The Way to a Woman's Heart (16 page)

‘Yes, but Poll’s idea of normal –’

Ella stopped talking and Billy sat up briskly as the kitchen door flew open.

‘Here we are!’ Poll announced brightly, ushering Trixie into the kitchen, beckoning George in from the garden and casting a frantic eye at the cooker. ‘Welcome to the Hideaway family, Trixie. Ash will be here soon, Ella you’ve already met, and this is Billy Booker, and my son, George. I hope you’ll be very happy here.’

‘I’m sure I shall be, dear.’ Trixie beamed happily at Billy and shook George’s slightly grubby hand without wincing. ‘This is wonderful. Simply wonderful. I’m so very grateful to you, dear. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. You’re so very kind.’

‘Ah, she is,’ Billy agreed, winking at Ella. ‘She’s a one-off is our Poll.’

‘No sign of Ash yet?’ Poll whispered as George was despatched to wash his hands, and Billy and Trixie sat down at the table. ‘Did you ring him?’

‘Texted,’ Ella whispered back.

‘That’s clever. I’ve never texted anyone.’

‘He hasn’t replied.’

‘Hasn’t he? Oh, well, he probably has a really good reason for being late. Do you think we should dish up the soup even though he isn’t here?’

Ella nodded. ‘Definitely, otherwise it’ll all spoil. If you do the soup, I’ll grab the rolls from the bottom oven and start pouring the wine.’

‘OK, but –’ Poll looked slightly distressed ‘– don’t you think this is all wrong?’

‘What is? The wine? We’ve got water as well for anyone who doesn’t want alcohol. Or do you mean the welcoming dinner in general? The fact that we’ve all played a part in the cooking which might lead to a case of too many cooks? Or the fact that Ash isn’t here?’

Poll shook her head. ‘None of them. I mean the food itself. If it was the middle of winter, this would be fantastic, but it’s a warm May evening. I feel like I’m in a sauna already, and we’ve concocted a really hearty meal. It should be salads and ice cream… Oh, why do I always do everything wrong?’

‘You don’t.’ Ella grinned at her. ‘OK, maybe it is a little, um, robust, but everyone’s really hungry, the door’s open, the fan’s going, there’s a nice breeze, and it all smells fantastic. They won’t mind that it’s a winter menu, they’ll love it, Poll, honestly. Once they get started they’ll be ecstatic about Ash’s soup and it’ll be all onwards and upwards from there, you’ll see.’

And, much to Ella’s relief, it was.

Within minutes, wine glasses filled, they were all oohing and aahing over the soup course.

‘. . . oh, this is wonderful… delicious… so unusual…’

‘. . . tastes like curry – mild, but spicy at the same time – like the best curry I’ve ever had…’

‘. . . ah, that it does. Young George is on his seconds already, love him…’

‘. . . yes, Ash is clearly a marvel with soups. A genius at blending flavours… such a shame he isn’t here… more bread?’

Trixie dabbed delicately at her mouth. ‘This is fantastic. Billy made it, did you say, dear? My compliments to the chef, then Mr Booker. It’s wonderful. You can taste the fresh herbs in the bread and the soup. Now, I love cooking with herbs. I could recommend some of the more unusual ones, dear.’

Ella smiled into her soup bowl. Bad-fairy herbs no doubt – hemlock and henbane and mandrake and aconite.

Oh, yummy – not.

‘. . . you and Ash must get together, then. Concoct some recipes between you.’

‘Ah, we should all have a little bash at that!’

‘What a good idea. Oh, yes, this soup is the best I’ve ever tasted.’

‘. . . more? Lovely, pass your bowl across, there’s plenty.’

Oh, yes, Ash could certainly cook, Ella thought, spooning up the sublime lentil, butternut squash and coriander soup. It was quite, quite incredible.

Great cook – lousy time-keeper.

On cue, the kitchen door flew open again.

‘Hi! Poll, I’m so sorry I’m late, but it all took much longer
than I’d expected, and then there was a bit of a transport problem and…’

Ella looked up and registered two things at the same time. One, that Ash was wearing a funny little white hat which oddly didn’t detract one iota from his gorgeousness. And two, that he was accompanied by the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen.

