Jilted Read online

  ‘Your mother?’ Matilda looked baffled. ‘I didn’t know you two were in touch. I thought the last time you saw Rhiannon was in Perth, just before your …’

  Ellie knew she was about to say wedding. She shook her head and set her friend straight. ‘She never turned up.’

  Matilda’s mouth dropped open like a sideshow clown and her eyes grew cold. ‘But I don’t understand. You told me you spent the weekend in the city together, that she apologised profusely about not being able to make it to your wedding. I wanted to hunt her down, give her what for about missing the most important day of your life.’

  ‘All lies,’ Ellie admitted. ‘I guess I felt like an idiot for thinking she’d care enough to meet up with me, and I wanted you all to think that she did. When she didn’t show, I waited in the bar for five hours, treating myself to cocktails to cheer up. I got quite drunk.’ That was a massive understatement.

  In the next hour or so, Ellie spilled the truth about what had happened that awful weekend in Perth. She left nothing out. She cried a lot. And so did Matilda, who cursed herself for not being there for Ellie when she’d needed her support. But not once did Matilda make her feel any less of a person for her mistakes. She didn’t pass judgement or even make many comments until the end, when Ellie said, ‘So you see how I couldn’t tell Flynn? He’d have hated me.’

  Matilda frowned slightly. ‘I don’t see anything of the sort. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt in my life, it’s to never presume what another person thinks, or how they’ll react in a certain situation.’

  ‘I suppose.’ But the truth was, Ellie couldn’t have coped with seeing the hurt and disappointment in Flynn’s eyes if she had stayed to face her problems.

  ‘Personally,’ Mat said, ‘and this is just my opinion, because as I said, I don’t know the inside of Flynn’s head, but I think he would rather have had you – and whatever came with that – than lose you. He made some bad choices himself after you left.’

  Ellie’s head shot up from where it had been staring down into her lap and a fist full of tissues. ‘What kind of bad choices?’

  Ellie woke on Monday morning feeling utterly drained. The past couple of days had been exhausting – physically, mentally and emotionally. And she’d be a fool to think the worst was over.

  Her guilt had trebled when she heard that for two years after she left, Flynn had gone on a wild bender, becoming best friends with bottles of Jim Beam. And then his dad, Cyril, had been killed in a freak accident on the farm. She could only imagine the pain the Quartermaines would have felt at that deep loss. Flynn and Cyril had disagreed about some aspects of running the farm, and Cyril had been reluctant to take on a few of Flynn’s ideas, but mostly, father and son had been great mates. In a somewhat bittersweet turnaround, though, it was his father’s death that pulled Flynn out of his self-destructive spiral. Where many turn to alcohol in times of mourning, Cyril’s passing shook Flynn enough that he went completely dry. Ellie felt so relieved when Matilda told her that Flynn had reformed, but she couldn’t ignore the painful truth. If she hadn’t run away, he’d never have gone there in the first place.

  Matilda believed the only way for Ellie to truly move on was for her to sit down with Flynn and tell him everything. She shuddered at the thought. Quite aside from the fact that pinning Flynn down would prove a mammoth task, she was scared that in telling him the truth, she risked bringing back hurtful memories for him. Sure, it might get some of the heaviness off her chest, but she couldn’t jeopardise his wellbeing simply to clear her conscience.

  Bottom line was, she’d never stopped loving him. Seeing him yesterday had made that clear. And what was that old saying? If you loved something you let it go? She reckoned that included not rehashing the painful past.

  Her decision made, she climbed out of bed, washed and dressed quickly, and then set to some housework. Matilda rose too and grumbled about being constrained by her cast, so Ellie gave her the important job of drafting the shopping list.

  ‘Leave nothing you desire off that list,’ Ellie instructed. ‘I do not want to be traipsing down to the Co-op every day for something we’ve forgotten.’

  Just when Ellie thought the house was sparkling so much she couldn’t put off the shopping expedition any longer, the doorbell – a yodelling one that Matilda bought on a trip to Austria – sang out.

  ‘That’ll be my friend Joyce,’ Matilda announced, a beaming smile filling her face. ‘She’s going to be your chaperone.’

