The Lake House Read online

  ‘Dolores, it’s me… Ella,’ she said, slowly pulling back the curtain. Dolores was lying underneath a white cotton sheet with a blue blanket tucked in around her chest, fast asleep. Ella couldn’t help but smile. Even though Dolores was in hospital, her hair was just so, her blonde curls framing her face and resting over her shoulders, and she had a full face of makeup. She looked peaceful lying there, even though she was hooked up to a machine at the side of her bed, the wires protruding from a gap in her nightie. It bleeped every few seconds.

  Slipping quietly on to the chair at the side of her bed, Ella switched her phone to silent. She watched Dolores sleeping. The map of wrinkles on her face showed a life of experience, her eyebrows were immaculately shaped, and Ella was a teeny bit jealous that her eyelashes looked better than her own. She wondered what sort of life Dolores had lived. Thinking back to the star-studded line-up in the photograph album over at The Lakehouse, that was certainly a different world to today’s. These days the world was full of reality-TV stars that had no real talent, their careers based on their looks or their love life. Whereas Dolores was an actual singer with fans who followed her career. From what Wilbur had said, she had lived life to the max and fulfilled ambitions others could only dream of, and her career had started at The Lakehouse. Ella wanted to know all about it.

  For a moment she watched Dolores sleep before reaching for the well-thumbed magazine on the table next to the bed. She flicked from page to page until Dolores began to stir. The second she opened her eyes, Dolores smiled at Ella and was in good spirits.

  ‘A visitor… It’s lovely to see you… They can’t get rid of me just yet,’ she joked, sitting up straighter. ‘I’m destined to receive my letter from the Queen.’

  Ella leant forward and gave her hand a little squeeze. She couldn’t help thinking that must be something you think about a lot when you reach that time of your life. ‘It’s lovely to see you too. You gave everyone a little scare there for a minute. Please don’t do it again.’

  Dolores gave a chuckle. ‘I’ll try not to. How’s my brood, are they behaving? I’m missing them.’

  ‘McCartney and Fred are just fine, don’t worry about them. McCartney slept on my bed, he’s made himself at home. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Bored is what I am. The conversation isn’t up to much in here, and this bed is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve slept on in a long time. I just want to go home.’

  ‘You’ll be home soon enough, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘So what have I missed?’

  Ella smiled. ‘Dolores, you’ve been in here less than twenty-four hours, there’s nothing to miss!’

  ‘There’s always something to miss. Did you go and pick up your uniform at The Lakehouse?’

  Ella nodded. ‘Yes I did!’

  ‘And what did you think of the place?’

  Ella brought her hands up to her heart. ‘What an absolutely stunning location, the whole place has a magical feel about it.’

  ‘I’m going to book and Hamish can take me for lunch. I can’t wait to see the place again, it holds such very special memories for me. I can picture it now, packed to the rafters, the pianist playing on the grand piano, exquisite food, and does it still have the separate roof terrace? Many glasses of champagne have been drunk on that roof terrace!’

  ‘It sure does, and I can’t wait to start work there, even though I’m not sure how long I will be there.’ Ella scrunched up her face.

  ‘Why, are you planning on moving on so soon?’ Dolores reached for the glass of water at the side of her bed, but her eyes were still on Ella.

  ‘I wasn’t intending to, but the way things are going, that pianist will be playing to himself.’ Ella shared with Dolores the news that The Lakehouse wasn’t doing as well as Flynn had hoped, and that it was already losing money.

  ‘Word of mouth… reputation. The Lakehouse never had to advertise. Anyone who was anyone knew it was there.’ Dolores was thinking out loud. ‘That place is full of history, it’s an iconic establishment, it can’t shut again. That place launched my career. Anyone who was anyone performed there on a Thursday evening. It was a club for the rich and famous. I still have my little black book…’ Dolores gave Ella a knowing look. ‘I have the phone number of every person who ever performed there. Sadly, now some have passed away, but the majority of us are still hanging on for dear life.’

  ‘Tell me how you started out. We saw a photo of you in an old album over at The Lakehouse.’ Ella was loving this conversation. She could picture Dolores hanging out with the rich and famous back in the day.

  ‘By accident!’ chuckled Dolores.

  ‘Tell me more?’ Ella was genuinely interested.

