The Way to a Woman's Heart

by Christina Jones

  ‘Billy and Trixie?’ Ella asked.

  Poll shrugged. ‘Er, yes. I’ll tell you about them later. Sorry, I’ve got to get the phone.’

  Ash hoisted Roy up gently. ‘Won’t they ring on your mobile if you don’t answer the landline?’

  ‘I don’t have a mobile.’

  Ella and Ash looked at her in amazement.

  ‘Never got the hang of having to charge them, and even when they were charged I always pressed the wrong buttons and cut people off, so I’ve stuck to the landline,’ Poll said happily as she hurried towards the stairs. ‘Come along George – yes, you can come and see Roy again later.’

  Ash shook his head as they disappeared. ‘No mobile? How on earth does she manage?’

  ‘Goodness knows,’ Ella said, out of breath. ‘I couldn’t imagine life without a mobile – although I’ll admit to leaving my laptop with my parents.’

  ‘Sadly, I refuse to be parted from either. And my MP3 would be hard to live without, too.’

  Ella laughed. ‘I reckon Poll would think MP3 was a division of the police. And I don’t think she has a computer because all her letters to me were, well, letters. Oof – can we put Roy down, please? He weighs a ton.’

  ‘Sssh.’ Ash grinned. ‘You’ll hurt his feelings. He’s very sensitive about his weight – but, OK. You let your end of him go gently – that’s great – and now if you could just make sure the lid is fully opened while I pop him in and let him get acclimatised.’

  ‘Blimey.’ Ella gazed at the massive tank running along one wall. ‘That’s one huge snake pit.’

  ‘Vivarium. State of the art. It comes in sections that all bolt together and the heat and light unit just plugs in. But that’s why I needed Joe’s help in getting it up here. Right, are you ready to introduce him to his new home?’

  Between them, with a considerable amount of huffing and puffing, they eventually managed to slide a still very relaxed Roy into the large vivarium.

  Ella smiled at the way Roy seemed to sigh happily as he moved slowly across the shaved bark, investigated the mounds of sphagnum moss, the rocks, the little caves, the watering hole – all illuminated by carefully shaded spotlights – then, clearly confident that he’d come home, curled himself up and stared at them with his unblinking eyes.

  Ash snapped the locks securely into place. ‘He’s nocturnal so he’ll just want to go to sleep. Thanks so much – you were great.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ Ella said loftily, proud of her snake-charming prowess and really relieved that Ash hadn’t witnessed her earlier terror. ‘So, are you coming down for lunch now?’

  ‘When I’ve unpacked, yes. That’d be great.’

  ‘Poll loves cooking, so we should be well fed – although as that’s your area of professional expertise maybe I shouldn’t say that.’

  Ash shook his head. ‘I’m no culinary diva. It’s always a pleasure to have food cooked for me. Although while I’m out of work maybe I should offer to take a turn in that wonderful farmhouse kitchen. It’ll give me an opportunity to try out my soups. I’ll cook anything, but I love inventing new soup recipes from really fresh local produce.’

  ‘Oh, yes, Poll’s kitchen is brilliant.’ Ella beamed. ‘And as you do soups, Poll specialises in mains and I love concocting puddings – although of course I’m very much an amateur – between us we’ll be able to provide a proper dinner.’

  ‘A Dewberrys’ Dinner?’ Ash laughed. ‘My favourite programme.’

  ‘No way! Really? Poll and I have already discovered that we’re both fans, too.’ Ella sighed happily, already visualising snuggling up close and personal to Ash on Poll’s vast cushiony peaches and cream sofa while Tom and Gabby Dewberry ripped some other poor wannabe chefs to shreds on the small screen. ‘We’ve both said we never miss it.’

  ‘Me neither. I always record it to watch after a shift,’ Ash said. ‘Or at least I did until I became one of the unemployment statistics.’

  ‘Mmm, Poll explained about – everything.’

  ‘Hopefully I’ll find another restaurant before long. I can’t afford to live on fresh air.’ Ash smiled. ‘But Poll’s amazing, isn’t she? Thank God for people like Poll. You have no idea how difficult it is finding somewhere to live that’ll take a python. Although, I must admit the set-up here is a bit curious. I mean, you said you weren’t another lodger, so why are you here?’

