‘I see.’
‘I haven’t seen him for years. Not since I was nineteen. He was my tutor at college and he was married.’
He exhaled. ‘Feck.’ Ellie was momentarily thrown off course.
‘Did you think I was too nice for an affair?’ she said, half joking.
‘Nice doesn’t have to mean you never do something you might regret. Wait, that sounds judgemental and it’s not meant to be.’
‘I do regret it. At the time I thought it was the best decision in the world. The only thing to do.’
‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and don’t I know it.’ His tone had an edge, as if he understood how it felt to have regrets. Ellie waited for him to elaborate but he turned the focus back to her. ‘So you fell for this guy. How did it happen?’
‘It was everything you’d imagine. Julian said his marriage was in trouble, that he’d leave his wife. I believed it because I was besotted and I wanted to believe it. The blame lies with both of us. He had a young child. I slept with him. I got pregnant and he couldn’t wait to get rid of me or the baby. I decided to have a termination because I couldn’t see what kind of future I could offer the baby.’
‘Jesus, Ellie. What a bastard. You must have been traumatised by the whole experience.’
‘I was … and I couldn’t stand to be near him again, so I dropped out of college and went travelling and, until last summer after Joan died, I carried on moving.’
He swore again. ‘I’m very sorry. This bastard has obviously left a deep scar.’ She felt a wave of genuine empathy roll from him and embrace her, and realised she was falling even more deeply for him.
She tried to sound philosophical. ‘It’s long healed and it was partly self-inflicted.’
‘I don’t buy that. You were a teenager and he was supposed to be in a position of trust. Sounds like he also fed you a pack of lies about his relationship.’
‘Maybe, but I wasn’t exactly a child and it wasn’t a one-off. I slept with him a few times and I accepted his lies because it suited me.’
‘You can’t possibly know that,’ he said.
‘Until very recently, I thought those days were all behind me. It’s now I’ve stopped moving around, in the quiet and the stillness, that I’ve let the past creep up on me and thought about the future.’
Aaron let the pause in the conversation stretch out before he replied, perhaps eager to pick his words carefully, given what she’d shared. ‘I know where you’re coming from. There are parts of my past I can’t shake off, and now I’ve left the daily discipline and routine of army life, I’ve had too many moments to dwell on regrets and “what might have been”. The past does come back to haunt us.’
Ellie thought of her own family’s past: her mother’s affair and of her own fling with Julian Mallory. ‘We can’t let it take over. Have to keep moving forward.’
‘The guy. The prof.’ Aaron injected the word ‘prof’ with so much contempt, Ellie had to smile at his protectiveness. ‘Does his wife know about the two of you?’
‘I’ve asked myself that many times and I’ve concluded that she must have known what type of man he was. I thought no one at college had found out about our affair, but I think that’s naïve. I would be amazed if I was the only student – the only woman – he’s had an affair with. I thought I was special until I told him about the pregnancy. Then I realised he was a liar and a fraud. Such a massive disappointment. So, secrets can come back to bite us when we least expect it. I vowed I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Maybe that’s why I never stayed in one place long enough to get involved.’
‘And now?’
‘I’m still here after eighteen months. That’s going some.’
‘And I’m still here after two months, which is a bloody good start. I plan on staying around a lot longer too if you’ll put up with me.’ He looked into her eyes and kissed her. She knew how that kiss would end, and where.
A while later, lying naked under a rug in front of the fire, Ellie nestled in the crook of Aaron’s arm and idly traced patterns on his chest with her finger by the lamplight. His caramel skin was hot and sheened in perspiration after they’d made love, and she could feel the beating of his heart as a pulse under her fingertips. She wanted to lie there and feel that pulse forever. In that moment, she realised that she was in too deep with Aaron to get out without a great deal of pain.
All the bad feelings of the past rushed in: the tears, the lonely nights, the disbelief and the sense of loss and betrayal. The grief when she realised that Julian was never coming back. The panic when she discovered she was pregnant and the unexpected grief of losing a baby she hadn’t wanted. The abortion might have been ‘for the best’, but it had left her bereft and wandering in the darkness for so long.
