Storms Over Blackpeak (13 page)

‘Here.’ Quickly, Carr pulled out the chair next to his.

Lizzie sat down on Cally’s other side. ‘This looks lovely,’ she smiled.

‘What is it?’ Valentina enquired.

‘Mutton,’ Lizzie supplied, since no one else seemed inclined to reply. ‘Slow-cooked in the oven.’

‘Remember’ — Valentina placed her hand on Ash’s wrist — ‘the roast goat at the
bodegón
?’

‘Yeah,’ said Ash shortly. Valentina removed her hand as he picked up his fork.

‘It is horrible,’ she explained to Lizzie and Carr, her eyes
sliding over Cally between them, ‘but it is the only restaurant in the only village for fifty kilometres from my father’s house, and to get there is a very beautiful ride.’ She turned to Ash.

‘Is it not?’

‘It is.’

‘People always say,’ Lizzie offered into the silence that followed, ‘how spectacular the
pampas
are.’

‘Yes.’ Valentina sounded grateful. ‘We do not have your mountains, of course. But to see the sun set there, it is something. And the moon. To ride as it rises …’ Her voice softened. ‘Do you remember?’ she asked Ash.

For the first time, Lizzie saw Ash look Valentina in the face. ‘I remember,’ he said, his own voice soft. ‘It was something.’

‘More kale, anyone?’ said Lizzie brightly, proffering the dish.

Carr held out his hand. ‘I’ll have some.’

Sliding his knife and fork together at the end of the meal, Ash stole a quick glance across the table at Cally. ‘That was great,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’

Cally nodded without looking up.

‘Really good,’ said Carr.

It was actually true: Cally’s cooking was really coming along. Lizzie might just about have to revise her opinion of mutton.

‘Very nice,’ Valentina smiled, her hand sliding over Ash’s forearm.

Rising quickly, Cally began to clear the plates.

‘I’ll get the rest.’ Seeing Carr start to get up, Lizzie swooped, making good her escape from the dining room before he could beat her to it.

On Sunday morning, Lizzie opened her eyes as Carr drew back the curtains on a blue sky feathered with sunlit mist, the snow-clad slopes of the hills peeping through the low cloud. Sitting up, Lizzie reached for the cup of coffee she knew would be waiting on the bedside table beside her.

‘So, what do you have to do today?’ she asked, as Carr studied the hills.

‘Nothing’ — he turned back to her with a smile — ‘that can’t wait.’

Lizzie stretched happily. ‘What about Ash and Valentina?’

‘Not here. They’ve taken the horses out.’

Some hours later, having made it down to the kitchen at last, Lizzie leaned over the back of Carr’s chair, reading Saturday’s paper over his shoulder while she waited for the jug to boil. Outside, the sun was already lowering and the hills were starting to grey. Hearing the chug of Ash’s ute in the drive, she undraped herself reluctantly.

‘I guess they’re back.’

‘Yeah.’ Carr turned the page.

Lizzie watched Ash get out of the ute and open the passenger door. Valentina, svelte — if six inches shorter — in jodhpurs and riding boots, climbed out and slipped her arm through Ash’s, leaning into him as they crossed the gravel. Well, they certainly looked like they’d had a good time. Whatever they’d been doing out there all day had taken some of the polish off Valentina: her cheeks were flushed, her jodhpurs were muddy, and her hair was escaping its chignon.

The kitchen door opened. Valentina, eyes sparkling, appeared below Ash’s arm, dangling her mud-spattered riding boots in one hand. ‘Where is the girl?’ she beamed.

There was a second’s silence.

‘We clean our own boots around here,’ Carr said. ‘Ash’ — the
edge in his voice sharpened — ‘show your friend where the tap is.’

‘Come on.’ Ash’s voice was gentle. Laying his other hand on Valentina’s arm, he shut the door.

Carr pushed back his chair. ‘What,’ he scowled, ‘is that girl doing here?’

‘Well, it’s only a guess, you understand,’ Lizzie told him lightly, ‘but I’m pretty sure she’s planning to marry your son.’

Chapter
TWELVE

That night, back at last from what had turned into something of a South American tour, Ella climbed out of Damian’s Jeep and retrieved her bag from the back. ‘See you tomorrow,’ she told him. ‘Thanks for the lift.’ Shivering in the icy Queenstown night, she hesitated, looking up at the Hallidays’ apartment. There didn’t seem to be any lights on.

Damian wound down the window beside her. ‘Want me to walk you up?’

