As soon as she got to the front door she took in a huge breath of the cool evening air. Crossing the lawn, she walked to the low stone wall which marked the border between Seaview Hotel and the coast road. At the other side of the road was a sheer drop of black cliff face. And beyond the cliffs, the ocean, tinged by the red of sunset, tossed and turned in its ceaseless rhythm of ebb and flow. Ella’s eyes travelled over the breadth of the vista and she began to feel its depth. Its timelessness. Its imperviousness to human joy or tragedy. Her parents’ deaths had not stopped the tide. Her accident, the nightmare of Karen Trevor’s death and the yearlong replay of her dying, the violent end to Jason Laide’s violent life, the break-up of her marriage, none of these had altered the course of a single wave. The powerful emotions of grief and fear and black despair she had felt had, after all, been powerless.
“It is beautiful, isn’t it? I’m not surprised that you don’t miss the city.”
Ella jumped with fright.
“Sorry,” Andrew said. “I’d forgotten how you drift off into a world of your own.”
She turned to him and smiled. “Andrew, thank you for being here today. It meant a lot to me. Especially since I’m sure you’d like to have been at the casino opening. Did the Coxes mind you not being there? “
“The Coxes got what they needed from me. The Ballyhaven site was what they wanted. I’m sure they don’t care whether they see me or not.”
Ella’s ears pricked up. Was that a note of cynicism she heard in Andrew’s voice? He had always been a touch conceited, a touch dishonest. But cynical, never. Maybe he was just learning realism and finding it a difficult lesson to absorb. She glanced at him and noticed that the boy was gone. Andrew had a new maturity. The look of a man who had responsibilities and took them seriously.
“A pity Maxine couldn’t make it,” she said, “but I understand that she needed to be with her father. I’m glad they’ve found each other again.”
Andrew ran his hand through his hair and Ella remembered the danger signal. She braced herself as he spoke.
“Her father is sick. That’s true. And she’s caring for him.”
“But?”
“But the real reason she’s not here is because she’s not feeling very well herself at the moment. Actually she’s pregnant.”
Ella looked out to sea again. The tide rolled on, not skipping a beat.
“Congratulations. I’m happy for you both,” she said before she had time to analyse her words. She listened to them as they rolled out into the calm evening and she knew they had come from her heart. She was glad for Andrew and Maxine. Glad that they had found each other, glad that they had not bought Manor House which had by now been demolished to make way for a housing estate, glad that Maxine ran a small restaurant in town while Andrew had a new business partner in the estate agency. Glad that they were going to have a baby.
“You’ll make a great dad.”
“What a thought! Me a daddy! Thank you, Ella. Thank you for everything.”
Ella turned to look at him. At her handsome ex-husband. At the man with whom she had intended to spend the rest of her life. She smiled at him.
“We had some interesting times, didn’t we? Not all good but interesting. Which reminds me, how are Oliver and Tricia getting on with their shop?”
Andrew shook his head and grinned. “If anyone had told me Griffin would end up being a convenience-store owner, I’d have said they were crazy. How wrong can you be? The best thing he ever did was to take early retirement from the Planning Office. And getting his gambling under control, of course.”
Andrew took a step towards her. He still wore the same aftershave. It came to her on the evening breeze, carrying with it memories she had thought long dead. He raised his hand and gently touched her hair.
“And you, Ella. Are you happy here? Have you found the peace you were looking for?”
“I love the hotel. I like meeting people and I like the challenge of building the business up.”
“I was talking about Peter Sheehan. Beryl told me.”
Ella laughed. Beryl had probably had her prissy little face on while she told Andrew that Ella had a man in her life. She might even have said “So there!”.
“Yes. Peter and I are seeing each other. When we can. He works long hours and so do I. But the time we get to spend together is special. Very special.”
Andrew kissed her on the cheek. Just a brief touch of lips, a brush of bristle on smooth skin and he was gone. She remained standing by the wall and waved to him as he drove across the driveway and out onto the road. Home to his wife and child.
The sun was very low on the horizon now, night beginning to push the light from the sky. Snatches of music drifted out from the bar. Maybe she should join them, sing along but maybe she would take five more minutes to herself. Just five minutes of quiet at the close of a perfect day.
Almost perfect. Peter should have been here. She knew he would have been if he could. There must have been an emergency in the hospital. Or perhaps with one of his private patients. Someone desperate teetering on the edge of disaster, like Oliver Griffin had once been. Like she herself had been. Peter was a rescuer of lost souls. She was worried. What if something had happened to him? What if he never came here again? No more walks along the beach, no more warm hugs and shared jokes. No more thunder and lightning kisses. Ella turned and walked quickly towards the bar. She mustn’t let anything, or anyone spoil her day. Not even Peter Sheehan.
She had just reached the entrance to the hotel when Beryl came towards her, walking a little unsteadily.
“Now don’t be cross with me, dear,” she said “but I have a confession to make.”
Ella had to wait then while Beryl hiccoughed. She must have really pushed the boat out and had three glasses of port.
“What have you done, Beryl? Besides getting a little drunk.”
“I forgot to tell you that your young doctor rang earlier. You were busy with the Minister at the time.”
“And?”
“And he was very sorry but there was an emergency at the hospital. He’ll be here as soon as he can. Are you cross with me now, dear?”
Ella laughed as Beryl staggered slightly. She must get the old lady to bed before she had an accident.
“No, Beryl, I’m not cross. How could I be? This was a great day. And you’ve just made it perfect.”
Ella hugged Beryl and then held firmly onto her arm. They stood together in the doorway and turned to face the sea.
The lap of the tide hissed gently against the cliff wall, the sound of singing from the bar rose and fell in a rhythm of its own. The sun finally dipped beneath the horizon and the evening star shone with a cold light. Ella smelt the sweetness of turf-smoke. She heard the distant sound of a car driving along the coast road which lead to Seaview Hotel. It was the high-powered whine of a Ferrari engine. Peter Sheehan’s Ferrari. She noted it all. Committed it to memory. Treasures to be recalled for as long as she lived.
The smells, the sounds and the sights of the night Ella Ford finally found peace.
The End
Also By Mary O'Sullivan
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The real Meg suffers the coldness of her marriage, the defiance of her adolescent son and the mysterious disappearance of her daughter while on a summer trip to the States. When daughter Carrie eventually arrives home, she seems to have undergone a personality change. She announces to the family that she has joined Inner Light Movement (ILM), a quasi-religious cult founded by Matt Hemmings in the States.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Ebb and Flow Page 41