by Anna Jacobs
When she got there, the phone was blinking and she checked who’d rung. Rose. She glanced out of the window. Cameron was still talking on his mobile, not looking best pleased, so she rang her cousin back.
The phone rang a few times and she was just going to put the handpiece down when the line crackled and she heard Rose’s voice, a bit breathless as if she’d been running.
‘Ella. Thanks for ringing back. I just wanted to tell you my news. Brett Harding had an accident last night and crashed into my cottage. He knocked the corner walls down.’
‘He was drunk when he left here.’
‘He’s not been pestering you again?’
‘Yes.’
‘He’s a sleaze. But never mind him . . . Oliver Paige is back!’
‘I heard that he was coming. How do you feel about seeing him again?’
‘Same way you’d feel if Miles came to live nearby.’
‘Ha! There’s no hope of that. He hates country life. Are you going to take the flat Doc Paige has offered? There’s plenty of room here if you don’t fancy that.’
Another silence, then, ‘Thanks but the flat’s more convenient for my work at the pub.’
‘Well, if things change, you know you can come here.’
‘Thanks, love.’
As Ella put the phone down, the door opened and Cameron came in, his expression serious. ‘There’s some sort of minor crisis concerning a project I’ve been working on. They won’t discuss it over the phone. And I have a final few things to tidy up, so I’m going up to London to do everything at once.’
‘You’re leaving now?’
When he nodded, she was angry with herself for feeling disappointed. ‘I’ll make up your bill, then. I’ll only charge you for the one night, of course.’
‘I’m coming back, Ella. I love it here. I’ll pay for three nights, to show willing.’
She looked across at him uncertainly.
‘And when I come, I’d like to see more of you. If you’d like it, that is.’
She stilled, shocked by the gladness welling up, remembering suddenly how quickly she and Miles had become an item. Too quickly. Far too quickly. ‘I . . . don’t know. It’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?’
‘How long does it take to be attracted to someone?’
He looked as if he was going to draw her into his arms and she took an involuntary step backwards. ‘I’ve not . . . I’m not sure I—’
He studied her, head on one side. ‘He hurt you badly, that husband of yours, didn’t he?’
She could only shrug. She hadn’t discussed her feelings about the failure of her marriage with anyone except Rose.
‘OK. We’ll take it easy. Just give me a chance. I don’t like the thought of you being on your own out here while I’m away, though.’
‘I’ve got my ferocious guard dog.’
‘You’re more likely to have to rescue Porgy.’
‘Well, I don’t think Brett Harding will be troubling me again.’ She explained about the accident.
‘That might keep him away but it’s very lonely out here and you said you’d had another break-in.’
Even as he was speaking, they heard a car coming along the drive. She moved away from him, straightened her clothes and ran a hand over her hair, which was always escaping from the scarf she used to tie it back. ‘I’ll – um – just go and see who that is.’
Two elderly couples emerged from a large station wagon which had seen better days. Ella showed them the chalets then brought them back to the house to book them in, listening to the tales of their trip as if it was the most fascinating story she’d ever heard.
Cameron nodded to them and waited for her to finish.
‘Is there anything else, Mr O’Neal?’
‘I’d like a can of lemonade. Shall I help myself and put it on my account?’
‘Yes, please do. And we’ll settle the account after you get back.’
He smiled at her, then the two couples. ‘I hope your stay here is as enjoyable as mine has been. Ms Turner is an excellent cook if you’re thinking of eating here.’
‘Well, that’s nice to know.’ One of the men came across to offer his hand. ‘Joe Blake. We’re only here for a couple of nights, but it’d be nice not to have to drive out again tonight, I must admit.’
Cameron went to pack his things, relieved that Ella wouldn’t be on her own. When he’d put his bags in his car, he went to find her.
‘Promise me you’ll be careful.’
‘I will.’
‘I’ll be gone for a couple of days, three at most. If they leave before I get back . . .’
‘Cameron, I’ve lived here alone for the past two years. I’ll be perfectly all right.’
Only when he’d driven off did she realize that he hadn’t given her his mobile number, and the only address she had for him was a post office box.
He’ll be back, she told herself as she began to defrost some food for her new guests. I can trust him.
I’m missing him already, she thought later as she and Porgy went to meet Amy after school. How stupid can you get?
He will come back, she thought again as she prepared a meal for her guests. Of course he will.
I’m worrying for nothing, she told herself as she got ready for bed.
But surely, if he’d meant what he said, he’d have arranged to keep in touch?
Six
In the middle of the night the security lights switched on and the buzzer linked to them sounded next to Ella’s bed. She woke with a start and sat up, her heart thumping madly. Quickly she dragged on her dressing gown before picking up the old rounders bat she now kept next to her bed for protection. Without switching on the lights, she crept from one side of the house to the other, peering out of the windows, but could see no signs of movement outside.
After the usual two-minute period, the lights automatically switched off again. She waited for a while longer, roaming the shadowy house, peering out of windows, then went back to bed. It was probably some animal that had strayed on to the farm. A deer, maybe. The fence must be down somewhere.
