by Lynda Stacey
Will glared. ‘Get back to work.’
‘Sorry.’ Josh sat back down, and then stood up again and then sat back down. ‘Do you want me to get you fresh coffee?’
‘What I want, Josh, is for you to do some work. I want you to find something juicy for the front page; go speak to the others, see what we’ve got already. I want a front page with impact and, what’s more, I want you to find me as much information on Rick Greaves as you can.’
‘No problem. I’ll get right to it.’ Josh raised his eyebrows. ‘Will, are you okay?’
Will nodded while he continued to search the internet. ‘Josh, there’s something about her that drives me a little crazy. If you’d seen her, you’d understand what I mean.’ He paused and shook his head. ‘Seriously, man, I’ve never seen anyone react like that. She was so vulnerable, so very … oh, I don’t know … defenceless. She made me want to pick her up, take care of her and make everything right.’
‘So, you like her then?’ Josh put his coffee down on the desk. ‘I take it she’s hot?’
Will thought about the question. Everything about Ella Hope was susceptible, yet she was brave and determined. How many other people would try to carry on, try to move forward, even though they still had so many fears?
He thought of how she’d taken the pizza from him, pointed to the garden bench and then walked into the house, closing the door behind her, only to come out just a few moments later with two glasses of wine. ‘Here, time for a quick one, while the pizza cooks,’ she’d said as she’d sat beside him on the bench. She’d been friendly, even though it had been more than obvious she’d been nervous of him. She’d barely spoken and had continually checked her watch for the whole twelve minutes it had taken for the pizza to cook.
He nodded. ‘Yeah, I guess she’s hot.’
Josh smirked. ‘Oh, cool. Are we talking hot, as in fiery? Or hot as in …’ He used his hands to outline a woman, stuck his tongue firmly in his cheek, pushed his glasses back up his face, winked and gave Will the look of an overgrown puppy.
Will shook his head. ‘That, my friend, is why you will always be single.’ He pushed his chair away from the desk, stood up and walked out of the office, down the corridor and into the kitchen. He switched on the kettle and walked over to the fridge that stood in the far corner. He opened its door and lifted the milk from the shelf. Sniffing it suspiciously, he considered the thought of coffee without milk, before risking the content and pouring it into his drink. He then studied the contents of the fridge.
‘Okay, today for lunch we have a pot noodle, a dried up tomato, an equally dried up bit of cheese, milk that smells a little suspect or four cans of lager. Do you northern lot ever have real food in your fridge? Or just bottles of beer?’ He lifted a bottle from the fridge, waved it in the air and then placed it back on the shelf. ‘Not what I expect my staff to keep in the work fridge.’
Josh once again pulled a face. ‘I think, my dear friend, you need a lesson in the art of shopping. Food only gets in the fridge if you get in your car, go to the shop, put food in a basket, pay for it and then take it home and place it in the fridge. Then and only then can you call it your lunch and eat it. It’s really easy; remind me to show you how it’s done.’
Will laughed. ‘Okay, Okay, don’t be insolent. You made your point and I’m not your friend, I’m your boss.’ Will opened his wallet and pulled out a ten pound note. ‘And with that in mind, can you go down to the deli and pick me up a decent sandwich?’
Josh grabbed the note. ‘Keep the change, did you say? And hey, who’s the chick?’ He pointed to Will’s wallet and to the small picture of a young woman.
‘None of your damn business,’ Will snapped as he shut the wallet and pushed it back into his pocket. He walked back towards his office. ‘Get me a large tuna mayo, with salad.’
‘Okay, okay, I’m going,’ Josh shouted. ‘But if you’ve got some bit of skirt back home, I think it’s only fair you tell me about her.’
‘She’s NOT my bit of skirt.’ Will stared at the door, stuck out his pet lip and exhaled.
‘Fine, in that case, do you mind introducing her to me? She’s cute. I wouldn’t mind taking her for a bit of a spin in the old passion wagon.’
Will glared, walked into his office and slammed the door behind him. He watched through the glass as Josh made a dash through the outer office full of people and headed towards the stairs.
