The Harbinger Read online

  Her mother dropped her forehead onto her daughter’s shoulder, and she too wept for their mutual loss.

  As Ellie wiped a tear from her cheek on the sleeve of her cardigan, her phone trilled. She answered with a cheery, “Hello, Mum. I can’t talk for long. I’m just sorting through my wardrobe for something to wear.”

  The reply was frosty. “I see. For your date with Michael Devlin, I suppose?”

  Ellie ignored the heavily accented word date. “For all day, actually. By the time I get back from seeing my client, it may be too late to change.”

  There was a short period of silence followed by a loud tut. “When were you going to tell me about the offer of a committee place? Were you going to turn up at the first meeting and surprise me? Although your name was mentioned in passing, I did explain you would probably be busy with work and couldn’t possibly do it. I felt a fool when he told me he was taking you to dinner to try to persuade you to take it, despite your latest work schedule. He must think he needs your services badly.” Her haughty voice drifted off towards the end.

  Ellie felt awful. Her mother prided herself on her civic duties, especially where the library was concerned. She certainly didn’t want her to feel a fool. “Mum, it might not happen. I said I would consider it after I knew the score with the job. I will do that. I’m not trying to muscle in on your territory. Even if I do take it, it’s only because the library means the world to me, you know that. I’ll only be there to help. I don’t need my ego stroked.”

  Again, a brief silence followed. “Oh, well. I suppose we’ll have to leave it at that. I won’t keep you. Have a good time this evening… and good luck with the meeting.”

  “Thanks, Mum,” replied, Ellie. “I’ll phone you tomorrow and let you know how it went.”

  Ellie hung up, but she didn’t take any happiness from her mother’s predicament.

  Ellie watched the bubbles as they died on top of the bath water, popping in clumps from one area to another. She’d checked with her bank, and the rest of the payment for her last job made her smile with satisfaction. She transferred her monthly amount to her savings and paid the bills that were outstanding in her work’s account. It calmed her mind. Now, a long leisurely soak had finished the job. She only had to get dressed, and it would be time to leave for her appointment.

  She stared at herself in the full-length mirror of her wardrobe door, the same way she had the morning of Alex’s funeral. She wore exactly the same clothes as she had then—the two-piece designer suit with its pencil skirt and sharp angles on the collar of the edge-to-edge jacket, pristine starched white shirt with the collar outside the jacket, and even the same tights and low-heeled shoes. She wore a little lilac eye makeup and darkened her lashes a fraction. At her neck, a small amethyst dropping from a gold chain filled the void above her cleavage. Her hair glistered in the glare of the bedroom light, the burnished gold showing highlights of subtle blonde colour. She would do.

  The only thing the smart image couldn’t do was erase the memories of when she’d worn the outfit last. This time, however, she was a little more confident in her coping strategies. Basically, they were clothes. She would remember that if she started a little wobble.

  Her mother had been right.

  Ellie arrived at her appointment a quarter of an hour earlier than expected. Luckily, the Friday afternoon traffic hadn’t been as bad as she thought it would be. Still, she was grateful she’d set off early, allowing her time to calm herself and clear her mind of everything other than the task at hand, but annoyed because she could have had a chat with Holly, rather than just thrusting her weekend case at her.

  She looked up at Rochford Manor through the windscreen of the car from where she’d parked in the large turning circle. The edged stone water feature in the middle of it bubbled away happily, as the three cherubs facing towards the middle spat water at each other. The newly tarmacked driveway appeared a dark grey-black in colour, a major improvement on the sandy roughly hewn, orange-red chippings, which were there previously—a fact given away by the edges of the tarmac which showed signs of the old surface. The chippings were still in use on a wide path at the side of the building, giving access to the rear of the property. Tarmacking the other side of the manor wouldn’t fit in with the splendour of the gardens. This tarmac, she knew, would turn slightly lighter due to weather and usage, but for now, it looked pristine… all the way from the main road. It was quite some distance, so money was obviously no object.

