by CJ Morrow
‘Poor Ella.’
‘Well, I’ll manage,’ Ella said, trying to sound cheerful.
‘I’m sure you will. Especially when you get that lovely fat allowance – is that what you called it?’
Ella’s mouth dropped open. ‘What’s wrong, Sam? Why are you being like this?’
Sam pursed her lips. She looked away.
‘Spit it out, Sam. You’ve obviously got something to say.’
Sam took another swig of wine but still didn’t say anything.
‘Come on, Sam. Tell me what the problem is.’
Sam shook her head, she blinked back tears. Ella reached over and put her hand on Sam’s, but Sam pulled her hand away.
‘Sam?’ Ella’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper. ‘Sam? Ella said again.
‘You’ve had it all handed to you on a plate, haven’t you, Ella. When the rest of us have to work hard, scrimp and scrape, you just get what you need, when you need it. Just like that. Out of the blue. Charlie’s had to work two jobs for years, making extra money playing in the band, dragging me around with him. I don’t even like what they play. I had to work in the bar at the Swannie, remember, just to get some extra cash…’
‘Two nights, you lasted two nights,’ Ella cut across.
‘Yes and every penny from those two horrendous nights went into our savings. How do you think we can afford this house if it’s not by saving, saving hard. We’ve been saving ever since we met, since the day we met, Ella. Imagine that.’
‘You said Charlie played in the band because he loved it; you said he never made any money from it.’
‘Of course he makes some money from it. Anyway, that’s not the point, the point is we’ve saved and saved and gone without and you…’ Sam waved her arms in the air, ‘you just get it handed to you, just like that.’ Sam stood up, walked across to the other side of the room.
‘Do you think I had it handed to me on a plate when my mum got cancer?’ Ella said. ‘Do you think that was easy? Do you think it was easy when my mum died? Have you any idea how that feels? No you don’t? You’re jealous Sam, I can understand that. I’ve been jealous of you for years. I’ve never said anything, of course I haven’t, I’ve never admitted it to myself, not in so many words. I always thought you had the charmed life, that you got everything easily, but I’ve never begrudged you, yet now you begrudge me. I’ve always envied your relationship with Charlie, how much he cares for you, how much you love each other. You’re having a baby, how do you think that makes me feel? But I was thrilled for you. Now I see that when you had everything and I had nothing that was just how you liked it. Now it’s changed, instead of being happy for me, you’re eaten up with jealousy.’
Sam glared at Ella, her face looking ugly, but she didn’t say a word.
Ella stood up, grabbed her jacket, marched to the door. ‘I never thought I’d say this, Sam and I’m really sorry I’m going to, but you’re just a smug married.’
Ella slammed the door behind her.
Ten
Ella spent a sleepless night tossing and turning and having nightmarish dreams which mingled swirling waters with the nasty words she and Sam had exchanged. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen out with Sam; they’d been best friends for years and never had a row, not once. It was obvious to Ella that Sam really was jealous, how could she be? Sam had everything Ella didn’t. Why was Sam begrudging Ella a little bit of good fortune?
Ella dressed in the boiler suit again, twisted the turban on her head and left home without any breakfast. She drove quickly and almost recklessly to Spring Cottage, she tried to focus on the good stuff, the cavalry, the cleaning, she tried to forget about the row with Sam.
‘Hello there, young Ella.’ Walt’s big cheery face greeted her on the doorstep. ‘Others just coming. And we’ve found some more white paint, so, as long as you want your bedroom white, we can get on with it today.’
She’d have to repay him for the paint because she didn’t for a moment believe they kept finding unopened pots of paint. If she’d had the cash she’d have paid him right then, but she didn’t and she could hardly pay him with a credit card. Ella gave him a hug, he was so kind. She held on to him just a little too long, heard herself sniff as she pulled away.
‘What’s wrong?’ he said. ‘You’re not your usual chipper self.’
‘It’s nothing,’ Ella said, cuffing her nose with her sleeve – not very ladylike.
‘Well it obviously is. Open the door, let us in then tell your Uncle Walt all about it.’