  ‘Mother’s help, as I said,’ Ella said quickly, deciding to leave out all the other more painful details. ‘New job. I was frazzled by working in sales, worn out by impossible targets and bad-tempered customers, needed a change of lifestyle and wanted to escape from city living for a while. And I only arrived here this morning, although it seems as if I’ve been here for several lifetimes already. Of course, I wasn’t expecting –’ She stopped.

  ‘Expecting what?’

  ‘Expecting you to be moving in – or Roy to be a python,’ Ella said, deciding that honesty was the best policy.

  ‘Really? Didn’t Poll tell you anything about us?’

  ‘Not a word until I arrived a couple of hours ago.’

  ‘She’s a bit dizzy, isn’t she? Lovely, though. And so what did you think Roy was, then?’

  Ella grinned. ‘Oh, I thought you and Roy were a gay couple. And Roy worked on pylons and looked like Ozzy Osbourne.’

  Ash laughed.

  Ella decided it was possibly not the best time to tell him that none of this was a joke, so she simply smiled instead. Ash smiled back.

  Oooh, but he had such a fabulous smile. Ella suddenly wanted to open the tank again and kiss Roy. Brought together to live under the same roof with the sexiest man in the universe – even if he might be gay – by a ball python. How cool was that?

  Not cool at all, her inner voice reminded her. Remember, you’ve got Mark and more complications than any girl needs…

  ‘Ella!’ Poll’s voice echoed up the stairs. ‘That was Billy Booker on the phone. Because I got the dates muddled, he’s arriving the day after tomorrow instead of next week, and I’ve managed to ring Trixie too, just to check what dates she had, and she’s coming the day after tomorrow too. Isn’t that wonderfully convenient?’

  As she had no idea who Billy and Trixie were, Ella made a murmur of assent. ‘Er, yes. That sounds, um, perfect.’

  ‘So,’ Poll continued cheerfully, ‘we’ll have one day to get to know each other better, and then another day of complete mayhem to look forward to.’

  ‘Oh, yes – lovely.’

  ‘And if Roy is happily installed,’ Poll’s voice echoed up the stairs, ‘is Ash ready for lunch yet? Everything’s wilting, including me.’

  ‘I think so,’ Ella called back. ‘I’ll just ask him.’

  Ash surveyed the mountains of luggage strewn around his room and nodded. ‘Actually, I’m starving so I’ll leave this lot until later. I’ll just ring Onyx and let her know Roy and I have arrived safely, then I’ll come down and find you.’

  ‘Onyx?’

  Ash nodded, flicking through numbers on his mobile. ‘She used to work with Roy – I think I mentioned it earlier? He shared in her stage act and she really loved him, but she wasn’t happy about it from a welfare point of view so she gave him to me.’

  Ella nodded, walking – she hoped – casually towards the door. ‘Oh, of course, that famous double act: Morecambe and Wise, Cannon and Ball, Ant and Dec, Onyx and Roy – they just trip off the tongue.’

  Ash laughed as he lifted his mobile. ‘You’re really funny. I do love a girl with a – Oh, hi…’

  Ella, really, really not wanting to hear Ash cooing seductively at Onyx-the-stripper, who she hoped against hope was really called Olive and looked like a welder, stomped downstairs.

  ‘Blimey.’ Poll frowned in the hall. ‘What’s up with you? Oh – Roy hasn’t escaped or bitten anyone has he?’

  ‘No, Roy’s nicely at home in his secure snake pit.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that, but I thought you and the superb Mr Lawrence were getting on
just fine?’

  ‘We were… are… were.’ Ella swung crossly round the newel post. ‘And, on the plus side, he makes divine soups and wants to cook for us in your kitchen, and he’s another Dewberrys’ Dinners fan. And still on the plus side, he thinks I’m funny. Oh, and on the plus side again, he definitely isn’t gay.’

  ‘Really?’ Poll chuckled. ‘There’s a mercy. London boyfriend in the picture or not, you’d clearly be hell to live with if he was. And all those pluses sound pretty good to me. So, do I sense a minus coming up?’

  ‘Oh, yes, a big, big, b-i-g minus. About a nanosecond after finding out he wasn’t gay I discover he has a girlfriend.’

  ‘And you’ve got a boyfriend,’ Poll pointed out reasonably.

