To the Moon and Back

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To the Moon and Back Page 12

by Jill Mansell


  ‘That was… loud,’ said Ellie three hours later as they made their way back through Chalk Farm to Primrose Hill. ‘My ears are ringing.’

  Todd nodded in agreement. ‘They were so loud I couldn’t even tell if they were any good. Is this a sign that we’re getting old?’

  ‘We are old. Maybe next time we could stand outside on the pavement, just hear it from a distance.’

  ‘Why stand? We could take a couple of deck chairs along. Get comfy, roll up our trouser legs.’

  ‘Wear knotted hankies on our heads,’ Ellie said. ‘You can’t beat a knotted hankie. In fact, why bother with going to see a noisy old band anyway? What’s wrong with watching some nice Morris dancers instead?’

  ‘Now you’re talking, Ethel, that’s a grand idea. We’ll take along a Thermos of tea and a packet of ham sandwiches.’ He paused, checking she was OK.

  Ellie managed a smile to reassure him she was fine. This had been his and Jamie’s thing, taking an idea and running with it, inventing characters, and creating impromptu sketch shows. From time to time she and Jamie had done the same, but it had never happened between her and Todd before. It was a weird experience, like holding your toothbrush in the wrong hand. You knew you were brushing your teeth but it felt all strange.

  ‘God, I miss him,’ said Todd.

  She nodded, the all-too-familiar hollowness in her stomach expanding like a balloon. Together they made their way up Gloucester Avenue. It was a warm night and music drifted out of open windows. In a doorway, a couple in costumes were having a drunken argument, the woman in the nun’s outfit noisily accusing a man dressed as Frankenstein of flirting with someone else. (‘She’s not Superwoman, she’s just a fat slag!’) Further along the road another couple were kissing passionately. Up above, stars twinkled in a black velvet sky and an almost full moon hung just above the rooftops. Now they could hear a soaring soul ballad being played nearby. Under other circumstances this would count as a romantic situation. The hollow stomach feeling increased. If Jamie were here now, she would be so happy. Actually, if he was here now, he’d have grabbed her and waltzed her around in circles all the way up the road whilst singing along to the tear-jerking ballad in the manner of Dame Edna.

  They reached Nevis Street and Ellie fished out her key.

  ‘Thanks. It’s been a good day.’

  ‘I’ve had fun too.’

  ‘You didn’t have to walk me home. You’ve missed the last tube now.’

  Todd shrugged easily. ‘No problem. I’ll get the bus.’

  All the way back to his mum’s in Wimbledon. It would take a while.

  ‘OK.’ She stepped forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘I’ll give you a call. If you’re free next weekend, we could do it again. Check out what bands are on, stock up on earplugs.’ He hesitated. ‘No pressure. Only if you want to.’

  Did she want to? Ellie thought she probably did. Over the past seventeen months she’d got so used to not wanting to go out and be sociable that saying no had become her natural default setting. The moment anyone invited her anywhere, her brain began scrambling for plausible excuses as to why she couldn’t make it.

  But today had been different. She hadn’t secretly been longing to be back at home on her own. Which had to be an encouraging sign, didn’t it?

  She looked at Todd. He was Jamie’s oldest friend and now she’d got over her stupid resentful phase she was comfortable in his company.

  ‘Yes, call me. I’d like to do that.’ There, that hadn’t been too difficult, had it?

  ‘Great.’ He sounded pleased. ‘I’ll buy the earplugs.’

  Ellie smiled. ‘And I’ll bring the Thermos.’

  Chapter 18

  Elmo was dancing around like a lunatic, chasing dandelion seeds as they drifted like mini parachutes above his head. Keeping an eye on the pair of German shepherds playing together down the hill, Zack stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Like a D-list celeb spotting the paparazzi, Elmo pricked up his ears and came racing back.

  ‘Those two are bigger than you are.’ Zack brushed dandelion seeds out of Elmo’s Denis Healey eyebrows and reattached his lead. ‘They’d eat you for breakfast. Come on, we need to get home now.’