  ‘Chaperone?’ Ellie raised a brow while racking her brain for memories of Joyce.

  ‘You haven’t met,’ said Matilda, reading her mind. ‘She and her hubby, Howard, moved here three years ago when they bought the caravan park. Howard died last year but Joyce is a hoot, you’ll love her.’

  Joyce let herself in. ‘Everyone adores me.’

  Ellie looked at the fire-engine redhead. Her first thought was that she’d never seen a female built in quite such a … strong way. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect bodyguard. She smiled. ‘Well, shopping with me will soon change that. Nobody adores me.’

  Joyce hooted with laughter. ‘I love her already.’

  After ensuring Mat had everything within arm’s reach, Joyce and Ellie set off in the Premier.

  ‘Mat phoned me last night,’ Joyce announced as she clicked in her seatbelt. ‘She didn’t tell me why you left the Quartermaine boy at the altar, but she said you have your reasons. I want you to know Mat’s word is good enough for me.’

  Ellie’s mood plummeted at the idea that Matilda might have told Joyce more, and nausea set in at the thought of Joyce flapping her mouth about town, of Flynn hearing it all on the grapevine. But she quickly relaxed, knowing her godmother would never break her confidence.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Don’t mention it. Mat’s had a lot on her plate recently. She’s so happy you’re here but doesn’t want you being crucified just because she needs you. She wanted someone else in your corner.’ Joyce’s voice was serious in a way Ellie hadn’t thought possible, judging by her brassy manner back at the cottage. ‘And I want you to know, I’m in your corner.’

  An alien lump formed in Ellie’s throat. She couldn’t quite get another thanks past it.

  ‘We all make mistakes,’ continued Joyce, ‘and I don’t believe in beating oneself up about them. But that’s your business. If you want to talk, I won’t tell a soul your secret, but neither will I press you about it. I just want you to know.’

  ‘Okay. I appreciate that.’ Ellie stared ahead at the road. She didn’t really want to make small talk but she didn’t want silence right now either. Besides, she wouldn’t mind deflecting the attention from herself. ‘So, what do you think of Hope? Do you like running the caravan park?’

  ‘Love it. I’m a social butterfly so I adore meeting all the people that come through. And I find the dynamics of small-town life fascinating.’

  ‘That’s one word for it,’ Ellie snorted. Suffocating and narrow-minded were others.

  ‘You obviously don’t miss it.’

  ‘Actually, I didn’t mind it,’ Ellie said, surprising herself. She’d forgotten. She’d let the horror of her drastic departure overshadow the fact that her years here were the best ones of her life. Busy years, with never a moment’s peace. There was always something going on in the town – whether it be a football game, a quiz night, someone’s party, a fundraiser for the Hospital Auxiliary. It was impossible to be idle, and there was something about the way country people pulled together in an emergency that couldn’t help but warm your heart. She’d loved being part of that, even if now, looking back, she wondered if she’d merely imagined the act of fitting in.

  ‘I could never go back,’ Joyce mused. ‘Not to all those bright lights, crazy streets and people too busy to smile at a stranger.’

  Ellie could tell from the affection in Joyce’s voice that Hope and its people had worked their magic on her. Joyce had fallen in love and the only way she’d ever leav
e was if they carried her out in a box.

  As they found a car space outside the Co-op, Ellie fought the desire to bite her nails. People were already turning in her direction. Heads were shaking. Lips were twisting downwards.

  ‘You know, Joyce,’ Ellie said, ‘perhaps it’d be better if you distanced yourself from me inside. I don’t want my unpopularity to affect your business.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, girl. Most of my business comes from out-of-towners. Besides, if people are that narrow-minded, I don’t want their friendship or their custom. Give this town a bit of credit. Granted, we have a few silly biddies, but once they’ve had their moment, you’ll be old news. Come on, let’s get that moment over with.’

  Ellie couldn’t deny that she felt better with Joyce by her side. As she locked the car – a somewhat unnecessary precaution in the country – Joyce came around to the driver’s side and took her arm.

  ‘Just hold your head high and smile,’ she instructed, and they ventured into the building.