  ‘Yes, but it’s not the same thing at all. Mark’s just a normal bloke with a normal job. He’s involved with an exotic dancer called – can you believe it? – Onyx.’

  ‘Pretty name. Did he tell you she was his girlfriend?’

  ‘I didn’t ask – anyway, there was no need. He went all soppy on the phone. A girl knows these things. And I bet she can do the splits and cartwheels and everything. And,’ Ella said quickly, ‘if you laugh, I’ll resign now before I’ve even got started and be back in London before you can say “glittery G-string”.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of laughing.’ Poll laughed. ‘Ooh, sorry, but it is quite funny.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Yes, well, Ash goes from gay to heterosexual in the blink of an eye and Roy is replaced by Onyx – and you’re still frowning. Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, honestly. And as you’re romantically attached too, I don’t see the problem. Now, do you think you could just stop scowling long enough to eat some lunch?’

  Ella wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, tough one… Go on then. I might just try and force something down.’

  Chapter Eight

  ‘At long, long last,’ Poll sighed as she put the final lunch dish on the wooden table in the garden and poured tall ice-clinking glasses of juice for Ella and Ash. ‘I do apologise for all the delays. It’s so hot and you must both be starving, dehydrated and completely bewildered. Please help yourselves.’

  As Poll felt that making sure everyone was well fed was the most important thing in the world, she’d produced a sort of extended ploughman’s lunch which would probably feed at least thirty people, but she didn’t want Ella and Ash to think she skimped.

  ‘It all looks wonderful,’ Ash said, helping himself liberally to something of everything.

  Ella, her mouth already full of bread and cheese, nodded her agreement.

  Poll, piling her own plate, was delighted that Ella seemed to have recovered her equanimity, and also that she clearly didn’t intend to follow any sort of lo-cal diet to keep that stunning figure. She allowed herself another covetous glance at Ella’s long, long, jet-back eyelashes and her perfect peachy youthful complexion. Not a line or wrinkle or open pore in sight. Like porcelain.

  Ella, Poll thought, was exactly what she’d longed to be in her youth – and had never been able to be, and never would be now. Damn it.

  ‘George is having his nap,’ Poll said, ‘so it seems like an ideal opportunity to explain a few things to you both. Oh, do have some more bread, and all the cheeses are homemade from the milk of Hideaway-grazed cows and goats.’

  Ella groaned greedily. ‘I won’t be able to move an inch after this. It’s all absolutely fantastic – and I’m sorry – I know zilch about farming. I didn’t see any cows or goats. Are they, er, in stables or something?’

  Poll laughed, dropping a dollop of pickle in amongst her cascade of beads. ‘Oops… No, we don’t keep animals on the farm. In fact I don’t farm it all. I rent out the land to neighbours for growing stuff, and for grazing when its needed, but then only for dairy purposes. The hens are mine and they’re part of the family and wander around and lay eggs in some odd places, and we do eat those of course. The eggs, that is, not the hens. But Hideaway Farm is totally arable.’

  ‘Arable?’ Ella frowned. ‘Crops and things?’

  ‘Wheat. Barley. Potatoes. Greens. Even oil-seed rape. I’d have never come here if I thought anything was going to be slaughtered. Actually I hope the vegetarian thing is OK with you?’

  Ella helped herself to more cheese and a large spoonful of tomato chutney. ‘Of course. It’s fine. Actually, I’ve never thought about being a non-meat eater, but I’m willing to give anything a try.’

  ‘Me too,’ Ash agreed. ‘And all this is amazing if it’s totally veggie – I mean, you’ve even got pâté – surely… ?’

  ‘Mushroom and cheese and herb,’ Poll said proudly. ‘Tasty as anything concocted from something that breathed – well, at least in my opinion. But I’m afraid food without a face is all that I cook here at Hideaway.’

  ‘Not a problem for me,’ Ella said, spreading pâté on a chunk of bread.

  Ash nodded. ‘Not for me, either.’

  And thank goodness for that, Poll exhaled. So far so very good. In a minute she’d be able to tell Ella – and now Ash as well – exactly what her plans were. But not just yet, not while things were going so well. Best stay on safe ground for the time being. Food. She’d stick with food.

  Poll smiled at Ella. ‘So, what sort of puddings do you like to cook?’