  Dolores patted Ella’s hand and laughed heartily. ‘That night, I should have been somewhere else, but rumour had it that Frank Divine was making a special appearance at The Lakehouse. Frank was huge, a household name, a sex symbol with amazing talent. The guest list was by invitation only, but that wasn’t going to stop me and my best friend Blossom Rose sneaking on to the boat and pretending we were someone we weren’t. The pair of us used to have so much fun. Cutting a very long story short, we talked our way into The Lakehouse. Honestly, we just couldn’t believe it, champagne was being handed out like it was water, and we were surrounded by some of the most famous people in the world.

  ‘Then Frank Divine took to the stage by the baby grand piano. The tables were pushed to one side and everyone was dancing. Blossom and I were having a ball. Frank noticed us and he kept giving me the eye. Then all of a sudden, his hand reached forward, and he pulled me up next to him. Everyone was watching, but I didn’t feel nervous – just excited, my whole body was buzzing. Then without warning, he held the microphone towards me and I sang back to him the song he was singing. He stopped dead in his tracks, and I carried on singing. The whole room erupted in applause, and it was a feeling I’ll never forget.

  ‘Then we began to sing together. I took a bow at the end and Frank kissed me on both cheeks and asked my name. Then, within seconds, there was a guy at the side of me with a huge bucket of champagne and he introduced himself as Richie Kirk. He was Frank’s manager and he signed me on the spot. The rest is history. The Lakehouse signed me up to sing every Thursday night alongside other artists and before I knew it, everywhere I went people recognised me. If it wasn’t for The Lakehouse and that night, goodness knows what I would have ended up doing as a career.’

  ‘What an amazing story! That place has so much history. Surely Flynn has some way of using its reputation from the past to make it a success again?’ Ella’s mind was ticking over.

  ‘From what I know, Flynn Carter is an intelligent and successful businessman. He’ll come up with a strategy to make the place work. But anyway, enough of that, how are you? Tell me how you are settling in,’ Dolores commanded. ‘Have you made any other new friends yet?’

  Immediately Ella thought of Roman. ‘Thanks to McCartney, I’ve met Roman.’ Ella told Dolores the story of McCartney eating his sausages, which made Dolores chuckle. ‘He may be deaf, but that dog can smell a sausage a mile off, and I told you you would meet someone when you least expect it.’

  ‘I haven’t met him… well, I have met him, but not like that; we’ve only just met. Actually, he brought me here today.’

  ‘He brought you here today?’ Dolores gave Ella a knowing look. ‘I know you’ve not had an easy time of it, but just take each day as it comes and live for the moment. And remember that not everyone is out for what they can get.’

  Listening to Dolores’ words of wisdom, Ella knew that she was right. Maybe she should ask Roman out for a drink, just as friends? He could show her around. She found him attractive, but Ella always had that nervous niggle in the back of her mind – could she let anyone get close to her again?

  ‘Sometimes this world is cruel, and you have to grab every bit of happiness whilst you can.’ Dolores’ tone was suddenly sad and Ella sensed that Dolores had a story of her own to tell, but
before she could say any more, the nurse appeared at the end of her bed.

  ‘How are you feeling Dolores?’ she asked warmly, picking up her arm and taking her pulse.

  ‘The machine is still beeping, so I must still be alive.’

  ‘Every cloud,’ The nurse winked jokingly.

  Whilst Dolores was distracted by the timely arrival of the nurse, Ella’s thoughts drifted back to Roman. Maybe she could ask him out for a drink as a thank-you for bringing her here today. After all, that was the least she could do.

  As soon as the nurse left, Dolores waggled her finger at Ella. ‘Ask him out – friendships that blossom are wonderful things.’ It was like Dolores had just read her mind. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ joked Dolores. ‘You’ll have to swim to work if you two fall out.’

  ‘I’m not a strong swimmer, so let’s hope that doesn’t happen!’ Looking down at her watch, Ella realised that they had been chatting away for over an hour and was conscious that Roman was just sitting in the carpark waiting for her. It was probably time to make a move.

  ‘And one more thing. Would you be kind enough to have a slice of cake waiting for me when I get home?’ Dolores lowered her voice and looked towards the curtain. ‘The food in here isn’t up to much. I wouldn’t feed it to my worst enemy. Creamed potatoes,’ she whispered, wrinkling up her nose.

