Last Christmas (9 page)

She felt her nerves jittering again, a lump in her stomach rising up, trying to escape up through her throat. Feeling light-headed, she placed a hand on the back of the sofa to steady herself.

“What’s wrong Ella?” Daisy asked with concern.

“Oh, I’m just nervous. Being centre of attention, people showing up etc. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Oh don’t worry about numbers! On the facebook event alone it says over two hundred people are coming and there are lots of people from the art world that we invited that aren’t on facebook. So they’ll be more than two hundred people here tonight! Don’t worry!” Daisy reassured her.

“Daisy’s right. Look at the page,” Sophie said, while getting up the event page on her phone.

“
Ella
Moore
Exhibition
at
the
Beat
:
Opening
Night
. 243 attending, 67 maybe, 59 invited.
See
!” Sophie squeaked.

A look of relief flooded Ella’s face. She was starting to feel more confident about the opening now and the sense of excitement she felt earlier was coming back to her. Just as Ella sighed and sat back in the sofa, Hugh bounced through the gallery front door. He strode through the main room, his eyes feasting on the room as his portly stomach wobbled and his grey ponytail swung from side to side. Hugh was the owner of the Beat Gallery who had come across her paintings at the Triangle. Once he saw them, he set about organizing her first exhibition immediately.

“Right, who’s hungry for Chinese?” he bellowed as he lifted the bags of steaming food up in the air. “This place looks great by the way! You’ve transformed it in the last few hours!”

The whole team settled in to their takeaway and Ella was careful not to drop any food on her dress or smudge her lipstick. When they finished eating, it was almost seven o’clock so Daisy, Guy and Sophie double-checked all the paintings were straight, arranged the glasses for drinks and briefed the waiters who had just arrived. Celia, as manager and Hugh, as owner, stayed with Ella in the office and toasted to the hopeful success of the exhibition. After being given the all-clear from the staff, Celia asked if Ella was ready to open the doors. It was seven thirty and people were already congregating outside.

“Absolutely. Open the doors,” Ella replied cheerily. She topped up her glass of champagne and walked into the gallery to greet people. She felt better now. All of her anxieties had disappeared and were replaced with immense joy.

Steadily the room started to fill with a mixture of friends, family and artists. Her colleagues from the Triangle gallery were the first to arrive, ever eager to support one of their own. Next came her friends; Libby, Charlie, Lara, Harry, Toby, Emily and even Marcus and Jessica were there. Then Mr and Mrs Crosley arrived with some of their older friends who she hoped might be interested in buying some of her pictures. Ella was rushed off her feet. She had to greet all the guests and was being pulled to and fro by Hugh and Celia who were eager to introduce her to as many influential people as possible.

Before she knew it, it was nine thirty already and Ella had to stop to catch her breath. She had spent a solid two hours recycling the same spiel. She stole away to the bathroom, and when she returned, she found Fergus had arrived. He was wearing an aviator jacket lined with thick sheepskin over a plain black t-shirt, a pair of black jeans and tan desert boots. He looked gorgeous and Ella blushed thinking about last night. He walked straight up to her and kissed her on the cheek.

“Ella it looks beautiful. You are so bloody talented!” he shouted in excitement.

“Thank you. Do you really like them?” Ella asked, speaking louder now to be heard over the growing chatter in the room.

“Yes! Incredible!” he said. “I’ve just done a lap and seen all of them. I can’t wait to learn more about them from
you
, the
artist
.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand, drawing closer to him. They stood facing one of her paintings and she explained what it was inspired by, where she had painted it and what it meant to her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her as they stood holding hands, her face glowing with happiness and the lights hanging above her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said to him. “It’s been so busy. I’ve barely seen Libby and the gang. I haven’t even been able to get a drink. Every time a waiter comes near me all his or her glasses are pinched by someone else before me!”

“Well, can I fix that for you. What would you like to drink, champagne?”

“Oh yes please,” she replied thankfully.

