Worth Waiting For: A heart-warming and feel-good romantic comedy Page 6

  At that moment as she gazed at him, Ellie couldn’t decide whether he was the most kissable man in Millrise or the most stupid. The other women in her company had clearly plumped for the former as they released a collective sigh. What Ellie wanted to do, more than ever, was to tell Ben exactly what she thought of Gemma Fox and how he would be much better off without her. But it was none of her business. Her job was to report events, not interfere in them. She forced a bright smile.

  ‘If you’re determined to stick it out then you can count on me to check in every now and again – report in the Echo on your progress. Would that help?’

  ‘That would be amazing,’ Ben said.

  ‘I still think it needs bigger coverage,’ Janet said.

  ‘I’m working on that too,’ Ellie replied.

  Ben’s eyes widened. ‘You are?’

  ‘Is that OK?’

  He scratched his chin slowly. ‘I suppose so. I’m not great at making an exhibition of myself but I suppose this is worth it.’

  Ellie raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re not good at making an exhibition of yourself?’ She swept her hand over his little campsite and he grinned.

  ‘This is different. I’m OK with this, and when I play with my band that’s OK too because I just stand at the back with my guitar and it’s like doing a job. I don’t have to talk sitting here and I don’t have to talk on stage. It’s the talking that’s a problem – I always seem to say the wrong thing.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ Ellie said. ‘From what I’ve seen you seem very articulate.’

  ‘That’s because you’re not pointing a TV camera or radio microphone at me. It’s kinda why we scaled down the band, to be honest.’

  ‘Stage fright?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ he laughed. ‘I just don’t think straight in those situations. I’m afraid I’ll get myself into trouble.’

  ‘I know that feeling,’ Ellie smiled. ‘I’m sure you’d be fine. If it helped, we could run over some scenarios that might crop up during an interview and you could have some answers prepared. I expect that Radio Millrise will be round here any day now so you might as well be ready.’

  ‘What, like a practise run?’

  Ellie nodded. ‘I suppose so, yeah. Just like a practise run.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Oooh!’ Lena squeaked. ‘I’ll go and get fresh coffee if you’re staying a while.’ She looked at the others. ‘We can pretend to be the audience!’

  Ellie threw Ben a loaded glance. ‘Maybe we should have tea this time… if that’s OK? I don’t know about you, Ben, but too much caffeine for me and I’ll be like a budgie on a pylon.’

  ‘Oh yeah, me too,’ Ben said with exaggerated earnestness. ‘Tea would be a much better idea.’

  Lena clapped her hands together and gathered her cups. ‘Great! I’ll be back shortly.’

  As she walked away, Sonia eyed Ellie and Ben with a knowing look. ‘Her tea’s worse than her coffee. That woman could ruin the taste of water just by looking at it.’

  Ellie longed for a lazy supper and a hot bath. The day had been a very trying one, with problems over deadlines, and copy with last minute mistakes spotted, not to mention Vernon turning up with a burning ear after being hit by a coke can thrown from a first floor window by a disgruntled footballer’s wife. But home was still a distant dream. She had promised her dad she would visit and it was a promise she had to keep.

  She arrived at her dad’s building and buzzed for entry. As always, when she got to the flat she found the door already open for her.

  ‘Hey, Dad!’ she called. Glancing around the room she noted socks and boxer shorts hanging over the radiator, days of newspapers piled on the coffee table alongside takeaway cartons and sweet wrappers, a banjo (just one of the musical instruments he owned but couldn’t actually play) and, bizarrely, a box of assorted screws and a screwdriver. The last object filled her with particular trepidation. As for the rest of the mess, she had seen better kept digs during her student days.

  Just as she was about to collect some dirty mugs, her dad shuffled through from the kitchen, still in his dressing gown despite the fact that it was teatime

  ‘You’ve lost weight again. I only saw you a week ago and I can tell.’ Ellie looked him up and down with a critical eye. ‘And you were skinny enough to start with. I thought you were getting your hair cut too.’

  ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘Because you make the guy who sells the Big Issue outside M&S look like Gok Wan, that’s the point.’

