by Alex Brown
Grace swivelled around to see Ellis approaching from his bedroom, carrying a bottle of wine and a brown paper bag. ‘Hey, what’s up?’ He dumped everything on the table and went to her. Through the tears which still filled her eyes, she could feel his arms folding around her and pulling her in close, instinctively comforting her. ‘What’s happened? Is it your mother? Has she done something to you?’ he asked, the concern clearly palpable in his voice.
But Grace couldn’t speak. She couldn’t tell him because his kindness made her cry even more and she instinctively dipped her head into his chest. And they stood together in silence for what felt like forever. Until Ellis moved his hands on to Grace’s shoulders and stood back just enough to see her face. After tilting her chin up so as to look straight into her eyes, he spoke in a soft voice, his toffee-coloured eyes searching hers, pleading to know why she was so distressed.
‘Grace, darling, please tell me why you are crying?’ he asked, gently dabbing his thumb on her cheek in an attempt to stem the tears. She opened her mouth, hesitated as another sob caught in her throat and then, as if on autopilot and in slow motion, her lips moved towards his. And he responded, sending a spark of pleasure to the very core of her, taking some of the anguish away. She could feel his fingertips stroking the side of her face, his other hand tangled in her copper curls. His tongue entwined with hers making her tingle all over with longing for him.
After what felt like an eternity of bliss mingled with a feeling of heartache for Grace, they pulled apart and Ellis rested his forehead on hers. More silence followed, except for the sound of the cicadas singing in time to the beat of her heart. The still-warm evening sun furled around her bare legs and arms, making the moment feel even more intense and sensual.
‘Oh, Grace,’ he said softly, just holding her until the tears stopped flowing. But then when they had, he lifted his hands away from her body and gently uttered, ‘We can’t do this …’
And suddenly Grace felt a surge of panic.
So intense.
She backed off and turned on her heel.
He reached out a hand to stop her.
She pushed it away and ran as fast as she could from the balcony and into her bedroom. Once there she ran into the en-suite bathroom and, after closing the door, she made sure it was locked. With both hands on the edge of the washbasin, she leaned forward and then glanced up at her reflection in the mirror as if searching her own face for the answer.
What had she done?
She pressed the tips of her fingernails hard into the skin on the palms of her hands as if to bring herself to her senses.
How could she?
But in the moment she had realised. She was falling in love with Ellis, wasn’t she? She knew it for sure now. Maybe a teeny-tiny bit. As if the small amount that she could admit to somehow exonerated her. Because she couldn’t bring herself to even consider if it was any more than that; her Catholic upbringing just wouldn’t allow it. For she felt shameful even having such feelings or even thinking such thoughts – or were those Cora’s critical words whizzing around inside her head? Tart. Home-wrecker. Slapper. That’s what her mother would say. And, worse than that, she had kissed him. Initiated it. Kissed a man she had no right to kiss. What on earth was she thinking? She was no better than the Perky Yoga One. She let the thought linger for a while. And then something else came to her … Ellis did kiss her right back. Of that she was sure. So did that make him no better than Matthew? She certainly hadn’t forced him to. He could have moved away from her. Made an excuse. Something. Or just downright rejected her and asked what the hell she thought she was doing. He was the one with the girlfriend, after all.
But deep down, Grace knew she was just procrastinating and there was no denying it. For it was true. She was falling for Ellis. Like properly falling for him. And she had been since the first moment she set eyes on him in the office back at Cohen’s Convenient Storage Company. But how could she be? He has a girlfriend and you’re a fool. Don’t be that woman, Grace. You are not a Perky Yoga One. So don’t go there. Don’t be the one who will get hurt all over again.
Maybe she should go home now; surely there was a flight tonight? She should get far away from Ellis before she was tempted to kiss him again. They had enough to go on now to try to trace Lara, if she was still alive. Ships sailing to America had passenger lists, didn’t they? Maggie would know for sure. Yes, good idea. Grace made a mental note to call Maggie first thing in the morning and ask how she could go about finding the names of all who had sailed on the Queen Mary from England to America in 1946. The heir-hunter people in America would find Lara, for sure. There was enough money at stake to make it worth their while. Aunt Rachael! Another clue right there. She had helped the Jewish people build new lives in America. Someone was bound to know of her, where she had lived in Manhattan. Grace could feel her body trembling as she raced through all the possible options. All they needed was a tangible clue, a pointer in the right direction, an address to get started with and then Ellis could find Lara when he returned to New York.
