Malta Novel - Untitled - Chapter One

Malta Novel - Untitled - Chapter One

For the tenth time in twelve minutes, Elle silently cursed her boyfriend.

Straightening in her budget airline seat, she discreetly attempted to separate her sticky arm from the even more sticky arm of her co-passenger, an overly large woman in her fifties. The air conditioning dial suggested it was on full blast, but Elle was convinced otherwise. She was equally convinced the woman was taking up at least thirty percent of Elle’s own seat, her enormous derriere splurging underneath the joint armrest.

In the aisle seat lounged a human version of a daddy long legs, lower limbs stretching out into the aisle and tripping up the flight staff each time they passed. Seated in front were two females roughly Elle’s age who had boarded the plane in a cloud of alcohol fumes and promptly fell asleep before the plane could even get off the runway. Behind, a harassed mother seated between two screeching toddlers. Elle, already sweaty and uncomfortable in the stuffy airplane air, could feel a headache brewing.

What had possessed Connor to book them separate seats on the flight, she had no idea. If he was here now in place of the large lady, she could have curled up in her window seat with a good book, head resting on his arm. That’s how they always used to travel, back when they were younger, and trips abroad were frequent. How things had changed.

Still. This was a big move, a fresh start. She’d spent enough time dwelling on how they’d both changed over the years, and how the fun date nights had turned into microwave meals in front of the TV. They did say familiarity breeds contempt; Elle had spent the last few years wondering if she still wanted it, this life with Connor. Was she still in love with him? Or did she just love him because he was comfortable? Alessia, her best friend since nursery, had told Elle that her and Connor had grown apart and she should bite the bullet and end things. It happened to the best of couples. Not that Alessia had been the biggest fan of Connor from the start anyway. But after months of frustrating arguments, Elle and Connor had finally sat down and talked things over. Connor decided they should move out of the country, start up a business. It had been one of their shared dreams at university but one of those things they’d never got around to. He had heard Elle fondly speak of childhood holidays in Malta, so it was decided.

Four months later they bought a property and a business in Valletta, Malta’s capital. It wasn’t Elle’s first choice of Maltese locations for their bookstore, but Valletta, with its rich history, Baroque style palaces and breath-taking views of the seaport, was undeniably a tourist magnet and a safe bet for them to begin. Built like a fort, its cobbled streets, quirky balconies and brightly coloured doors had enchanted Elle when she was younger, and she couldn’t wait to sink into the relaxed Maltese way of life.

Elle and Connor poured all their savings into the move, and Connor’s parents had gifted them the rest. Elle was lucky, she knew that. A lot of their university friends were stuck in London paying ungodly amounts of rent. And so, they’d packed up their little rented flat, sent their belongings and a few pieces of furniture ahead on a ship, and said their goodbyes to family and friends.

A repetitive thumping at the seat behind her lower back brought Elle back to the present. At least the child had stopped its wailing. With a defeated sigh, she readjusted again but failed to unglue herself from her neighbour. Her eyes tried to refocus on the small print of her travel-sized edition of Emma, battered but much loved, and one of her favourites of Austin’s. The child behind began its ear-splitting shrieking again. Only three more hours to go she thought miserably.

*****

“I just don’t see why you couldn’t have waited for me when you got off the plane.” Connor was whining as Elle sidestepped around a woman with a pushchair and grabbed her suitcase off the conveyor belt. The baggage claim area was rammed with a mix of cultures from all over the world, with everyone vying for a prime position to grab their bags and get out.

“Stop being a baby. It’s only a short bus trip from the plane to the main building! They told me I couldn’t wait.” Under the airport’s air conditioning, Elle had finally returned to a more comfortable body temperature.

Spotting Connor’s blue bag passing, Elle swung it off. It was heavier than she anticipated and with some satisfaction she noted the grunt as the bag collided with Connor’s legs.

He’d been unusually quiet as they’d worked their way through passport security. Perhaps he’d been bottling up his annoyance. It seemed a very Connor thing to do.

