“Did the plastic surgeon have any further thoughts about the scar after the surgery?” Ellie didn’t know whether she was overstepping the mark asking a relative stranger these rather personal questions, but Holly answered immediately.
Her smile became a beam. “He doesn’t think she’ll have one. A ragged cut is never a good thing, apparently. The girl twisting the snow with a piece of glass in caused it, but thankfully, it wasn’t as deep as he first suspected. Phil and I gave a big sigh of relief when he relayed that piece of news.”
Ellie felt a wave of happiness course through her body. Leah’s prognosis had obviously been playing on her mind. “I’m so relieved for you all,” said Ellie. When she glanced down, her hand was on her abdomen, her tell in times of alleviation.
Holly interrupted her thought. “Unfortunately, it’s not good news about your book, I’m afraid. The supplier said it’s out of print, but they are trying to source a copy from elsewhere. I’m not sure how long it would have taken them to tell us if the enquiry hadn’t been chased up.”
Ellie pursed her lips before she spoke. “Don’t worry. My mum had recommended the book. When she was nursing, it was their go-to book. Obviously, times have changed. I promised her I would read it. I just didn’t say when,” she said with an impish grin.
The door opened, and for a fleeting moment, Ellie’s heart sank. For a split second, she thought her mother had changed her mind, and Ellie began to panic. Obviously, her face reflected her thoughts.
Holly let out a belly laugh. “Oh, my word. The look on your face was priceless when that door opened.”
“Yes, well, you don’t know my mother,” said Ellie. A young mother leading a toddler by the hand approached the counter, a harassed look on the mother’s face. “I’ll let you get on.” She smiled at the young woman who took her place at the counter and nodded to Holly, mouthing, ‘thanks’ as she walked away.
A rather sullen-faced Sue met Ellie at the counter, which was a surprise because she was normally quite jovial. “Why have you got a face like a smacked bum?” Ellie asked, forcing a smile to Sue’s lips.
“That obvious, huh?” replied Sue.
Ellie nodded. “I’m afraid so. Anything I can help you with?”
Sue shook her head as she began assembling Ellie’s drink. “I’m afraid not. It’s accounts time. I find it really depressing. My accountant has a way of putting pressure on me. Although I can tell you the heavy fine last year did come as a shock. My profits took a hefty hit.” Her face looked glum.
“I’ll tell you what I do,” Ellie answered, eyeing up the coconut cake and pointing at it. “Carry around a plastic bag in your handbag and put all your receipts in there. You only have to print off your bank statements and voila! Job done. So simple, but so effective.”
“Ellie! You are manna from heaven. I shall do that from now on. That will save me getting stressed out and turning the house upside down every year.” She roared with laughter. She pushed the drink and cake towards Ellie. “On the house for the advice.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Ellie, feeling rather sheepish at Sue’s offer, as she laid the money on the counter. She grabbed her drink and cake before Sue could argue and walked away.
The café wasn’t quite as full as it had been a fortnight previously, but Ellie chose the same table she’d sat at with her mother on the last occasion. It was only when she had taken her first mouthful of cake did she notice Leah Simons walking towards her. Her arms were full of the biggest bouquet of flowers Ellie had ever set her eyes on.
When Leah got to the table, she thrust the flowers at Ellie. “These are for you,” she said proudly, “for being so nice to me last week and looking after me until my mum got there. If it hadn’t been for you…” Leah’s eyes brimmed with tears at the recollection. She placed her hand gently on the dressing on her face.
Ellie looked at the bouquet carefully, hoping the action would mask her own tears forming. “Leah, they are beautiful. Thank you so much. When I get home, I’m going to take this red rose,” Ellie said pointing at it, “and I’m going to press it between the pages of a book. Then I will always remember you. Would you like to join me for a drink and cake?”
“No, thank you. My friend will be here in a minute. She’s coming straight from school, and I’m going to her house for tea.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. At least it will get you away from your mum for a while.” Ellie put her hand to her mouth and tittered. She thought she was in the same position as Leah.
