The Harbinger Read online

  Ellie was very surprised when she pulled into the horseshoe-shaped crescent that led down to her hotel. As she looked for a parking space through the rain-spattered windscreen, she was pleased to see the building consisted of half a street of converted, exclusive Victorian houses, no doubt built when Queen Victoria made a trend of seaside holidays. From what she could tell in the available artificial light, its tasteful conversion was achieved by the use of cream stone with the doors and bay windows accented in white. A glance to her left showed the large looming edifice of the Grand Hotel situated directly opposite, like a big brother looking down on an inferior sibling. The thought made her smile. She didn’t know whether the current owners of her hotel were responsible for the conversion, but hats off to whoever did it as it was extremely tasteful.

  As she approached the bottom of the road, she was giving up hope of finding a parking space until she saw the reverse lights of a vehicle as it manoeuvred slowly out then turned to make its way to the top of the street. Ellie slid her car into the space with a grin. Her first bit of good luck in a while.

  After brushing her damp hair and finding jeans and a T-shirt to change into, she made her way to the restaurant from the first floor. Her allocated room was spotlessly clean, containing a bathroom with a shower, double bed with a large modern picture above the headboard, built-in writing desk with accoutrement, and a comfortable looking chair. She decided she would be more than happy to stay there until her work began, as she tucked into her baked potato with chilli. Despite the fact she believed she had no appetite… the food was good too.

  Ellie couldn’t believe how well she’d slept. Given the fact every aspect of her life was going to hell, she’d had a dreamless sleep for eight hours. When she awoke, she realised she’d forgotten to bring the books she’d lined up to read on her stay, so she added those to her mental shopping list. After a shower, and a quick look out the window at the weather to determine the clothes she would wear, she found herself at the reception desk, dressed accordingly.

  The receptionist, who lifted her head up above the computer terminal, greeted her with a cheery smile.

  “Good morning, madam. How may I help you?” she asked in perfect English with the mere nuance of an east European accent. The receptionist straightened her long dark hair behind her shoulders, leaving a fresh face with high cheekbones on view.

  “I wonder if you could point me in the direction of the nearest newsagents, please,” said Ellie, feeling very underdressed as she looked at the smart woman in the generic uniform. Ellie stroked the sides of her fleece unconsciously.

  The woman, whose name was Nina, according to her nametag, gave her concise directions, and Ellie wondered how many times patrons asked her the same question. Ellie nodded in thanks, zipped up her fleece and headed out the door. Under the portico, she halted, drawing in deep lungsful of sea air, allowing her eyes to adjust to the half-light outside. It was still early, too early for the out of season tourists to be taking the morning air. As she glanced to her right, she became aware of some vast movement out of sight. Although Nina had told her to turn left, directing her to the larger road at the top of the street, Ellie turned right and began to amble the few footsteps it took to reach the end of the hotel at the bottom end of the street.

  Before she reached it, Nina who was scurrying behind her, hailed her. “Madam,” she said taking short breaths, “if you arrived by car, can I ask where you’ve parked.”

  Ellie pointed at her car, just off to her left.

  Nina’s eyes narrowed and pointed to a pole with a plaque bearing parking restrictions. “There is a long stay car park on the street above, madam. The traffic wardens will be out on the streets at nine o’clock.” She didn’t say any more, just turned, and headed back inside.

  “I knew it was too good to be true,” muttered Ellie under her breath, taking the car keys from her pocket and checking she had her wallet and money. “No doubt it will be a rip-off,” she said angrily sotto voce, “just like every other seaside town.”

  Finally, she returned and reached her original position after reparking her car. She was right, she thought, as she stared over the retaining wall. There in all its glory was the sea, caught in the light of lengthening dawn, the gunmetal grey lurking beneath small waves of silver crests. A gentle calm washed over her. She stood there for many minutes, just watching the changing sea and listening to the gulls as they swooped and cawed loudly in search of an early feed.