  He and Elmo left the hill and made their way back to Ancram Street. Later on this morning he was flying to Amsterdam to meet with a co-investor. He’d be home by eight. Tomorrow he was visiting a shoe factory in Derby. The following day he had back-to-back appointments with prospective partners and the amount of research he still needed to carry out on the companies was ridiculous.

  But this was how Zack lived his life. Work came first; it always had. Business was his priority and personal relationships came second. They fitted in when it was convenient and he enjoyed them, of course he did, but they didn’t make his heart beat faster like the prospect of a brilliant business deal.

  At least they hadn’t, before Ellie Kendall had come into his life.

  Elmo was busily investigating an abandoned ice-cream wrapper. Zack steered him off the grass and on to the pavement. The situation he found himself in was crazy; it was just ridiculous. Never before had his mind been occupied during important meetings with thoughts of a female who wasn’t even remotely interested in him.

  And to make matters worse, he’d employed her. He’d had to, otherwise who could say when he’d have the chance to see her again?

  ‘Elmo, stop it.’ He tugged at the lead as Elmo began straining to sniff the ankles of an old man wearing saggy shorts and Birkenstocks. Simultaneously his phone began to ring.

  Louisa’s name flashed up on the screen. Should he? Shouldn’t he?

  OK, get it over with. She would only keep on calling until he answered.

  ‘Hello, you.’ She was using her consciously sexy telephone voice. ‘Listen, how about if I come over this evening?’

  Zack knew it was wrong that the suggestion didn’t fill him with joy. Their relationship had started out so well, it had taken a while for the realization to sink in that the Louisa he’d first got to know was something of a front, a beguiling persona created to give a good impression. As time had gone on, she had begun to change and reveal her bossier, more possessive side. They were turning out to have less in common than he’d first thought. ‘The thing is, I’m going to be shattered when I get back from Amsterdam.’ A lie, but a necessary one.

  ‘I know, that’s why I’m suggesting it. I’ll cook dinner and spoil you rotten. We’ll have you feeling better in no time. Go on,’ Louisa purred in his ear. ‘You know you want to.’

  He really didn’t, not tonight. ‘Look, I don’t want to mess up your evening. I may have to stay on for a couple of drinks with the Van den Bergs. Who knows what time I’ll be back.’

  ‘Oh, darling, you’re so thoughtful, but I really don’t mind.’

  And now she was being nice, which only made him feel worse. ‘But I do. It’s not fair on you.’ Pricked with guilt, Zack said, ‘Let’s leave it for tonight, OK?’

  ‘Oh, right. Well, how about tomorrow then?’

  ‘Tomorrow. Fine.’ His voice softened. Anything to keep the peace. He still liked her when she was relaxed and not taking herself too seriously; it was just that those times happened less and less often nowadays. If he was honest, he knew he should probably finish with Louisa but he also knew it was going to be hard work. Louisa was so dramatic, she wouldn’t leave without kicking up a fuss. It was a daunting enough prospect that it put him off broaching the subject. When all you wanted to do was concentrate on work, the thought of so much angst and disruption was off-putting to say the least.

  Zack ended the call, coaxed Elmo away from an abandoned chicken nugget in a shop doorway, and headed for home. It was ten past nine and Ellie would be there by now. He also knew it was wrong to be seeing Louisa whilst feeling the way he did about someone else. But Ellie’s absolute indifference towards him meant it hardly mattered. It wasn’t as if finishing with Louisa would make her suddenly change her mind a
nd fall for him. It just didn’t work like that.

  If it did, he’d already have done it.

  Ellie was in the office, smelling gorgeous and with her hair tied back with a gray velvet ribbon to reveal her neck. The post had already been sorted into piles and she was now watering the forest of plants that had taken up residence along the windowsill, courtesy of Barbara.

  ‘Some of these are going funny,’ she warned him over her shoulder. ‘I told you I wouldn’t be able to keep them going. I’m a serial plant-killer. Look at the leaves on this one.’

  She was wearing a gray jersey top with a square neck and elbow-length sleeves, and a red skirt. Moving closer, Zack breathed in the fresh, lemony perfume and watched the way her dark hair glinted in the sunlight streaming in through the window. ‘Yes, they definitely look like leaves to me.’

