Nothing but Trouble

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

TODD’S JAW DROPPED when we told him what happened with Mike.

“I’ll make up the bed in the spare room. You can’t go home with that madman out there.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I can’t just move out forever.”

“He’s right,” Grant put in. “Mike was pissed when he left. Stay here tonight, and we’ll file a police report in the morning. They might be able to give him a warning or something. That last message sounded like a threat to me.”

The thought of being alone at Edith’s tonight did scare me a little, I had to admit. And then there was Todd’s cooking.

“Maybe I could stay for one night. I’ll go home tomorrow.”

Dinner was herb-crusted sea bass with baby vegetables and a zingy sauce. Maybe I should piss Mike off a bit more often if this was the result.

“What do you do for a living?” I asked Todd. “If you’re not a chef, you should be one.”

He laughed. “Actually, I’m the executive chef at a contract catering company in London. Not quite as glamorous as Gordon Ramsay’s restaurants, but the hours are more civilised. Cooking was all I ever wanted to do. Some people hate to bring their work home with them, but I love experimenting.”

Well, Grant had certainly lucked out, hadn’t he? Women’s magazines had got it all wrong. The days of aspiring to date footballers and male models were over—we should be going for men who knew their way around the kitchen.

After chocolate mousse decorated with sugar flowers, of which I’m ashamed to say I ate two portions, Grant found me a T-shirt to sleep in, and I tried to get some rest. It didn’t come easy. Mike was yet another burden on my already troubled mind.

I’d left my phone in the lounge overnight, and when I retrieved it before breakfast, he’d been busy again. I didn’t want to look, but I had to. I had to know.

Mike: One more chance, Ella. I’ll be round tomorrow at eight. We can eat in.

“Eight in the evening?” Grant asked when I told him, trying to lighten the mood by reminding me of my faux pas in our first conversation.

“Oh, very funny.” I bit my lip. “I hope so. What if he’s decided to invite himself for breakfast?”

“That would be crazy.”

I stared at him.

“I like my toast with marmalade,” he said.

By the time Grant turned up the next morning, I’d been shopping and got him two kinds of bread, three kinds of marmalade, and a bottle of freshly-squeezed orange juice.

“You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” I said as I let him in.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I left a damsel in distress?”

He made it sound like nothing, but it was everything.

I felt even guiltier when eight o’clock came and went with no sign of Mike.

“I’ve got to go out and sort out a new car today, but I’ll be back this evening.”

“I could cook,” I blurted out. “Not as well as Todd, obviously, but it’s the least I can do.”

“Will there be enough for Todd? He gets grumpy if I abandon him to watch Downton Abbey on his own.”

“Of course.”

“In that case, thank you. Todd insists on cooking every evening, mainly because I burn everything, but he needs the occasional day off.”

“That’s settled then.” At least I could repay a small fraction of his kindness.

The first thing I did after he went was call the police. I begged them to have a word with Mike, but the officer said as he hadn’t actually tried to murder me, it wasn’t a priority. Not in so many words, obviously, but that was the sentiment. This came from the same force that had sent out a car and two constables when Jaz accidentally parked her car two inches too close to her asshole neighbour’s driveway. It was good to see my tax money was hard at work.

I spent the rest of the day experimenting, and by the time the doorbell rang I had a passable imitation of a lamb tagine warming in the oven. Ducking low around the door jamb, I peeked down the hallway and saw two shadows lurking behind the security glass. Thank goodness—it wasn’t Mike deciding to arrive early.

“Something smells delicious,” said Todd, following his nose towards the kitchen. “We brought a bottle of red.”

Was it possible for a straight woman to fall in love with a pair of gay guys? Because I was getting perilously close.

He’d only just put the wine down on the island when the doorbell rang again. We all looked at each other.

“How do you want to play it this time?” Grant whispered.

“I don’t know. Maybe...hide?”

I repeated my earlier trick and saw Mike’s shadow hovering on the doorstep. The crunch of gravel followed as he moved off towards the dining room. A pause. Then more crunching.