Tears stung her eyes and without warning, spilled onto her cheeks. She gulped back a sob.
‘Ellie? Sweetheart?’
Aaron’s voice reached her but his words were a blur through the hot tears. She tried to push him away.
‘Hey, wait. No.’
He held her arm, gently preventing her from getting up from the floor. It was all she needed.
He propped himself up on one arm and gazed into her face. ‘Ghosts from the past?’
‘Only one tiny ghost of what might have been.’
His face mirrored her pain. He gathered her to him again. ‘I am so sorry, sweetheart. So very sorry.’
‘M-me too.’ The loss of Julian and his child, held back for decades, engulfed her. He held her while she cried, long shuddering sobs, tears wetting his chest as she clung onto him.
‘It’s OK,’ he soothed. ‘You let it out. It’s OK.’
She let the agony and regrets of the past years pour out, not that she could have stemmed the flood now she’d allowed herself to grieve again. She’d never told a living soul about the loss and betrayal she really felt. Not even Scarlett knew about the baby. But Ellie had trusted Aaron with her deepest secret. He said nothing, simply stroked her hair and enveloped her in his strong, warm embrace. It was weird and she couldn’t quite explain it, but she finally felt she’d reached a safe haven.
She didn’t know how long it was before her body quietened and she rested her forehead against his chest, unable to look him in the eyes.
‘Oh God, I’ve cried all over y-you. I am so sorry.’
‘Don’t you dare say sorry again. And I’ll dry.’
Laughter bubbled through the tears.
‘Here you go.’
He handed her a bunch of tissues from the coffee table.
She wiped her face and blew her nose. So romantic … but then, she already knew in her heart that she didn’t have to pretend with Aaron.
‘Th-thanks. What am I like?’
‘Like a normal human being. Like someone who’s been hurt very badly and held it back for a long time.’
‘I thought I’d left it behind long ago. The termination felt right at the time and it was very early. I told myself it was for the best, but I still felt as if I’d been torn apart. I didn’t tell my parents and I only told Scarlett about the affair with Julian a few weeks ago. Now I’m older, I wonder if bottling it all up was a mistake.’
‘For God’s sake, don’t think that. You do your best at the time. We’ve all gone over and over things we should have done. I know I have a hundred times. When my unit lost people, I asked myself if it was because of something I did or didn’t do, no matter how small or loosely connected. I asked myself “why not me? Why am I alive and in one piece and a mate isn’t?” I still do, but I’ve learned to silence the voices for a little while longer than I used to. I don’t let them dominate my life all the time.’ He looked down into her face. ‘I don’t want you to let bad memories take over either.’
‘I won’t. This was a one-off. I’m not sure where it sprang from.’ She wiped her eyes again, a little ashamed of pouring out such angst to him. ‘Thanks for taking it, for being here.’
‘Hey, I might look tough but
I’m a big softy underneath. I’ve had hardened squaddies and stiff-upper-lip officers crying on me. There’s nothing you can throw at me that would make me run away.’
She laughed. He seemed to have his mum’s empathy.
He kissed her. ‘I’m not your cowardly, lying prof. I’m not going anywhere.’
Still magnificently naked, Aaron threw the rug off to put some more wood on the fire. He pulled some more cushions from the sofas and they sat, propped up against them, watching the glow and the baubles and tinsel shimmering in the soft light. The cherubic angel still had a sheen, even though her smile had all but faded away.
‘You’ll be with your mum and Scarlett all Christmas Day?’ Aaron asked, stroking her hair idly.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m at my mum’s with Gemma and her brood.’ He grimaced.
She was instantly on the alert. ‘You’re not looking forward to that?’
‘Like a hole in the head.’
