Page 4 of Once upon a Summer Night
As Ellie closed out the till, she glanced at her aunt, who was browsing the day’s collection of papers. When she first arrived in England, Ellie was a shy, bright, and completely confused child—and was horribly intimidated by Winnie. As the years passed, though, Ellie realized that Winnie onlyappeared demanding and condescending due to cultural differences. Winnie opened her home, and her heart, and Ellie was forever grateful. She couldn’t imagine life without her spitfire of an aunt.
Closing up shop was not worth a fight with the woman who had saved her, loved her, and guided her into becoming her own person.
“I’m ready if you are.” Ellie joined her aunt and took out her keys. “I’m starving. Care for dinner? My treat.”
Winnie peered over her spectacles and looked her up and down with a frown. “Eleanor…”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you before, I quite like my wardrobe.”
“You’re a beautiful young woman,” Winnie began.
“‘And there’s no need to dress like an aged spinster.’” Ellie finished the statement for her, ending with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m just conservative.”
“You wear that like it’s body armor.”
She glanced down at her long-sleeved brown shirt and tweed, knee-length skirt. “It’s hardly chain mail, Winnie. I look like I own a bookshop.”
“All you’re missing are those hideous glasses.”
Ellie reached behind the counter and jammed the thick-framed tortoiseshell glasses onto her face. “You’re right.NowI’m ready.”
“Cheeky chit,” Winnie muttered, but with a smile. “Those are back in fashion, you know. All right. Let’s head to Spitalfields and try to get into that new restaurant, the one on television.”
“If you want to get into a famous restaurant, you should just tell them who you are,” Ellie pointed out, locking the door behind them. She took her aunt’s arm and they strolled up the street.
Winnie’s eyebrow went up. “I would love a quiet night, Eleanor. Shall we take a taxi?”
Ellie grinned. Her aunt loved the attention she received from her articles inThe British Tea Times, but she refused to admit to it. Irish by birth and English by circumstance, Winnie loved her place in British society. She was universally adored and loathed by celebrities, socialites, and peers. She told it like it was; “a nod,” she claimed, “to my Irish heritage.” And though she pronounced her consonants as crisply as the next Londoner, Winnie was proud that her father was an Irishman.
“I have other news,” Winnie announced. “I need a favor, dear.”
“Of course,” Ellie said automatically. She’d do anything for her aunt.
“Excellent. I’m not sure if you caught that article I wrote last week about the American matchmaker?”
“Oh, yes. Celtic Connections.” Ellie nodded. “I agree with you on all your points. They sound horribly snobby.”
“You’re so sweet. Their publicist contacted the paper a couple of days ago, and they seem anxious to prove themselves over here. They think the English need their services. The Irish, too, but that just shows their ignorance.” Winnie rolled her eyes. “The Irish, needing help to find love.Honestly. However, it seems that the Brits, at least, agree with my thoughts, and the company isn’t gaining any new members. So they’ve asked me to retract my statements.”
“What?” Ellie turned to her aunt, surprised. “Do they not know who you are? You always ask for proof positive to the other side of your argument. And you argued a very solid case, Winnie. If you have income restrictions on a matchmaking service, it becomes less about love and more about class divisions. Money begets money and all that.”
“Right, right.” Winnie gazed out the window, her eyes drifting over the people hurrying to get to where they were going. The autumn winds were blowing through London,and the temperatures dropped further each day. “Which leads me to the favor.”
Ellie’s stomach twisted. Winnie was usually delicate about her questions, but at least once a week, in addition to offering a shopping spree, she wondered aloud if Ellie planned to remain single for all of her days. And since they already covered her wardrobe…
“You know how much I loved my Ernie,” Winnie began.
Ellie tensed. Talking about Winnie’s departed husband and a matchmaking business in the same conversation could only lead in one terrifying direction, and her heart leapt into her throat.
“He was the kindest, sweetest man I ever knew. It was a shame you never met him, but there you have it. He gave me everything he could, and gave me room to spread my wings when they needed to be spread. He stood up to me when I needed that, too. We had some passionate rows!” She speared Ellie with a look. “But, to be honest, he was a bit dull in the bedroom. Even when we were making up.”
“Winnie!”
“Oh come now. We’re both grown women. I’m being honest for your benefit, dearest.” Winnie delicately pulled a handkerchief from her purse and slipped it into Ellie’s palm. “Cover your mouth with this if your sensibilities are shocked again. No one enjoys looking into another’s throat. So, my Ernie, while sweet as sugar, didn’t really ‘get my motor running,’ if you know what I mean. It was a sacrifice, I agree, but I learned early on that no man is perfect. In my younger days, before my marriage, I had just the opposite kind of man—he fanned my flames to the point that I wanted to combust, but he wasn’t good for me. He knew it and called it off.”
Ellie fannedherselfwith the handkerchief. She didn’t know how to respond; her aunt had never been so frank with her, and her feeling of doom intensified.
“Times are different now, dear. Women demand it all, andwe should have it! Excitement in and out of the bedroom isn’t an either/or anymore. It’s anand.”
