ELLIE
Ellie dutifully followed the strict instructions Harriet had given her to come via the Higher Ferry. ‘It’s the only way to come on your first visit. Your first view of Dartmouth will stay with you for ever. Shouldn’t be too much of a ferry queue on a weekday.’
Ellie knew it was her mum’s home town but they’d never visited before and she still didn’t understand this sudden waxing lyrical about the place from Harriet and her insistence on having a family holiday there.
The view of the town as Ellie drove round the final bend in the road would certainly stay in her mind – it was far prettier than she’d anticipated. But Mum had got the bit about the ferry queue wrong. There were at least twenty cars in front of her and the ferry was halfway across the river making for the Dartmouth slipway. Why the hell didn’t they just build a bridge in this day and age?
Ellie wound her window down, allowing a cool sea breeze to float into the car before settling in for the wait. Forced to sit and do nothing but look at the scenery, she found herself thinking about the way her life after redundancy and the breakup with Rod was working out. These days she rarely thought about him, so that was a good thing, wasn’t it? Meant that she was getting on with her life and not wallowing in self-pity like in the early days.
Initially after the break-up, she’d missed her old job more than Rod if she was honest. The lack of a work routine to bury herself in had made the empty days seem even longer. Estelle had been a real saviour there, putting freelance work her way while she pitched ideas to her own contacts. Her work diary these days had several deadline dates for various features she’d been commissioned to write in the next couple of months. She was getting to grips with her novel as well. Writing fiction was so much fun after doing features for all her working life. So things were good really. She was back on track with her working life at least. Plus, Rod was becoming a distant memory.
Cars disembarking off the ferry began to make their way up the hill in a steady stream and as the cars in front of her started their engines and edged their way slowly down towards the ferry, Ellie did the same. One of the last cars to drive on, she was flagged into the right hand-side of the ferry.
Quarter of an hour later, she drove along the embankment, Harriet’s instructions on how to get to Swannaton on the dashboard in front of her.
Seeing a parking space on the quay, Ellie pulled in. She had this sudden yearning for an ice cream. Coffee with clotted cream on top. Delicious. Stopping by the boat trip kiosk to finish off the ice cream before it dripped everywhere, she looked at the pictures hanging on the open stable door.
The artist’s signature had her taking a closer look. Wasn’t that the name of her mother’s friend whose exhibition she’d agreed to write a feature on? Mum had said her friend sold her stuff mainly to holiday makers via her summer job. The woman standing by the kiosk talking to a man with a child in a pushchair, looked about the same age as Mum.
When the woman broke off her conversation to look at her, Ellie said. ‘Excuse me, these paintings. Are you the artist Sabine Wills by any chance?’
‘Yes.’ Sabine smiled at her.
‘In that case I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I missed the opening night of your exhibition. I’m Ellie Lewis. Harriet’s daughter,’ she added by way of explanation.
‘Ellie! How lovely to see you,’ Sabine said. ‘This is Johnnie, my brother, and his little girl, Carla. It’s lovely to see you here in town.’
‘It looks to be a great place,’ Ellie said. ‘Can’t believe Mum stayed away so long.’
‘I expect she had her reasons,’ Sabine said, guessing Ellie didn’t yet know the truth about Harriet’s past. ‘Have you been out to the house yet?’
Ellie shook her head. ‘No. I’m on my way there now but couldn’t resist treating myself to an ice cream. I’d better get going otherwise Mum will be panicking I’m late. Good to meet you both.’
Back in the car and following the one-way route through town and out towards Swannaton, Ellie sang happily to herself, the earlier feeling from the ferry reinforcing itself in her brain. Dartmouth really was a lovely place. It was going to be a good holiday. Life was definitely on the up and up.