The Way to a Woman's Heart (42 page)

But, Ella sighed, chucking several unsuitable garments over her shoulder, she wouldn’t and couldn’t do that.

Because she really
liked
Onyx, damn it.

Eventually grabbing several of Poll’s cast-off silk shawls from the bottom of the wardrobe, and deciding on a long layered skirt with jangly things on it, Ella, with fairly bad grace, attempted to transform herself.

‘Hey, you look really cool.’ Onyx grinned as she opened the door. ‘See, I told you you were a natural.’

‘I’ve just dressed up; I haven’t pranced yet.’

‘
Prance
? We never prance! We shimmy and undulate and wriggle and writhe – and all in a sinuous, flowing, graceful, alluring motion. Read my lips – we do not prance!’

Ella, surprising herself, giggled. ‘OK – is that the first lesson over then? Can I get changed back now?’

‘Not a cat’s chance.’ Onyx slid the CD into Ella’s stereo on top of the bookcase. ‘Right – before we begin, get the basic rhythm by imagining you’re hula-hooping, but don’t just think you have to stand there and waggle your belly. This isn’t just about your belly. This is about your whole body. You use your shoulders and your torso and your pelvis, all in turn, and then put them together. Oh, and especially your hands. Each dance is different and each dance tells a story – remember Scheherazade?’

As the evocative music flooded into the room, and Onyx put Ella through her paces, Ella breathlessly tried to instil some of the basics of cookery into Onyx.

It was the best therapy ever.

With much giggling and shrieking and joint exclamations of disgust and refusal, they passed a very quick and happy hour.

‘I think,’ Ella puffed, sitting exhausted on the floor in a heap of scarves, ‘that maybe next time, we should do things separately. Dancing and cookery lessons definitely do not go together.’

‘Next time?’ Onyx looked up from the bed where she’d thrown herself. ‘You mean you
do
want to learn to dance? You got the hang of it really quickly and you’re very good. So does that mean you’ll be coming to my classes?’

‘Yes.’ Ella nodded. ‘If I’m still here, I think I will.’

‘Yay!’ Onyx stopped and frowned. ‘And of course you’ll be here.’

‘Maybe – maybe not. Who knows.’ Ella tried to regain her breath. ‘But I’m clearly unfit – and I really enjoyed that – and I love the music, and you said ages ago that it was a great way to get in shape. Mind you, that was when I thought you were a pole dancer.’

‘
What?
’

‘Oh, yes, another one of my huge misconceptions.’ Ella managed to haul herself off the floor, and padded across to the little fridge, her skirt jingling. ‘I assumed, when Ash said you danced in clubs and you said it was exotic, that it meant poles or laps, or both. Sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I’ve got good friends who do both. All different skills. But not for me. Blimey, my mum and dad would have forty fits if they thought I was doing something even slightly sleazy. Oh, thanks.’ Onyx sat up and took the ice-cold Diet Coke. ‘And thanks for the cooking stuff. If you could write it all down for me some time I’d be dead grateful.’

‘OK, no problem.’ Ella swallowed a mouthful of Coke. ‘But, it was mostly just cooking terms and things I gave you, not actual recipes. Is that what you wanted?’

‘Mmm. To start with at least. I need to know things like the difference between broil and boil and what reduction means and if a jus is gravy or not – it’s like a foreign language to me at the moment.’

‘If you turn up again on Monday night,’ Ella said smiling,
‘you could ask Gabby to explain it all to you. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind – if she can spare the time from drooling all over Ash, of course.’

Onyx laughed. ‘Ash laps it up. He’s used to it. Anyway, he’s a terrible flirt. He knows how to handle predatory women like Gabby. But he’s dead decent – always lets people down gently. I’ve never known him deliberately hurt anyone.’

Ella was pretty sure they were about to walk on thin ice. She was also pretty sure that now would be a good time to change the subject.

Too late.

‘Don’t you ever get jealous, though?’

‘Jealous? Of Ash? Never. Why should I?’

‘Well, I know you’ve been together for ages and…’

Onyx tucked her long legs underneath her. ‘When I first met Ash, at uni, I was desperately homesick and heartbroken. I’d never been away from home before in my life, not even for one night, and OK, Reading isn’t on another planet, but my family were still miles away. Also, I’d just broken up with my one and only childhood sweetheart who gave me the “uni or me” ultimatum.’

Ella sipped her Coke, nodded, but said nothing.

‘When I discovered Ash was my next-door roommate –’ Onyx stared out of the open window ‘– I didn’t even take in that he was drop-dead gorgeous. He could have been Quasimodo for all I cared. I was still in love with Gaz. I missed my family so much it actually hurt and I thought I was going mad. I just needed someone who wouldn’t laugh
at me, who would listen when I needed to talk into the small hours of the morning, who wouldn’t mind when I cried all over him, and who’d stop me from packing it all in and going back home.’

‘And Ash did all that?’

Onyx nodded. ‘He was a star. He was homesick, too. Of course, we all were, we were only kids, but I didn’t realise that at the time. I thought it was just me. I just felt so alone. See, I’d been surrounded by this huge jolly family all my life, and been going out with Gaz since I was fifteen. I didn’t know anything else. Ash was my rock, my shoulder to cry on, my best friend. And he still is. And, whatever he does, he always will be.’

‘And, um, Gaz?’

‘Still lives round the corner from my mum and dad in Winterbrook. Married my best mate from school. Two kids. Dead happy.’

Damn it, no chance of a quick Friends Reunited there, then…

Ella sighed sadly. ‘Oh, I do love a happy ending.’

‘So do I,’ Onyx said softly, not looking at Ella, still staring out of the window as the deep purple night draped Hideaway Lane. ‘I’m all for a Happy Ever After, but I’m not sure how there can possibly be one this time, are you?’

