A Place Called Home. Eleanor Jones

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      WHEN THE GARAGE called the next day to tell her that her car was ready to collect, Ellie didn’t bother Matt, and took a bus to Tarnside instead. On the way home, she stopped in at Cravendale to check on the fox cub. Paula welcomed her, exclaiming over the little creature’s recovery and promising to let Ellie know when she was about to let it go.

      “It’s so rewarding,” Paula said with a radiant smile. “When they run free again...you should come and watch.”

      Ellie pulled out her camera and took a few shots of the cub before she left, feeling a niggle of inspiration. Suddenly she knew what she wanted to paint next...her own interpretation of freedom.

      For the next couple of days, she threw herself into her painting, embracing the focus she always had when she started a new project. It was only in the dead of night, when sleep proved elusive, that thoughts of Matt, Andy, her dad and the longing for times gone by came back to mess with her head.

      * * *

      AT THE END of her second day of painting, Ellie stood back to take in her work so far. Surprised to see that the light was fading she glanced at her watch. Could it really be eight already? She put down her brush and stretched out her arms, her body aching. The face of the rescued fox stared back at her, its yellow eyes filled with fear and ferocity. The rest of the painting faded out into a blur of color, drawing the observer’s eye to what really mattered; the raw emotion of the piece, and the clear but distant glimpse of the freedom the wild creature craved. Smiling to herself, Ellie stood, contemplating her afternoon’s work with a critical eye. She’d done enough, she decided. She didn’t want to overwork it and she liked its slightly unfinished look.

      With another quick glance at the painting she headed for the kitchen, her mind going back to the little fox and its plight. That morning, Paula had called to tell her that tomorrow was the day. She was so looking forward to watching its release. It would be like going full circle.

      She hadn’t heard from Matt, and she hadn’t gotten in touch with him, either. Was she being selfish? Should she have changed her plans as he wanted her to? She flicked the switch on the kettle and waited for the water to boil. To be fair, Matt was right that her dad had called to dissuade her from coming the last time she tried to visit him. It felt right this time, though, and she didn’t care what her dad said. Anyway, it didn’t sound as if Matt’s client was worth pursuing, so perhaps she’d done him a favor.

      Picking up her phone, she dialed his number, listening to his deep tones on the voice mail. “Hi...just me,” she said,

      He called her back ten minutes later and they arranged to meet for a drink at the bar where they first met, Applejacks, but conversation was stilted, like two strangers on a first date.

      He talked about his latest deal and she told him she’d started a new painting, but she sensed a shift in their relationship, a holding back that wasn’t all her fault. And it couldn’t just be because of their disagreement about her trip—Matt’s client had dropped the deal. Fortunately, though, he already had someone else interested. Someone who hopefully didn’t need any input from her.

      At the end of the evening, she announced that she would get a cab back to her apartment, and he didn’t protest. On the shiny, rain-washed pavement, he held her close in a hard, impersonal embrace, touching her lips briefly with his.

      “Perhaps it’s good that you’re going home for a visit,” he said. “I think we both need a break.”

      Ellie felt a surge of panic, her safe little world rocking on its axis. “What...you mean split up?”

      He shook his head. “Yes, I guess, but not forever, or at least not necessarily, but we both need to think about where this is going...because it feels to me as if we’re going in different directions.”

      “I feel that, too,” she admitted, knowing it was true.

      * * *

      THE NEXT MORNING dawned bright and clear. Ellie lay in her bed watching the sun rise above the tall houses across the street, experiencing a burst of longing for the wild hills of home. She recalled her brief conversation with Matt last night, but her sadness was fleeting. Was this the final blow to the safe haven she had secured for herself? It felt scary and strange, yet she knew he was right; they did seem to be pulling in different directions.

      She turned her attention back to the present, pushing all thoughts of Matt out of her head. Today, she was going to watch the fox cub run free and she couldn’t wait. Had she done its expression justice in her painting, or would she have to repaint the whole thing? She should have waited to start on it until after she’d seen its release for herself, but inspiration didn’t come to order. With one last satisfied glance at her handiwork, she reached for her car keys.

      * * *

      ELLIE FELT A song in her heart as she reached Cravendale, spotting Paula waiting impatiently in the yard. Paula urged her eagerly toward the fox’s enclosure.

      “I didn’t want to start without you,” she said excitedly as they entered the low stone building. “We’re all ready to go, but we waited to catch the cub and put it into a travelling cage because we thought you’d like to see the whole thing.”

       We?

      “That must be difficult to do.”

      Paula smiled. “Fortunately, we’ve got expert help.”

      “I thought you were the expert.” The deep, familiar voice that came from the shadows made Ellie’s pulse speed up. She stopped, her hand raised to the base of her throat.

      “I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Her voice sounded strange in her ears, clipped and harsh, belying her breathlessness.

      Andy laughed, stepping into view, his warm brown eyes full of merriment and holding hers with a quizzical expression. “Don’t sound too pleased.”

      She blushed, glad of the semidarkness. “I am. I mean...I don’t really care either way.”

      “Come on, then, Andy,” Paula pressed him. “The poor little thing is terrified.”

      Andy deftly caught the fox, his hands firm but gentle as he lifted it into the small cage. Then they all loaded into Andy’s 4X4 and set off.

      Ellie sat in the back, listening to Andy and Paula chatter about the animals at Cravendale. His dark blond hair, as unruly as ever, shone in the morning sunshine. One broad, tanned hand was firm on the wheel and the other rested on the back of Paula’s seat, right in front of Ellie. Resisting the temptation to reach out and place her hand over his, as she used to do so naturally, Ellie peered out the window.

      “This is it,” she cried, glad to be finally doing something positive that might take her mind away from the past and how things used to be. “This is where he got hit.”

      “I was there, remember?” Andy smiled, glancing back at her.

      “I know this place,” Paula said. “There’s a den in the copse over there. We’ll set him free under the cover of the trees.”

      * * *

      THEY SET THE cage down under a bush and waited a while to let the cub absorb its surroundings. The three of them СКАЧАТЬ