeannette’s restrainer.
‘Take her home, Jake,’ Torin growled, ‘this isn’t the time or the place.’
‘Don’t look at me,’ Jake replied. ‘She’s gone nuts.’
‘So much for the caring boyfriend, eh, Cher?’ Jeannette shouted as she tried to wrench herself from Torin’s grip. ‘Jake Long will never change. You think you’re the only one he’s seeing? Dream on!’
Cher broke free and lunged for Jeannette, just as Woody grabbed her. ‘Girl, she’s not worth it. I’m taking you home.’ He looked at Elsie. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?’
Elsie straightened her dress. ‘Yes, thanks. Cher, go home and calm down.’
Bursting into tears, Cher held her hand out to Elsie. ‘Oh Els, I’m sorry …’
Incandescent anger firing through her, Elsie couldn’t bring herself to look at Cher. ‘Go home.’ Turning her attention to Jeannette, she shook her head. ‘I don’t know how, when you knew what tonight was all about, you could let this happen. You call yourself a professional and you constantly tell everyone how superior your choir is. Well, I might be a confirmed amateur, but I would never let my choir see me acting the way you just did.’ She let out a sigh as Torin released Jeannette. ‘I think you should leave.’
Knowing she had met her match in Elsie, Jeannette snatched her pashmina scarf from the floor where it had fallen and, followed by her shocked choir members, left the pub. Breathing heavily, Elsie and Torin faced each other as the onlookers dispersed.
‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure. Are you OK? You were incredible just then …’ He moved towards her and for a moment Elsie thought he was going to offer her a hug.
‘Elsie, what happened? Come here.’ Olly appeared beside her and gathered her into his arms. As she accepted his embrace, she saw Torin step back. He smiled at her and turned to Jake, who was downing a large whisky by the bar looking as if he’d just been caught in a buffalo stampede.
Elsie broke the hug and stepped back, her mind elsewhere. ‘I need to check that Irene’s family are OK,’ she said, still smarting from the scene Cher and Jeannette had caused. A strange expression on his face, Olly let her pass.
Lyn was gathering her things together when Elsie walked over.
‘Lyn, I’m so, so sorry. I have no idea what happened there.’
To her relief, Lyn grinned back. ‘Don’t worry, Mum would’ve loved it. She adored drama – whenever there was a family row at Christmas she would be right in the middle of it, laughing her head off.’
‘But for it to happen after such a great evening …’
‘Trust me, Elsie, this is the best way to round off a wonderful night.’ She placed her hand on Elsie’s arm. ‘You’ve done her proud tonight. Thank you.’
Elsie turned back to smile at Olly, but he was no longer standing where she had left him. She wandered around the pub for a few minutes, even checking outside to see if he was waiting for her there. But there was no sign of him. She reasoned he must have had to go but didn’t want to interrupt her conversation with Lyn. No problem, she told herself, I’ll text him later.
Exhausted by the events of the evening, she walked slowly back to the side of the stage to pack her keyboard away. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Daisy.
‘Hey, little sis, that was some impressive crisis management back there.’
‘I’m just so angry at them both. What were they thinking?’
‘They’re idiots. But they’ll know not to cross you again after that speech of yours.’ She hugged Elsie. ‘I’m so proud of you, have I told you?’
Elsie gave a weary smile. ‘I’m proud of us. We sounded amazing tonight.’
‘Yes, we did. Now how about I help you pack away and then you come back to mine tonight? André sent a bottle of champagne for us and I can order a takeaway. Bit of Maynard sister quality time. What do you reckon?’
Grateful for the chance to spend time in neutral surroundings, Elsie agreed. ‘I think that’s a fantastic idea. You’re most definitely on!’
Later that evening, relaxing in Daisy’s effortlessly gorgeous apartment, Elsie raised her glass. ‘I propose a toast: to Irene. For being full of surprises.’
Daisy grinned. ‘To Irene!’
But Irene Quinn’s surprises were far from over – as Elsie was about to discover.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A big ask …
Next morning, Elsie woke early. Wrapping herself in the white fluffy towelling robe that Daisy had laid out for her, she walked from the guest room into the large open-plan kitchen and living room overlooking the seafront. Daisy had already made a pot of coffee and Elsie could hear the sound of the shower in the back of the apartment as she poured herself a mug. Taking it, she slid open the concertina-folding doors that wrapped around the front of the property and walked out onto the beechwood balcony, inhaling the tang of fresh sea air. Yachts were already out sailing across the deep blue water and the un
dulating buzz of early morning jet-skiers floated across the sea.
