To the Moon and Back - By Jill Mansell Page 0,110

another bottle of beer. ‘I’m like a girl, all churned up inside. I tell you, it’s doing my head in.’

‘Same.’ Ellie nodded.

‘Do I sound like a girl?’

‘A bit.’

Todd’s lip curled. ‘If Jamie was here now, I’d never hear the last of it. Right, let’s stop.’ He mimed zipping his mouth shut. ‘No more about me. We’ll talk about you. Still going OK with Joe?’

Ellie smiled and nodded; she had been through this earlier when Roo had asked the same question. Except Todd was less likely to want to know if the sex was good.

‘We’re having fun. I feel normal again.’

‘That’s fantastic. Brilliant.’ Todd clearly meant it. ‘I can’t wait to meet him.’

They’d get on well together. Ellie nodded. ‘We’ll do it. I’ll set something up.’

Todd left at eleven. There were two things she hadn’t shared with him. The first was what she’d found out earlier today from Christine. Tony had confided in her about Martha, but Todd didn’t know about any of that, and there was no reason to tell him.

Ellie, though, felt the need to do something about it. Even if she wasn’t sure what.

She cleared the dinner table and loaded the dishwasher, then sat down on the sofa and switched on her laptop.

Sending an email to Tony was off the agenda. Telling him his lover’s husband had died would be just so wrong. If Martha had wanted him to know, she would have contacted him herself.

And she hadn’t. Of course she wouldn’t. Her guilt would be as all-consuming as her grief.

Ellie typed Martha Daines into Google and up came the link to her website.

There was the home page. There was the gallery of paintings. There was the email address.

She wrote the email straight from the heart, without stopping once.

Dearest Martha,

I have just heard, via someone who works at Stanshawe House, about the death of your husband, Henry. I’m so very sorry, please accept my deepest condolences. My father-in-law Tony is a great admirer of your work. I haven’t told him about Henry. I was married to his son Jamie, however, and do know how it feels to lose a husband, so I understand some of what you’re going through and how you might be feeling now. If you ever feel you’d like to email or speak to me, please do so at any time.

Ellie gave her phone number and home address and the link to an online forum for widows that she had found helpful last year when the grief had been at its most overwhelming. She concluded with:

Love, Ellie Kendall. P.S. I mean it about contacting me. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it does help to talk.

Then she leaned back against the sofa cushions and made Jamie walk into the living room.

‘Well? Should I send it?’

Jamie stayed by the door, his hair glinting white-blond from the light behind him in the hallway. He was wearing a pale yellow shirt and the usual jeans.

‘Go for it.’ He shrugged easily. ‘You obviously want to.’

If she tried hard enough, she could even conjure up the smell of him. ‘I know, but is it the right thing to do?’

‘Sweetheart, you want to help her. You’ve got something in common.’ Jamie paused for a moment. ‘And not just the obvious. Do it.’

By not just the obvious, he meant the burden of guilt.

He knew. Of course he knew.

Ellie pressed Send and the email went hurtling off into cyberspace. She might hear back from Martha. Or she might not.

There was now a mischievous glint in Jamie’s eyes.

‘I don’t want to talk about the other thing,’ said Ellie.

‘Sure?’

‘Quite sure, thanks.’

His grin was playful. ‘OK. But I know anyway.’

‘Well, you would.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Bye!’

Jamie left with just a hint of a jaunty swagger. Ellie closed her eyes. This was the second secret she hadn’t shared with Todd this evening. And Roo didn’t know either. It wasn’t the kind of information she would dream of passing on to anyone. Not whilst she was in a relationship, at least.

How would any self-respecting man feel if he were to find out that while he was making love to his new girlfriend, she was busy pretending he was someone else?

Chapter 45

‘Your boyfriend’s waiting outside.’

Was there a particular reason for Zack looking ever so slightly pissed off about it? Ellie checked her watch: three minutes to five.

‘He asked me what time I’d be finishing work. It’s OK if he meets me here, isn’t it?’ She heard herself sounding defensive; Zack hadn’t been in

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