  Ella grinned. ‘I think I can manage that,’ she said, standing, ‘and I’ll see you tomorrow after I’ve finished my shift.’

  ‘Fingers crossed, I’ll be home.’ Dolores gave Ella a warm smile.

  Bette hadn’t moved a muscle when Ella returned to the car. She peeped at Roman through the window and his eyes were closed. She rapped loudly on the window, causing him to bolt upright.

  ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’ Ella grinned, flinging open the door and climbing into the passenger seat. Roman’s eyes were wide. ‘You frightened the life out of me!’ He quickly ruffled the front of his hair whilst checking his appearance in the mirror.

  ‘Don’t worry, you weren’t dribbling.’

  ‘That’s a bonus, but more importantly, how’s Dolores?’

  ‘Hopefully home by tomorrow, fingers crossed. She’s going to be just fine, and I’ve had a very interesting history lesson. Did you know that The Lakehouse was the start of Dolores’ career? Back in the day that restaurant was a gold mine.’

  ‘Mmm, let’s hope this marketing meeting today can produce some ideas to turn the place around and make it into a gold mine again.’

  ‘I’m sure Flynn won’t go down without a fight.’

  ‘Here,’ Roman reached to the dashboard and held up a cardboard cup. ‘I’ve only just closed my eyes after getting you a skinny latte from the coffee van. It should still be hot.’

  ‘Skinny… are you trying to tell me something?’ Ella jested, putting her hand to her chest, pretending to be hurt. ‘Do I need to go on a diet?’ she teased with a glint in her eyes.

  ‘Hell no,’ replied Roman over-enthusiastically, causing Ella to laugh. ‘You look mighty fine to me.’

  ‘I’m only winding you up.’ She grinned, about to take the drink from him.

  ‘Good job I’m winding you up, then, isn’t it? I got you a luxury hot chocolate with all the trimmings, mine is the skinny latte,’ Roman patted his stomach. ‘I really need to lose a few pounds… unlike some.’

  Ella’s eyes widened as Roman produced the most scrumptious-looking drink in a cup from the drinks holder. ‘Wow! Look at that!’

  ‘You have marshmallows, cream, chocolate flakes and enough calories to sink the titanic, and I hope it tastes as good as it looks.’

  ‘Now that’s more like it.’ Ella was impressed by his kindness. ‘Thank you!’ she said, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, leaving a moustache of cream above her lip.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he replied, bursting into laughter as he put the key in the ignition.

  ‘What? What are you laughing at?’

  Roman looked at her in amusement and gestured to her top lip, which Ella immediately wiped clean with the back of her hand, then quickly checked her reflection in the mirror on the back of the sun visor.

  ‘Right, let’s get you home.’

  Luckily, Bette was playing ball when Ella reached for her seatbelt and clunked it in place, but when Roman attempted to turn over the engine, nothing happened. Thankfully she started on the third attempt. He patted the steering wheel. ‘That’s my girl.’

  ‘Do you always talk to Bette like she’s a person?’ asked Ella, studying his profile as Roman looked over his shoulder before reversing Bette out of the space. His wild hair really did have a mind of its own. His eyes were piercing, and his stubble glistened in the sunshine. His navy-blue polo shirt clung to his abs and his skinny jeans were a different look from his sailor’s outfit.

  Would asking Roman out for a drink be such a bad thing?

  Roman was just about to put Bette into first gear when he locked eyes with Ella. ‘What, why are you staring at me?’

  Damn, he’d caught her watching and Ella lost her nerve.

  ‘Nothing,’ she replied, fixing her gaze forward but still smiling.

  As the car began to move, Roman pushed the cassette tape into the player and Simple Minds blurted out of the crackly speaker. ‘Great tune,’ he said, driving towards the barrier. ‘I need coins,’ he muttered, patting his pockets. ‘I forgot about the car park.’ He quickly rummaged around inside the glove compartment, but Ella came to his rescue, emptying the silver coins from her purse on to her lap and counting out the change.

  As the barrier lifted, Ella was plucking up the courage to ask out Roman for a drink but he was saved by the bell: his phone began to ring.

