Page 114 of Not So Very Sensible

“You can’t trust everything you see there.”

No. No. “Really?”

He nodded, then took another step. “Ellie, would you give me a few moments to explain? Please?”

“I—I can’t. We are so busy, and they need my help, and—”

“Talk to him, Ellie,” Mum called from the top of the stairs. “I don’t want to see you in here until you’ve finally sorted things out.”

He half smiled. “I’ve heard it’s good to obey your parents.”

She shuddered in a shaky breath. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you want to talk here or go somewhere else? I’m happy to do whatever you want. Whatever makes things easier for you.”

Ethan Ferris. The state’s opposition leader’s son. The man who had been educated in private schools, was a lawyer in one of Sydney’s top firms, who mingled with pop stars and celebrities. He was here. In The Silver Teapot’s cluttered back garden, wanting to talk to her.

Fine. She’d see if he could cope with what her life actually was like.

She gently lowered back onto the rusted white cast iron seat, part of an outside garden setting they’d once used outside the front of the shop, before the local council changed regulations about what was allowed on the pavement for dining. Since then, it had rested in the back here, growing spiderwebs and collecting rust. But it made a great spot to relax and catch one’s breath on busy days like today.

She winced. On what was already one of their busiest days, she’d made things ten times worse by dropping the plates. She wasn’t a klutz. That wasn’t her. But apparently Ethan brought out a different side of her.

He stood before her, in front of a rusted iron frame that Mum had once wondered about as using inside for wall art, before getting nixed by the rest of the family.

“So, what did you want to say?” she finally said.

He eyed her solemnly. “I’ve missed you.”

Her throat clamped. She shook her head. She wasn’t about to cry again. That wasn’t what she did. Even if she’d proved that untrue just moments before.

“It’s true,” he insisted, obviously misinterpreting the shake of her head. “I’ve thought about you every day since we met, every hour on some of those days. I couldn’t believe the string of events that led to this estrangement, when I wanted nothing more than to be back with you.”

Tears pricked, heating the backs of her eyes, and she blinked hard. She would not cry. Would not cry!

He then went on to explain about losing his phone, getting locked out of Instagram, hence his inability to contact her. Then he explained about Lucinda and her cancer-ridden mother, and the pact his mum and hers had apparently made. How this, combined with his dad’s wish for good publicity, meant his hands had felt tied, and he’d agreed for an engagement in name only.

“Then Wayne—remember that man who saw us at the Hydro Grand?”

She nodded.

“He must’ve said something to my sister.” He grimaced. “I’m so sorry Francine was so mean.”

She pressed her lips together.

“She was completely out of line, and for reasons of her own was keen to see Lucinda join the family. Which is why she hosted that stupid party, which I honestly did not know she meant as an engagement party.”

His eyes held veracity, along with something that also looked like pain. Like he too had been hurt by the situation.

Anger flared within her. What a horrible family he had.

“I also did not know that you would be there. I honestly thought it was going to be a simple weekend away. I visited at least a dozen different cafés trying to find you.”

“Really?”

He nodded, eyes sombre.

Oh. After all this, he deserved to know her side of things. “She told my boss she needed someone there for garden lighting.”