  The house itself was a wonder to behold. All Ellie had seen previously was numerous photographs provided by the client. Now she could compare the work done by the restorers externally to the honey-coloured stone so favoured in the area. The collapsing roof was now intact, and with a completely new covering of redbrick tiles now, it looked immaculate. From what she could see of the main entrance doorway, it had the usual carved figures intact, most of which were missing on the photographs. The missing square chimney stacks were now evident—matching the ones left standing. No wonder the work had taken so long. Ellie wondered if the team of restorers were local. If they were, she needed to add them to her list of contacts.

  In her rear-view mirror, Ellie saw a vehicle making its way down the long drive. A cherry-red VW Golf. No doubt the nippy GTI model too. Ellie smiled. She’d considered the same car at the time of her latest purchase, but then it was well out of her price range and had opted for a cheaper, child-seat friendly make and design. Now, she wasn’t so sure— She quickly gave herself a severe reprimand. There was nothing wrong with her current Meriva so she would keep it for the full three years until its MOT was due, then keep it or upgrade—so eighteen months to go.

  The Golf pulled up beside her, the high gloss shine glimmering even in the dull, flat light. The woman driver dipped her head for a better view as she neared the edging stones. She glanced across at Ellie, a warm smile appearing on her long face. Both women left their cars at the same time, meeting with a handshake on the drive. Ellie wasn’t short at five-feet-seven, but the woman towered over her by at least four inches. She looked every inch the country-liver she no doubt was, in her tweed skirt and camel-coloured driving coat. Ellie gauged her age at around fifty, but she could be wrong by at least five years, either way.

  “Ellie, I presume,” she said cordially, the smile being widely extended.

  Ellie nodded in reply. “Mrs Cowdrey? Pleased to meet you.” Ellie noticed there was a slight tremor in her own voice, proving she was a little nervous and very much intimidated by the situation. However, Mrs Cowdrey’s welcome was as warm as her hand, so Ellie felt sure there was no need to panic.

  “It’s Miss, actually, but I’d prefer it if you called me Amelia.”

  Ellie nodded. “Amelia it is.”

  “Great, we’ll begin the grand tour then. Come on, follow me,” she said producing the biggest key Ellie had ever seen, from the pocket of her coat, along with some folded papers. She waggled them in the air. The key was black, old, and no doubt authentic. Ellie could feel excitement coursing through her as she followed Amelia, to the front door.

  Two and a half hours later, Ellie watched Amelia’s car going down the drive on her way home, taillights shining bright in the near darkness. Amelia revealed so much during the meeting that Ellie felt shell-shocked. Most of it was a complete mystery to Ellie and the most bizarre way of doing business she had ever come across. However, Ellie didn’t care. The job was hers, and the outcome she wanted. Inside, she was relieved but also intrigued. They’d agree on a date two weeks hence and a local bed and breakfast was secured on Ellie’s behalf. The room would remain hers for the weekends, whether she was there or not. That, at least, would save Ellie a job she detested doing, and Amelia had assured her the place had an excellent reputation.

  On the way back, she stopped at the services for a comfort break and texted her mother with the good news, rather than wait until the weekend. To Holly, she just texted she was on her way home. After she’d sent it, she looked at the
text thinking she’d said something amiss. She opened her mouth at the realisation. “Oh, my word!” she said loudly to herself. “I said home!”

  Fifty minutes later, she arrived at Holly’s house. She hurriedly enjoyed a quick wash and a few minutes titivation of her hair. Ellie felt refreshed as she made her way downstairs to the cup of tea Holly had promised her.

  She took it from Holly’s hand gratefully.

  “It should be just hot enough to drink down quickly,” Holly said glancing at the wall that held the frameless clock. “Hurry, you don’t have a lot of time to spare,” her voice heavily laden with anxiety.

  Ellie took a huge gulp. “I’ll use my female prerogative for being a few minutes late,” she said, “like the bride at a wedding. Anyway, it will serve him right, trying to get me to do his dirty work with my mum.” Her furrowed eyebrows made her face look hard.