“s**t, he’s coming round the back!”

We dropped to our knees and crawled around the kitchen island as he stopped outside one window, then the next.

“Ella, I know you’re in there,” he called. “A good girl like you wouldn’t go out more than one night a week.”

Backwards and forwards he went. I imagined his face pressed against the window, his beady eyes violating my personal space.

“Dinner’s going to be ruined,” Todd groaned. “And these jeans are Versace. They weren’t designed for contact with the floor.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, ignore him,” Grant said. “He likes to be a diva.”

Over twenty minutes passed before we heard the ragged engine of Mike’s old banger rattle to life. There was a collective sigh of relief. Mine because Mike had gone, Grant’s because the floor was cold and Todd’s because he could finally start cooking the couscous.

“I can’t go on like this,” I said, as I picked at my dinner. Todd forked his in enthusiastically and told me it was delicious, but to me it tasted of old socks. “Why does he keep doing it? Is it a challenge to him? A game?”

“He’ll probably get bored soon,” said Grant. “We can wait it out.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“I’ve got a better idea,” piped up Todd. “I spoke to my friend today, and the stables his sister runs offers residential courses. You could have a nice little holiday and knock something off your list at the same time.”

“I don’t know. What if I got there and hated it?” If I was as good at riding horses as I was at driving, after one lesson I’d never want to set foot near one again.

Grant must have read my mind. “A horse would see the ditch coming and steer round it, so you’re all right there. Plus, you’ve got to complete these challenges, sooner or later. You might as well push yourself and get this one done sooner.”

I couldn’t deny that the thought of being far from Mike appealed. “Where is the place?”

“In the Cotswolds somewhere.”

“That’s about an hour from here, right?”

“Yep. And it’s got sweet little cottages and good pubs, or so I’m told,” Todd said, as if that would offset the horrors of the four-legged fiends.

“I suppose I might as well take the details.”

Todd wrote down the website address and his friend’s sister Jenny’s phone number. Linden Hollow, the place was called. It did seem kind of cute. Mind you, so did gremlins and look at what happened to them when you let your guard down.

I’d cheated with dessert and bought a trifle, but the guys didn’t seem to mind. Todd had talked Grant into driving, so we split the bottle of wine, and by midnight I couldn’t stop giggling as his impromptu make-up lesson came to a sticky end when he got the lipstick confused with the eyeshadow.

“Time for bed,” Grant said.

“Aww, spoilsport.”

The stairs gave me a problem, so Grant carried me up them and tucked me in, where I passed out rather than fell asleep while he and Todd let themselves out.

It was the best night’s rest I’d had in ages.

Apart from a pounding headache, I felt better the next morning. Mike had been blessedly quiet, and once I’d swallowed a paracetamol, I was ready to face the day.

That feeling lasted until I got downstairs.

In keeping with the style of the house, Edith’s front door was one of those old-fashioned ones where the mottled glass panels went all the way down to the floor. And this morning, the outline of a body sat slumped against it. Oh hell, was that Mike? Had he taken his stalking to the next level?

No.

When I crouched and squinted, I made out a mop of blonde hair and Mike’s was brown.

I marched up and yanked the door open, not feeling at all sorry when Terry tumbled backwards and landed on the prickly doormat with a bump. A bunch of sorry-looking flowers and a box of Turkish delight fell from his arms. Clearly he’d forgotten I hated the stuff.

He scrambled to his feet and held out his offerings. I made no effort to take them, and when he realised things weren’t going to be as easy as he thought, he sheepishly lowered his hands to his sides.

“What do you want, Terry? It’s seven thirty in the morning.”

“I need to talk to you before you go to work.”

“You haven’t spoken to me for three months.”

“I know, and with every passing day, the pain in my chest becomes more intense.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I made a mistake. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible, and I want you back.”