  ‘But the edges are going all weird and yellow.’ Frustrated, she turned the blue ceramic pot to show him. ‘I thought it needed more water so I gave it loads yesterday and now they’re even worse. Do you think I should try and dry out the soil?’

  The way her eyebrows tilted in concern made him want to kiss her. It was a common-as-muck spider plant, practically a weed, but she really cared about it. But since there was no way he could kiss her, he said, ‘How would you do that?’

  ‘I was thinking maybe a hair dryer.’ Ellie lifted the blue pot and gave the sodden compost a tentative prod.

  ‘Give it a go. If it doesn’t work, at least the leaves’ll look stylish.’

  She stopped prodding. ‘Are you making fun of me?’

  Zack smiled; the one thing he knew he mustn’t do was flirt with her. ‘I’m making light of the fact that neither of us has the foggiest idea how to look after a potted plant.’

  ‘Just as well we don’t have kids.’ Cheerfully oblivious to the effect this statement had on him, Ellie said, ‘Right, I’m taking it outside. Maybe all it needs is a bit of sun to cheer it up. Oh, by the way, there’s a message on the phone from someone called… Huggy?’ She looked bemused. ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Huggy Hill.’ Zack held the door open for her, watched as she carefully placed the pot down in a sunny spot against the wall. ‘My first ever business partner.’

  ‘First ever? How did it happen? Was that when you were still at college?’

  He nodded and followed her back into the office. ‘That’s right. I was taking a degree in business management. Huggy was a mate, clever in his own way but clueless when it came to business. He’d set up this tiny company selling mobile phones and he started asking me for advice. After a couple of months I saw the potential of what he was trying to do—this was before mobiles went mega—and I took a stake in the business in exchange for all the work I was doing for him. Chiefly because he was skint and it was the only way he could afford to pay me. Then things really started to take off and I realized I’d far rather be working with Huggy than carrying on with a three-year degree course.’

  ‘So you dropped out of university.’ Ellie knew much of the story; he knew she’d been familiarizing herself with his CV. But talking to her was no hardship; maybe she’d even be impressed.

  ‘I did. We built up the business and sold it two years later for crazy money. By then I’d already begun to diversify. I discovered I had good instincts, I could see why other people’s companies were failing and what it would take to bring them back up again. I did some stuff with a computer support consultancy that turned it around.’

  She nodded. ‘Then there was the ice-cream business.’

  He smiled. ‘I loved that one.’

  ‘And the holiday park in Dorset.’

  ‘You’ve been doing your homework.’

  ‘And the restaurant with the home-delivery service. Did your friend Huggy start investing in other companies too?’

  ‘No, he moved to the Caribbean, spent his days surfing, and became a professional beach bum. He’s still there now. Having a great life.’

  ‘Do you ever wish you were doing what he’s doing?’

  ‘Never. I’m happy here.’ Did that make him sound boring? Work-obsessed? Was he boring and work-obsessed? He said, ‘Would you do it?’

  Ellie thought for a moment. Finally she said, ‘It would depend on who I was with. Living in the perfect place with the wrong person would be horrible.’

  Zack couldn’t help himself. ‘How about living with the perfect person in a horrible place?’

  Something flickered behind her eyes for a second. Then she half-smiled and said simply, ‘If they’re the perfect person, it would still be perfect.’

  OK, what did that smile mean? Was she thinking of that actor bloke of hers, Tony Weston? Was she thinking that she could live with him in some dump somewhere and be happy about it, but luckily she didn’t need to slum it because—hooray!—he’d set her up in a half-million-pound love nest in Primrose Hill instead?

  On the few occasions he’d subtly asked questions about her private life she had veered away from the subject. He’d offered her the opportunity to tell him about Tony Weston and she’d chosen not to. Therefore he wasn’t going to push it. The only way forward was to back off and leave her to carry on with her life. If she wanted privacy, he’d let her have it. Instinct told him that all he could do for the moment was stay cool and play the waiting game. It wouldn’t be easy but he’d manage it if it killed him. Because right now, thanks to that unerring instinct, he knew for a fact that Ellie wasn’t remotely interested in him. Which meant he had to hold back. No flirting allowed. Not even a hint of flirtatious behavior. She worked for him, he was her boss, and there was nothing more hideous than finding yourself the unwilling target of a workmate’s affections. He’d encountered it himself before now and knew what a complete turnoff it was. Imagine how much worse it must be for a woman to be on the receiving end of unwanted attention.