  She thought of Alex and his love of the sea and revisited the difficulty she’d had in keeping him away from rough water. Cornwall had been a nightmare. He could see the edge of the beach and couldn’t understand why Ellie wouldn’t let him go play sandcastles. He was completely oblivious to the crashing waves as they encroached even further on the turning tide. Her refusal brought on a very rare tantrum.

  A shiver ran through Ellie’s veins as the heat from her body dissipated in the cold morning air. It was time to take her brisk walk in the hope the newsagents would be open this early on a Sunday morning. As much as possible, she would stick to her routine—take her papers to the breakfast table, and for a short while, take time to bring herself up to date with the state of the world. She set off at a brisk pace with the thoughts of the depression it might bring.

  When she joined the T-junction at the top of the street, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted its way into her nostrils. Her mouth watered involuntarily as she noticed a woman her age placing an advertising board outside a shop. As she approached, the woman turned and smiled.

  “Are you open?” asked Ellie hopefully, the aroma of ground coffee laden heavy in the air.

  The young woman nodded with a smile. “I will be in a few minutes. Just have my wares to display. You can come in now if you’d like. Get away from the chill.” She indicated a door that had been wedged open with several lattice-styled plastic trays. Ellie could see croissants in the top tray beneath the edges of the greaseproof paper. Her stomach reacted with a gurgle.

  Ellie held up her hand to indicate she appreciated the offer. “As it happens, I’ll be a few minutes myself. Just going to find the newsagents, then I’ll be back.”

  “Okay. It’s left at the end of this block,” she said, flapping her hand on an extended arm. “I know it’s an imposition, but would you pick me up a Sunday Times while you’re there, to save me nipping out later. I’ll treat you to breakfast,” she said, hopefully.

  Ellie smiled graciously at the woman, whose eyes flashed with the colour of a deep blue sea. “It will be a pleasure,” replied Ellie graciously.

  “Tell Tom it’s for Ciara at The Baker’s Basket. He won’t bother saving me one, then.” She smiled widely, this time displaying a row of even white teeth.

  Ellie was back in ten minutes. She’d been able to pick up everything on her mental shopping list, except some extra items of clothing. The large, heavy selection of Sunday papers, three new thrillers, a street map and some chocolates, biscuits, and few savoury snacks packed the new shoulder bag she’d bought. Tom’s Newsagents was like an Aladdin’s cave.

  She placed the heavy bag on a four-seater table at the back of the shop and fished out one Sunday Times, along with all the supplements. The change from her pocket, she transferred into her jeans and placed her hoodie on the back of the chair. She was still the only person in the café, and she sighed. Reading the papers in the quiet, she classed as blissful. As she approached the counter, Ciara came out from a room at the back of the counter, wiping a hand across her forehead.

  “Oh, thank you…” she said, prompting for a name.

  “Ellie,” she replied handing over the paper and shaking the proffered hand, feeling for some reason extremely embarrassed.

  “Ellie,” she repeated, nodding. “Now, what can I get you for breakfast?” she asked, spreading her arms wide over the display case, which made up the countertop, much the same as Sue’s.

  Ellie’s eyes were wide with awe. So, these were the wares she had spoken of.
There was all nature of breakfast pastries, and as a joke, she was tempted to say one of each. Finally, her eyes came to rest on the large croissants she’d spied earlier at the end of the row. The tops of them glistened golden in the artificial light.

  Ellie pointed. “I’ll have two of those, thank you,” she said, “with butter and strawberry jam. Thanks.”

  “The butter and jam selection are down the far end,” said Ciara pointing down the counter, from the direction Ellie had come from. “Now, which coffee would you prefer, and what would you like me to do with it? Clean answers only, please.” She gave a quick laugh and then covered her mouth with her hand.

  Ellie tittered before glancing at the two lists on the wall. She blew out her cheeks, deciding this was a serious coffee shop. “I’ll have a double Guatemalan Americano in a large mug with cold milk if that’s possible,” said Ellie hopefully.