“Come on, let’s go find our taxi.” Elle herded him and their luggage out of the airport. As the automatic doors opened, she was hit by that heady European heat that always felt so different to hot summer days back in the UK, not stifling and oppressive, but like a warm cloud cloaked with a promise of new adventures.

“Elle, this isn’t going to work.” Connor stopped so abruptly in front of the taxi that Elle almost walked into the back of him.
“What do you mean?” She frowned, letting her heavy backpack slide off her arm and rubbing her sore right shoulder. She squinted in the bright sunlight, trying to look around Connor at the taxi. Did he think it was too small for all their bags?

“This. Us.”

Elle froze. Time stopped, the bustle of taxis and travelers and cars and luggage fading away, replaced by a ringing in her ears. She could suddenly hear her own breathing, loud and panicking. She stared unblinking at Connor as he turned in slow motion to face her. Stared at his lips, now set in a thin line, that must have formed those words. Her eyes finally looked up to meet his, cool and determined, confirming she’d heard correctly.

“Oh.” It came out as a shaky exhale.

“We haven’t been working for a long time. We were such a team back when we first got together.” He explained in monotone, like he’d practiced over and over in his head. “I thought coming here would recapture that but it’s not going to.”

“Why are you doing this now? Why not before we bought a house and a business?!” Elle’s heart thudded. People leaving the airport had started to slow down, listening in to the domestic that was unfolding.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. She wanted to thump him.

“Right. And what do you propose we do now?” Her temper rising, weirdly she didn’t feel upset, just angry. She shifted uneasily under the weight of brazen onlooker stares.

“You’re worried about me making a scene?” Connor caught her looking about. “I just ended our nine-year relationship, and you’re worried about me making a bloody scene?!” He blustered red-faced.

“Well, what do you want me to say?!”

“Connor, I love you? Connor, I don’t want to break up with you? Shouldn’t you be fighting for me?!”

The taxi driver's grin was frozen in place, his hand still clutching the ‘Welcome Connor Robson and Eleanor Hinchley’ sign. He wondered vaguely if he should slip back into the taxi and let them sort out their own bags.

“Well, it seems like you made up your mind. I’m not going to beg you to change it.” Elle snapped.

“Fine.” Connor turned and all but threw his bags at the stricken taxi driver.

“Fine!” Elle yelled at him.

Connor opened the back door and began to climb into the taxi. “I’ll get our family solicitor to transfer you back your savings. Should hit your bank account in a couple of days.”

Shit. “You’re taking the house? And the business?” Elle stuttered.

“Well of course!” He scoffed. “Most of it is my parent’s money.”

“I know, but how are you going to run a business without me? You don’t know the first thing!”

“I’ll hire someone. I’ll be fine. I’d be more concerned about yourself to be honest.” It wasn’t exactly what Elle had meant by her last comment.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” She muttered in disbelief.

“I can’t either really.” And with that, Connor slammed the door shut and the taxi pulled away, leaving a stunned Elle staring after it.

*****

Four hours later and the gravity of the situation had hit Elle like a brick. She was sitting on a corner table in a little café in Marsaxlokk, right next to the window where she could soak up the late afternoon rays of sunlight. Abstract paintings hung on the warm orange walls, with shelves covered in worn paperbacks and leafy plants strategically placed between tables to offer some privacy to patrons. The café was busy for the time of day, with the waitresses rushing around with trays laden with mugs and cakes and pastries, and the bell above the door jingling happily away to indicate new arrivals.
Spread on the table in front of Elle were all the euros she had. 52 Euros and 73 cents. Stray bits of change that she’d gathered from purses and drawers from long-gone European holidays, abandoned and forgotten for years until Elle had come to pack up her belongings for the big move. Fortunately, she already had a bank account set up, although it only held the money from her last payslip. It wasn’t going to stretch very far. She clutched subconsciously at the plastic card, then scribbled into the notepad in front of her.

Money
Cash: EUR 52.73, GBP 25.42
Card: Not much more

She clicked her pen. On. Off. On. Off. Then threw it onto the table.