Walt sat patiently on the stairs as Ella paced back and forth across the hallway. She hadn’t intended telling anyone about it, but somehow it all came tumbling out. When she had finished, Walt stood up and patted her on the back.
‘Better?’ he said.
‘Well. Not really. But at least I’ve said it all out loud now, so maybe.’
‘Let’s go down and put that sorrow in The Spring of Life.’
‘What?’
‘You read it from the hatch, WHEN EVIL VISITS, WELCOME IT. WHEN SORROW VISITS, REPEL IT. FEED THE SPRING OF LIFE, RESPECT THE SPRING OF LIFE. So let’s go and put your sorrow in the spring, feed it.’ He was already taking the key from Ella, jiggling it in the lock and guiding her down the stairs.
Ella wasn’t quite sure where this was leading, but went along with it anyway. Once in the cellar, they released the bolts and cranked up the hatch, then stood watching its waters moving calmly beneath them.
‘Say the words,’ Walt said, nudging Ella gently in the ribs.
‘What words?’ Ella heard herself give an embarrassed giggle.
‘You know the words. From here.’ Walt patted his chest and waited with raised eyebrows.
‘Um,’ Ella said, wondering what the hell he expected.
He urged her on with a nod.
‘Um,’ she began again, ‘I wish Sam wouldn’t be so jealous of me, that she would be happy for me and that we can be best friends again.’ She glanced at Walt, who nodded, smiled then looked down at the spring. The waters were swirling violently now, splashing, rising up, slapping against the hatch rim; Ella felt spray on her face.
‘Quick. Shut the hatch. You’ve fed the spring; don’t let it go to waste.’ He ran over to the handle and wound it furiously until it was closed, then threw the bolts across. ‘Better now?’
Ella stopped, listened to her head, listened to her heart. ‘Yes. Yes. I do feel better. That’s weird.’
‘That’s The Spring of Life. Put badness in, get goodness out. Well done. You need to bring your friend Sam down here, sounds to me that she has a lot more sorrow than you.’
Ella laughed. He was joking, wasn’t he? Badness in, goodness out. It was bonkers and as for getting Sam there – well Ella could only hope that one day Sam would get over her jealousy, but she didn’t see that happening anytime soon.
The cavalry arrived and the old lady warbly singing began; they were singing Milkshake, it sounded obscene with every word carefully enunciated.
By noon the bedroom walls and ceiling had had one coat, and the windows had been declared beyond hope.
‘You’ll have to get Gilbert to give you a quote; all the windows are probably the same, good job we’re coming out of the winter and not going into it. Here’s their card, keep it handy, they’ll do any odd jobs that crop up as well as total refurbishment. Very reasonable rates for locals.’
‘Am I a local?’ Ella said, almost to herself, pushing the card into the top pocket of her boiler suit.
‘Of course you are. Your family blood has been in this cottage since it was built, many generations and over three-hundred years ago. So you’re very much a local, more local than many who call themselves locals.’
The whistle sounded in the kitchen and the soup appeared again; Ella was starving and ate two full bowls.
During lunch the chimney sweep arrived, pronounced the bedroom chimney clear for use. Ella was relieved because she didn’t have the money to pay him to sweep it anyway; fo
rtunately he took a bowl of soup as payment for his assessment. He sat at the table with the others; he was middle aged, so apart from Ella the youngest at the table. Yet they all looked perky, amazingly so, in fact they seemed to be getting perkier as the days passed, as though the work was rejuvenating them.
After lunch, another coat of paint on the walls and ceiling, a very light sanding of the floor then all the wood which wasn’t painted was oiled or waxed. Finally the brass bed was polished. By four pm the room was finished and the cavalry were complaining that there hadn’t been a cake break today. Edna promised there would be tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Ella thought. What were they planning for tomorrow?
‘You need help bringing that mattress in?’ Walt asked.
‘You spotted it wedged in my car then?’ She laughed. ‘No, I can manage. I’ll get it soon. I’ve got new bedding too.’