“I love her, and she’s my mum and all, but sometimes…”
Ellie lifted up her hand to stop Leah saying any more, but smiled at her to say she understood.
“Leah!” was a cry from the entrance to the café.
“I think your friend is here, Leah. Go on, off you go, and thank you so much for the flowers.”
Leah tried to smile, but she winced and lifted her hand to her cheek again. She walked away with a little wave in Ellie’s direction. A few seconds later, she came running back. “I forgot to say, mum has left you a note tucked inside the flap.” She smiled sheepishly and ran off to her friend.
Ellie’s hand shook as she retrieved the note from inside the flowers.
Ellie, I thought I’d make a bigger gesture than just to thank you for helping Leah out of her tight spot. So being presumptive, I’ve made a booking at Intimo for 7.30 on Saturday evening. I hope you like Italian food! If you have a prior arrangement, don’t want to go, or would prefer somewhere else, just let me know. Below are my contact details. I do hope you can make it. Phil has Leah this weekend, so don’t bring the car. Wine is in order—it’s Phil’s treat!
Below, Holly had placed a smiley face.
Inside, Ellie panicked a little, but in a good way. When she felt extreme emotion, it always spilt over into a panic that gripped her insides.
Should she stop on the way out and give her answer? What would her answer be?
She had half a latte and nearly a full piece of coconut cake to make her decision.
4
In the end, Ellie’s decision to speak to Holly was out of her hands, as Holly was nowhere around when she left the library. Once she was home, she had sent a simple text to the mobile number provided. “Love to.”
Ellie had made her decision, even though, during the last two days, she had considered cancelling many times. She wondered at her insecurity. She used to be brimming with confidence… so gregarious. Nothing ever fazed her, including the decision to have a child. What was it about Holly that made Ellie second-guess everything?
Intimo… intimate. She’d heard good things about the restaurant, mainly from her mother. Michael Devlin had secured the restaurant for the evening on their day off. Money obviously did talk. He had wined and dined the library committee, book experts, local authors, a few chosen friends, and some family. They had rearranged the tables to accommodate the large group, as Intimo prided itself on the intimate atmosphere of tables for two. Lovers from far and wide came to eat in the restaurant, grabbing an opportunity to be alone for a few hours. Ellie wondered how many men had gone down on one knee at the side of those tables and proposed marriage. She smiled at the thought.
Finally, Ellie hauled herself out of the bath after an hour’s soak in her favourite fragrance. As she stepped onto the bathmat, a stab of doubt hit her sharply in her psyche. What are you doing? Remember, your son is dead—this is not a cause for celebration. She knew she hadn’t thought of him in the last few hours, and her guilt was debilitating. It was no good. The thought of going out and having a good time made her feel sick.
She went downstairs and grabbed her phone, ready to text her cancellation. The envelope icon showed on her homepage. She double tapped. The message was from Holly. “Really looking forward to tonight. See you at half seven,” it read.
Tears welled in Ellie’s eyes. She didn’t have the heart to say she wasn’t going now, as it was obvious from the text that Holly wanted to go. Instead of writing she couldn
’t go and come up with some lame excuse, Ellie’s reply was… “Can’t wait!”
Ellie took the opened bottle of chardonnay from the fridge and poured herself a small glass. Her hands were trembling. Half past five on a Saturday afternoon and you’re guzzling wine. It can’t be good, she thought to herself. She gazed out the window into the dark skies, hazy with evening mist. Come on, Alex, if you think this meal is a good idea, come and tell me. She searched the garden and surrounding trees for any sign of the little bird and felt a deep disappointment when it didn’t appear. Was this his punishment for not thinking of him? She took a large gulp from her glass and wiped the unchecked tears from her face with the back of her hand. It was unfair to cancel so late in the day, so she promised her son aloud she wouldn’t go again. The thought didn’t cheer her.
The taxi dropped Ellie off at the restaurant at twenty past seven. She had hoped it would be closer to the exact time because she didn’t want to be the first to arrive. Imagine the horror of being stood up at the last minute, stranded in a place she didn’t know. Would she stay and eat anyway or run away home with her tail between her legs? She lifted her head high and pulled her shoulders back as she approached the door, then tapped the side of her handbag. She knew her credit card was inside. She would stay and eat and enjoy the food.