‘No, it’s okay.’ She paused again. ‘Luke’s here.’ At least, she hoped he was. The shoot had overrun and they’d missed the direct flight back from Sydney. Luke hadn’t responded when she’d texted him to say she would be four hours late.

Wheeling her bag to the door, she typed in the entry code. Silence greeted her inside. With more confidence than she felt, she waved Damian off and walked upstairs, bumping her bag behind her.

At the sight of the gas fire’s flicker, a lump rose in her throat. Oh, thank God.

‘Hey.’ In the armchair beside the fire, Luke stretched sleepily. ‘You made it.’

Ella looked down at him as he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, flexing his shoulders.

‘I wasn’t sure you were here,’ she said.

Outside, a full moon was hitting the snow on the mountains, and the room was bright enough to see Luke frown. ‘Where else would I be?’

‘I thought …’ Ella shook her head. ‘There weren’t any lights on. I thought you might have got tired of waiting for me and … gone.’

Rising out of his chair, he put both hands on her shoulders and kissed her slowly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Luke rested his forehead on hers. ‘You’re the one who keeps leaving.’

She buried her face in his rumpled shirt. God, he felt good.

He stroked her hair. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘Not really.’

‘You want to get something?’

‘I think it’s too late,’ Ella sighed. ‘Unless you know somewhere?’

‘Well, I did have a late reservation …’ Luke checked the time on his phone. ‘But I think that’s probably gone. There’s food in the fridge — I could make us some pasta.’

‘You went to the supermarket?’

‘I thought somebody should.’

‘Thank you.’ She kissed him. ‘For everything.’

‘Go put your bag away. I’ll pour us a drink.’

Luke headed into the kitchen, flicking the lights on as he passed. His phone beeped. Ella glanced from the bedroom doorway in time to see him pull a face as he checked the screen.

‘Who is it?’

‘Oh, nobody.’

‘Nobody?’

‘Suzy. Suzy Liddell. You met her at that cocktail thing a few months back.’

Ella cast her mind back. Oh, yes: blonde, five-foot-nine, looked like she’d just fallen off the cover of
Vogue
. ‘What’s she texting you for?’

Luke looked at the screen again. ‘To ask me if I’m okay, apparently.’

At eleven-thirty at night? She watched him scroll down. ‘What else did she say?’

He looked up, meeting her gaze. ‘That she’d heard you were out of town.’

Jesus, she’d only been gone ten days. ‘Is there something’ — Ella strove to keep her tone light — ‘you need to tell me?’

‘About Suzy? God, no.’ Luke shook his head dismissively. ‘That’s ancient history.’

‘And what about current affairs? Any developments I should know?’

‘No,’ he said flatly, still holding her eyes.

Ella watched his face carefully.

Luke’s gaze hardened. ‘Here.’ He threw her his phone. ‘Go through it, if you want.’

Steeling herself not to look at it, she shook her head. He was too smart to keep anything incriminating anyway. Ella threw the phone back. ‘I believe you.’

‘Clearly you don’t.’ His voice was icy.

God. The stupid thing was, she did believe him. For some
reason Ella couldn’t quite fathom, she trusted Luke. Or at least, ninety-five per cent of her did. If only the other five per cent would stop telling her what a bad plan that was.

‘Look, I’m not the relationship police,’ she told him, equally coldly. ‘What you do is up to you. If you’re bored with this—’

‘Christ, Ella—’

She held up her hand. ‘If you want out, just say.’

‘I don’t,’ Luke snapped, ‘want out.’ He glared at her. ‘Do
you
?’

Ella hesitated. Well, there was something to be said for jumping before you were pushed. ‘No,’ she had to admit. ‘I don’t.’

Letting out a long breath, Luke rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Then for God’s sake take your coat off, put that bloody suitcase away and let’s have something to eat. I’m starving.’

Having fallen asleep, at last, in the double luxury of her own bed and Luke’s arms, Ella found herself wide awake again a couple of hours later. Trying not to wake Luke, she stretched. It must be — what? midday? — in Chile. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the bedroom, she watched a yellow moon sink behind the mountains, turning the snow and the crests of the waves in the lake to gold. God, it was beautiful. She was rapidly reaching the conclusion that this was the best view in the world. In this light, it was like an Ansell Adams photograph. Slipping quietly out of bed, she got up and padded over to the window.

When she turned a few minutes later, Luke was sitting up looking at her, his arms behind his head.

‘Did I wake you?’

‘You did.’

‘Sorry,’ she smiled.

‘I’m not complaining.’

Smile broadening, she started towards the bed.

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘Stay there. Just as you were.’

