Page 5 of Christmas off Script
Hands shaking, she finished cleaning the bathroom, then vacuumed, tidied, and dusted the rest of the upstairs as quickly as she could. The rooms seemed smaller, the walls closer, as if they were inexorably turning into her own tomb. Her heart hadn’t slowed since the bombshell about her father. She needed to get out of the house so she could breathe properly and organise her thoughts.
Downstairs, she collected all the purchases her stepmother was returning, as well as the gifted items she was selling online, yelled an unanswered goodbye and ran from the house.
Now she welcomed the wet weather. It was cleansing after the suffocating negativity of Michelle’s home. Running along the pavement, her trainers slapped through the puddles and she squinted to protect her face from the sharp stabs of icy rain. Hands full with her stepmother’s packages, she couldn’t hold a brolly, but right now she didn’t care. She just wanted to get home and wash everything about the day from her skin.
‘You’re early today,’the postmaster said with a smile as Ella got to the front of the queue. With budget cuts over the years, Foxbrooke’s post office had gone from being in a large building to one counter in a newsagent. It was currently packed with people getting the Saturday papers, sweets, or taking refuge from the rain. Ella was now soaked to the skin and beginning to shiver.
‘I’ve got plans for this afternoon,’ she replied, lifting the first parcel from her bag.
There was a collective groan behind her as the rest of the queue clocked just how long Ella was going to take, followed by the kind of passive-aggressive tuts and huffs Brits excelled at.
‘I’m making lebkuchen for Christmas,’ she continued.
The postmaster’s eyebrows raised as he scanned the returns label. ‘Won’t they get stale?’
‘No, the flavours need to develop and mingle. Leaving them for a few weeks also improves the texture.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
As soon as he lifted the first package off the scales, Ella replaced it with the next one. She usually visited the post office later when it was quieter. Now the back of her body prickled with the mental daggers being thrown her way by the people behind her.
Her phone rang and she pulled it out while manipulating an unwieldy parcel onto the scales.
Oliver!
Wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder, she took the call. ‘Hey! How are you? I—’
Slipping out of place, the phone crashed to the floor.
‘Can’t it wait?’ a man grumbled behind her.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ She retrieved it, taking out another parcel. ‘Are you coming back today?’ she asked Oliver.
‘No.’
‘Why not? What’s—hang on.’ Feeling the phone slipping again, Ella put it on the counter and turned on the speaker, mouthing ‘sorry’ at the cashier. ‘Sorry, Oli, I’m back. What’s going on? Is everything okay?’
He sighed. ‘No, it’s not.’
Already wired from the morning and the news about her father, Ella’s nervous system ramped up a gear. ‘What’s happened?’
The hubbub of the crowd in the post office disappeared as everyone listened in. The only noise was the beep from the scanner and the pattering of rain on the windows.
Ella placed another parcel on the scales, trying to pretend everything was normal even as each cell in her body was freaking out.
‘Nothing’s happened, but we need to talk.’
Her mouth went bone dry. ‘About what?’
‘Us. I don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore. I want to break up.’
2
Ella listened to the ring tone, grief clawing at her heart, waiting for Oliver to answer as she ran from the post office.
Come on! Come on! Pick up! We can make this work!
After Oliver’s statement had broken her world apart, Ella had cut the call, finished processing her stepmother’s parcels in silence, then left, not meeting the gaze of anyone around her.