  Immediately, Roman indicated to pull over into the layby a little further up the road. ‘Sorry, Ella, I need to take this call.’ As soon as Roman pulled on the handbrake he was up out of his seat with the car door firmly shut behind him. He began pacing up the embankment with the phone to his ear like his life depended on it. He was deep in conversation and Ella watched his frantic hand movements as he threw his arm up in the air. Ella could see from the car that he looked like he was in turmoil. Finally, he finished the call and sat back in the car. Without speaking, he started the engine and began driving. For a moment a heavy silence settled over them, the tension uneasy.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ asked Ella, breaking the silence. She noticed that Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  For a split second Roman looked like he was going to say something but changed his mind. He kept his eyes firmly on the road as he drove across the bridge towards Heartcross.

  ‘Sometimes talking about things can help. A problem shared…’

  ‘It’s nothing, just family business.’

  ‘I can see that family business is causing you some upset. I hope you can sort out whatever it is soon.’

  Roman looked her way. ‘I’m just struggling with a situation at the minute, but there’s only me who can sort it out. I’ll get there, but thank you.’ Roman didn’t say anything else as he pulled up on the kerb outside the entrance to the village shop and pulled on the handbrake.

  Like the gentleman he was, he jumped out of the car and opened Ella’s door for her. ‘Back safe and sound.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied, attempting to press down the red button to release her seatbelt, but nothing happened. ‘Bette doesn’t seem to want to let me go.’

  Roman reached over and brushed his hand against hers. The feel of his touch sent an unexpected shiver down her spine as she sat back against the seat. He unclipped the seatbelt with ease. ‘There must be a knack to it,’ she said and climbed out of the car.

  ‘I’ll see you at work tomorrow, and Roman…’ Ella paused. ‘I know you don’t know me that well, but sometimes it’s good to talk. If Callie hadn’t rescued me at such a difficult time, goodness knows where I would have ended up, but it wouldn’t have been Heartcross.’

  Roman nodded and held her gaze. ‘Thank yo
u. I hear you, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Ella watched as he clambered back into the car, leaving her wondering what was going on in his life. She’d opened up to Roman about Alex, but Roman hadn’t felt able to do the same. Whatever was going on for him, she knew it must be more than run-of-the-mill stuff. She didn’t like to see anyone struggling, especially when she knew first-hand that having a friend to talk things through with and support you was worth its weight in gold.

  After Bette disappeared at the end of the road Ella opened the door to the stairwell and heard footsteps thumping down the stairs. She was met by Callie bounding towards her, her arms full of files and notepads. ‘I’m late, I’ve got to hurry to make the boat. How’s Dolores?’ she asked, still walking but talking.

  ‘Hopefully home tomorrow.’

  ‘Good, fantastic news! McCartney hasn’t been for a walk yet, so if you have time… I’ve really got to run, but don’t forget Sunday dinner at the pub… The gang will be there – Julia, Eleni, Felicity and Isla. You’ll love them.’

  ‘Fab! I look forward to it, and good luck with the marketing meeting,’ Ella bellowed after Callie, but the stairwell door had already shut firmly behind her.

  Looking for the flat key in her bag, Ella thought about sharing her concerns about Roman, but what was that going to achieve? And she didn’t want Roman thinking she was talking out of school. She was torn. Maybe if things got tougher for him he’d realise he could open up to her, and she was there to help.

  After kicking off her shoes and hanging up her coat Ella had her afternoon mapped out: a walk with McCartney, followed by a spot of housework, a long soak in the bath and tea at the pub, but first she fired up her laptop and immediately logged on to Facebook, then typed in Roman’s name.

  He came up straight away and she admired his profile photo. His privacy setting were watertight, his friends list not accessible, but Ella clicked on to his profile pictures. There were three altogether. The first one was of Roman pictured backstage with a band, wearing a T-shirt sporting the words Tour Manager, with all the band members pointing towards it. The second was Roman’s current photo and in the third Roman had his arm draped around a beautiful girl who wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of Vogue. A slim size eight with long brunette hair that hung below her waist. Her make-up was immaculate, her eyebrows pencilled to perfection, and over her shoulder she clutched a Louis Vuitton bag. The girl was tagged in the photograph and Ella clicked on her name… Megan Docherty. Ella was amazed to discover that this stunning young woman was Roman’s daughter. She was shocked to discover that he was a dad because he’d never given the slightest hint that he had a daughter. Ella wondered if Megan was an only child, and where was her mother?