Elsie had lived all her life with the sea on her doorstep, yet it was only when Lucas became ill that she truly appreciated its beauty. There was something eternal about the never-ending movement of the ocean, its steady rhythm a constant she could rely on. When so much else in her life had been shaken, the sea remained the same – and became a sanctuary for Elsie. She could think here, let her mind relax as she experienced the beauty of the ocean, and be alone with her thoughts for a few precious moments before heading back to the man she loved, to face the challenges renewed.
Lucas had always loved the sea and, long before cancer gate-crashed their lives, he would insist they walked along the beach most days. He had learned to sail as a youngster, taught by his father who was a racing yachtsman in his day, and had become quite proficient. When they first started going out, he would often invite her out on the family yacht at weekends, showing off his mariner skills as he helped his father to unfurl the sails and steer the vessel. When his illness began to limit his strength, they walked to the same bench on the promenade every day, come rain or shine, so that he could watch the movement of the sea that he loved so much.
Elsie gazed out at the sea and for a moment it was as if Lucas was by her side. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the memory of him, a deep peace welling up within her. Instinctively, she curled her left thumb over the third finger of her left hand and felt the drop of her heart as it touched bare skin. Removing her wedding ring had been by far the hardest part of his instructions, but she knew it was what he’d wanted. It now lay in a velvet box in the top drawer of her kitchen dresser, not that she ever looked at it. Knowing it was there was enough – and, as the months passed by, she could feel herself moving further away from the woman she had been when she wore it.
‘Morning, gorgeous.’
Elsie turned to see Daisy walking out onto the balcony deck, drying her long blonde hair with a towel. ‘Hey, sis.’
‘Sleep well?’
‘I always sleep well here. It’s like living in a magazine room set – I don’t know anyone else who puts quite so many cushions on a bed.’
Daisy laughed. ‘Oh, stop it. It’s just my style.’
‘You’re such an interior designer.’
‘I am. So, if I can tempt you into my super-luxe, on-trend, bespoke kitchen, I’ll make us a feature-worthy bacon sandwich. Deal?’
Elsie grinned. ‘Deal.’
When Elsie arrived at work on Monday morning, Cher was waiting for her. She looked dreadful, the dark circles under her eyes and her lank, lifeless black hair scraped into a limp ponytail so at odds with her usual polished appearance.
‘Hi, Elsie.’
‘Morning.’ Elsie walked past to put her bag in the kitchen.
Cher followed her, wringing her hands. ‘I’m so sorry, Els. I was an idiot on Saturday night.’
Elsie tied her apron round her waist and said nothing. She still hadn’t really worked out what she was going to say to Cher, the memory of the fight still raw.
‘I feel awful. I haven’t slept. I don’t know what came over me – I saw that woman all over Jake and I just went off the edge. I know it was wrong, trust me, I do.’
Keep talking, Pettinger. Elsie pulled a wire tray from the dishwasher and began to unload it.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, say something, Elsie! I’m busting my gut here.’
‘You knew how important that night was.’
‘Of course I did …’
‘Not just for me and the choir but for Irene’s family. It was Irene’s night.’
Cher hung her head. ‘I feel dreadful about it.’
Elsie stared at her friend. ‘I’m not saying it was all your fault, OK? But you should trust Jake enough to not be threatened by some old flame – emphasis on the old …’
Cher looked up with a nervous smile.
‘… who rocks up and tries to take advantage. Jake was there for you, remember? When he had to fly to Scotland next day – even then, he came to support the choir that meets in your café. What does that tell you, hmm?’
‘I really am sorry, Els. Forgive me?’
Shaking her head, Elsie hugged her. ‘Of course. But do it again and you die, understand?’
‘Thank you. Maybe now I can sleep.’
‘So, how did you leave things with Jake? He looked pretty shell-shocked when Woody took you home.’
Cher groaned and picked up a handful of cutlery from the dishwasher tray. ‘He didn’t call till yesterday afternoon, by which time I’d convinced myself I’d blown it with him. Anyway, we talked and it’s all good again. He was angry that I didn’t trust him enough, which I completely understand. I’ve just got to hope I don’t run into that Burton woman again any time soon.’
‘And Woody got you back safely?’
‘Oh, he was really sweet. I mean, I was a mess by the time I got home. But he made me a cup of tea and sat with me for over an hour until I’d calmed down enough. Not very rock’n’roll at all. Quite surprising, really.’
‘He’s a good heart.’ Elsie switched on the coffee machine and emptied fresh beans into the grinder. ‘You know he has the hots for you?’
‘Oh, shush,’ Cher replied, the pinkness of her cheeks betraying her true reaction. ‘A little bit like that gorgeous designer friend of yours. Besotted with you, pure and simple.’