Ella turned back, with less concentration this time, to the window. She heard the duvet slide. Arriving behind her, Luke lifted her hair over her shoulder, his lips brushing her nape and earlobe. Automatically, she arched her back towards him.

‘Shh.’ His voice was low. ‘Relax.’

He stroked her upper arms, his hands brushing under her breasts as he ran them slowly over her body. For a split second, a vision of Ash soothing his spooky horse popped into Ella’s mind. She buried it quickly.

Luke’s mouth was on her neck, his fingers lightly tracing the line of her tingling spine before his hand slid between her thighs. She leaned against the hard muscles of his chest, the glow spreading slowly through her body from the point of his hand.

When she opened her eyes, she could see him watching her face in the glass.

‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘when you’re going to come. I want to be inside you.’

Ella arrived at work the next morning in a jubilant mood. It really was a beautiful day. She set the contents of Damian’s post-office box and a tray of takeaway coffees down on the studio bench.

‘This looks interesting,’ she said, holding up a small but heavy carton.

‘Ah!’ Damian looked up from the light-box. ‘The new lens. Go ahead, open it up.’

Reverently, Ella peeled off the brown paper and delved into the box. After some digging, she located another box, and inside it, cradled in precision-cut foam, the prototype portrait lens. She handed the box over. ‘Well, it looks the part.’

Damian raised his silver eyebrows at her and grinned. ‘Let’s see if it’s all it’s cracked up to be.’ Snapping the lens onto a camera body, he nodded at the stool in front of the canvas backdrop.

Well used to being Damian’s guinea pig, Ella sat down, sipping her coffee while he fine-tuned the lights around her.

‘I spoke to my booking agency this morning,’ Damian said, sending shadows moving over her face. ‘They’ve got us a couple of extra gigs after Berlin. You better pack for another week in Europe.’

‘Back-to-back jobs?’ Ella’s heart sank.

‘Three days off between them so far.’ He began to work the camera around her. ‘You can come back if you want. Me, I’m staying put over there.’

Three days. With flights and the time difference, that would give her, oh, about eight hours back home. Her mind rolled back to last night. Maybe it would be worth it …

Damian’s camera whirred. ‘What were you thinking about, just then?’ he demanded, moving closer.

Ella smiled. ‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Look left for me,’ he ordered. ‘Yeah? You should think about it more often.’

Back in the apartment that night, having walked in, kissed her, and loosened his tie, Luke produced a set of keys from his jacket pocket. ‘Here, I believe these are yours. You left them up in Christchurch.’

Ella beamed at him. ‘You brought the Land Cruiser down?’

‘Not personally.’ Luke looked a mite horrified at the thought. ‘But yes, it’s in the garage.’

She slid her arms round him. ‘Thank you. Again.’ Remembering that she had less good news of her own to impart, Ella looked away as he slipped off his jacket.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I have to stay another week in Europe.’

There was a silence. ‘So that’s,’ Luke frowned, ‘
two
weeks, now.’

‘Not quite,’ she argued, pathetically. ‘You could come over.’

He rubbed his forehead. ‘Ella, I can’t. Wanaka’s really kicking off. I’m going to be up and down for the next month at least. There’s no way I can take a week off.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Luke shook his head.

She studied him. ‘You don’t want me to go, do you?’

‘Well of course I don’t want you to go.’

‘Do you want me to quit?’

‘Quit what? Your job?’ He stared at her. ‘Of course not.’

‘But you think I should say no to Europe.’

‘That’s not what I said.’

‘That’s what it sounded like.’

‘Hey,’ Luke’s voice had a dangerous edge, ‘don’t pick a fight with me because you’re feeling guilty. We’re on the same side.’

‘And what side is that?’

‘Your side.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Look. You have a career. Places you want to go, things you want to achieve. I get that. Believe me — I do.’

‘But?’

‘There is no but.’

‘Yes, there is.
But
we never see each other.
But
I’m never here.’

‘All the things you want for yourself,’ Luke ran his hand over his face, ‘I don’t want you to give up any of them. I want those things for you, too.’

‘Then what,’ Ella felt her voice starting to break, ‘are we supposed to do?’

His eyes softened into a smile as he shook his head at her. ‘Put up with the downside.’

With the Suzy Liddells of the world circling? Ella couldn’t quite manage a smile in return. ‘For how long?’

‘For as long as we have to.’

God, she’d like to believe that was possible.

Luke brushed a tear from her cheek. ‘There’s a way,’ he said firmly, ‘for us to make this work. Look at me.’

Ella looked into his eyes as he raised her chin.

‘We can do this, Ella. Trust me.’