Pulling the wallet back out of his pocket, Will removed the picture from behind the plastic screen. He stared at the photograph of his sister thoughtfully and just for a moment allowed his finger to stroke it gently.
Deborah was another piece of his life he had to hide and another of his memories that he had no intention of sharing. Especially with Josh.
Chapter Five
Will pulled up outside his cottage. He looked down at the carrier bag that he’d placed on the passenger seat and tutted at himself. Why had he been to the shop and why had he bought two steaks, ready-made salad, salad dressing and a disposable BBQ?
‘Not once did Ella Hope indicate to you that she’d want to eat with you, so why, when you have no fridge, did you buy enough food to feed the street? For all you know she might have already eaten,’ he barked at himself and looked up the cottage. He took note of the windows and door. ‘Okay. You need to clean those,’ he whispered to himself. It had been a job he should have done before, but his priority had been knocking the place apart, making sure he had a working bathroom and a clean bedroom, before ensuring the kitchen had been stripped and the place had been made ready for the new one to go in. Which still hadn’t arrived.
‘I could have washed them on so many occasions, only to watch them disappear under a cloud of dust ten minutes later,’ he said to himself as his mother’s words rang in his ears. ‘You have to keep on top of things, otherwise it will all end up being too much work.’
He looked between his and Ella’s cottages. Ella’s looked perfect. It looked clean and tidy. In fact, if it hadn’t always looked so immaculate for the past few months, he’d have begun to wonder if anyone had really lived there at all.
Will turned off the car engine, grabbed the carrier bag and walked towards the back of the house. ‘I reckon it’s time to burn some energy and spring clean the windows,’ he said as he entered the makeshift kitchen, dropped the bag on top of the paste table, pulled off his jacket and ran upstairs to change.
Once back in the kitchen, he picked up a bucket that he’d left sitting beneath the table, turned on the tap and wiggled his fingers around in the water, testing the temperature, before picking up a large yellow sponge and a squeegee. ‘Not ideal, but they’ll have to do,’ he chuntered to himself as he walked back to the front of the house, bucket in hand.
‘Now, windows first, then the door.’ He looked up at the upstairs window and shook his head. ‘So, are you Spiderman or do you think you’re going to need some ladders?’ He put the bucket down and looked around. ‘Okay, cleaning windows isn’t as easy as it looks.’
Will looked across at the farm. The farmer was normally around most days, but typically not today. Which brought his thoughts back to Ella. She was the only other person he knew, but he wasn’t sure if she’d have ladders or not. Would Ella clean her own windows, or would someone come in and do them for her? She’d mentioned her father the night before, said he liked to help and Will assumed that if the windows were cleaned, he’d probably have called in and done them for her.
Will waited for a few minutes and then knocked on Ella’s door. He turned his back to the door, smiled at two women who rode past on horses and felt a sense of disappointment flood though him as he waited and waited, but got no response. He looked to the side of the house. Her car was there, which he presumed would mean that she was home, but then again it had been parked on the drive for over six months and for a moment Will wondered if Ella was allowed to drive, or whether she still wasn’t well enough. Again, he knocked. And again, he waited. And then, eventually a sleepy
-looking Ella opened the door and leaned on the frame, rubbing her eyes.
‘This had better be good,’ she said with a slight, sleepy smile.
‘Sorry, I woke you,’ Will apologised and pointed to the bucket and sponge. ‘I was wanting to clean the place up a bit, but …’ He pointed at the upstairs window. ‘… I don’t have any ladders, and I thought—’
‘And you thought that along with the pizza cooking services, I’d have a window cleaning service too?’ There was a hint of amusement in her voice as she ran a hand through her hair, tossing it over her shoulder. ‘You might find some in the shed. I think Dad left some down there. It’s at the bottom of the garden. Help yourself,’ she said as she yawned. ‘And use that.’ She pointed to the gate.
Ella walked back into the cottage, slamming the front door behind her and making Will wonder how much of a bad mood he’d just put her in. He shook his head as he went through the gate. ‘Well-handled, you idiot.’ He walked past the back door, the conservatory and kitchen window, where he heard Ella tapping on the glass.