With a sigh, Elle took a sip of her steaming hot chocolate, the third drink she had ordered that afternoon. She absolutely could not face going home. It just wasn’t an option to return to the UK Connor-less and move back in with her parents. It wasn’t so much that they loved Connor, but the thought of being twenty-eight and moving home… not to mention the pity stares and invites she’d get from their university friends, all coupled up and engaged with babies on the way. And what would she do for work? After spending seven years in a corporate London job, she didn’t want to go back to a 9-5. In all honesty, she had fallen in love with the idea of running a bookshop. Being her own boss, working the hours she chose, sharing her love of literature with interested customers.

No, she would have to stay in Malta. Look for a job here. It was supposed to be a fresh start with Connor, so why couldn’t it be a fresh start for Elle herself? She already loved the country, the people, and the landscape. She’d visited quite a few times growing up – Alessia’s grandparents were Maltese and Elle had been fortunate enough to be invited along with the family during the long school summer holidays. She could definitely make this work. Or at least give it a damn good go. Most of all, she couldn’t let Connor think she’d crumbled when he walked away.

Priorities
- Find job/income
- Find somewhere to stay

Despite the break-up and the loss of a house and income, she felt remarkably calm. Like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, though she snorted to herself at the cliche. If she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t realised quite how low being with Connor had made her, and now, facing a future without him, she felt free. Perhaps Alessia had been right after all. That, or she was delirious with the shock of it all.

Thinking of Alessia, tears welled in Elle’s eyes. Alessia always knew what to say no matter the situation. But in true Alessia whirl-wind fashion, she’d taken herself off on a six-week jungle trek around the Amazon rainforest. Completely off grid. Before she’d left, she’d told Elle the only way to reach her would be via email, when she reached civilisation. Alessia had exclaimed she wanted to be at one with nature and was leaving technology behind in the UK. Elle rolled her eyes thinking of the moment.

This meant for the first time in years, Elle was well and truly alone. It was terrifying but equally liberating. She’d spent so many years as Connor’s other half, she was excited to see how independent she could be. If you could just forget about the new country, no home, no job part, that is.

Unwanted tears again sprang to her eyes. With a sniff she took another sip of her drink and a large bite of her ricotta pastizzi. It was too much information to digest in one day. Part of her needed to grieve the loss of her relationship with Connor. Although deep down she knew it was the right thing, it didn’t mean closing the door on nine years of her life was going to be easy. Nine years of growing up together, graduating university, moving to London for their jobs, living together, travelling together, building so many happy memories together. Now that it was over, all of the bad moments were beginning to fade, like fuzzy images slightly out of reach. It was the good times that stayed, vivid and bittersweet.

Great, now she was crying alone in a café. Not exactly how she imagined her first day in Malta to play out.

A sudden quiet pulled Elle back to reality. The bustle of the café had paused, even the steaming coffee machines had grown silent, with patrons all turning to look as the bell above the door chimed once more.

Through the doorway stepped an impeccably dressed man in khaki shorts and a crisp white shirt. The café buzzed with a new energy, startling Elle. His brown hair, lightened slightly by the Maltese sun, was cropped short, his toned arms and legs tanned. Underneath the expensive shades, Elle knew the moss green eyes would be scanning the room.

Oh fuck. Please don’t look this way. Please don’t look this way. Elle tried her best to shrink into nothing as the bronzed figure paused in the doorway, as if to soak up the admiration from the onlookers.

She picked up the large plastic menu and discretely shuffled across the leafy table plant to give herself more cover, wiping away the remains of her tears.

Animated whispers spread around the room as the newcomer greeted the waitress behind the counter, who let out a slightly hysterical squeak.

Heat rose to her cheeks as footsteps approached her corner table, and she closed her eyes in defeat at the amused low rumble of "Well fancy seeing you here Smelly Ellie!"

Malta Novel - Untitled - Chapter Two  (13+) Zach - childhood arch nemesis turned world famous movie star #2335502 by Lady H