Page 109 of Christmas off Script
Ella couldn’t. It was like staring into hell.
‘But it’ll never come to that,’ Michelle sneered. ‘He’ll see sense, just like Oliver and Zach did. Face it, Ella. No-one wants you.’
Ella’s feet moved of their own accord, stumbling towards the front door as Michelle followed, screaming obscenities. Making it outside before another blow could fall, she ran down the path, onto the street and away, her stepmother’s voice still ringing in her ears.
Only when she was almost back to the manor did her pace slow, tears tumbling from her as fast as her gasping breaths. She couldn’t believe she’d finally walked away from Michelle. But there was no relief, only emptiness and the fear of what was to come.
Her phone pinged in her pocket and she pulled it out.
Kyla-Marie: You selfish little bitch! How could you leave Mum like that?
Kyla-Marie: Just you wait till Dad hears what you’ve done
Ella blocked her number, then continued towards the manor with leaden feet. Was her stepmother right about Leo? Would he tire of her as Oliver and Zach had done?
Shut up! Stop it! YouknowLeo. He’s a lion with a heart of gold. Even if he didn’t want to sleep with you anymore, he’d still be your friend.
Entering the large open space in front of the manor gates and Saint Saviour’s church, Ella turned right towards the park. She couldn’t face seeing anyone until she’d composed herself.
Her phone buzzed again. Was it Billie-Mai messaging to tell Ella how evil she was? Sighing, she took it from her pocket and gazed at the screen.
Leo: How does Good King Wenceslas like his pizza?
Wiping her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitched.
Ella: I don’t know. How does Good King Wenceslas like his pizza?
Leo: Deep pan, crisp and even…
She laughed out loud, a spark of happiness lighting the darkness in her chest and chasing the demons away.
Ella: Lol. I know we were meant to be making Christmas wreaths later on, but are you free now? I can be in the arboretum in about ten minutes, but I don’t have secateurs or a bag x
She watched the dots appearing, then disappearing. Finally, his message came through.
Leo: Meet you at the Himalayan Cedar in a bit? XXX
Ella: Yes xxx
Rubbing the slender,scale-like leaves between her fingers and thumb, Ella brought them to her nose and breathed in deeply. The scent was grounding, anchoring her to the here and now. Surrounded by trees far older than herself in the quiet calmness of the estate arboretum, she felt connected and rooted. Both to who she was on the inside, and also to an utterly different world to the one she’d just left behind at her stepmother’s.
Michelle had been wrong about a lot of things, but one image Ella couldn’t erase from her mind was the inside of Saint Saviour’s church if Leo and her ever got as far as marriage. The idea of his family on one side of the church and hers on the other made her stomach roll. It would be like trying to mix crude oil with spring water. The thought of her dad and stepmother swanning around the manor. Seeing what they could pinch without being caught made her want to vomit. And if her biological mother showed up, which flavour-of-the-month boyfriend would she have on her arm? Ella shook her head to try and dislodge the pictures in her mind, but they were stuck like burnt food to the bottom of a pan.
In the distance, striding along a sandy path through the trees, she spotted Leo, a bag over his shoulder. Lifting an arm, she gave him a wave.
He froze, then bolted left behind a tree.
A giggle bubbled out of her. They hadn’t played their game of ‘inept spies’ for years.
The top half of Leo’s face appeared around the side of the trunk, then he crept across the grass like a long-legged spider attempting to be stealthy, until he’d hidden behind another tree, closer to her.
The Himalayan cedar had long, languorous branches that reached to the ground. Pushing her way through them to the trunk, Ella climbed up a couple of branches to hide. Through the thick green foliage, she caught glimpses of Leo as he got closer, running from tree to tree.
Reaching the cedar, Leo pushed through the branches as if hacking his way through a dense jungle, then stood with his back to the trunk. ‘What is a Christmas tree’s least favourite month?’ he stage-whispered.
‘Sep-timber,’ she cried, then jumped off her perch and stood in front of him, her heart pitter-pattering in her chest.
Leo’s cheeks were ruddy from the exertion, but his gaze was steady and questioning as he took her hand. ‘What happened?’