  “It certainly is,” she answered nodding her head in approval. She’d enclosed her black hair in a pink headscarf, tied under her hair at the back. The rest of the uniform was all black—pants and T-shirt. “Grab your plate, butter and jam, cutlery and napkin. I’ll bring your drink and food over soon.”

  Ellie nodded and pointed to the table she’d chosen.

  True to her word, Ciara was no more than a few minutes. She placed down the food and drink in the space Ellie had made as she moved the papers out of the way.

  “Ah… we have a spreader.” Ciara laughed. “Spreaders cost us a fortune in season, but I’ll let you off today,” she said, taking a quick glance around the empty room.

  Ellie looked at her from under lowered brows as she narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

  Ciara laughed aloud. “Someone who takes up a table of four because of their reading matter.”

  Ellie burst into the giggles. “Very good… spreader. I like it. Yes, I’m one of those. I have a breakfast bar at home, and it’s full every Sunday. My day of indulgence. Would it be okay to spread until you fill up? I intend to be here a while… if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” replied Ciara. “In the trade, it’s known as bums on seats,” she added as a parting shot.

  Ellie stayed over two hours longer, just before leaving indulging herself in another coffee and a Danish pastry, paid for this time. When she’d finished, she waved a cheery goodbye to Ciara across the now crowded café. She made her way back to the hotel room, where she dropped the excess from her bag, then lost herself in a walk. She thought she might give her dad a ring and give him a decent explanation. At least inform him where she was. She detested the fact she might have worried him, but at the time, she couldn’t think of any other way.

  Her job in the room done, Ellie stood in the same position she had a few hours earlier. A quick orientation using the street guide assured her she was overlooking Scarborough’s South Bay. Even with the cloud cover and the chilly temperature, the sea held her captive. She’d always loved the water, but especially the sea. It came with a burst of ozone that seemed to rejuvenate every cell in her body. The seaside just made her mum tired all the time, but her dad felt the same way she did. A summer holiday was never a summer holiday without the sea.

  She retrieved her phone from her pocket and called her dad’s number. At first, she thought it would go to voicemail, but then he picked up after what seemed like an age. “Hello, Dad,” she said her voice low and timid. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the allotment. More to the point is—where are you? I’ve been worried since your phone call yesterday.” His voice exuded patience, but she could see in her mind what his face looked like. Disappointed.

  “I’m in Scarborough,” said Ellie, owning up to her lie from the day before. “I had to get away, Dad. Everything has become a little too much… too real.” She knew he wouldn’t understand what she meant, but she didn’t know how else to describe how she was feeling.

  “I guess this has something to do with Holly. I’ll just tell you one very disappointed young girl left here yesterday. She was looking forward to you teaching her some new dishes this weekend before you left for your new project. Your mum has been asking after you too. I told her there’d been some problems at the property, and you’d been called away early.” He went quiet for a few moments before resuming. “She told me what happened at the library. Have you calmed down enough to speak to her yet?”

  Ellie’s voice hardened. “No, Dad, I haven’t. I don’t like betrayal, and I think she has done just that—betrayed me, not to mention Sue, just so she could sidle up to Michael Devlin. It’s her choice what stunts she pulls, but I don’t want to be involved in any of it. She’s done it once too often.”

  Her dad was quiet again. “Ellie, listen. I know your mum and her mouth. I’ve lived with her long enough to know what she’s like—carried away by the moment, making suggestions and judgements before she knows all the facts or has thought through all the consequences. However, another thing I know is that she is well intentioned. All this is about the library, not her. A committee member is there to do a job and try to keep it going, generate what funds they can. I know she was thinking of Sue, as hard as that is to believe.”

  Ellie rubbed at her eyes with her free hand. “The thing is, Dad, I’m not a committee member, and I don’t tell tales out of school, either. I hope you understand. At the moment, I feel as though I’m letting everyone else down. I don’t want to add you to the list.”

  “No, I don’t feel let down, but I am concerned. If you feel as though you need time to clear your head, I understand that. Please, though, get in touch with your mum when you’ve calmed down. I can’t go through life playing piggy in the middle. Anyway, what guided you to Scarborough? You haven’t been there since you were a baby. I loved the place, but your mum didn’t like all the hills. I must admit, it was rather hard work with you in the pushchair.”