  ‘Rich, old-fashioned ones. Huge gooey ones. With oodles of cream and sugar and real custard. I used to drive my size-zero housemates crazy! Eve’s pudding, Midsummer pie, real Victorian trifle, Manchester tart – that sort of thing.’

  ‘Fantastic.’ Ash raised his eyebrows at Ella. ‘All this retro stuff is very fashionable at the moment, and they’re definitely some of my favourite puds. I can see we’ll all have to join Weight Watchers before long. Are you self-taught?’

  ‘Yep. My gran taught me how to cook all those, and more, when I was a kid. I just watched her, then helped, then went solo.’

  ‘The best way to learn anything.’ Poll slowly buttered another chunk of bread. The butter spread itself amongst her beads as she leaned forwards. Ella was certainly full of surprises. ‘They sound wonderful and, as Ash and I are more savoury cooks, we’re going to make a great cooking combination. And I love old-fashioned recipes. You’ll have to teach me some of your favourites.’

  Ella nodded happily. ‘Of course, but will I have time? With everything you want me to do… ? Which is obviously looking after George – but what else exactly? What exactly haven’t you told me about?’

  Poll laughed. ‘Ah, yes. I really can’t put it off any longer can I? And maybe it’s as well that Ash is here too as he doesn’t actually know any of this either.’

  Reaching under the table, she produced a battered box file.

  ‘Don’t look so worried, Ella. I only lied by omission. I honestly do want someone to help with George, but not because I intend to be a lady of leisure who lunches while you skivvy – far from it. I know that’s what the ad sounded like, but what I really want is for you to share in my dream.’

  ‘Dream? What dream? I don’t remember anything about a dream in the advert.’

  ‘Sorry. I told you I went about everything the wrong way round. Right, well, my inherited money – another long story which I’ll tell you one day – like everyone else’s, has taken a bit of a knock in the credit crunch years, so I know that I’ll need to make sure there’s plenty left for George. Which means earning some to make up the deficit. As I’m totally unemployable I thought I could do something to earn money while also helping other people. So I decided to marry the two together.’

  Ella and Ash exchanged confused frowns.

  Poll handed the file to Ella. ‘Maybe if you just look at these first.’

  Still completely bemused, Ella flicked through the papers. There were masses of newspaper cuttings, copious notes and dozens of letters. It would take weeks to study them in any depth.

  She looked up at Poll. ‘Could you give me a clue about what I’m supposed to be looking for? At a quick glance these all seem to be stories abo
ut people who’ve been in the news for various misdemeanours.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Poll said, leaning across the table and lifting out the top sheaf of papers. ‘Some have, of course, and I discarded those. I spent ages collecting this information from news programmes and the press, and even longer sifting out the wrong’uns. And in the end I made my decision, so please read these.’

  As the sun spiralled overhead and one of the cats wove its sinuous way round her feet in the table’s shade, Ella skimmed through the papers. Eventually she looked up.

  ‘OK, so as far as I can see these people have got absolutely nothing in common, except they’ve been in the news this year for, well, for being antisocial… I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand…’

  Poll sighed. ‘They do have one thing in common – as have all the poor people in those reports – they’ve lost their lives and their homes. Oh, Ella, you’ve no idea how much heartache there is out there. It was so hard to choose…’

  ‘Choose?’

  ‘Mmm.’ Poll nodded. ‘I had so many sleepless nights trying to pick the ones who really, really needed my help. I could only pick three to start with, of course, but hopefully one day, with more income, I’ll be able to expand. Then there was George to consider. I couldn’t expose him to anything or anyone who might cause, well, problems.’

  ‘No, of course you couldn’t. So, are you going to sponsor them or something? Make a donation to Shelter on their behalf or what? I still don’t understand where I come in.’

  ‘You will. Don’t you see? These people have lost everything. Through no fault of their own. Which is why I’ve invited them to live here.’

  ‘What?’ Ella nearly fell off her chair. ‘Live? Here? At Hideaway Farm?’

  Poll nodded, smiling hugely. ‘Yes. It’s the one thing I can do. I can make a difference. I’ve got everything I’d ever dreamed of now, but most of my early life was pretty rubbishy and I never thought I’d find this sort of happiness. These people deserve a second chance too. I’ve got all this room here – so now I can give it to them.’