‘You want some coffee?’ She waved a kettle in the air. ‘Now you’ve woken me up, you might as well join me.’
Ella stood in her doorway and watched Will climb the rickety wooden ladder. He’d already been climbing it for the past few minutes and still hadn’t quite got to the top. He’d wobbled, yelped and had almost slipped, which was when her nervous giggles had begun and hadn’t stopped.
‘Will, what the hell are you trying to do to my dad’s ladder?’ She bit down on her lip, picked up her coffee mug and took a sip.
‘You can laugh, but I’m really not too fond of heights.’ Will reached upwards with the sponge. ‘And what’s more, there should be health and safety laws about climbing ladders.’ He briefly looked down and winked.
‘What, like in parliamentary laws?’ Again, Ella began to laugh.
‘Yes, and lots of them.’ Will once again wobbled on the ladder. His arms and legs were as close as they could get to the woodwork and the hand that held the sponge only left the ladder intermittently as he made wide rapid swiping movements at the window.
‘Go on then, what laws should there be?’ she asked as she continued to sip at her coffee while trying her best not to laugh.
Will turned on the ladder and once again made a swipe at the window frame. ‘Well, the first law would be “Don’t climb ladders”. The next law should be that if you really have to climb a ladder, there should be a really big bouncy castle underneath it, just in case you fall.’ He smirked and took another swipe at the window. ‘At least then it might be fun.’ Again, the ladder wobbled. ‘And, if you hadn’t already noticed, a man should keep at least five points of contact with the ladder at all times. No more, no less. Don’t ask.’
Ella laughed and almost spat out the coffee. Her mind began running away with itself as she tried not to think of what the fifth body part might be. ‘Do you know what, Will?’ she said, still laughing. ‘It was almost worth being woken up, just to watch you perform your circus act on a ladder.’ Ella placed her mug back on the windowsill and then stood for a moment trying to stop her giggles.
‘You’re not funny.’ Will once again swiped at the window.
‘But, Will …’ She paused and innocently pointed to the upstairs window. ‘… why didn’t you just go upstairs, open the window and spin it around? They have those really expensive pivots, you know, the ones that make cleaning easy.’
Ella ducked as the big yellow sponge flew past her ear.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that before!’ Will shouted. ‘If I fall off this ladder, it’ll be all your fault.’ He pulled the squeegee out of his back jeans pocket.
Ella shrugged. ‘Hey, you bought the damn windows, not me. You should know this.’
‘Hi … Ella. Wait there, I’m coming over.’ Bobby’s Yorkshire tone stopped the game as he pulled his tractor into the farm yard opposite and jumped down like an overenthusiastic puppy. For a moment he just stood and looked up at Will. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m cleaning the windows. I might as well finish them, now I’m up here.’ He flicked the soapsuds in Ella’s direction making her once again burst into laughter. ‘I mean, I can’t have Ella’s house cleaner than mine, can I?’
Bobby crossed his arms. He looked thoughtful and his glance went from Will to Ella and back again. ‘Ella’s house is always clean,’ he said.
Ella pursed her lips. ‘Well, that’ll be because I have a wonderful daddy who came around while I was poorly and cleaned everything. Looks like he even cut the grass for me and kept the garden tidy. Wasn’t that really nice of him?’
Bobby gave a half smile and nervously stepped from foot to foot. And then, his hand went halfway up into the air, like a child asking for permission to speak.
‘Miss Ella. That would have been me,’ he whispered. ‘It was me that did it. The cleaning and the garden.’ He blushed and nodded at the same time.
Ella stepped back, the smile dropping from her face. ‘Oh my God, Bobby, really, I … err … thank you, but why, why did you do that?’
He stared at his boots. ‘I was so sorry you were hurt, Miss Ella. Yes, I was, and I’d watched you all last year. You worked really hard at getting the house nice.’ Again, he paused, and glanced up nervously to where Will still hovered on the ladder, but then returned his gaze to the floor. ‘I just wanted it to be perfect, for when you got better.’