Warm air greeted her when she entered. She hadn’t really had time to get cold, going quickly from home to taxi then taxi to the restaurant, but she was grateful for it anyway. Nothing worse than trying to eat when your teeth are chattering.
As she stood by the small desk, waiting for some acknowledgement, she loosened the top few buttons on her thick, black woollen coat. She’d had it for years, but it still served her for any formal occasion during the winter. Her mother had christened it her funeral coat. Beneath, she wore new tan slacks and a dark brown blouse. She looked around and wondered if she was underdressed. Most of the women looked extremely smart, and their escorts were all wearing suits of some description.
A waiter, taking an order to the kitchen, she assumed, approached her.
Tilting his head to one side, he spoke in broken English with a heavy Italian accent. If they’d wanted the place to appear authentic, his accent had done it. “Yes, madam. Can I help you?” he asked.
His singsong voice made her smile. “Yes, I believe Mrs Simon’s booked a table for seven-thirty.” As the words came out of her mouth, she heard a slight tremor in her words. Perspiration was beginning to form on her brow.
“Yes, madam. Mrs Simons is expecting you. This way, please.” He smiled as he bowed his head, grabbing some menus from the stand on the desk. He made his way off to the left through the two rows of tables, his stout little body swaying as though he was dancing to some music playing in his head.
Ellie looked round to see if she could spot Holly. At the far end of the room, there was a little alcove, just big enough for a table for two and deep enough to shield a couple away from sight from most of the other tables. Intimate, indeed.
At the approach of their footsteps, Holly peeked around the corner of the niche. Her hand stuck out, giving a wave. “Ellie, hi! I’m glad you could make it. Come and sit down,”
Ellie shrugged off her coat, the waiter taking it politely from her hands. He placed it on the back of the chair belonging to the next table, currently unoccupied, and then took the back of Ellie’s chair while she sat down. He retrieved the menus from the crook of his arm and handed them to the two women. After fishing in his trouser pocket, he produced a lighter and lit the small candle in a silver holder. Immediately, a subtle smell of jasmine infused their space.
“I will be back shortly to take your order,” he said with a slight bow of the head.
“Thank you, Lorenzo,” said Holly with a smirk. “We shouldn’t be too long. I promise we’ll choose before we talk.”
He smiled affably and walked away, Ellie following his movements as she peeked around the corner. He disappeared through a door she assumed led to the kitchen. She put her hand to cover her mouth and giggled.
“Sorry,” Ellie said with laughter in her eyes. “I can’t believe the way he walks. He looks as though he’s dancing.”
Holly features changed into a serious mask. “There I was thinking you were looking at his bum.” After a few seconds, she laughed aloud, quickly joined by Ellie. Ellie hoped they hadn’t interrupted any of the other diners, sounding as they did, like two adolescents laughing at a dirty joke. It was so long since she’d laughed with anyone, she felt buoyant.
Holly flapped her menu in front of her face. “Come on, we better make our choices. Lorenzo will be back in a minute. He complained to Phil that he has to wait an age for some people to choose what they were going to eat. Not only that… I’m ravenous. I’ve been saving myself all day.”
Ellie lifted her menu and began perusing it.
“Are you averse to Chianti?” asked Holly hopefully, as she grabbed for the bottle standing on a silver coaster next to the wall that abutted their table.
Ellie shook her head. “Not at all. I drink almost anything except scotch, but I do try not to overdo it. I don’t like the headaches that go with a hangover.”
“I agree with you there,” said Holly. “I hate them too. I seem to do most of my drinking at home these days, so I try to limit myself. Try being the optional word. I don’t want my daughter thinking her mother is a raging alcoholic. So, have you decided what you’d like to eat? Money is no object by the way. It’s Phil’s treat by his way of gratitude, so don’t be put off by the prices.”
“Would you like to share a starter? I’m a savoury fiend, but I’m not sure I could manage a whole starter and a main course.”