  Ellie was used to being the point of focus whenever she went out and about. In Sydney, even though most people didn’t go stupid over celebrities, she was always recognised. She didn’t mind the attention – she liked talking to fans, and was more than happy to give her autograph when requested. Not that she’d be getting any such requests around here.

  The moment they stepped through the automatic doors, Ellie felt the chill of the frozen foods section against her cheeks, reminding her of the reception she was expecting. Her gaze moved to the checkout where she’d once worked after school and on Saturday mornings. There was a queue – two trolleys equalled a mad rush in Hope. The customers met Ellie’s eyes and then quickly looked away. She recognised the operator as a girl she’d gone to school with. They’d been quite friendly in the past but now she wasn’t even giving Ellie the chance to toss that smile Joyce had recommended. The woman made sure her eyes didn’t come near Ellie’s.

  Straightening her shoulders and jutting her chin forward, Ellie grabbed a trolley and glanced at Joyce. ‘Let’s do this.’ The quicker the better, she thought.

  In response, Joyce smiled encouragingly and held up their shopping list. As they traversed the aisles, customers stared and were more than generous with reproachful glares. One woman even tsked. Halfway round, Ellie decided she could either let them upset her or she could …

  ‘Hi.’ She offered a woman in aisle three a huge grin. ‘Emma, isn’t it? We went to school together.’

  Emma, who had divine, jet-black hair in a catwalk bob, blinked and looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon whole. Ellie’s heart stopped mid-beat as she waited for a response.

  ‘I’m surprised you remember,’ Emma said eventually. ‘Welcome back.’ Her welcome couldn’t be described as warm, and there weren’t any polite comments about catching up, but she hadn’t spat in her face either. Ellie put that down as a win.

  As Emma walked briskly away, Ellie gave Joyce two thumbs up. They raided items from the shelves and soon filled their trolley. Ellie smiled at a couple of customers she didn’t recognise and even stopped to talk to one of her old teachers while Joyce read the labels on different baked bean tins. The teacher – Mrs Ellery, who taught English and Drama – had aged about twenty years in the last ten but she could still talk for Olympic gold. She chewed Ellie’s ear off for what seemed an hour, pride shining through as she acknowledged one of her prodigies had made it big. It was funny, Drama had never been Ellie’s favourite or best subject – not that Mrs Ellery remembered it that way. Her break was, if anything, accidental.

  When she’d arrived in Sydney, Ellie had started waitressing at a trendy, inner-city bar. Located next to a mainstream television production company, it had been the hangout of some top-notch producers. Out of the blue one night, one of them asked if she’d like to be an extra in a location episode he was shooting. Hungry for extra cash and happy she’d only be a shadow in the background, she agreed.

  Pretty soon Ellie became a regular extra on Lake Street and, as the saying goes, one thing led to another. She was introduced as the long-lost daughter of a much-loved older character, and as the audience adored her, before too long she was a permanent resident on Australia’s favourite street.

  But if you’d asked her at seventeen what she’d wanted to be, actress would never have crossed her mind.

  ‘We’re reviving the theatrical society,’ Mrs Ellery said. She caught the first breath Ellie had heard her take in about five minutes and then added, ‘You should come along. We could do with your wisdom.’

  ‘Oh no, I couldn’t.’ It was all Ellie could do to stop breaking into nervous hysterics at the thought. Venturing out to buy groceries was one thing, but she could just imagine her reception if she tried to wheedle her way into the group. ‘I’m not here for long, and there are a couple of things I want to do in that time.’ Painting Mat’s gutters and awnings was a much safer bet than what Mrs Ellery had in mind.

  ‘Think about it, dear.’ Then, with a pat on Ellie’s forearm, Mrs Ellery doddered off down the aisle pulling her tapestry trolley behind her.

  Ellie did think about it, her thoughts distracting her as she and Joyce finished the shopping. She barely noticed the cold looks and people turning the other way when they saw her coming down the aisle. The town’s last production – Mary Poppins – had been the year before she’d skipped town. In the middle of winter, it had been the highlight of the cold season. She hadn’t been involved, but Matilda had directed and Ellie had often hung around watching rehearsals. The atmosphere whenever the cast and crew got together had been exhilarating.