Ella felt shell-shocked and stared open-mouthed at Bobby. For a moment, she had no idea what to say, or do. For the whole seven months since she’d been attacked, Bobby had been letting himself in and out of her garden. He’d been washing her windows, cutting the grass, pruning the trees, and keeping it tidy for her. And, yes, she had to admit, it did look perfect.
‘Did you do all of it, Bobby? The hanging baskets, the tubs?’ She pointed upwards but had to grab at the doorway for support as Bobby enthusiastically nodded his head. ‘Bobby, I … I don’t know what to say. Except, well, thank you.’
She looked at Will for reassurance. She didn’t know whether to hug Bobby, or offer to pay him. After all, apart from the odd wave, the turf moving expedition and the odd rush across the road to help her carry shopping, she barely knew him. He’d always been keen to shout a hello, and on that day that she’d had to sit outside in the wheelchair, he’d tried to hug her just a little too much. But other than that, she’d barely had any contact with him at all.
Bobby moved a step closer. ‘You don’t have to say anything. I’m just so glad you’re better, Miss Ella. I really am.’
Ella felt uneasy, took a step back and sat down on the step. The news that Bobby had been doing the garden had thrown her and for a moment she felt a little afraid that her legs would give way. Especially as Sarah’s words of warning came thundering back to her.
Bobby looked anxious. He didn’t seem to know what to say next and Ella noticed him shuffle inch by inch back towards the farm. ‘I got a field to plough and three horses to muck out.’ His whole face lit up as he listed his work. ‘I get to drive the tractor all day today.’ He sounded proud of himself as he pointed at the huge beast of a machine. ‘I’ll … I’ll see you later …’ He strode back to the farm, where he climbed aboard the tractor and gave them both a wave.
Ella couldn’t move. Her thoughts were running away with her; she could hear her heart pounding in her chest. It was then that the trembling began.
Chapter Six
Ella wandered along the lane, with her camera in hand and her rucksack on her back. She was all set for an hour or two of photography and had set off for a short walk down one of the windy lanes that led off from the edge of her village.
She stared up at the sky; it was pale blue with a hint of sunshine. It was a promise of what was to come and although it was still early morning, the air was crisp and hazy, and she hoped that the afternoon would be warm enough to sit in the garden, where maybe, just maybe, she’d spot Will over the fence, hacking away at what re
mained of the overgrowth. After all, it was Saturday, the start of the weekend, and if Will worked nine till five, then she hoped that today might just be his day off.
It had been just over a week since she’d watched him wash the windows, after which Will had invited her to share a meal of steak, salad and wine. He’d offered to cook on a disposable BBQ he’d bought but his garden was still such a mess that in the end he brought it all to her house and, like the pizza, she’d cooked the steaks. Then they’d both sat on the bench with wine, until the evening sky had turned to dusk.
Since then, she’d spent her evenings at her parents’ house or with Sarah, and most nights she’d got home well after dark, meaning that even though Will’s lights had been on and she’d presumed he’d been home, she hadn’t seen him, not once. She had, however, noticed a huge delivery van parked outside a few days before, which made her wonder if his kitchen had finally arrived. A sudden sense of disappointment hit her as she realised that the nights of him needing her cooker were probably over.
Ella screwed her nose up as she pictured his face. The image was as clear as a photograph. She could see his strawberry blond crew cut, the dimple in his chin, the lightly freckled face and his bright blue eyes that sparkled when he laughed. She thought of how they’d chatted and laughed that evening, about nothing and everything. All the time they’d talked, she’d watched his eyes, watched the way his lips turned on a half-smile when he was joking and the way he used his hands automatically while telling a story. The whole evening had been fun, but the night had drawn in and Will had gone home, leaving Ella to wish she’d had the courage to ask him inside for coffee. But her nerves had stopped her. Something deep inside her still felt a huge sense of anxiety. She knew she needed to trust, and knew that for her life to move on she had to escape the fear and isolation she’d felt that night. But getting over being cold, alone and broken wasn’t easy and, on some days, she felt that the fear would never go away.