Holly nodded. “Good idea, then if we’re not full, we can have a pud too.” She put down the menu and held her hand aloft. “My name is Holly, and I’m a chocoholic.”
Ellie laughed. “Your name is Holly, and you’re a blooming nutcase.”
Holly pursed her lips. “My secret is out. Well, one of them anyway. Do you fancy a platter?” she asked. “We can order lots of goodies then.”
Ellie wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn Holly just changed the subject. “I think I’d like to try the Tartufa and the whitebait. Perhaps we could share some bread, too.”
“Definitely! I’ll go for truffle ricotta, because you can’t have too much truffle, and also, polenta crisps. Shall we share some ciabatta?”
Ellie nodded. “For my main course, I’m having the mussels. I love mussels, but I’ve never had them with sultanas and pine nuts. Sounds delicious.”
“The chef, Simone, is from Liguria. I do believe it’s one of his native dishes. I’m having one too, the sea bass in salt. I’ve had it before, and it’s glorious. I don’t know what herbs they use to stuff the cavity, but the taste is divine. Lorenzo will be a happy man, now we’re done.”
At the mention of his name, Lorenzo magically appeared at the side of their table. Holly repeated their order to him. He smiled all the way through writing down the dishes. He did appear a happy man.
Ellie hadn’t noticed Holly pouring her a drink, but she was grateful for it. It looked like a deeper version of Ribena. Alex loved Ribena, his favourite drink. Ellie couldn’t remember drinking Chianti before. She took a tentative sip, feeling instant warmth in her mouth, and as she swallowed, the flavour of cherries hit her, with a floral aftertaste of violets. There was no bitter after kick as she had with some reds she’d drunk. She nodded her head and lifted the bottle to memorise the name. It would make a change from her usual chardonnay.
“You like it?” asked Holly enquiringly. “If you don’t, I can get something else. It’s not to everyone’s taste, but it does go well with Italian food. You can get some basic versions, but they’re as rough as a badger’s bum. This is good, though, smooth as silk.” She smiled almost apologetically.
“It will do very nicely, thank you,” replied Ellie. She could feel the hit of alcohol in her bloodstream warming parts that hadn’t stirred in
years. At least, she thought it was the alcohol.
“Good. Then while we’re waiting for the food, tell me a little about yourself. I only know you as the woman who comes into the library on a Thursday, sometimes accompanied by her mum. Also, the very kind lady who comforted my child in her hour of need.” Holly raised her glass in salute.
Ellie’s face gave off a rosy glow. “There’s not much to tell really. I have a one-person business, creating interior designs, and I work online and from home. I carry out the practical stuff as and when required.”
Holly was listening intently. “Husband? Children? On the other hand, would you prefer not to talk about your private life? I’m just being nosey really. I’m a thread to needle person, but we can talk about something else.”
“It’s just a little raw for me at the moment. I’m not secretive by nature. I just don’t want to put a damper on the evening. It’s a depressing tale. How’s Leah doing? She was acting as though her wound was still painful when I saw her on Thursday.” It was Ellie’s turn to change the subject.
“In that case, she must have smiled at you. It’s more painful when she does that, but it’s a natural reaction for her. At least the news was good, so that’s a blessing. She’s a very happy child, and I’m glad to see she can still raise a smile. I’m not sure I could if I were in the same position. I think, in the beginning, she was happy to be off school for three weeks, but she misses her friends, so now she’s bored. All the schoolwork they school gave her to complete she whizzed through in a day.”
“She’s obviously a bright girl. Any news on the gang who attacked her?”
Holly’s green eyes held a film of water that glistened in the candlelight. “I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “These are tears of anger.” She wiped away the drops from around her eyes. She succeeded without spoiling her eye makeup. “They have been identified and expelled. The problems with bullying began with the arrival of Coral. She, apparently, was the leader. She’d come from another school at the beginning of the term, after problems at her previous one. Leah had to suffer it from the beginning. She wasn’t the only one, either. Apparently, the threat of burning your house down if you tell on them works. It could have made Leah a basket case.” The anger was evident on her face.
The Harbinger Page 4