To his girlfriend.
Jennifer. Even her name had Hollywood star quality all over it. Just like Jennifer Aniston. Grace had met her once. Well, not met her, exactly, but she had been in the bathroom of a restaurant with Jennifer Aniston one time. It was years ago, when Grace and Jamie had been to see a West End show in London. Chicago. And after the show, they had gone for something to eat and Jennifer had been right there when Grace went to the loo. Looking gorgeous and golden, tiny and twinkling … there was just something quite magical about her. Proper star quality emanated from her. Jennifer had looked just like she did in the movies. Even washing her hands with an assistant standing close by, Jennifer had been gracious and said hello and smiled on catching Grace’s eye in the mirror. Grace had tried to talk but had managed only to let her mouth sag open momentarily before hurriedly reuniting her jaw with the rest of her face as Jennifer had glided away. And that’s exactly how Grace imagined Ellis’s Jennifer to be like. Wondrous and beautiful. Not ordinary, with a sunburnt nose and a serious inferiority complex … that, let’s face it, was not attractive at all.
So Grace turned on the tap and after cupping her hands together she made a little bowl of cold water to splash on her face and bring herself to her senses. This was the second time she had run out on Ellis and it was getting ridiculous. Especially after all the pep talks she had given herself about being so over Matthew. So over the anxiety and the step-counting. And she was. She really felt that she was. She felt different. Lighter and much more like her old self, the person she had been before Matthew … so why was she panicking now? Maybe Ellis did fancy her. Or did he respond to her kiss because he was feeling sorry for her? Or did he respond because he could, and get away with it, just like Matthew had for all those months before she had found out about his dalliance? Maybe she should ask Ellis about Jennifer. Ask what he was playing at when he was about to get engaged. Yes, that’s what she should do. But it wasn’t as easy as all that.
A knock on the door.
Grace turned and with the sound of her own heartbeat drumming in her ears, she managed a wobbly, ‘Yes?’
‘Grace, are you OK?’ Ellis asked softly.
Silence followed.
‘Um …’ she faltered, wondering what to say.
‘Grace, please come out. I can’t talk to you through a door.’
After counting to ten in her head, Grace rubbed her palms across her face to remove any last trace of tears, took a massive breath hoping to invoke a sense of calm and tentatively unlocked the bathroom door.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly, keeping her head down so as to avoid his gaze.
‘What for?’ he asked, concerned.
‘You know …’ she started, flapping a hand around and shrivelling a little inside. Surely he wasn’t going to make her spell it out. ‘For … well … what just happened,’ she finished quickly. Oh God, she wanted to run right back into the bathroom. Instead she swal
lowed and got a grip. ‘For kissing you. I’m very sorry and it will never, ever happen again. You have my word. And please tell Jennifer I was completely out of order. A moment of madness. That’s all. She has absolutely nothing to worry about.’ And she glanced up to see Ellis with his eyebrows dipped. ‘Actually, on second thoughts, don’t say anything to her. She doesn’t need to know that an over-emotional English woman snogged her fiancé-to-be on a hotel balcony and liked it, a lot! No, it will only spoil the engagement for her.’
‘What?’ Ellis shook his head. ‘What are you going on about? What I do is my own business. If I want to kiss a woman then I will. And I will like it. A lot too, if I want to,’ he countered, his eyebrows dipping in the middle even more.
‘But you can’t say that,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘Well, what about Jennifer for starters? Your girlfriend. Or have you forgotten about her?’ Grace became conscious of her voice being far too loud and her left index finger whirling right in front of his face. She jerked her arm back down by her side and huffed out a long breath before folding her arms instead like a petulant teenager.
