Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I took a seat and accepted the menu from the young girl who’d shown me to my table. I ordered some water and browsed the food on offer while she got my drink for me, and I settled on a BLT sandwich with a small side of chips.
With the order out of the way, I pulled out my notebook and pen and started writing. I wanted to capture as much of the area as I could while my brain was still whirring, so I got down to it before my creativity went on hiatus again.
The words flowed. It was effortless. I hadn’t written like this in so long, not even this morning. Maybe it was the fresh air, or it was the fact I was handwriting instead of typing, but it was oh so easy to describe Windermere.
I wasn’t sure I’d even scratched the surface of how lovely the village was. I wanted to explore every nook and cranny, but I knew that was better saved for a day when the words didn’t want to come.
If there was something left to discover, there was something to write about.
I kept writing, even as I ate. It was strangely peaceful here, even with all the people milling about the square and the groups around me who were eating lunch as I was. The chatter was nothing more than a low hum, occasionally broken by a louder laugh or a child’s cry.
I didn’t expect it to be this comforting.
I’d forgotten how much fun it was to people watch. Wherever I went in London it was all the same to me; tourists with wide eyes full of wonder, runners and cyclists tearing across the parks, businesspeople rushing back and forth. Or maybe I was doing my people watching in the wrong places, because this was so much better.
Or I was just falling in love with the easy pace of the countryside all over again.
Hmm.
Maybe I just needed to move.
Wow. Talk about romanticising the place.
“Ellie!” Esme’s bright voice cut through my reverie, and I looked in the direction of her voice.
She was flanked by three women who looked to be the same age as her. One wore tan cigarette trousers with a floral blouse and carried an air of la-di-dah about her. The second was dressed in a polka-dot dress and low heels, and the third woman allowed her white hair to fall about her shoulders in thick curls, and it contrasted beautifully with her scarlet cardigan.
“Esme.” I smiled. “It’s lovely to see you.”
The woman in the polka-dot dress stepped forwards. “Are you—oh, my goodness. You’re Ellie Aarons, aren’t you? The author?”
Ah.
This had to be the book club.
There went my peace and quiet.
I put down my pen and got up, smiling at her. “Guilty as charged.”
The white-haired woman stepped towards me excitedly and grabbed my hands. “Oh, I just love your books. You know, we didn’t believe Esme when she said you were staying on the estate. Why would you be here?”
I didn’t reply.
“She doesn’t mean that rudely, dear,” the polka-dot woman said. “We just thought you lived in London, that’s all.”
Oh.
“I do. I’m here to work,” I explained.
The white-haired woman gasped and dropped my hands. “Oh, dear. Are you working now? Are we disturbing you? I’m so sorry, we’ll leave you to it.”
I fought back a little laugh. “No, it’s quite all right. I was getting ready to leave. You’re not disturbing me at all.”
The la-di-dah lady pulled her sunglasses down her nose and eyed me. “You were writing over there. You didn’t look as though you were getting ready to leave.”
“She was being polite, May,” Polka-Dots said. “You should try it yourself sometime.”
“Ladies, ladies.” Esme stepped forwards and held out her hands. “Ellie, let me introduce you to the book club ladies. This is Susie.” She motioned to the woman with white hair who’d grabbed my hands. “Dawn is the dotty one,” she said, pointing to the woman I’d dubbed Polka-Dots in my head. “And as she said, this rude cow is May.”
May pursed her lips and replaced her sunglasses, presumably to hide the glare I’d caught her shoot Esme’s way. “That’s a fine way to introduce us.”
“I thought so,” Esme said brightly. “We will leave you to it, Ellie. We have a reservation.”
“Does that mean Esme was telling the truth and you are joining us for the book club next week?” Dawn asked, her eyes brightening with excitement.
I nodded. “It’s my pleasure to.”
May grunted. “We’ll see about that, young lady. Now, let’s go. I’m starving.”
I watched them as they all headed inside, and Esme, Dawn, and Susie all waved before the door closed behind them. May didn’t bother, and I let my gaze linger on the door for a second longer.
Great.
I couldn’t wait for book club.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ELLIE
Better the Devil Cat You Know
“You are so lucky,” I hissed at Winston, shoving the door shut behind me. “What if Max had found you? I’d be in so much trouble!”