Ella turned back to face the painting she and Fergus had been looking at. It was her favourite one and she pondered it silently.

She had been looking at it for a few moments when she heard a gasp from the other end of the room. Through the gaps in the crowd, Ella could see Libby looking bewildered, scarred even. She wondered what was happening, but someone walked in front of her and blocked her view. She stood by the painting and looked to the bar area for Fergus; when he returned they would check everything was okay with her friends. She spotted him talking to the waiter who was manning the temporary bar. It looked like they were discussing her paintings, as they were both gesturing energetically to different corners of the room. Ella forgot about Libby’s pained expression. She felt a small pang of pride as she watched Fergus and the young woman praise her paintings. She turned happily to look at her favourite painting once again, when she felt a hand on her hip and heard a familiar voice.

“Hi Ella,” a well-spoken voice whispered. Ella’s whole body tensed.

She turned around slowly to meet a pair of hazelnut eyes. Robbie’s eyes.

Chapter Eight

Ella froze. She was gripped by surprise as their eyes locked. Shock started seeping in her body as the blood started draining from her face. Ella opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out; she looked like a fish out of water gasping for air. Robbie was smiling nervously and took a step towards her.

Was Robbie really standing there in front of her? Was it really
him
?

Ella had imagined him showing up in front of her just like this countless times. She had searched for his face in every crowd, secretly hoped that he was going to return to London and win her back again. Every face that she had passed in the street bore some sort of resemblance to him. She saw suited Robbies, homeless Robbies, busking Robbies, janitor Robbies, builder Robbies … she had seen every different version of Robbie as she wondered through London like a zombie overwhelmed with heartbreak. For so long any and every stranger had taken on his characteristics until day-by-day she started to see his face less and less and eventually she saw it no more.

Now, the one time in the last year she didn’t want to see him, the one place she didn’t want him to be, she saw him.

Robbie broke the tense silence first and put his hand on her arm.

“I wanted to see you Ella. I’m so sorry, so sorry about everything. We need to talk.” He raised his hand to stroke her cheek and she wanted to slap it away but she was paralysed by his presence, dumbfounded by the face she knew so well. She just stared at him thinking
how has he heard about my exhibition and why is he here?

Finally, she plucked up the strength to speak.

“What are you doing here?” she said in a quiet but threatening hiss.

“Ella please, I know this isn’t the best place but please see me later.”

“How dare you come here!” she replied angrily, stepping back away from him. No longer was she pale and lacking energy. She was flustered and her face was a terrifying shade of red, darkening by the second. She had spoken as loudly as she could without startling the people around her but she wanted nothing more than to scream at him.

“Ella, please. I know I have no right to be here or demand anything from you but you can’t deny that we need to speak. Oh Ella. You look so gorgeous. So very, very Ella. And the exhibition is amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

Fury was bubbling inside of Ella now. He had some nerve coming to her exhibition, telling her how
gorgeous
she looked, how
amazing
her paintings were and how
proud
he was of her. The cheek!

“You’re
proud
of me? Do you have
any
idea of what you’ve put me through?” she said, panting with rage. “I want you to leave
now
.” It was a command not a request. Her face almost matched the colour of her lips.
Lady
Danger
had arrived.

“Ella, just promise me you’ll meet me tomorrow night? There is something I need to tell you — something I need to
ask
you.
S’il vous plaît Ella. Je t’adore
.” There was an urgency in Robbie’s voice that Ella’s heart couldn’t ignore. Despite sounding anguished, his voice still soothed her. This was the voice that had consoled her after her parents had died, the voice that had told her he loved her in five different languages. Suddenly all the sweet nothings Robbie had whispered into her ears over the years came flooding back to her. She tried desperately to hold back her tears. She didn’t understand why he was here and why she was so attracted to him still.

His suit fit his muscular frame so well. His hair had grown longer and was now slicked back a little, curling at the sides of his ears. It suited him and Ella hated that it did. She tried to contain her attraction to him and forced herself to warn him off again.