Elsie shook her head. ‘I’m not sure …’
‘Not sure about what? What is there to be sure about? The guy is a walking oil painting, totally gorgeous, laid-back, fun …’
‘And currently not returning my calls,’ Elsie added.
‘What? Since when?’
Elsie sighed and flopped onto the stool by the counter. ‘Since the concert. I’m not sure what happened: one minute he was hugging me, and the next he disappeared. He hasn’t replied to my texts and I only get his voicemail when I try to ring him.’
Cher’s brow furrowed. ‘Perhaps he’s been busy? Or he could have been away with his kitesurfing friends yesterday?’
‘Maybe.’
Cher nodded at the café phone. ‘Call him now, from here. If he is ignoring you – which I highly doubt – he won’t recognise this number and at least you’ll have a chance to catch him off-guard.’
Cher was right – she was overreacting. But the memory of Daisy’s words a few weeks back and the way he’d disappeared on Saturday night were enough to make her worry. Fetching her mobile, she found the number and dialled from the retro phone mounted on the wall behind the counter.
Sure enough, Olly answered.
‘It’s Elsie – don’t hang up.’
A long sigh came from the other end of the line. ‘Why would I hang up?’ His words should have comforted her, but his tone made her nervous.
‘Can I see you? At lunchtime?’
‘Fine. Where?’
‘On the beach. By the Fortune of War pub. About twelve-thirty?’
‘OK. But I can’t stay long.’
Olly was sitting on the bank of shingle about fifty yards from the pub when Elsie arrived on the beach. Around him – at curiously even intervals along the ridge – was an assortment of local couples, enjoying the view of powerful waves pounding the shingle shoreline further down the beach. As soon as Elsie saw his expression she knew all was not well.
‘Olly?’
He looked away.
Panic began to squeeze the edges of her insides. ‘Olly, talk to me, please.’
Slowly, he raised his eyes to hers and immediately she wished she hadn’t seen what they carried. Gone was the smile; the easy comfort of his gaze had become one she didn’t recognise – hurt, disappointment and cold resignation. ‘I don’t understand you,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. ‘One minute I think you like me, that we have something together, and the next … You can’t keep doing this to me, Elsie. You can’t keep me waiting while you decide whether or not you’re ready.’
‘I’m – I di
dn’t think I was …’
‘On Saturday night – after the Cher and Jeannette spat – you pulled away from me as if I was annoying you.’
Elsie stared at him, heart crashing against her chest. ‘I didn’t. I had to check that Lyn was all right. I can’t believe that you thought …’
‘It doesn’t matter what I thought, Elsie. The point is, it’s not the only time. We meet, we have fun, we’re close and then – then you pull back and I don’t know where I stand again. I know I said it was OK to be friends, but don’t you see that the more time we spend together the more I’m falling for you?’
‘Olly …’
He looked away again and for once Elsie was glad of it. ‘This is a risk for you, I know; I get it. And I’ve struggled with how I feel because I wanted to give you space, let you work it out in your own time. But if you aren’t into this – into us – then I need to know. I need to know I’m not wasting my time hoping for something that will never happen.’
Taken aback by his words, Elsie scrambled for an adequate response. What did he want her to say? In many ways she couldn’t understand her own reticence – after all, wasn’t the point of dating to jump in and see what happened? But then if Olly understood her – if he really cared for her – surely he could see that this was her first attempt at moving on and, therefore, doubts and fears were bound to rear their heads?
The thunder of waves battering the shingle below them matched the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears as she stood, the wind catching the edges of her scarf as she did so. A large flock of seagulls screeched by overhead, soaring out towards the blackened, stranded skeleton of what was once West Pier, and Elsie felt anger rising from a place deep within.
‘I’m sorry I’ve been a disappointment to you. And I’m sorry you’ve had to wait for me. But I never asked you to. I don’t expect you to understand me, Olly, I hardly understand myself yet. I have no comparative reference for this – no timeframe I can follow.’
Surprised by the force of her response, Olly’s expression immediately softened. ‘Hey, I know – I know that …’
‘Maybe I should know what I want now, but I don’t. I think perhaps it’s best for both of us if I just stay out of your life.’ Swallowing back her tears she turned and began to crunch back across the beach towards the promenade steps. She was hurt and angry, although more so by her own inability to take the step she knew she should be taking than by anything Olly had said. He was justified in how he felt – most people in his situation would have complained long before this. As she hurried away, her fingers closed around the latest message from Lucas’ box in her pocket:
When I Fall in Love Page 23