I could tell my peal of laughter wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Who the hell did he think he was? He’d cheated on me, slunk off with barely a word, and now he thought I’d fall back into his arms? Well, he had two chances: None and even less than that.

“I know it can’t have been easy, living without me for all this time, but I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you.”

Yup, definitely delusional.

“You can start by getting out of my doorway.” I prodded him with my foot, and he reluctantly shuffled backwards.

Once again, I wished Edith was still with me. The last time he’d darkened the doorstep, she’d threatened to whack him in the unmentionables with a frying pan, and he’d made tracks pretty sharpish after that. I sighed. Why couldn’t I have her courage?

“I’m not leaving, Ella. I’m going to stay until you see how much I love you.”

Love? Yeah right.

I pushed the door with all my might until it clicked shut then got on the phone to Demi. We kept each other up to date with Terry-related gossip as well as going on our lunch dates.

“You’ll never guess who’s sitting on my doorstep.”

“Terry?”

That was slightly disappointing. “How did you know?”

“I heard at the club last night that he’d split up with his latest girlfriend. You know, the one who works in the clothes shop next to Tesco? They were living together, but she found he’d borrowed her credit card to watch porn on the internet and booted him out. I thought I’d take round a box of donuts later so she could celebrate properly.”

“He’s homeless?”

“I guess so. I was going to call and warn you after breakfast.”

“Sorry, I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll go back to bed after I’ve watched Jeremy Kyle. That program always makes me feel so much better about my own life. I mean, I may be single and strip for a living, but at least my significant other isn’t shagging my sister’s cat.”

“I suppose there is that. Do you fancy getting lunch? If Terry’s hanging around, I’d rather be out of the house.”

“I’d love to. How about the café next to the church?”

By the time I left the house at twelve, the i***t was nowhere in sight. Obviously his sense of commitment hadn’t improved any since we split. Over a tasty slice of quiche, I caught Demi up on the disasters in my life, including Edith’s challenges and mad Mike.

“We sure can pick ‘em, can’t we?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll go speed-dating with you if you like. I’ve tried everything else.”

“Really? I’m nervous about that one. I’m usually tongue-tied for at least an hour when I meet a man, so I probably won’t get more than a sentence out.”

She giggled. “We can practise what to say beforehand. Once you get a few glasses of wine in you, you’ll be fine.” Her face turned serious. “At least when you talk, guys listen to you. They never even look at my face.”

Demi had been blessed, or cursed as she thought of it, with the kind of chest that men found distracting. When you put that together with her slim figure and pretty face, half of all men were intimidated by her. Most of the rest couldn’t see past her exterior, and the few that did got hung up on her job. After a while, I’d realised how lonely she was.

“Maybe we could go to a bar where the lighting isn’t very good?”

She gave me a little smile. “You’re on. So what’s next on your list, apart from the speed-dating?”

“Not driving, obviously. I’ve put that one to the very bottom. I’m thinking of trying the horse riding. Todd told me about a residential centre that runs intensive courses.”

I’d taken a look at the website for Linden Hollow that morning. The accommodation certainly looked pleasant, and it boasted a selection of horses for all levels of ability and a high staff-to-student ratio. I fished out my phone to show Demi, only to find another text from Mike flashing at me.

“What now?” I groaned.

Mike: It was very rude of you not to answer the door last night. I can only imagine you were upstairs behaving like a slut with your visitor. Honestly, Ella, it’s not good enough. Your education is going to take longer than I thought.

“What’s up? You’ve lost all your colour.”

I slid the phone over to her.

“Wow. The guy’s whacked.”

“Tell me about it. The police won’t help until it gets worse. What do they want? For me to end up as another statistic?”

“You know what I’d do? Go to that horse riding place. A couple of weeks away’ll do you good, plus you’ll complete something on your list.”

“That idea’s getting more and more appealing.”

When I got home and found Terry lying in the porch again, complete with a sleeping bag and a camping stove, my mind stopped wavering between mad Mike and the evil equines. Decision made.

Linden Hollow, here I come.