  Ellie laughed. “I didn’t even know I’d been here before. The destination was purely an accident. I looked on the internet for one closest to where I needed to be. Travelodge Scarborough was it. From what I’ve seen so far, it will do nicely. I’ll have a chance to relax, do some reading and get some much needed fresh air.”

  “Well, have a good rest. Keep in touch, and for goodness’ sake, give Holly and Leah a ring. It’s none of my business what’s happened, but I’m sure it’s nothing that’s insurmountable. Think about it, sweetheart.”

  After telling her father she loved him, Ellie ended the call. For the time being, she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to speak to anyone. She needed a rest, some distractions. Time to think of Alex and to refresh her memory of him. She lived in fear she would forget his face, his smell, his laughter. She would read books that would take her to other places. She will let her mind wander where it will. It had been too long.

  26

  By Wednesday, the sea air had taken its toll on Ellie, sapping her strength to almost nothing. The thought she might become like her mother threatened her with a deep depression. Not giving in to the thought, she scrunched up her eyes as she tried to drag herself from the remnants of the deep sleep. She was much later rising than usual. It was twenty to nine by the time she reached The Baker’s Basket, Daily Telegraph tucked under her arm, a couple of hours later than usual. She couldn’t believe the queue outside the door and wondered for a moment whether she should go back to the hotel and have breakfast there. It could be that some of the people in front of her were having takeaways, so decided to hang on a little longer.

  When Ellie was fourth from the front of the queue, Ciara came in from the back room. She was dressed in normal clothes and smiled broadly when she saw Ellie. She pointed to the corner table that Ellie had used since her first day. Glancing over, she spotted a reserved sign on the table and gave a little chuckle. As she walked towards it, Ciara caught her attention.

  “Are you having the usual,” she asked, and Ellie nodded in reply. A creature of habit, she’d had the same every morning since her arrival. Ellie lived by the saying—if it ain’t br
oke, don’t fix it. Watching carefully, she saw Ciara dance her way around a middle-aged woman Ellie had never seen before, as they took it in turns to use the coffee machine. Ciara loaded a tray and shuffled her way through the aisles to reach Ellie’s table.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” said Ciara unloading the goodies from the tray. “I have my breakfast here on a Wednesday morning because it’s officially my day off. I help Margaret with the breakfast rush, though. She can’t manage by herself. If you think it’s busy now, you should have seen it twenty minutes ago.”

  Ellie had wide eyes, as she glanced around the room, noticing there was at least one person at every table, most having multiple. “I’ve never seen it so busy,” she admitted. “I just thought you were ticking over, with it being out of season. I’m grateful of a little company at breakfast, anyway,” she said with a smile.

  Ciara laughed as she pushed the large coffee across the table towards Ellie. The croissants, butter, and jam followed with the cutlery left in the centre of the table. “I can’t complain about the custom. This is probably one of the few shops to make a healthy profit out of season. The locals use it as a meeting place during the day, and those who work outside the town usually stop for takeaways before they leave in the morning. This is the tail end of the rush hour. You’re normally away before the mayhem starts.”

  Ciara ripped off a piece of Danish pastry, cracking the white icing on the top and splintering it across her plate. The piece went in her mouth, and she chewed vigorously, as though her life depended on it. She moistened a finger, picked up all icing pieces from the plate with it, and popped them in her mouth. After wiping her fingers, she picked up her coffee and took a large gulp. “Thank goodness for that,” she said wiping her mouth. “I’m absolutely starving! Guess who fell asleep when she finally finished work yesterday… bloody accounts! I woke up at half past four this morning, and it was too late to go to bed. I had to start baking straight after my shower. I haven’t had time to draw a breath.” She peered across the table at Ellie, who’d finished one croissant and was relaxed back in her chair sipping her coffee. “What’s your excuse?” A slow smile crossed her face, her deep blue eyes zeroing in on Ellie.