The rest of the kitchen spotted Ash’s headgear at the same time. George pointed at him and shrieked with happy laughter. Everyone else simply stared, then Trixie startled everyone by clapping her hands in delight.

‘Oh! I love it! He looks like one of them old films – you know, the ones with Frank Sinatra. where he’s a sailor on leave and he dances in fountains and…’

‘A sailor’s hat!’ Poll nodded. ‘Of course it is!’

Ella looked at her with deep misgiving. Really Poll was so suggestible, so very easily led. ‘Er…’ Ella tried to force her tone in neutral, which was, she considered, pretty tricky when the sight of Ash’s companion had sent her heart sinking into her stomach as rapidly as her herby croutons had disappeared into the bottom of her soup bowl. ‘Seriously, Ash, what the heck are you wearing on your head?’

‘Oh, this.’ Ash tapped the hat and looked amused. ‘Yeah,
well, I had to try it on for size and then I sort of forgot to take it off and –’

Ella frowned. What sort of weird dressing-up games did he play with this stunning girl? Oooh no – it didn’t bear thinking about.

Ash grinned. ‘And sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not a sailor’s hat. It’s part of my uniform.’

‘Uniform?’ Poll smiled, naturally the only person still seemingly unfazed by the hat. ‘Oh, how wonderful – but if it’s not a sailor’s hat, a uniform must mean you’ve got a job?’

Ash nodded. ‘At Maxi’s.’

‘Oh, congratulations,’ Poll trilled excitedly. ‘How lovely. Clever you. As a chef?’

‘Er, not as a chef, exactly.’

Ella frowned again. She really shouldn’t. She’d end up with a forehead like a ploughed field before she was thirty. ‘Congrats on getting the job, but if you’re not a chef, then what’s the hat thing for?’

‘I know! Of course! Everyone wears them at Maxi’s!’ Poll interrupted delightedly. ‘Oh, George loves Maxi’s! It’s only just opened and…’

Definitely not an odd dressing-up game then, Ella thought, her eyes now riveted on the stunning girl in the doorway. Silly mistake – any games involving any couple as beautiful as Ash and
her
would never involve silly hats, it was bound to be all sensuously fragranced oils and creams and…

‘Maxi’s,’ Poll informed the rest of the table, ‘is the latest must-go-to place for the children. They all have their birthday parties there. It’s just like Tom and Jerry.’

‘Cartoons?’ Billy queried. ‘Cats and mice killing each other? That doesn’t seem too suitable for the little ’uns, if you ask me.’

‘Nooo,’ Poll chuckled. ‘I don’t mean Tom and Jerry, do I? Silly me – of course – it’s Frankie and Benny’s, isn’t it?’

Ash laughed. ‘Hardly in their league.’

Poll shook her head. ‘Oh, dear, I was sure it was Frankie and Benny’s. All those lovely sundaes and fab flavours.’

‘Do you mean Ben and Jerry’s?’ Ella suggested, a touch tersely. ‘Luxury ice creams? Does Maxi’s do things like Ben and Jerry’s?’

Ash nodded. ‘It’s an ice-cream parlour.’

‘That’s it!’ Poll looked excited. ‘Ben and Jerry’s! Well, they make their own ice creams at Maxi’s, they don’t sell Ben and Jerry’s obviously – but it’s fab. Like one of those 1950s American soda pop places you see on the films. Clever girl, Ella! I knew we’d get there in the end!’

Ella peered at Ash. ‘But you’re a chef, not an ice-cream maker.’

Ash shrugged. ‘Yes, I’m a chef, but an unemployed one. Or at least, I was.’

Poll stopped smiling. ‘Lovely, Ash, I’m so pleased for you… Oh, but you said there was a transport problem, didn’t you? Oh, don’t say your car’s broken down just when you’ve got a job? That would be too cruel.’

Ash shook his head. ‘No, the car’s fine, but I, um, get company transport which I had to drive home, which meant my car would still be in Winterbrook, so I asked –’

‘A company car!’ Poll crooned blissfully. ‘How amazing,
Ash. They must think very highly of you to give you a company car.’