Ellie stifled a squeak of horror but a grin spread across Aaron’s face. ‘I’m joking. I love them, even if the pair of them have an answer for everything. They used to send me letters and parcels, you know. Every box we got, there was something in it from each of them. Lyra drew me pictures – me shooting people sometimes, but I think she meant well. Ronan used to send me his Haribos. Sometimes the packets hadn’t even been opened …’
Ellie burst out laughing, as much in relief as amusement. Aaron genuinely seemed to love his nephew and niece.
‘Even when they got older, they’d write a funny card or send me selfies. They’re great kids. Gemma’s done a good job.’
‘Sounds like it.’
‘I hope I can be half as good a parent as she is.’ He looked at Ellie and her heart felt full to bursting. ‘One day.’
She didn’t need to say anything. He’d given his answer and all her fears had evaporated.
‘If you don’t have plans, why don’t you come over on Christmas Eve?’ he asked.
‘I’d love to.’
‘Great. I can’t think of a better way to spend it.’ He propped himself up on one arm and looked at her. ‘I meant what I said. I won’t let you down. I’d never let you down. You mean a lot to me, Ellie, and I want us to be together. All I ask is that you trust me.’
‘Trust you? That sounds serious.’ Ellie tried to cover her unease with a smile. Aaron’s words had stirred up a memory from long ago, and it wasn’t a happy one.
‘It is, because I’m serious about you. I want you to be part of my future and …’ He paused to draw a soft breath before going on determinedly. ‘I swear I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.’
Ellie was taken aback. She wasn’t sure what he meant by whatever it took, but she was convinced he meant every word. She took a leap of faith, gambling that she wouldn’t fall headlong into the abyss, not with someone like Aaron. ‘Of course I trust you.’
They got up and had dinner in front of the fire before they finished decorating the tree, laughing and reminiscing over the decorations, talking about happy times. Ellie decided that over Christmas, she would ask her mother about her plans for Seaholly Manor, although after this evening, she was seriously considering the possibility of a move into Cove Cottage with Aaron … but then what about Scarlett?
Ellie couldn’t keep a grip on reality; she felt she was holding onto the string of a balloon, floating one minute, and getting bumped along the ground the next.
‘Trust me,’ he’d said, and she wanted to, but a tiny, unhealed corner of her soul held back.
Aaron was no Julian, and she was no lovesick teenager, and yet, they were the exact same words that Julian had said to her. Right up until he’d broken her heart.
Chapter Twenty
Ellie was wrong, Scarlett thought, throwing back the curtains on Solstice Festival morning. It was calm and dry, with even a hint of blue in the sky over the sea. No storms, no giant waves and no force-ten hurricane. Phew.
Feeling more optimistic than she had for a while, she took her breakfast into the study and worked on the copy for a website for Zennor and Ben.
Since they’d dug out the costumes, Scarlett had been home to see her father for a few days and to catch up with her old friends. Her dad seemed to be coping well enough; he could look after himself, but it broke her heart to see him rattling around the empty house. Marcus and Heidi lived nearby and had him over for dinner or to babysit the boys, and he had his woodturning group and cycling friends, but he must miss Anna.
He also brushed off any invitation to come to Cornwall for Christmas, saying that while he knew how much she and Ellie wanted them all to be together, it wouldn’t feel right in the circumstances and he’d be better off with Marcus.
No matter how hard she tried, Scarlett was always subconsciously on the alert for any tiny sign that he might be treating her differently. However, in the current circumstances, with emotions still running high, it was impossible to tell what ‘normal’ was, or even remember how things had been.
Funny how many things we take for granted, she thought, on the long journey back to Seaholly Manor, until our world is turned upside down. She wondered again if she should move in with him … a feeling that had become stronger when she’d met up with her old swimming group friends in Birmingham. Now, back at Seaholly, she felt the same pull to her new home.
She’d never felt more torn in two.
Maybe, she thought, she’d feel better later when she threw herself into the festivities. After all, that’s what it was for: a midwinter party of warmth and revelry to mark the passing of the longest night and the turning of the year towards the light.