  ‘Have you talked to your Mum yet?’ he asked, ignoring her scolding.

  ‘It’s not a good time, Dad. You know that.’

  ‘It’s never a good time,’ he mumbled like a petulant toddler.

  Ellie sighed. ‘You and Mum are as bad as each other.’

  ‘I’m the one willing to give things a try… it’s your mum being stubborn.’ He looked at his hands. ‘And I didn’t even do anything wrong…’

  Ellie threw her satchel down on the sofa and sidled past him with a handful of dirty cups. He followed her into the kitchen.

  ‘That’s not how Mum sees things,’ Ellie said, letting the mugs fall into the washing up bowl with a clatter and turning on the hot tap.

  ‘Do you think she’s right?’

  Ellie turned to face him. ‘It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s Mum you need to talk round, not me.’

  ‘But do you think I was wrong?’

  ‘I don’t want to discuss it.’ Ellie squeezed the washing-up-liquid bottle. The last dregs came out with a wheeze and a cloud of tiny bubbles. Her dad went over and laid a hand on her arm.

  ‘Don’t wash up, Ell. It makes me feel guilty when you clean up after me.’

  ‘Then clean up after yourself and I won’t have to!’

  He dropped his hand and stepped away. ‘Does she know you’re here?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘No,’ Ellie said, ‘and you’d better not tell her either.’

  ‘She can’t begrudge you seeing your own father!’ A defensive note crept into his voice.

  ‘No, but she isn’t strong enough right now to be rational about it. I don’t want to stress her out any more than she already is.’

  He dropped into a chair at the table. ‘How is your aunt?’

  ‘Not good. The cancer is worse and she’s not going to make it.’

  Her dad stared into space as he digested this news. ‘That’s too bad,’ he said finally. ‘I always liked Hazel; she’s a good girl.’

  Ellie sniffed hard and nodded. ‘I know.’ She took a deep breath.

  ‘I miss you both,’ Ellie’s dad said into the pause.

  Ellie looked at him sadly. ‘I know you do. I’ll talk to her, I promise; I just need to find the right moment.’ Her gaze travelled the room and settled on a wonky looking piece of wood that seemed to be attached to the wall in a way that defied all laws of physics. Her attention turned to her dad and she narrowed her eyes. ‘What have I told you about attempting to build things?’

  ‘I needed something to take my mind off your mother.’

  Ellie raised her eyebrows so far there was a danger she would lose them in her hair. ‘How about a spot of cleaning?’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘A shower and shave wouldn’t go amiss either.’ She had lost count of the times she had chastised him about the state of his flat and she was beginning to feel like a stuck record. Sometimes she felt like the parent with two children of her own the way her mum and dad carried on. But if she didn’t keep him on the straight and narrow, she was afraid that her dad would sink completely.

  He pouted and scuffed his slippered feet on the floor like a sullen child. Ellie dropped a couple of teabags in two clean mugs. Her father had always been a diligent man, trying his best to keep their family home in good repair on the modest budget they had, but somehow, he seemed to get everything wrong. Like the time he had boxed his glasses in with the hot water pipes in the bathroom and had to undo it all again once he realised. Or the
treehouse he had built for Ellie, whose first visit had seen the ladder falling away as soon as she had scaled it. She’d been stuck up there for hours before either of her parents had realised. But he had always meant well, even when it ended in disaster.

  ‘I’m only saying it because I care.’ Ellie’s tone was gentler now. ‘I’m not suggesting you’re not capable…’ she continued, deciding that a spot of diplomacy might be the way forward, ‘just that your mind might not be completely on the task in hand. It only takes a minute for your concentration to slip enough to do some real damage.’ Ellie had once seen a programme on TV where a local council had decided to demolish a block of old flats by blowing them up. It had been a gracefully destructive image as the building came down in an almost perfectly symmetrical crash. The image came back to her now, only the perpetrator of the event was her dad, the crash not quite so graceful, and him running from his own block of flats chased by an angry mob of fellow residents with flaming torches and pitchforks and covered in concrete dust.