“I will see you
only
if you leave
right
now
,” Ella said through gritted teeth. She was trying to hold back her emotion, like a frenzied racehorse being held behind its gate before a race. She didn’t want to cause a scene in the middle of her opening night and she didn’t want to know what would happened when the gun went off and the horse was released from its starting gate. She couldn’t let anybody see her breakdown, not here.

“Okay, okay,” Robbie said gently. His face was more tanned than usual and his skin looked so smooth that she wanted to touch it. She also wanted to hit it.

“The paintings really are amazing,” he continued, not leaving. “I’ve bought all the ones you painted while we were together.” Suddenly, outrage filled Ella from top to toe. Her eyes narrowed on him menacingly. She didn’t want him to own
anything
of hers, least of all her paintings! Was he deliberately trying to taunt her? Was he trying to claim part of her after having cast her aside? Her art was her life. Did stealing her heart not satisfy him enough? Did he have to take her art too?

“I cannot believe you would —”

“My favourite is this one,” he said as he pointed to ‘Midnight Water’, the painting hanging on the left of them. “Do you remember where you painted that? We were in the villa in Italy. We were staring out at the sea at midnight and you were painting half naked, wrapped only in the bedspread. You’ve added something —”

“Go.” This was the last time Ella would warn him.

Robbie could see that she truly meant it, that she had not been the least bit impressed at his attempts to resurrect the memories of their past or that he had bought her paintings. That was probably a step too far, he thought. Ella was protective of her art.

Robbie nodded, said, “See you tomorrow”. He backed away slowly.

Ella could see Libby and Charlie trying to clamber through the room of guests towards her. But on seeing which direction Robbie was going in, Charlie changed his course. It looked like he was about to confront Robbie or escort him out. Somebody stepped in front of Ella to get closer to one of her paintings and in doing so blocked her view of Robbie and Charlie.

While Ella had been facing Robbie, Fergus had been walking back to find her. With their drinks in his hand, he had turned to see a tall handsome man brush Ella’s cheek tenderly. Fergus stopped in his tracks as he watched on and saw Ella’s gaze turn from shock to fury. He knew he and Ella had only just started dating but seeing another man that close to Ella made him feel sick. He walked slowly through the busy crowd, dodging between people but never taking his eyes off the mysterious man who was talking to the beautiful woman he was infatuated with. As he got closer to them, he caught the man say the word
Italy
. Fergus struggled to hear him above the Christmassy jazz that was tinkering out of the gallery speakers. He tried to move forwards but there was a large woman, who was more than festively plump, blocking his way. She was moving this way and that, mirroring his movements so he couldn’t get past her.
Naked
. The second word he heard piqued his interest further and he pushed passed the grotesque woman with more force this time.
Leave
. It was Ella’s voice this time and it seemed to have an effect as Fergus saw the sun-kissed man sink away into the hubbub of artists.

Finally, Fergus reached Ella’s side and turned to look at her tomato face. He had never imagined someone so gentle could look so mad and he was almost scared to ask her if she was okay.

“Ella?” Fergus asked mildly. “Is everything okay?”

She was breathing fast, her heart heaving in her chest and she was still staring at the man who was making his way back through the crowd. The man she had loved for so long. She turned to Fergus, the beautiful kind Fergus. She relaxed on seeing him. She took one of the glasses of champagne he had brought over and downed it in one.

“Yes. I’m sorry. Thank you for the drink.” She tried to force a smile but it was no good. She felt as if someone had dropped an anvil on her head and the pressure of seeing Robbie again was squashing her.

“Who was that?” Fergus asked inquisitively.

“It was an old friend. A ghost you might say.” Ella didn’t want to talk about Robbie’s appearance. She certainly didn’t want to explain who he was now to Fergus. She didn’t want to drag her past into the new relationship. She had wanted a new slate. Clearly, that had been too much to ask! She didn’t need to explain who Robbie was because he wasn’t a part of her life anymore.
Was he?