  Holly looked puzzled.

  “All will be revealed later,” said Ellie. “I’ll just finish my tea, and then I’ll be off.”

  Holly laughed aloud. “Now that is worth waiting up for!”

  Ellie rolled her eyes after realising what she’d said. “Did I tell you lately you’re a pervert? If not… it’s overdue!”

  16

  Ellie managed to find a parking space at the back of the huge carpark. It couldn’t have been further from the entrance if she’d tried. She walked her way around the perimeter, eyeing up the BMWs and Porsches as she went, pulling her suit jacket close to her body, trying to hold it in place whilst coping with her handbag at the same time. It was a cold, cloudless night—so much for the cloud and rain promised on the forecast. The moon was low in the sky, and she glimpsed the sparkle of the stars through the branches of the evergreens edging the walkway. In any other area, she would have felt threatened, but here, she felt safe. A middle-aged couple passed her, walking hand in hand, the woman giggling loudly. Ellie wondered if they were having a secret tryst, or perhaps they were happily married and deeply in love. She let out a heavy sigh as she reached the entrance. Oh well, here goes nothing.

  The maître d’ showed her to the table Michael had reserved. The restaurant was busy, as most were inclined to be on a Friday evening. The reserved table, however, seemed to be in a quieter section, the clinking of knives and forks taking precedence over conversation. The maître d’ obviously knew his clientele well. What looked like some celebration by a bunch of noisy office workers were at the opposite end, well out of the way.

  Michael Devlin rose from his seat as he saw her approach, a broad grin on his face as he fastened the top button of his suit jacket. He was dressed in silver grey with a pale pink shirt and silver tie with pink motif and tied with a Windsor knot. His whole outfit, including the grey brogues, looked very expensive. His black, beautifully styled hair with a longer length had the grey sides a little shorter, giving him a distinguished look. His hazel eyes were a shade Ellie had never seen before, and they reminded her of woodland in the autumn. She guessed his age at late forties. He towered over her as he shook her hand, flooding her body with his heat.

  “Ellie,” he said as he squeezed her hand with his firm grip, wafting his expensive cologne in her direction, “it’s good to finally meet you. I know we’ve nodded at each other a couple of times at charity events, but this time, we get to have a conversation.”

  “Good to meet you too, Mr Devlin,” she said confidently, the edges of her mouth turning up. It was almost a smile… but not quite.

  “May I say, Ellie, you look stunning. A vision in black and white.” The compliment seemed sincere, and she could feel her cheeks turning pink.

  “Thank you, Mr Devlin,” she said stroking the edge of the jacket, her mind bordering around the occasion she last wore it. Even so, her heart began to sink as she thought of her boy, and another adventure he would never experience—fine dining. “You look very smart too,” she said brightly, hiding the hurt from her face and the longing in her heart.

  “Michael, please. No standing on ceremony with me. I was dragged up.” There was reflective look in his eyes, as though he was trying to bury something deep.

  As he retook his seat, the maître d’ indicated hers and pushed in the chair as she sat down. Making herself comfortable, she placed her handbag on the spare seat beside her, and as she turned to face him, she saw him nod.

  “Thank you, Claude. I think we’ll have a drink while we peruse the menu.”

  Ellie butted in. “Just a fresh orange juice for me, thank you. I’m driving,” she said with an embarrassed smile.

  Michael Devlin smiled with his eyes and looked at Claude. “Oh bugger it, I forgot. What the hell, bring the bottle of champagne, anyway. I’ll see if I can make a hole in it.” He laughed loudly. People closest to them turned their heads and smiled. Michael Devlin’s eyes sparkled. He placed his hands in his lap and trained the sparkling eyes on her.

  A young waiter came immediately with two menus, bowing slightly to each of them as he handed them over. Michael placed his on the table while Ellie chose to hug hers close.

  “So tell me,” he said quietly, “what news of the job.” He stared intently, as though eagerly awaiting her answer.