  Frank Newton took a seat at the table and smiled wanly as his daughter set a mug of tea down in front of him. He looked at the shelf.

  ‘I suppose it does look like it belongs in a museum of optical illusions,’ he said.

  Ellie laughed as she sat down with her own drink. ‘I wouldn’t go that far… although it might be worth two hundred quid on You’ve Been Framed if we can catch the moment on film when it falls on your head.’

  ‘Watch it,’ Frank said, his smile spreading a little. ‘Otherwise, I might film the moment I throw it at yours.’

  Five

  Patrick clicked his camera as Ellie walked into the office yawning and rubbing a hand through her hair.

  ‘You’d better not be photographing me,’ Ellie warned him. She went over to her chair, where he had made himself comfortable, and slapped his feet from her desk.

  ‘How could I miss a photo op like that?’ Patrick grinned. ‘Anyway, I need some compromising photos as bargaining tools when you’re too famous to work at the Echo any longer.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Ellie dropped her satchel on the floor and perched on the edge of her desk next to him.

  ‘Ange says the phone lines have been going mental. Everyone wants to know about your guy on Constance Street.’

  ‘Who’s everyone?’

  ‘Members of the public, other newspapers, women’s mags. You name it.’

  Ellie shrugged slightly with a bemused expression. ‘I hadn’t realised that one or two calls would cause such a stir. It’ll all help Ben, though, so I suppose that’s good. So where is Ange?’ she added.

  ‘Gone to make me a coffee.’

  Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t encourage her, Patrick.’

  ‘I can’t help my animal magnetism,’ Patrick said innocently.

  Ellie folded her arms. ‘So what are you doing here? Haven’t you got school kids in roman togas to photograph or something?’

  ‘Come to invite you to dinner. In fact, I’ve come to order you to dinner.’

  ‘Patrick… I –’

  He held up a hand to silence her. ‘No arguing. Fiona has given me strict instructions.’

  ‘OK, when?’

  ‘Doing anything tonight?’

  ‘I did have a hot date with a microwave curry but I suppose I can cancel.’

  ‘Good girl. I’ll call Fi and tell her. She’s been saying all week how you’ve not been round for ages. The kids have been asking about you too.’

  ‘I know…’ Ellie sighed. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t seen them much lately, it’s just that there’s so much going on…’

  ‘It’s OK, you don’t have to explain anything to me. We’re fond of you, that’s all, and we worry. You make Fiona go all weird and maternal.’

  Ellie grinned. It was strange how quickly she and Patrick had become friends since she had started to work at the Echo only a year before, even stranger how his wife and children had taken to her too. But she wasn’t complaining – since Jethro and Kasumi had left for London and most of her other friends had either got married or moved away, it was good to have a new confidante. ‘It must be because I look about twelve,’ she quipped.

  ‘You laugh now but you’ll be laughing harder when you’re forty and everyone thinks you’re twenty-five.’

  ‘That’s what everyone used to tell me when I couldn’t get served in nightclubs.’

  Patrick grinned at her. It was a grin she knew well.

  ‘OK,’ Ellie said, trying, but failing, to look stern. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Not me,’ Patrick replied. ‘But I kinda think Fi might ask you to help out at the school fete next month.’

  Ellie groaned. ‘Doing what?’

  ‘A bake sale.’

  ‘She wants me to make cakes? My cakes are so dense they practically have their own gravity. God help anyone who buys them!’

  ‘Don’t worry, I already told her you don’t do all that domestic stuff. She just needs help selling them.’

  ‘Patrick…’ Ellie said in a torn sort of whine, ‘I have so much to do right now.’

  ‘I know.’ He fluttered his eyelashes at her. ‘But it’ll be fun and you’ll make Fi so happy.’

  She bit her lip for a moment, and then let out a sigh. ‘Argh! I never could say no to you and Fiona. Just an hour, though, and if I get any lip from snotty nosed kids I’m allowed to shove a cake in their face.’

  Patrick threw back his head and laughed. ‘Deal.’

  Just then, Ange kicked the door open, balancing two mugs and a tin of biscuits on a tray. ‘I nicked these from the girls on reception,’ she announced with a cheeky grin. ‘We’d better be quick and eat them before they notice they’re missing.’