‘Whoa.’ Ellis held up his palms in defence. ‘Hang on a minute. Let’s just rewind things here.’ He stared at her and Grace wasn’t sure if he was cross, confused or amused as he shook his head as if to gain some clarity. ‘What’s going on here?’
‘Why don’t you tell me?’ she said, sounding far more accusatory than she had intended.
‘Jennifer isn’t my girlfriend!’
‘What?’
‘Is that what you think? Is that why you ran off after kissing me?’ He had his hands on his hips now.
‘Well, yes … sort of.’ Grace fidgeted, bobbing from one foot to the other wishing he wouldn’t be so damn matter-of-fact about it all. Couldn’t he see she was cringing on the inside? And what did he mean, Jennifer wasn’t his girlfriend? She had heard her with her own ears on the phone, talking about the engagement.
‘Sort of?’ he laughed. ‘What do you mean, sort of?’
‘Well, technically you were the one who said to stop. Said we can’t do this …’ Grace said, trying to get her head around this revelation and wondering if he was telling her the truth. Maybe not. Maybe he was lying. Trying to wriggle his way out of what just happened between them. Well, she wasn’t going to be duped …
‘I only said we can’t do this because you were crying, Grace. It wasn’t right … I didn’t want to take advantage when you were clearly vulnerable at that moment. I’m sorry if I made you feel rejected, but I didn’t know why you were crying …’
‘I was upset about Connie … you know her parents took Lara to America and didn’t even tell her? I found a photo of a few stray pages and it was all there in black and white. Connie was so happy when she went to the village, Tindledale, expecting to collect Lara and bring her here to Italy, but the cottage was empty. Imagine that … your child, the person you love more than anything, just gone. Taken away from you. All the dreams and the future life you imagined together just snatched away … It’s cruel and it’s—’
‘Life is cruel,’ he said. ‘But you know, I reckon Connie’s parents thought they were doing the right thing. Protecting Connie and Lara. It was a long time ago and like Nonna Maria said, times were different then. There was a lot of stigma attached to illegitimate children and the mothers of illegitimate children in those days. It’s wonderful that you feel so impassioned by Connie’s story … well, it’s not wonderful that it’s upsetting you this much, that’s not good at all, so maybe take a step back now? For your own sanity.’ He nodded, his eyes full of concern.
‘I know … I’ve got too close,’ she agreed.
‘Why is that? Have you had someone taken from you too? Is that it? Is that why Connie’s story upset you like this?’ he asked, straight to the point as always.
‘Um … yes,’ she said, ‘my ex-boyfriend … he cheated on me, but it was ages ago now,’ and she looked away. ‘It sounds so trivial by comparison … I mean, it’s not the same as a child being take away or your truelove dying as Connie’s Jimmy did … those things are life-altering and devastating and people never get over them. And people cheat all the time, it’s not like I’m the only one it’s happen—’
‘Oh, Grace, please don’t be so hard on yourself,’ he jumped in. ‘There’s no measure or rule book for grief, and that’s what it is when you lose someone, whether it’s a relationship break-up or a death … it’s just a different type of grief. And it comes and goes. You can be over it one day and then weeks, sometimes months later, or even years later, it can reappear to wallop you right in the face when you least expect it.’
‘Thank you,’ she smiled, letting her head dip down to one side. ‘You’re so kind. And not at all like any man I’ve known before … except for Jamie, of course, he’s kind too,’ and she grinned. ‘But he’s gay.’ And she pulled a face and shrugged.
‘Well, for what it’s worth, I think the man who cheated on you lost out, big time.’ Then, gently unfolding her arms, he took her hands in his. ‘And just so you know, Jennifer is my flatmate. And best friend. She’s not my girlfriend … I did have one of those, but she cheated on me too.’ He gave her a wry smile.
Silence followed as his words sunk in.
‘Oh.’ She willed her cheeks not to go bright red like a pair of plum tomatoes – and that’s what she felt like right now … a prize plum. How could she have got it so wrong and jumped to conclusions? She had put two and two together and come up with a trillion pieces that didn’t fit together after all. ‘And I’m sorry you’ve been through the cheating thing too.’