  ‘Think that’s us done now,’ said Joyce, interrupting Ellie’s memory. ‘Unless there’s anything else you can think of.’

  ‘No.’ Ellie stared ahead at the checkout, trying to remember the name of the girl behind the counter. She knew if she acted friendly and not like the snob they all took her for, she’d stand a better chance of not being stoned. That started with addressing people by their names.

  As she stopped the trolley at the front of the store, however, her gaze drifted to the newspapers on a stand next to the checkouts. Across the front page of The West Australian was her face, large and flushed against the pale cement of the service station floor. The headline: STELLA’S SOAP OPERA PAST IN RURAL WA. Flynn’s scowling – but still terribly sexy – face was inset at the bottom of the page.

  Her heart plummeted at the publicity she neither needed nor wanted. Ten years ago, when she was first starting to make a name for herself, one particular hound of a journalist had almost uncovered the whole story. Luckily a well-known cricket personality had indulged in an affair with a newsreader about the same time, and the story of Ellie and Flynn and their non-wedding had died a quick death.

  Her mobile began to shrill from her handbag, the unmistakable tone of Lady Gaga interrupting her thoughts. She ripped the zip open and snatched the phone. Not at all surprised to see the caller was her agent, Dwayne Wright, she pressed reject and shoved it back inside. There wasn’t time to deal with Dwayne’s fury right now – she had about five hundred newspapers to buy.

  ‘I’ll take the lot,’ she told the woman behind the checkout, gesturing to the newspapers. ‘And if you’ve got any out the back, I’ll take them too.’ Dammit, her name was Simone, she remembered a moment too late.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Simone scoffed, making a derogatory sound between her teeth. ‘I can’t sell you all the newspapers.’

  ‘Why not?’ Ellie’s heart tripped over itself. ‘My money’s as good as anyone’s.’

  Not deeming her comment worthy of a reply, Simone leaned forward and spoke into the PA. ‘Gavin, can you please come to the checkout? Gavin.’

  ‘Who’s Gavin?’ Ellie hissed to Joyce.

  ‘The manager,’ Joyce whispered back.

  Ah good, thought Ellie, surely he won’t turn down legitimate sales. But of course she was wrong. The manager, whom she recognised as a distant relative of Flynn’s mother, wasn’t e
ven sure he wanted to let her buy one newspaper.

  ‘I don’t want you causing havoc in my shop,’ he announced, his pudgy arms folded over an impressive beer gut. ‘Perhaps you should just leave.’

  To hell with being polite, Ellie had just about had it up to here with some of the people in this silly, back-of-beyond town. She thrust her finger at the sign that hung across the entrance. ‘Last time I checked, this was a co-operative.’ She dragged the last word out, showing exactly what she thought of him. ‘And as I recall, co-operative means owned by the community, whereas you are just its manager. So I’m buying the damn food in this trolley and I’ll buy as many newspapers as I want.’

  Upset and sweating, Ellie leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the thick pile of papers. She yanked them up and dropped them on the checkout, narrowly missing Simone’s fingers. Her sunglasses tumbled off the top of her head and the newspapers fell off either side of the ancient conveyer belt making a mess on the floor.

  ‘I’ll pick them up,’ said Joyce, her voice taking on a warning tone. ‘You go wait in the car.’

  At Joyce’s words Ellie cringed. She looked at the faces now glaring at her from all over the store. She’d totally lost it, confirming what most of the town probably thought – that she was some up-herself celebrity who thought money could buy everything. Truth was, all she wanted was the chance to prove them wrong. That she wasn’t the evil Jezebel they’d pegged her as. What happened to being human? What happened to everyone making mistakes?

  Her eyes brimmed with tears she didn’t want to shed in public. Years on the small screen had made her very good at being able to turn the waterworks on when she didn’t really feel like it, and an expert at switching them off when in the public eye. But right now, she was losing the battle.

  Opting to accept Joyce’s out, she stooped to pick up her sunglasses, almost poking herself in the eye in an effort to put them back on. She left the store, walking briskly and failing dismally to hold her head high.