Just as she was dozing off, the lights came on again and the buzzer jerked her awake.
Another tour of the windows showed nothing.
This happened several times, then stopped. Only she kept expecting the lights to go on again and couldn’t relax, let alone sleep.
She felt very angry. Someone was playing with her. Was it Brett Harding? Why would he bother? Wasn’t he in enough trouble?
And if it wasn’t him, who was it? What about the people who’d vandalized her home? She still worried about why they’d picked on her.
She returned to bed but tossed and turned for a long time before falling into an uneasy sleep.
In the morning, the alarm clock woke her at the usual time. Feeling heavy-headed, she went into Amy’s room, lingering a moment or two to smile fondly at the child sleeping as usual in a tangle of covers and soft toys.
By the time she got into the car to drive Amy to the bus stop, she had everything ready for her guests, who had booked breakfast for half past eight.
‘When is Mr O’Neal coming back, Mummy?’
‘I’m not sure. In a day or two – if he can. It’s not absolutely certain.’
‘But he said he was coming back.’
‘I know he did, darling, but people sometimes change their minds.’
‘He won’t break a promise. He’s a nice man. Me and Porgy like him. Do you like him, Mummy?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s good.’
Ella didn’t ask Amy to explain what she meant by that because she didn’t want to get into a tangle of explanations. Some things were just too complicated for seven-year-olds.
When she got back, she checked the ground near the house and found several blurred footprints, the sort you got from cheap wellies like the ones she wore herself in winter. She stared at them, her breath catching in her throat. She’d guessed it hadn’t been an animal, but this
was proof that someone had been prowling round her house trying to spook her – and they’d succeeded, damn them.
Who would do that? Brett was the first name that came to mind. He’d been pestering her on and off for years, but why would he suddenly go off the rails like this?
‘Good morning, Mrs Turner.’
She jumped in shock, then realized it was the new guests, ready for their breakfast.
‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.’
‘I was miles away. Did you sleep well . . . ?’
They were a charming quartet, in their seventies, all seeming full of energy and with a young attitude to the world. They were very appreciative of her cooking and made arrangements to have dinner at Willowbrook again that night.
When they’d gone out for a day’s sightseeing to Avebury, Marlborough and wherever chance took them, she cleared up quickly before going across to their chalets to tidy up. But everything was already immaculate, with beds made. They’d set out the card that said they were happy to reuse the towels, so she only had to put fresh milk in the fridge, and restock the biscuits, tea and coffee sachets. She wished all guests were as easy to look after.
She couldn’t resist going into the chalet Cameron had used. He’d taken all his things. She stood there, wondering if he’d be back, then sat down for a minute on the bed, smoothing the duvet cover with her right hand. He’d talked about them getting to know one another. She’d really like that. Only . . . was she reading more into what he’d said than he’d meant? She’d rushed into a relationship once and look where that had led her.
She wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Anyway, she’d only known Cameron for a couple of days. That was far too soon to talk about relationships.
Wasn’t it?
But the dog liked him, and so did Amy. And he’s said – Oh, stop it! she told herself. You’re being silly. He probably won’t even come back.
Back at the house the message light was blinking on the phone, showing two messages. She pressed the replay button.
Miles’s voice. ‘Ella, will you call me back as soon as possible, please? I need to sort out something with you.’ There was silence for a moment, then he added, ‘Now that I’ve got my life in order, I want to see more of my daughter. I can come down on Saturdays and take Amy out for the afternoon, starting this weekend.’
Ella stared at the phone in horror, ignoring the tinny voice still talking in her ear. Had she heard correctly? She replayed the message.
Yes, Miles really was saying he wanted to see Amy. Why? He had a very short span of both attention and patience where small children were concerned, so what on earth would someone like him do with a child for a whole afternoon?
Ella didn’t want to give him any access at all. He’d hurt the child enough by not coming near her for three years. She remembered in the early days Amy asking where her daddy was. And one day, the child had suddenly asked if her daddy didn’t like her because she couldn’t walk properly.
A child shouldn’t think that way. She hoped she’d convinced Amy that it wasn’t because of the SMA. Whether she had succeeded or not, the subject hadn’t been raised again.
Why this sudden interest from Miles?
It wasn’t because he loved his daughter, Ella was quite sure of that. He could say the words of love, said them often and easily when he wanted something, but she’d found the hard way that he didn’t really care about anyone but himself.
How was she to protect Amy from being hurt by him now?
Tears came into her eyes. She didn’t think she had any choice about allowing access, was sure she remembered Ian Hannow saying her ex would still have the right to see his child, whatever they’d arranged.
Still holding the handpiece, Ella sat down on the ancient oak settle at one side of the kitchen. Miles would have some reason for doing this. She didn’t know what, but she was quite sure there would be one.
She checked the other message and noted a booking for a few weeks’ time, a couple who’d been here before.