Ella could see Fergus’ confusion and felt she needed to tell him something more.

“He’s a friend from my past that I didn’t expect to see. If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’d like to focus on my exhibition, my work.” As she uttered the words, she remembered bitterly that Robbie had just bought her work.

Fergus could see how upset Ella was and he knew how much this exhibition meant to her, so he tried to distract her.

“Of course. Well, I invited someone, a photographer called Zac Tobin. I’d like you to meet him. Apparently he’s already a fan of your art.” Ella was nodding to the floor. She wiped a single tear from her eye and looked up at Fergus.

She forced Robbie to the back of her mind and smiled bravely deciding she must soldier on. Her guests would be gone by eleven o’clock. She just needed to get through the next few hours and she didn’t want Fergus to read too much in to her reaction to Robbie, if that was at all possible.

“Lovely,” she replied. “I would adore to meet your friend. I can see Libby coming over, let’s take her with us.” Ella beckoned Libby to follow them, aware that her best friend was bursting to ask about Robbie’s appearance and check if she was okay. When she managed to squeeze by a group of people to get to Ella, Libby stood by her side and they communicated solely with their eyes using a language that was reserved only for women. They understood each other perfectly: Libby flashed Ella an
Are you okay? What the fuck was he doing here?
look. Ella widened her eyes and replied with an
I
don’t
fucking
know
,
I’m
so
mad
but
I
need
to
get
through
this
night
,
let’s
talk
about
it
later
look. Fergus introduced them both to Zac and they talked about cubism until Hugh came over. He need to steal Ella away for a minute.

Ella was glad to be out of Fergus’ concerned gaze. She spent the rest of the evening talking to artists and repressing her heartache. Everybody seemed to be having a jolly time, everybody except her. As it approached eleven o’clock, the gallery emptied out. Ella waved goodbye to her colleagues from the Triangle gallery and kissed William and Elisabeth Crosley goodbye, thanking them for bringing along so many friends.

There were only a few people left when Hugh came out with a bottle of Dom Pérignon and proposed a toast to Ella.

“You, Miss Moore, have broken the record for most paintings ever sold on the opening night of an exhibition at the Beat Gallery! Guess how many were bought?”

Everybody muttered numbers excitedly and someone suggested, “Seventeen?”

“Noo … all of them!” Hugh bellowed with joy.

There was a little round of applause as the gallery staff and all her friends congratulated her. She should have been thrilled at this but knowing Robbie had bought so many of them made her feel sick.

“So are we going to go out now and celebrate? Any good bars around here?” Harry asked.

Ella had put on a brave face for hours but she new she couldn’t last much longer.

“I would absolutely love to. And I am so grateful for you all coming and supporting me. You’ve all been incredible and so encouraging and helpful. But I am completely shattered after such a busy week preparing for the exhibition. I’m going to be terribly boring and go home. I think I would collapse in the middle of the dance floor if I came out!” Ella spoke as cheerily as she could.

It seemed that everyone had been convinced by her performance and they all smiled sweetly at her speech. Charlie, Libby and Fergus however were flashing her anxious looks, guessing correctly that the dramatic scene that had unfolded earlier was the real reason she wasn’t going out for celebratory drinks. They could tell that she wasn’t her normal self.

Ella hugged everybody goodbye, collected her belongings from the office and walked to the front door with Fergus. Libby and Charlie followed close behind them, but left enough distance that they could say goodbye in private.

Ella took Fergus’ hand as they entered the cold and snowy night.

“Thank you for coming tonight Fergus. It means a lot that you did. Last night was perfect.”

Fergus kissed Ella on the head and wrapped her scarf around her neck. He told her what a fantastic evening he had had and how sensational her art was. Ella noticed that Fergus’ mesmerising blue eyes looked a little sad.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” she asked.

“I look forward to it. I hope you’re okay Ella.”