The northern heats Weekly Winner was, as expected, the team of skinny students from Newcastle. The general consensus at Hideaway was that if they were up against them in the final then they wouldn’t stand a chance.

Still, as Trixie said, at least they knew who their enemies were now: Pink Barbie, Fish and Chips and the Geordie Slap-Up.

It sounded like a cut-price street gang.

On Monday morning, Ella, still feeling pretty rotten, and haunted by Onyx’s words of warning, and increasingly annoyed by Poll’s complete inability to concentrate on anything at all and her sudden tendency to start every sentence with ‘Billy and I think…’, suddenly wished it was all over.

OK, so Ash wanted his own restaurant. If, just if, they won at the end of this week, Ash would have his own restaurant, and Poll would have a fat cheque and they’d have even
more homeless people to live at Hideaway, which would be great. On both counts.

And, win or lose, Billy and Trixie would still have their new homes and new lives here, and Onyx would start her belly-dancing classes, and obviously move into Hideaway with Ash. Which wouldn’t be quite so great at all.

But what was there for her? What exactly did the future hold for Ella Maloney?

She had a sudden urge to talk to her mum and dad, or her sister or her gran, but with typical Sod’s Law timing they were all away on the family holiday in Majorca, and she really didn’t want to interrupt and spoil their one longed-for break of the year with her troubles.

She’d just have to sort it out for herself. Like everything else in her life from now on.

‘Ella! The film crew are here!’ Poll shouted excitedly up the stairs, as the still and misty morning, already quivering with heat, showed no signs of cooling down. ‘George has just spotted the trucks turning into Cattle Drovers Passage! Goodness me, I’m even more nervous than I was last time. I wonder if it will be the same people?’

‘I expect so.’ Ella walked slowly downstairs, feeling worn out already. How on earth was she going to cope with a full-on twelve hours of hustle and bustle and tension? Not to mention being made-up and having her hair done? Not to mention cooking in front of millions? With Ash.

George, who had Doll Blessing’s brood, which included his best friend/worst enemy, to stay for the day in return for him being whisked away before the arrival of Gabby and
Tom for a sleepover at Doll’s in Hazy Hassocks, whooped past her in the hall, followed by a vociferous blur of little boys and girls in dungarees.

‘Lovely day for it,’ Billy said cheerfully, bustling out of the kitchen. ‘Sleep well?’

‘Not really.’

‘I was out like a light.’ Billy continued to smile from ear to ear. ‘Once we’d finished all that kitchen cleaning and preparation last night, I was completely bushed. I was asleep the minute my head hit the pillow.’

Lucky, lucky you, Ella thought.

The film crew, followed by George and his gang, poured through the house in a tidal wave of greetings and equipment, exactly as before. The hair and make-up girls said a cheery ‘hiya’ and set up their boxes and brushes and mirrors, exactly as before. Even the chuck wagon arrived and parked in the same place.

Ella, drifting out in the now burned brown garden and plonking herself down on the canopied swing seat, felt as though she was living in
Groundhog Day
.

‘You look a bit surly, if you don’t mind me saying so, dear,’ Trixie said, as, carrying a bunch of wild flowers, she trotted into the garden from her job of corralling the dogs, cats and hens, once again, in their temporary out-of-Gabby’s-way home in the lower field. ‘Cheer up. It’s glorious weather for Ruby Larkspur Day… and look what I’ve got.’

Ella stared at the armful of tall blue flowers.

‘Larkspur!’ Trixie beamed. ‘Loads of them in that far field. Like a blue carpet it is down there, north facing, you see. I’m
going to see if the film crew can use them in the – what do they call it? – oh, yes, the set dressing. It would be perfect.’

Ella frowned. She didn’t care about the frowning any more. Wrinkles were the least of her problems. ‘They’re certainly very pretty, but you’re not going to mention anything about it though, are you? The larkspur, I mean. About it being magical, or about today being a special fairy day? Or any of that stuff?’

‘No,’ Trixie sighed. ‘I’m sure my fairy friends will have other things to occupy them today of all days. But if they’re needed to avert a disaster for my earthling friends again, then I’m sure I can call on them.’

Ella groaned.

‘Feeling really poorly, dear? Not surprising, this heat’s enough to finish anyone off.’

‘Yes, I suppose so. Oh, I’m sorry.’ Ella smiled at Trixie. ‘I just feel completely drained and I’m being a miserable so-and-so. I’ll get over it.’

‘You’ll need to, dear, if you don’t mind me saying so. After all, this is a very important day for…’

‘If you say the fairies, Trixie, I’ll probably scream.’

‘Wasn’t going to,’ Trixie said huffily. ‘I was going to say for Poll and Ash and everyone here. You’ve all done amazingly well getting this far. But you all need to be singing from the same playing field to pull it off today. One bad apple can curdle eggs and all that…’

Frowning at the mangled metaphors, Ella shook her head. ‘Sorry again. Yes, of course, you’re right. And I promise I won’t let them down tonight. I just think, last time we were
all so excited because it was all new, and now, this time, I know how
long
everything takes. I
know
about all the fuss. I’m just so tired… I can’t imagine even being awake tonight when we actually go on the air.’

‘The adrenaline will kick in and get you through it.’ Trixie plonked herself and the larkspur down beside Ella on the swing seat. Ella found herself rocking wildly. ‘But I can give you a little herbal tincture to help, if you like? It worked wonders for Poll last time.’

‘No, thanks.’ Ella said quickly. ‘It’s very kind of you, but I’ll just grab some black coffee and give myself a severe talking-to.’

Trixie chuckled. ‘But will you be listening?’

‘Yes, no – oh, I don’t know. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.’