Just as she was about to set the handpiece down, the phone rang. She stared at it, wondering whether to answer it or not. ‘Don’t be such a coward!’ she told herself and said crisply, ‘Willowbrook.’
‘Ella? Ella, is that you?’
Cameron’s voice. Joy flooded through her and suddenly the world felt brighter. ‘Yes, of course it’s me.’
‘You sound strained. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. I was just – um, lost in thought.’
‘You’ve not had any other problems?’
She hesitated, not knowing whether to tell him or not. She hardly knew him, after all, however comfortable she felt with him.
‘There is something. What’s happened? Can I help?’
‘The security lights kept going on and off last night. I’m sure it wasn’t an animal. Whoever it was would wait ten minutes, then trip the lights again. This morning I found footprints near the house.’
‘Hell! And I can’t get back till late tomorrow at the earliest. Are those four people still staying there? Thank goodness. Look, you’ll call me if anything else happens? Got something to write with? Good. Here’s my mobile number. I forgot to give it you before I left.’
She scribbled it down, smiling. She’d been worrying about nothing.
‘I’m missing you, Ella.’
‘Are you?’
‘I wouldn’t say so otherwise. Aren’t you missing me?’
‘I’ve been busy with my new guests.’
He laughed softly. ‘You’re right to tread cautiously. You don’t know me yet. But you will.’ There was the sound of voices in the background. ‘Oh, damn. I have to go now. I’ll call again tonight. And Ella – be careful.’
The four guests came back mid-afternoon, teasing one another about their need for a rest.
Later Ella watched them walk round the lake, one couple holding hands and the other two looking as if they belonged together, even though they weren’t touching. It renewed her faith in marriage just to see them.
And it made her feel good that Cameron had called. She couldn’t help hoping . . . just a little . . . that something might come of their . . . friendship.
But she would definitely tread carefully. There wasn’t only herself to be hurt this time, there was Amy.
Later that afternoon two men turned up in a large four-wheel drive. They were wearing business suits and didn’t look at all like tourists. Puzzled, she watched them get out of their vehicle and stand for a long time, gesturing towards various parts of her property.
They were obviously checking out Willowbrook. Who’d sent them? It couldn’t be the bank, because they’d sent Cameron. Was it the developer who’d approached her about the property recently? What were they called? DevRaCom, that was it. Why would they think she’d changed her mind? She hadn’t. She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t help wondering if Miles was again behind these efforts to get her to sell. Was it just a coincidence that he’d rung today, wanting to see Amy every Saturday? That would give him an excuse to come down regularly. She hated the thought of it, wished she need never see him again as long as she lived, didn’t want him upsetting her life – or her daughter’s.
When the men came back round the house to ring the front door bell, she waited a moment or two before answering. A flurry of rain made her feel obliged to invite them into the hall.
The older one held out a business card. ‘We’re from DevRaCom. Do you mind if we look round the property?’
‘Why should you want to do that?’
He looked at her as if she was dull-witted. ‘I just told you. We’re here on behalf of DevRaCom, doing a preliminary survey. You know . . . the company that’s buying this place.’
She heard the timer go and let out a puff of annoyance. ‘Excuse me just one moment. I have to take something out of the oven.’
When she got back they were still standing there. The spokesman’s expression suddenly brightened as he took in her
dirty apron and the duster she’d stuffed into her pocket. ‘Ah, you must be the cleaning lady. You won’t know about DevRaCom, of course. Look, could you fetch the owner, please? Ella Turner.’
She folded her arms. ‘I am the owner. And no one is buying this property that I know of.’
Silence. They exchanged puzzled glances, then one said, ‘I think you’ll find Mr Parnell has already started making the arrangements.’
‘I think you will find that since I’m the owner, Mr Parnell, who is my very-much-ex-husband, has no authority here. I’m definitely – not – selling Willowbrook.’
Another silence, then the spokesman said, ‘We’d still like to take a quick look around anyway, if that’s all right.’
‘Sorry, but this is private property. Only family and guests have the right to walk around it.’
‘Then we’ll book a chalet for the night, for heaven’s sake. How much is it?’ He pulled out a credit card.
‘I don’t have any vacancies. And I’m busy today, so I’d be glad if you’d leave.’
Their expressions grew ugly, but after another exchange of glances they walked back to their car, where they sat for ages talking on a mobile phone. Even when the call ended they still sat on for some time. It wasn’t until they’d received another call, which involved some earnest talking and gesticulating, that they drove away.
She watched them go with a sick feeling in her stomach. They’d been so confident about the development. Why?
She’d guessed right. Miles was behind this and it was the second time he’d tried to sell her property against her wishes. Why did he think he’d succeed now, after a three-year break? Did he know something she didn’t?
She had to get her loan, pay him back, get him out of her life for ever. If there was no financial benefit for him here, she could be pretty certain he’d leave Amy and her alone.
Rose took off her painting overall and tidied herself up a bit, but didn’t change into anything smart. She was going to look at the flat not trying to attract a man, especially that man. He could take her as she was – or better still, not take her.