  Ellie laughed. ‘You know there will be all-out war if you keep stealing their goodies? Rosie has already threatened to confiscate your sweet tin in retaliation.’

  ‘Pah, she’s got to find it first,’ Ange said as she set the tray down. ‘Sorry, Ellie, I didn’t make you one as I wasn’t sure what time you’d be in.’

  Ellie waved away the apology. ‘I just popped in to check there was nothing urgent here and then I was going to head over to Constance Street anyway.’

  ‘Again?’ Patrick raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Ben’s still there as far as I know,’ Ellie said, feeling the blush in her cheeks without knowing why. ‘I thought I might just write a small update.’

  ‘The phones and emails have been going mental since that big piece,’ Ange said. ‘The reception girls have even had people bringing in gifts for him.’

  ‘Really? Wow, this story seems to be catching people’s imaginations,’ Ellie mused.

  ‘Jammy beggar could have his pick of girls by the sounds of it,’ Patrick grinned. ‘If it was me I’d tell Gemma to sling her hook and see what else was on offer.’

  ‘Lucky it isn’t you then, because that’s hardly romantic,’ Ellie replied.

  ‘Romance is overrated.’

  ‘Good for a story, though,’ Ange put in as she looked between them from over the top of her mug.

  ‘It is that,’ Ellie agreed. ‘What else has come in this morning?’

  ‘The usual thrilling assortment,’ Ange said as she picked up a writing pad. ‘Flasher seen down in Bircheswood Park, someone stealing crates of sausages from that meat wholesaler on Millrise industrial estate, a baby born by the side of the road because they didn’t get to hospital on time, a karate school celebrating its tenth anniversary… want me to go on, or are you happy to take your pick from that little lot?’

  Ellie pulled her face into a comical look of pain. ‘It all sounds so exciting I hardly know where to begin.’ She turned to Patrick. ‘Fancy coming with me on any of them?’

  ‘The baby might be a good one. Everyone loves babies. You can keep the flasher though….’ He grinned. ‘Unless he and the sausage thefts are connected, in which case that would have to be worth a look.’

  ‘Baby it is then,’ Ellie laughed. ‘While you drink yo
ur coffee I’m going to pop over to Constance Street and we’ll go baby visiting when I get back.’

  ‘Want to take Ben’s gifts for him?’ Ange asked with a mischievous wink. From under her desk she produced a cardboard box. Ellie pushed herself from her perch on the desk and peered inside it.

  ‘Seriously?’ she laughed as she held up a teddy hugging a loveheart. ‘Just what every polar explorer or man camping on suburban street corner puts on their list of things essential for survival.’

  ‘They’re very good grilled over an open fire with some wild mushrooms, I’m told,’ Patrick laughed.

  Putting the teddy to one side, Ellie dug further into the box, producing an assortment of items from boxes of chocolates to bottles of wine to more practical things like torches and tarpaulins. ‘They’ve really thought of everything, haven’t they? I’ll take this lot with me – Ben might be able to use some of it… even the teddy.’

  The low sun slanting into the car was starting to give Ellie a headache, but once she had turned the corner into Constance Street, it was soon forgotten. The scene that confronted her made her stomach tighten. A police car was parked next to Ben’s spot, two officers having an animated conversation with Annette, Lena, Sonia and Janet. Ben was standing to one side looking concerned but seemingly unable to get a word in.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Ellie asked Ben breathlessly after she had parked and raced over.

  ‘Someone has complained that I’m a nuisance. I’m breaking some sort of ancient vagrancy law, apparently,’ he replied miserably.

  ‘But you’re not asking for money or anything.’

  Ben shrugged. ‘I think it’s all a bit of a grey area. That’s what the girls are discussing now.’

  Ellie frowned. There was a part of her that thought Ben letting them fight his battle for him was a bit of a cop out. But then, looking across at them in full swing, she realised that he probably hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Once his very own neighbourhood task force had decided they were getting involved, they well and truly got involved. Even the police officers were looking harassed and on the verge of surrender.