Ash, eventually tugging off the funny hat and ruffling his hair in a way that made Ella’s toes curl with lust, grinned at Poll. ‘Actually, it isn’t exactly a company car, it’s an ice-cream van.’

What
? Ella blinked. ‘No way! An ice-cream van? You mean a tinkly-jingly stop-me-and-buy-one ice-cream van?’

‘Exactly.’

Everyone clapped their hands again. Everyone except Ella who somehow felt that Ash selling ice creams from a van was wrong on so many levels.

‘Don’t tell me it’s pink and white and pale green and has a big ice-cream sundae thing on the roof?’

‘OK.’ Ash grinned. ‘I won’t. But it is and it has. I’ve parked it at the back, by the biggest barn. It’s well out of sight. And no, before you say anything, it isn’t the job of my dreams, but any job is better than none and as I’m on a short-term summer contract they might not mind about my lack of references… Oh, and, Poll, I’m so sorry, in all the excitement my manners are sadly lacking. This is Onyx.’

All eyes immediately diverted from Ash to his stunning companion. Everyone smiled and said hello. Onyx smiled warmly and said hello back. Ella really had to force herself to do both because she certainly hadn’t needed to be told it was Onyx.

Onyx the exotic dancer. Huh, so much for Olive-with-the-welder-look…

Poll beamed even more. ‘Lovely to meet you, Onyx. I’ve, um, we’ve heard so much about you from Ash.’

Ash beamed as well. Ella was getting a bit tired of the beaming.

‘I hoped you wouldn’t mind if Onyx joined us,’ Ash said to Poll. ‘I was pretty sure you wouldn’t – because I had the ice-cream van, she had to drive my car back, you see and –’

‘And I’ve already said,’ Onyx, tall, black and traffic-stoppingly beautiful in tight jeans, skimpy vest and stilt-high glittery sandals, interrupted cheerfully, ‘that I wouldn’t dream of arriving unannounced and intruding on a special occasion. I just did the driving job to make sure the car got here. I’ll be off now.’

Good, Ella thought, crumbling one of Billy’s herby rolls.

‘Goodness me,’ Poll said, standing up. ‘I won’t hear of it. There’s simply loads of food and the more the merrier. I’ll just get some more cutlery. Ash, grab that chair – yes, that one – shake the cushion in case it’s a bit hairy… lovely, now Onyx, you squeeze in here, next to Ella – oh – let me introduce you to everyone.’

Introductions were made – Ella noticed that Ash greeted fairy-Trixie with some disappointment – and then everyone started to talk at the same time.

‘Soup OK?’ Ash raised his eyebrows at Ella.

‘Fine. I sieved it when you weren’t back in time.’

‘Thanks.’ Ash pulled up the extra chair. ‘You’re a star.’

Ella tried very hard not to stare as Onyx slid her eighteen miles of incredibly slender legs under the table beside her.

‘I still feel like the world’s worst gatecrasher,’ Onyx confided happily, leaning closer to Ella in a waft of gorgeous scent as Poll bustled between them to dish up more soup and rolls. ‘I know how important this get-together is to Ash. He already adores Poll.’

‘We all do,’ Ella said, still trying to block out the image of the stunning Onyx entwined half-naked round a pole, or, even worse, round Ash.

‘Yes, he said so – Oh, wow!’ Onyx said, spooning up the soup. ‘You can tell this is one of Ash’s recipes, can’t you? He’s a genius in the kitchen.’

And no doubt in the bedroom, Ella thought, trying really, really hard not to be childish and failing miserably.

For the first time since she’d arrived at Hideaway she really regretted not having used her hair straighteners and her almost make-up-free fresh-faced look. Onyx’s glossy short black hair was tousled and designer-layered, her make-up was flawless and her eyelashes – false, surely? – were like long ebony feathers.

Ella sighed.

As they moved on from Ash’s soup and Billy’s herby rolls to the non-steak-and-kidney pie and more wine, Poll seemed to have commandeered the conversation at the other end of the table. It seemed, Ella thought, to be revolving around the joys of being a vegetarian. Trixie, Billy and Ash – carnivores to a man – were exclaiming happily over every mouthful. Ella sighed with relief. There really had been no need for Poll to worry.