  Ellie was about to answer him when Claude trundled over an ice bucket on wheels containing a bottle of Mumm. She could have kicked herself. She should have taken up the offer of the driver, and then she could have shared a bottle of her favourite champagne.

  “Well, I’ve got it, thank goodness and accepted the offer,” she said relaxing into the conversation. “It will be a long one though, and I’ll have to use a B&B during the week because commuting would put about five hours on my working day, which would be too much, even for me.”

  He looked at her intently. “Will it be worth the sacrifice in the end, though?”

  Ellie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, I’m certain it will be. Rochford Manor is an early Elizabethan boom product from when the constraints of Henry VIII’s near bankruptcy of the country finally eased. The restorers have done a wonderful job on the exterior. Even the missing strap work from inside has been brought back to new. It made my heart leap with joy when I saw it.”

  He widened his eyes, vowing to look the term up when he got home. He had no idea what strap work was. Michael picked up his menu and looked at her over the top of it. “I can tell you love your work with a passion, and that’s good to behold,” he said. “Come on—let’s choose some delights for our dinner. They have a new chef, and I’ve heard good things.” He had an eager look in his eyes when they dropped to read the menu.

  Ellie thought she had a feel for him, but the look she saw in his eyes deflected any thought of it now. “Yes, let’s order,” was all she said.

  Over the seafood platter, they delved deeply into more detail about Ellie’s work, what it entailed and so forth. He was surprised when he found out she enjoyed fine architecture as well as interior design.

  “I’m pretty much open to new ideas as far as the work goes. I’ll listen to what the client wants and see if I can accommodate them. You have to be flexible when it’s your own business, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, especially these days. I have good people working with me, though, and that makes all the difference.”

  “Oh, really,” he said as he sprinkled a little paprika and a spritz of lime juice onto his oyster before placing the half shell into his mouth and tipping his head back. His Adam’s apple jumped before he smacked his lips.

  Ellie nodded her head. “Yes, Irish Master Builder Mick Boyle and his trusty crew. A good hardworking set of men. Extremely reliable. I’m very lucky they are coming to the end of their current job. Mick seems to think I might only have to do a couple of days in the beginning without him. It won’t be too bad because I have more sourcing to do anyway, and I can do some of the preparation work on my own.” Ellie dipped her lobster portion in a tangy seafood sauce and ate it with relish. A rare treat, indeed.

  By the time they were well into their main course, they’d both chosen oxtail with
dumplings, Ellie could tell Michael was itching to ask his unspoken query. “So, is my offer of an unpaid committee place out of the question?” He tilted his head to one side in preparation for his answer. The corners of his mouth twitched as though he’d thought of a smile, and then changed his mind.

  Ellie nodded in a sheepish way. “I’m sorry. I appreciate the offer, but unfortunately, the timing couldn’t be worse.” He seemed to take the rejection well, which surprised her. She was sure he was a man who liked to get his own way, come hell or high water.

  “Oh, well,” he said quaffing some champagne. “I’ll simply have to drink away my sorrows and trawl our worthy town for other candidates. You had so much going for you, as well.” The twinkle had returned to his eyes.

  Ellie thought he was behaving oddly, but put it down to the effects of the champagne, whose level was dropping rapidly in the bottle. She was struck by a pang of jealousy. “I want to thank you for the consideration, though, and I’ll gladly help in other ways, time permitting.”

  “Your work must come first,” he said firmly as he rested his elbow on the table while he stroked his ear. It made him look like a professor. “However, we do have a fundraiser coming up over May Day weekend, so back to the usual.” Michael gave her a toothy grin.

  “Absolutely,” she replied, finishing off her last dumpling.

  It was a quarter to eleven when Ellie finally arrived back at Holly’s house. She switched off the ignition, scrunched up her eyes, and rubbed them. Her whole body felt tired. She hadn’t put in a full day of work for quite some time, and it was beginning to show. She’d been tempted to take off her shoes under the table at the restaurant because her feet ached. She seemed to live in trainers these days, so the dress shoes were a podiatry nightmare.