  So that was that. He was going to hold back completely. Be charming and as nice as he knew how to be. But without flirting at all. It wouldn’t be easy but he was going to do it. He had to. Because this was too important to mess up.

  ‘OK, I’d better get changed and head off.’ Zack was still in the sweatshirt and jeans he’d worn to take Elmo for his walk. He indicated the folders on the desk. ‘There’s plenty in here for you to be getting on with. Any problems, give me a call. If my phone’s switched off, just leave a message and I’ll get back to you.’

  ‘Right, fine. Oh you naughty boy, don’t do that!’

  If only she could have been talking about him. But it was Elmo, scrabbling madly, probably having spotted a spider and getting himself caught up in a tangle of electrical leads under the desk. Launching herself across the top of the desk in the nick of time, Ellie managed to grab the printer before it crashed to the ground.

  ‘Well held. Here, let me.’ Reaching past her to pull it back to safety, Zack’s hand accidentally brushed her arm. A zingggg of adrenaline jolted through his veins. OK, this was ridiculous; it was like being fourteen again. ‘There, all done. Elmo, you stay out of trouble now.’ Raising the dog to eye level, he said, ‘Behave yourself, OK? Ellie’s going to take you for another walk later.’

  He’d said the w-word. Elmo did one of his exaggerated double takes and let out a yip of excitement.

  ‘No, no, calm down, we’ve just been out.’ Zack wondered if Ellie secretly thought he was mad, talking to Elmo the way he did. ‘Right, see you later. Be good.’

  Ellie had started opening the post. She looked up and said cheerfully, ‘We’ll try.’

  Even the shape of her mouth was irresistible; when she formed the word try, it created the most perfect pout. And now she was smiling again, but still without anything approaching that kind of interest.

  Letting himself out of the office, Zack said casually, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  God, this not-flirting and just-being-friends business was going to be bloody hard.

  Chapter 19

  What was going on? Tony had no idea, but he knew he needed to find out. Over the
past fortnight he must have sent Martha a dozen emails. All he’d had in return was a single brief message on the first day. In it, she had apologized and said their encounter had been a huge mistake. They mustn’t meet again, she was sorry if she’d led him on, and could he please respect her privacy and not attempt to contact her in any way.

  That was it, that was all. Since then, each subsequent email had gone unanswered. Directory inquiries had declined to give out Martha’s phone number. Tony, stuck in Hollywood filming an unexciting part in a completely dire movie, had been counting down the days. But in a desperate rather than a hopeful way, because flying over to London to find out what was going on was one thing, but actually persuading Martha to change her mind about him was quite another.

  Anyway, he was back now. Another day, another taxi. And no way was he capable of respecting her wish for privacy. As they pulled into Lanacre Road, Tony’s chest tightened in anticipation. He didn’t even know if she was in the house, but the need to see her again was overwhelming.

  The taxi driver said, ‘Where d’you want me to stop?’

  ‘Further along. It’s the house with the yellow door, up on the left.’ As the taxi slowed, Tony said, ‘Pull over behind that blue van.’

  The next moment the yellow door opened and Disapproving Eunice came out. Followed by Martha.

  ‘Oh God, don’t stop.’

  ‘Eh? But you said—’

  ‘Don’t stop!’ Tony shrank back from the window and hissed, ‘Keep going.’ Jesus, talk about bad timing. What did Eunice do, live there? From the depths of the cab he glimpsed Martha’s profile as she turned to lock the door behind them. The taxi trundled on to the end of the road and stopped at the junction.

  ‘Where to now, then?’

  ‘Um…’ Peering out of the back of the cab, Tony saw that the two women were heading off in the opposite direction. ‘Turn around and wait. See if they get into that car.’

 

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