‘Don’t be. I’m over it … well, for today at least.’ And they both laughed. ‘So, tell me why you thought I was getting engaged?’
‘When I answered your phone that time … Jennifer thought I was you and mentioned it, about the picking a venue—’
‘Ah, yes, well she was getting engaged, and she wanted my help to pick a venue … That is until her girlfriend got cold feet and called the whole thing off. As you can imagine, she’s devastated. And I’ve been trying to support her from over here.’
‘Ellis, I’m so sorry … that’s awful,’ Grace said. ‘And I don’t need to imagine … I was engaged too, once upon a time … until I found him in bed with another woman.’
‘You actually walked in on him?’ Ellis said, shaking his head and covering his face with hands.
‘Yes.’
‘I did wonder if you’d had your heart broken. I thought it might explain why you were being so cool with me during our time here.’
‘Cool?’ Grace echoed, wondering how he could think that. Yes, she had been cautious, but then he had a girlfriend, or so she had thought.
‘Yes, cool. You must have known that I was attracted to you, Grace?’ he said softly, making her pulse quicken all over again as he pulled her in close. ‘That I fancy the arse off you?’ He stepped back until they were standing facing each other but not touching. ‘That’s what you say in London, don’t you?’ And he smiled, making her smile too with his attempt at Britishness again, his American accent making it sound funny.
‘Um, err … yes we do, but I, no, err …’ she floundered, inwardly cursing herself for sounding like such a babbling, blithering buffoon and not the nonchalant, sophisticated siren she yearned to be inside her own head. Like one of her screen idols – Audrey, or Marilyn, or even Elizabeth Taylor; she never would have bleated on like this with Richard Burton when they fell in love on the set during the filming of Cleopatra. ‘No, I didn’t realise exactly.’
‘Well, please do realise, exactly. Grace Quinn, I’m crazy about you.’ And it made her blush because nobody had ever said stuff like this to her before, not even Matthew. Come to think of it, Matthew hadn’t ever really been one for any kind of talk of feelings and suchlike. Grand gestures, yes, he had been very good at that … like when he proposed, doing the whole down-on-one-knee thing in the busy restaurant. And he had bas
ked in the congratulations he had received afterwards when complete strangers came over to shake his hand and the women cooed, telling him how they wished they had a guy as romantic as he was. It was funny how things turned out, Grace thought.
‘But tell me something.’ Ellis continued, ‘why did you think I had a girlfriend? Apart from the phone call, of course, which to be fair wasn’t exactly conclusive proof – as you now know,’ he said, playfully tilting his head to one side.
‘Because you said so … in the café, remember? You told Cheryl, the waitress, that your girlfriend was the jealous type,’ she said, letting her voice fade away as it seemed so irrelevant now.
‘That was only to let her down gently. I couldn’t let her come to America and look for a hook-up. She’s just a kid, in college, I guess. It wouldn’t have been right to lead her on.’ He let go of her hands and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Oh Grace, what must you have thought of me? I put it out there so blatantly how I felt about you. I flirted with you. At the airport, the kiss and the embrace …’ He let go of her hands and shoved his own hands inside his jeans pockets. ‘I was so happy to see you. I had missed you. I realised it in Berlin, when I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And then on the train, in the restaurant – I even told you were beautiful – now that’s a come-on if ever there was one, in the piazzetta by the water when the old guy even helped me out …’ He shook his head. ‘Jesus, you must have thought I was such a jerk carrying on like that when I was supposed to have a girlfriend. Why didn’t you say something, ask me outright … if you fancied me too?’ He paused and crouched down slightly until his eyes were level with hers. ‘You do, don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course I do,’ she told him, the relief of being able to tell him making her feel a little lightheaded.
‘Phew.’ He stood back up to his full height and started pacing around the room before stopping and walking to stand in front of her again. ‘You know, we could have got this straight days ago and had so much more fun in this incredibly romantic country …’ He grinned, cheekily, and she glanced sideways, not even wanting to contemplate what might have been, ‘… if you had just told me you felt the same way too.’