‘Well done, young Ella.’
With the paint brushes and rollers washed out in the old kitchen sink and dripping into a bucket outside, Edna and Walt said their goodbyes. Ella walked down the cottage path with them, Walt offering help with the mattress again.
‘No, I can manage, really I can,’ she said, wondering if that was actually true. She heard the rev of a high powered car as it pulled into the lane. It was Hal. Hal. ‘And if I can’t my friend has just arrived, he’ll help me.’
Edna hugged her, then Walt hugged her, then they left.
‘Are they related to you?’ Hal said, nodding at Edna and Walt’s retreating forms as he locked his car.
‘No, they’re just really friendly. And kind. And helpful. And lovely.’
‘I’m sure they are,’ he said, leaning over and kissing her on the forehead.
Oh God, he smelled gorgeous.
‘Only what with you all dressed as little Teletubbies I thought you must all be related.’ He laughed and Ella play-punched him on the arm. ‘Come on then, show me your palace, let me see these improvements.’
‘I need help with this mattress first.’ Ella opened her car boot.
Hal peered in, looked down at his clothes and Ella saw a flicker of hesitation before he smiled and reached in for it.
Together they manhandled the mattress up the stairs and into her bedroom, then wrestled with the plastic, finally ripping it off and letting the mattress unroll itself on the brass base. They bounced simultaneously onto it, laughing, looking up at the freshly painted ceiling.
It was a lovely room, especially now it was clean and fresh. The ceiling pitched a little where it joined the walls. The window, even though it needed replacing, was pretty with its little panes.
‘So, Ella, this room is looking good. When are you moving in?’ Hal leaned over her, stared right into her eyes. She inhaled his deliciousness, worried about how she smelt herself after a day painting and sweating. As if in answer to that question he pulled away sharply.
‘Next week. I have no choice on that,’ Ella said, sitting up. ‘That’s why we’re working so hard to make it habitable. Of course the big jobs like the kitchen, the bathroom, the windows, they won’t get done for months. And I want to put central heating in, I can’t really cope with these little coal fires everywhere. They look pretty though.’
‘There’s no central heating. How did your relatives cope?’
‘They were obviously made of sterner stuff than me.’
‘Well good for them.’ Hal laughed and got off the bed. ‘Come on, give me the tour.’
She showed him the other bedrooms, similar in size to her own, clean but in need of redecoration. Ella thought that she might not paint them all white. She imagined each room having its own theme, perhaps named after a flower. Images of flowers hand painted onto the lovely oak tongue and groove doors floated before her eyes. She would call her own room daisy because it was white and she would accessorise it with yellow and green. She smiled to herself as she realised that the new bedding she had bought was yellow with a green stripe. She must have already made that decision without being conscious of it. One of the other rooms would be bluebell, another lavender, and the fourth, maybe carnation.
‘You’re miles away,’ Hal said, interrupting her daydream.
‘Sorry, I was just thinking about the colours I’m going to decorate these rooms in. Have a look at the bathroom,’ she said, opening the door to a big beast of a bath, a giant sink with a crack in it and the high-level black plastic cistern complete with rusty chain.
‘Smart toilet,’ Hal laughed.
‘Yes, and it doesn’t work properly either; apparently it’s not the original cistern, it should be white and china. And it’s the only one.’ She gasped, thinking of how she and Sam had bitched at each other over the toilets in their respective homes.
‘Are you all right? You’re not in pain, are you?’ Hal’s brow furrowed in concern, he looked even more attractive.
‘No. No. I’m fine. Just had a falling out with my best friend; you could almost say that toilet is to blame. Well, partly anyway.’
Hal raised his eyebrows inviting more.
Ella smiled but didn’t elaborate; since throwing her sorrow into the spring that morning, she hadn’t felt too bad about the row and she didn’t want to rake those feelings up again.
‘Come on, let me show you downstairs.’
They walked through the rooms, which despite being thoroughly cleaned still seemed dark and drab, not helped by the light outside beginning to fade. These rooms might need to be white, Ella thought as they made their way into the kitchen.
