Jilted by Rachael Johns Read Free Book Online Page B

willpower to drag herself out. She never wanted to go there again. Besides, she was in Hope for Matilda, not to revisit past demons.
    ‘Come on,’ she said, urging her wobbly fingers to steady and coordinate. She’d done them up with only relative difficulty; surely the undoing would be easy in comparison. More twisting, more tugging, but it seemed the only thing likely to come undone was her arm socket.
    ‘Argh!’ What was meant to be a silent plea between gritted teeth came out loud and angry. She took a deep breath, concentrated, but as the first pearl slipped from its silken prison, there came a hesitant knock on the bedroom door. Ellie froze.
    ‘Yes?’ She managed only just to get the word past the lump in her throat.
    ‘Can I help you?’ came the response. Ellie frowned at Matilda’s turn of phrase, hoping her godmother hadn’t looked in on her while she’d slept and seen her outfit. The thought chilled her.
    ‘No,’ she said, a lot harsher than she intended. ‘I’m here to help you. What the hell do you think you’re doing wandering around without me? Don’t do anything else. I’ll be out in just a moment.’
    She focused her attention back on the dress but the damn buttons refused to budge. Generally calm in the face of a problem, Ellie’s pulse raced and the muscles in her neck twitched. Stupidtears prickled at the corners of her eyes. As she saw it, she had two choices. Open the door and, despite the shame and embarrassment she’d feel, ask for help, or …
    She took another deep breath, positioned her hands at the back of her neck, one on either side of the dress, and yanked. Hard. Tiny pops rippled as the pearls shot around the room. Ellie shimmied out of the dress, scrunched it into a ball and shoved it on top of a stack of old Cosmo magazines at the bottom of the wardrobe. It felt wrong to treat something that had once been so special to her with such disregard, and for a second she hesitated, thought about pulling it out and trying to fix the creases she’d just inflicted. But Matilda’s voice sounded through the door again, more anxious than before.
    ‘Ellie? What was that? Are you sure you’re okay in there?’
    She bit down on her lip, turned and lifted the lid on her suitcase. There wasn’t time to get sentimental. ‘I’m fine,’ she managed, scrambling around for jeans and a top.
    When she finally opened the door and saw the look of worry in the other woman’s eyes, she knew that she hadn’t been able to hide the truth from Matilda.
    ‘You want to talk about it?’
    ‘Nope.’ Ellie reached out to take Matilda’s arm. ‘I want to get some caffeine into my veins, get you settled on the verandah swing and get stuck into those awnings you left half done.’
    Matilda shuffled alongside Ellie into the kitchen. ‘Don’t think you can change the subject on me, missy. I’ve let it lie for ten years but it’s time. I can see coming back here, to me, to this town, to your room …’ Matilda paused and looked deep into Ellie’s eyes. Ellie knew she was thinking about the dress. ‘It’s messing with your mind. Therapy is expensive but talking to an old friend is priceless.’
    Ellie went to the bench, opened a cupboard and grabbed two large ceramic mugs. Perhaps Mat was right. Perhaps she shouldtalk about why she’d done the unforgivable, why she’d left Flynn standing at the front of a church with the whole town as witness. But Matilda was the only person who’d been there who still believed in her, who could still look her in the eye and not make her feel like the scum of the earth. Hell, she could barely look in the mirror and achieve that feat herself.
    No, she wasn’t ready to talk, not yet. She turned to the fridge to focus her energies on breakfast and then remembered. No milk. Dammit, she just didn’t do black coffee, especially not at the crack of dawn. But another thought followed quickly on the heels of that one. As much as the idea of leaving the house