‘Oh, George, you really didn’t have to. I haven’t anything for you.’
‘That’s all right.’ He holds out the box. ‘Please, open it.’
Sighing, she takes the box. She tears off the paper and lifts off the cardboard cover. ‘Oh, my word.’
George removes the ring with its tiny diamond from the box. Kneeling on one knee, he holds it up to Ellie. ‘Will you marry me, Ellie? I’ve been an idiot. I’ll never forgive myself for taking you for granted. I’ve got to thank Thomas, because it took that … that situation to knock some sense into me. I love you, Ellie.’ He clears his throat again. ‘Will you be my wife?’
Ellie’s stares at George’s earnest face, at the neatly combed black hair with its slick of hair oil, at the solemn brown eyes behind his tortoiseshell glasses. ‘George, I—’
‘Looks like I got here in the nick of time.’ Thomas stands under the archway, tall as ever, but his long, handsome face is leaner and shadowed with the need for a shave.
‘Thomas!’ Ellie rushes past the tree and throws herself into his embrace.
‘I’m sorry, George,’ Thomas says over Ellie’s shoulder. ‘I’m cutting in.’ He looks back at Ellie. ‘Have you got the marriage licence, maid? I’ve only wangled a few days’ leave.’
‘I have! I’ve had it a year. I’ve been waiting for you, Thomas.’
George rises to his feet. ‘You made me think I had a chance, Ellie. All this time, I thought it was over between you two.’
‘I’m awfully sorry, George. I didn’t mean— We’re just friends, George. I love Thomas. We’re getting married. We’ve been planning to for over a year.’
George sets the ring into the box and replaces the lid. ‘Just friends? You were never just a friend to me, Ellie. I thought you knew that.’
Walking past the lovers, he enters the hall and picks his coat off the coat hook. He steps outside onto the stone stoop. A fog sits like a veil over the garden, obscuring all but the tallest Gothic spires of the boys’ school next door. Closing the heavy door quietly behind him, he heads down the steps into the ghostly night.
***
On the top step of the staircase landing, Dottie clings to the banisters as she spies on Ellie and Thomas through the open door of the living room. Berkeley Square steps delicately into her lap. She grabs it by the fur on its neck and pushes it away.
You promised me, Ellie. You promised me you wouldn’t leave me and Poppy. You cheated on George and you’re a liar too. You’re mean and selfish. I don’t care if you are my sister. I hate you, Ellie. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
Chapter 41
Tippy’s Tickle – 16 September 2001
‘Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Ellieeeee! Happy birthday to you!’
Florie parades through the kitchen, the four dachshunds scampering through her legs, carrying Sophie’s and Becca’s towering chocolate cake aflame with tiny candles. She sets the cake on the table.
‘There you goes, Ellie. Created by the fair hands of your niece and your granddaughter. I couldn’t get seventy-nine candles on the cake. You’ll just have to pretend.’ She frowns down at the barking dachshunds. ‘Oh, me nerves, girls. You’ll be the death of me yet. Face down in a chocolate cake on the kitchen floor.’
Jumping up from her chair, Becca signs excitedly at Ellie.
‘Of course, Becca,’ Ellie says, signing back. ‘Help me blow out the candles. Hurry! They’re melting into the cake, and it’s such a lovely cake. You and Sophie did a wonderful job.’
The girl and her grandmother lean over the cake and blow into the flames, extinguishing all but two. Becca signs at her father.
Sam looks over at Sophie. ‘She wants you to blow those out, Princess Grace.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ Sucking in an exaggerated breath, she blows out the two sputtering candles.
Ellie picks up a knife and holds it, poised, over the creamy chocolate icing. ‘Help me cut the cake, Becca. None for Rupert or the doxxies. Chocolate’s not good for dogs.’
‘None for me, Florie,’ Sophie says, patting her stomach. ‘I could barely zip up my skirt this morning.’
At the sound of his name, Rupert raises his great black head up from where he’s been snoozing by the door. Turning his head towards the door, he emits a husky woof. The door swings open and Emmett enters, carrying a cloth bag and a guitar.
‘There you are, b’y!’ Florie says as she licks icing off her bottom lip. ‘We thought you’d fallen off the wharf. Come in and have some birthday cake. Good, you’ve brought your guitar. We’re all set for a right good kitchen party now.’
Emmett shuts the door and pulls up a chair next to Sam. He thrusts the cloth bag across the table at Ellie. ‘Happy Birthday, Mam.’
‘Oh, thank you, Emmy!’ Ellie holds up the bag and shakes it beside her ear. ‘What is it?’
Emmett frowns. ‘You has to open it.’
‘Of course I do. Silly me.’ Opening the bag, she pulls out something wrapped in a red bandana. Untying the bandana, she holds up a spherical vase the size of a basketball, constructed of an intricate design of dark and light wood polished to a soft gleam. ‘Oh, Emmy, it’s lovely!’
‘I used bits of wood from Silas Feltham’s old boat and some lobster traps.’ Emmett shrugs. Was just rotting down by the tickle. Figured no one would miss it. Didn’t cost me anything to do.’
Ellie hands the vase to Sophie who runs her hand over the smooth surface. ‘It must have taken you hours to do this, Emmett. It’s stunning.’
‘I gots time.’
‘Have you ever thought of making things like this to sell?’ Sophie asks. ‘You could make beautiful objects like this for Sam’s business. People in places like London and New York would spend a lot of money on this kind of quality.’
Emmett grunts. ‘Why would I wants to do that? I has my own business already. I don’t needs to work for Sam.’
‘Well, you could make more money.’
‘Where am I gonna spend money here? I gots everything I need.’
Sam takes the vase from Sophie. ‘There’s more to life than working all hours of the day just to have a bigger house or a fancy car.’
‘Everyone needs to earn a living.’
‘We manage just fine.’
‘But there must be things you want. Things you’d like to be able to afford.’
‘Sure.’ Sam turns the vase around in his hands. ‘I’d like a boat like the one we went out in today. I’d like a new pickup truck.’ He shrugs. ‘But I can live without them. They’re not what’s important. I’ve got plenty of work putting in kitchens and bathrooms in Wesleyville and Musgrave Harbour when Emmett doesn’t need help on the boats. And the furniture sells at a fair price when someone buys it. We’re good.’
He sets the vase on the table and reaches over to hug Becca against his side. She holds out a fork with a large piece of her cake to her father and he takes a bite. He swallows the cake and smiles at Sophie, chocolate crumbs around his mouth. ‘Now, birthday cake is important. Especially if it’s chocolate.’ He picks up a slice of cake and holds it out to Sophie. ‘Go on, Princess Grace. Live a little. Have some of your cake. He takes a bite, icing spreading onto his nose. ‘It’s delicious.’