Jilted by Rachael Johns Page B

officer.
    While the two of them discussed protocol and common sense, and the service station owner added his opinion, Ellie flexed her feet and pushed herself up into a stand. Although still shaky, she had every confidence her legs were back in the game. Monitoring her breathing, she trekked slowly around the shop, grabbing chocolates, a big bottle of Fanta, packets of chips, two types of milk and a loaf of white bread. The pickings were slim at the Shell and the prices exorbitant, but she needed to get out of there quickly, with enough provisions to avoid coming back too soon. Tomorrow she’d worry about a bigger shop, although how she’d make it round the Co-op without having an actual heart attack, she had no idea.
    ‘You sure you shouldn’t get properly checked out?’ asked the shop assistant as she scanned Ellie’s purchases through the till. The young woman looked genuinely concerned. Ellie didn’t recognise her and judging by her attitude, she deduced that the girl couldn’t have been a resident of Hope very long.
    ‘Thanks for your concern, but I just had a shock.’
    The girl looked at her quizzically but she wasn’t about to start discussing her sordid past with a stranger. No doubt the town gossips would fight to fill her in. Instead, Ellie handed over a fifty-dollar note.
    The act of selecting and purchasing items seemed to convincethe ambulance folk she was, in fact, physically fine. So, wanting to get this whole sorry episode over quickly, Ellie filled in her details and signed the release.
    When Ellie returned to the house, Matilda – sitting in an armchair in the living room – threw her arms up theatrically. ‘You’ve been gone an age. I was about to organise a search party.’
    ‘Sorry.’ She walked through to the kitchen and began unloading the sparse supplies. Inwardly she laughed at the idea that anyone in this godforsaken town would give up their Sunday to search for her.
    ‘I almost called the police,’ Matilda continued, her shrill voice carrying down the short hallway.
    ‘Thank God you didn’t,’ Ellie called back. ‘I’ve had my fill of emergency services today.’
    ‘You’ve what?’ There was a short silence and then a shuffle. Ellie could hear Matilda reaching for her crutches and knew she was trying to stand up.
    ‘Stay there!’ she roared. ‘I’ll get us a drink and makeshift breakfast, and then I’ll fill you in.’ On everything , she added silently. It was time.
    She took her time making the coffee and cooking the toast. She even cut each slice into little triangles, laid them decoratively on the plate and loaded it all onto an elaborate tray Mat had brought back from Mexico a few years ago. When she finally entered the living room, Matilda was leaning forward in the chair, her body tense, the expression on her face desperately curious.
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘I ran into Flynn.’ Ellie’s tone suggested this was an everyday occurrence. She handed Mat her mug, then placed the toast on the little coffee table, positioning it within both their reach.
    ‘Oh.’ For once Matilda seemed short of words. Then, eventually, ‘Dare I ask?’
    Ellie flopped into the armchair opposite. ‘It was a complete debacle. He looked like he wanted to vomit at the sight of me and I almost fainted.’ She laughed a little hysterically. ‘Someone called an ambulance.’
    ‘You’ve been to the hospital?’
    She shook her head. ‘I refused to go.’
    Matilda waved an arm in front of her face. ‘Who cares about the hospital, I want to know about Flynn.’
    Ellie tried in vain to keep her hands and voice steady as she sipped her drink and filled Mat in on the events of the morning. Yet with every mention of Flynn the effort became all the more impossible.
    ‘My poor girl,’ Matilda said, gesturing to the tissue box on the table. ‘You’ve held it in far too long. It’s time to let it out.’
    ‘I’m fine.’ Ellie shoved the box and it plopped onto the floor. That got a