A Perfect Cornish Christmas. Phillipa AshleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
said, eager to move the conversation on to other topics. ‘We do have something in common.’
‘I’m intrigued.’ He had a lovely voice, deep and, now she had time to listen more closely, with a definite trace of a Cornish accent.
‘I’ve spent a lot of my life abroad too, and had some exciting times, though in far less dangerous places. I’ve been travelling and working in the Caribbean and Thailand and Australia ever since I left college.’ Ellie didn’t qualify that she was halfway through her degree at the time she left. It was ancient history now anyway, but lately the disastrous relationship that had made her abandon her studies had been on her mind. The man at the heart of that relationship had close links to the local area, and possibly still did.
She’d run away from heartbreak and nineteen years later, she often wondered if she’d stopped running since.
She and Aaron carried on chatting about some of the places they’d been to, and although he made light of his time in the services, Ellie guessed that his tours of Afghanistan and Sierra Leone had probably been very tough. He told her a little more about his plans to set up an events security business based in Porthmellow, which let her know that he was planning to stick around for a little while. In no time, half an hour had whizzed by and the chimes of the hall clock striking seven interrupted them.
‘I’d better not keep you any longer. If I can help with the car repairs, let me know. I could do the work myself if you’d like. A mate has a lock-up in town. Either way, while we’re both around, it would be great to get to know you better. I’ll probably be up here a lot, borrowing a cup of sugar like my mum says they used to in the old days.’
Ellie laughed. She could imagine Evie Carman saying that. ‘You’re welcome to borrow as much sugar as you like.’
She waved him off at the door and watched the taillights of his van as it drove the last few hundred yards down to Cove Cottage. Ellie closed the door behind him and flopped down on the sofa. Finally, she poured herself a whisky, allowing the tangy warmth to make its way through her veins. The shock of the accident on top of a full day on her feet was wearing off. She felt physically exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t let her fall asleep on the sofa as she often did. Her thoughts kept returning to the man who had occupied the love seat for the past half an hour.
Aaron was disturbing in every way and it wasn’t only due to his sheer physical presence. As they’d chatted, the Cornish burr that emerged reminded her of his connections to Porthmellow, which were way deeper than hers. She’d found herself drawn to his quiet confidence, probably acquired from decades of being in command. He looked so at ease in her sitting room, but then he must be used to making himself at home anywhere, even more so than she was.
Yet she felt the need to keep reminding herself that she might not be at Seaholly for long and that he might move on soon if his new business didn’t work out. Neither of them might have the chance to get to know each other that well.
The pang of disappointment was sharper than it ought to be, considering she’d only met Aaron a few hours ago. Then again, it was par for the course where her love life was concerned. Fleeting relationships and brief encounters had been the hallmark of her life. Maybe it was her destiny to drift in and out of people’s lives – and vice versa – and never settle down. After all, the one time she’d wanted to spend her whole life with a man, it had ended in sorrow and chaos. She was already getting too comfortable at Seaholly Manor, a house she couldn’t afford to keep in her wildest dreams. If her parents split up, they wouldn’t be able to keep it either, so she’d better not get any more attached to it, and especially not to her attractive new neighbour.
The phone rang and Ellie dragged herself off the sofa. Argh, she’d meant to call Scarlett to see how she was. It was a good bet this was her now.
‘Ellie? Have I woken you up? You sound sleepy.’
‘No, Scarlett. I wasn’t asleep. In fact, I was about to call you.’ Ellie debated whether to tell her about the ‘bump’ and Aaron then decided to save it for now.
‘Were you? Well, I thought I’d better get in first. I have a favour to ask you.’
‘Um … yes?’
‘Can I come stay at the manor?’
Ellie perked up, pleased to hear Scarlett slightly brighter. ‘Any time. Of course, you know I’d love to see you. Have you decided how long you can stay over Christmas yet? Obviously, I’m hoping to see you before then, too.’
In the brief silence, Ellie heard the clock strike the quarter hour and the wind gusting outside.
Then Scarlett came on the line again. ‘Actually, it’s a bigger favour than that and I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it. Not after my last idea went so badly wrong.’
Sensing she might need the support, Ellie took the phone into the sitting room and sat on the sofa again. What the heck was Scarlett up to now?
‘Shoot. This favour can’t be that bad, can it?’ She said it light-heartedly, because she knew she’d do anything she could to help Scarlett. She was half-expecting it to have something to do with their mum.
‘OK. Deep breath and you can say no if you want to, but the thing is … would you mind very much if I moved in with you?’
Ellie stopped herself from drawing an inward breath. So, shocks really did come in threes.
‘Ellie? Have you fainted?’
‘No, of course not. You know you’re more than welcome. I’d love to have you,’ Ellie said, meaning it but also realising how she’d become used to having the run of the manor lately. ‘What’s brought this about? I thought you loved your flat in Brum.’
‘I do – did – but I’ve been here a few years now and … things have gone downhill since Rafa and I split up.’
‘It wasn’t a vintage year for you, was it?’
‘I don’t care about him any more, the git,’ Scarlett said defiantly, although Ellie guessed it was largely bravado. ‘But I do care about my business. I was hoping to start working for another big client but they’ve decided they’re cutting back because of “Brexit-related uncertainties” so that’s not going to happen.’
‘Oh no, I’m sorry, lovely,’ Ellie sympathised. Scarlett sounded pretty down.
She heaved a sigh. ‘I should know by now that these ups and downs come with the territory of being your own boss.’
‘You’ll make it up. You’re a brilliant copywriter. I know you can do it. You’ve had a few setbacks lately so no wonder you feel battered and bruised.’
There was a pause. ‘Yes, you’re right, as usual … after Rafa and then Christmas I haven’t trusted my judgement on all kinds of stuff. Men, people in general, and even looking for new work. My judgement feels skewed, as if I’m off kilter with the world a bit. Does that sound stupid?’
‘Of course not, lovely. What happened would shake anyone’s confidence, but you have to believe that you’re still the same old Scarlett we know and love.’
‘That’s just it … the old Scarlett might not be enough …’
Ellie wanted to reach down the phone to hug her sister.
‘But,’ Scarlett’s voice brightened. ‘I do have one piece of good news on the work front. A rival screw manufacturer outside Exeter wants me to take on all their copywriting now I don’t have a conflict of interest. They can’t give me quite as much work as Rafa’s company did, but it’s too good an opportunity to turn down because let’s face it, I do know a lot about screws. Of course, it’s a long way from Brum but then I started thinking … Exeter … that’s not too far from Ellie.’
Actually, thought Ellie, while admiring Scarlett’s optimism, it was over a hundred miles away, but she didn’t want to burst her sister’s bubble.
‘And