She hoped so, because the fog that rolled in from the far west during the morning was anything but festive. At first it was merely a bank of cloud looming on the horizon, but now it was slowly crawling over the hill towards Porthmellow.
She worked through lunch before stopping mid-afternoon to help Jude get ready for the event. The harbourside was ringing with the sound of stalls being constructed but it seemed strange there was so much activity in the midst of so much stillness. There was hardly a breath of wind and, as it was low tide, the waves barely whispered onto the beach. All the rocks were exposed like giant jagged teeth, and mirror images of the clock tower were reflected in the rock pools.
By the time she had set up the stall with Jude, dusk was falling. As she drove home to get changed, she saw the mist had thickened in the valley, and she couldn’t even see the house until she rolled onto the drive. The scene reminded her of one of Joan’s novels, a historical romance about a gentleman smuggler and his aristocratic lover: Lady of the Mist. It was clear Seaholly had provided inspiration for her aunt’s stories.
Ellie arrived back from the café while Scarlett was putting on her costume. It had taken a lot of research on the Internet, scrounging off family and scouring charity and pound shops. She’d wasted far too much time when she should have been writing, but she had to admit it had been fun.
The Solstice Festival was a celebration of some of the traditional midwinter and old Christmas customs that used to be observed in Cornwall. Jude had explained that it wasn’t based on any single event, but that it was a mash-up of all kinds of traditions and basically an excuse for a bit of a knees-up with fancy dress, singing, drinking and dancing.
‘Mock formal’ was the loose term for some of the costumes, which had their origins in the poor people’s versions of their rich neighbours’ fashion. The outfits were an eclectic mix, some based on old pagan themes and bedecked with holly and mistletoe to reflect the season. Others referenced Victorian-style clothing and gothic elements. A quick google of the Penzance event had showed people in everything from Jester-style tatters, to cross-dressing and wearing animal costumes. The one item that seemed de rigueur was a mask.
Scarlett’s usual style was skinny jeans, sweater and Puffa jacket these days. It felt ages since she’d dressed up and she’d certainly never worn anything as flamboyant as the ense
mble she’d laid out on the bed. Auntie Joan, who favoured long skirts and flowing dresses in vibrant colours, wouldn’t have been seen dead in a pair of jeans. She’d probably approve of the costume though. Scarlett wished again that her aunt were here to see her.
She’d gone for an ankle-length black skirt with leggings underneath to keep out the cold. The charity shops for miles around had started displaying festival costumes for a few weeks now and she’d found a white blouse with a lacy ruff at the neck to wear under Joan’s jacket.
The hat was a traditional type, which she’d found in a charity shop. Scarlett didn’t even know how to describe it. It looked a bit like ladies’ Victorian riding headgear: shorter than a top hat, and more like a bowler with a flat crown. She’d decorated it with holly from the garden to make it more Christmassy.
After tying her hair back into a ponytail, she went heavy on the kohl and added a splash of plum-red matte lipgloss. With the addition of dangly earrings, also cadged from Auntie Joan’s collection of costume jewellery, she felt almost ready. Nothing seemed too over the top for the festival, but she wanted to look mysteriously gothic rather than like a clown.
Finally, she added a black lacy eye mask from a pound shop and fingerless lacy gloves. It was safe to say that she didn’t recognise herself in Auntie Joan’s full-length mirror. A vampish creature from another age stared back at her and practised an alluring smile, which made her real self groan with embarrassment. She tried a moody pout, but the result was more Victoria Wood than Victoria Beckham.
‘Wow!’
Startled, Scarlett spun round.
Ellie stood in the doorway, hands on hips. ‘You look absolutely stunning.’
Scarlett wrinkled her nose. ‘Really? Not too over the top?’
Ellie came over to make a closer inspection. ‘Not for a solstice festival. I saw the TV coverage of last year’s event in Penzance and I think you’ve caught the look perfectly.’
A Perfect Cornish Christmas Page 18