‘This is um…’ Hal started to say, then stopped.
Ella looked at him, smiled, caught his eye.
‘I think the words you’re looking for are absolutely revolting,’ Ella said and laughed loudly. Hal joined in. ‘To be honest I don’t know where to start. That thing over there, I call it The Beast,’ Ella pointed to the big old solid fuel range cooker standing between two bizarre little cupboards, ‘is truly hideous but apparently works really well. They’ve been heating up our lunchtime soup on it every day. And tomorrow, Edna says she’s going to bake a cake in it, just to prove to me how good it is.’
‘Rip it out,’ Hal’s tone was very decisive. ‘Rip it all out, get something sleek and modern and white, with reflective surfaces to brighten it all up. It’s like living in the dark ages.’
‘I know. Look at the sink.’
They turned around and looked at the opposite wall. The sink was long and shallow and brown. The taps hung above it, their pipes running along the length of the room and disappearing through the wall.
Hal grimaced. ‘Like I said, rip it out. Start again. Have you got hot water? There are two taps.’
‘Not sure. There is a funny coal boiler in another little room, but it’s not to be used. I want proper central heating, radiators, everything; I want to be cosy in the winter. And my water is supplied by my own spring. Have you ever heard of such a thing?’ Ella laughed.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I have my own spring, beneath the cottage. That’s why it’s called Spring Cottage and it supplies my water and sometimes it supplies water to some of the other cottages. They’re all really excited about it. They say the water is good for you.’ Ella laughed again, ‘I think they’re all mad.’
‘So where is this spring?’
‘Downstairs, in the cellar. Come and see. We’ve painted it out, it had to be first. It’s very important, apparently.’
Ella unlocked the door and showed Hal the way. He stood in the middle of the cellar and did a slow circle, taking it all in.
‘Why all the flowers?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. We have to respect the spring, and stuff…’ She glanced over at the hatch. ‘It’s written on there, if you can make any sense of it.’ She was being dismissive, and she wasn’t sure why. When Walt and Edna and the cavalry had been here it had seemed perfectly normal, now it seemed silly.
Hal walked over and read the inscription on the hatch, raised an eyebrow in question.
Ella shook her head and shrugged.
‘When evil visits, welcome it,’ Hal read out. ‘What does that mean?’
Ella shook her head again.
‘When sorrow visits, repel it. What does that mean?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ella said, thinking of how much better she’d felt when she’d put her sorrow in spring. She didn’t want to tell Hal about it, and now, with just the two of them down there, it felt as though she was mocking the spring. And that felt wrong. ‘Come on,’ she said, turning to walk back up the stairs before he read any more out.
‘Aren’t you going to show me your spring,’ he said, his voice was low and he made it sound like a seductive invitation. He stepped next to her, nuzzled her neck and she felt her knees weaken.
‘Another time, maybe.’
‘Come on, Ella,’ he said, kissing her neck, ‘show me your spring.’ He kissed her neck again, moved up to her ear, kissed the lobe.
‘Okay,’ Ella pulled herself away from him.
She walked over and unlocked the little door in the wall, lifted the handle that threw the bolts. Hal’s attention was fully on the spring now, his face rapt as Ella started to wind the hatch open. She could hear the waters passing beneath them; they were calm again, like they had been before Ella threw down her Sam sorrow. Once the hatch was fully open she stood next to Hal and stared down into the spring.
Hal was mesmerised.
‘That’s a lot of water running under your cottage,’ he said, after watching it for a few minutes.
‘I know. But it’s always been here, so I’m not going to worry about it. Three hundred years or something.’
‘And it’s drinkable? It must be if it supplies your cottage,’ Hal mused.
‘Yes. Actually the cavalry were all drinking it yesterday when they were painting. Look there’s a cup on a stick especially for it.’ Ella retrieved a copper mug on a long rod. ‘They called it the sipping cup and they think the water’s good for them,’ she laughed. ‘They call it The Spring of Life.’ She put the sipping cup back in its corner.