Starting Over

Chapter 11

Ellen sat, the busy airport passing her by, and weighed up the options. What did she really have to go home to? The aftermath of the wedding? She’d returned all the gifts, at least now she had enough money to pay her credit card bill, so that was all dealt with. Her family? Well they’d hardly been supportive, and she’d spent so long doing what they wanted, trying to please them. She’d lost Rebecca too, and her job. She’d frowned at Jan’s frivolity, living here, away from the real world, no career, no direction, but now it appealed to her. She could stay at the apartment; she’d pay rent though, then look for a job? There were lots of resorts on the island; surely a bar somewhere needed a worker? So I’ll stay? She wondered, and then knew it was the only option.

So she took her bags and walked back out into the Majorcan sun. The weight lifted from her shoulders, she suddenly felt happy, calm and even optimistic. Grabbing a cab she reeled off the address to Jan’s apartment. Jan. She had to decide what to do about him, she really liked him, but the lawyer thing....it bugged her, and she needed to work that out in her head. He wasn’t pushing her though, he was giving her opportunity. She already knew that this was typical of Jan; he was so unselfish in his ways. He was more angry than her about Richard’s behaviour, and his actions did have motivations, but if it was to manipulate her into staying for his own means, he’d be here now making himself part of the conditions wouldn’t he? But instead he was offering up this apartment, losing his own refuge so that she could have one of her own.

“Shit!” she exclaimed loudly as she closed the apartment door behind her. “What the hell have I done?”

Ellen didn’t have his phone number, they’d never needed to call, and due to the animosity of their spilt they’d not exchanged addresses or anything then. So she called the hotel, glad that the number was on her checking out receipt.

“Is it possible to leave a message for Jan...” she suddenly froze, she didn’t know his surname! How self-centred did that sound? So she verbally stumbled, “...from the Animacion team please?”

“Ah Jan Zeigler! Yes I can take message.”

Zeigler? How had that never cropped up in conversation? “Thanks. Could you just tell him that Ellen thanks him for the accommodation?”

“Ok!” the receptionist’s voice was bright and cheery as she hung up on Ellen.

It was a Sunday, and for the first time in as long as she could remember she had no agenda. No work, no family commitments, nothing, and it felt liberating. The first thing she did was change into clothing suitable for the sun, plaster on the sunscreen then go investigating. She really needed to find an internet cafe, once she’d cleared her credit card and sorted out her finances she’d know how desperately she’d need to find work. She also needed groceries, she had to eat. With a smile on her face and a spring in her step she headed out into the sunshine.

Three hours later Ellen was opening the apartment door with bags full of goodies. She’d emailed her father, told him she was staying on, that she’d contact him with an address once she knew what she was doing, internet banked, then searched for local jobs. She’d lined up three bar/waitress interviews for the following day, had enough food to last a few days. It was what she termed a very productive afternoon!

Sighing in pleasure, contentment, she made for the open plan kitchen and opened a bottle of red wine, pouring a good glug into a glass. There was food for all occasions, but suddenly she wanted to explain her actions to Jan. She’d thought he’d turn up this afternoon, be waiting for her, and whilst she missed him more than anything, she also respected him more for being true to his word.

Ellen slept in one of the spare rooms that night, the Master bedroom was a Ziegler family zone, and she didn’t need more signs of Jan as she tried to sleep. The next morning she was eating toast and supping her coffee, wondering what to do that day when there was a knock at the door.