Winner Takes All

Everyone in the office was shocked. Who could have done this?

ELLEN stared around the room, which was unusually crowded. Barbara’s friend, Mary-beth, and all the regular quilters were there, and a few she hadn’t met before.

There were piles of fabric on every table – a rainbow of colours, scraps that might be suitable for the group’s next project.

Women were picking out squares of material, consulting one another and considering. There was a happy hum of activity.

Ellen looked across the room, where Pattie was standing with the finished Double Wedding Ring Quilt. A photographer was taking pictures, and a reporter from the local paper was talking to Barbara.

Pattie was a born politician’s wife, Ellen thought, still smiling. She’d come to the quilting group this evening to thank the women for donating a quilt to be auctioned at the fund-raising dinner, and had made a charming speech about American values.

Pattie certainly was looking pretty, Ellen realised. Even radiant.

She appeared a lot less strained than she had done at the Independence Day barbecue a few weeks ago. Her face was less drawn and she wasn’t as gaunt. She looked altogether happier.

It had been a difficult few weeks for everyone, but particularly Pattie – not least keeping the information from her mother that Steve was receiving anonymous death threats. But none had arrived since

the fourth of July, so perhaps the sender had lost interest.

Shielding Barbara from the news that her son-in-law was in danger brought Tyler and Ellen a little closer. There were whispered conversations when Barbara was out of the room.

Sharing such a worrying secret had forged a bond.

It was better than the frostiness Tyler still displayed whenever his mother urged him to socialise with Ellen, she thought. Perhaps he didn’t want to give his mother ideas. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

“. . . should help, shouldn’t it?” Mary-beth was looking at Ellen. “Oh, er, yes, absolutely!” Mary-beth laughed. “You have no idea what I just said, honey, do you? Dreaming of home?”

“Actually, I can’t remember when I last thought of home,” Ellen said, surprised. “You’ve done a good job of brainwashing me into American ways.”

It was true. She felt really at home here.

“Barbara says the same!” Who’d have thought, when you first arrived, that in two months you’d be talking – knowledgeably, Barbara said – about what a handmade quilt might raise for the campaign fund?”

“Not knowledgeably,” Ellen protested. “I have no idea what people might pay for the Double Wedding Ring. I only know what I think they ought to pay, considering all the work that’s gone into it!

“Anything will be welcome. Even with all the tickets we’ve sold, there’s still a long way to go before we reach Cindy’s fundraising target. And, as she keeps reminding me, I’m the one responsible for raising the money!”

“Well, Cindy always has big ideas,” Mary-beth whispered. “Don’t let it bother you. The quilt should do well,” she added more seriously. “Hand-made quilts go for thousands, you know. No-one makes them any more.”

“Thousands?”

“Yep. I’m not kidding, honey. It’ll make more than you think, you’ll see. Oh, just look at who’s just arrived.” She sounded displeased. “That woman at a quilting group! I doubt she’s picked up needle and thread in her entire life.”

Cindy crossed the room, making straight for Pattie.

“Pattie, there you are!” Her smile was wide, aimed mostly at the photographer.

“Steve told me you were here to thank these ladies for their quaint little quilt! Every little bit counts,” she added loudly. “Nothing’s too small. Every nickel and dime matters!”

Apparently unaware of the incensed women around her, she lowered her voice.

“You should have told me you were coming tonight, sweetie. We could have sorted out a few key phrases, you know?”

Ellen saw Pattie stiffen, and Mary-beth got a fit of the giggles.

“She is really something,” she spluttered. “Nothing’s too small, indeed! Make sure that there’s a lower limit on the quilt when it’s auctioned, will you, Ellen? Say, two and a half thousand dollars. We don’t want Miss Ward selling it off for nickels and dimes!”

A moment later Cindy was making a beeline for Ellen.

“I’ll get that reporter more coffee.” Mary-beth left as Cindy reached them.

“Ellen, my computer’s still messing me around,” Cindy said without even a hello. “Bring your laptop in to work tomorrow, OK? I’m going to be needing it.”

“Don’t you have one of your own you can bring in?” Ellen began, seething, but Cindy was already halfway to the door.

“Take yourself in hand,” she told herself. “If letting Cindy borrow your laptop means she behaves better towards you, it’s not worth making a fuss. Before you know it the election will be over, and you’ll be home.”

Home! Had she really been here for two months already? Tyler would be going back to college at the end of September.

Not that that was important, she reminded herself. But her shoulders slumped nonetheless.

She’d got used to Tyler being around.

Wouldn’t it be nice, Barbara thought as she set chocolate to melt over a pan of hot water, if one’s grown-up kids behaved more like adults and less like teenagers?

Ellen and Tyler were at the breakfast table ignoring one another, though they whispered together often enough at other times.

Tyler was thirty-two, for heaven’s sake! If he didn’t make a move soon, Ellen would be in England and he’d be in Maine, moping.

Surely Ellen must see he was crazy about her? Why on earth didn’t he ask her out on a proper date?

Right now he looked like he was sulking. He kept shooting furtive glances at the postcard he’d brought Ellen from the mailbox a few moments ago.

Ellen had read it and then placed it by her plate. Barbara suspected he’d read it already, though.

“Who’s it from?” Tyler asked as nonchalantly as he could.

Ellen looked up. “Who’s what from?” “Your card. I saw it was from England.” “No-one important.” “I thought you’d finished with that guy you were going out with in England?” His tone was accusatory. “Edward? Why would you think it was from him?” Ellen asked, carrying her dishes to the dishwasher. She turned to Barbara. “What are you making?” “Some brownies. MaryBeth’s calling in a bit later with some fabrics she promised me. I’ll make sure there are some left over for when you get back, honey!”

Barbara paused, then spoke carefully.

“And some for you to take back to Maine, Tyler. Are you leaving Thursday?”

She watched Ellen’s face.

“Wednesday,” Tyler replied, still concentrating on his own mail. Ellen’s face fell.

“This Wednesday?” Her voice was higher than usual.

So she did care, Barbara thought, turning her back and stirring the melting chocolate as the conversation carried on behind her back.

“I hadn’t realised you’d be going back so soon.”

“When did you think I’d be going?” Tyler asked. “It’s the first of September in just a few days – the start of the college year.”

It was clear to Tyler’s mother that he was crazy about Ellen

“I hadn’t thought at all,” Ellen said airily. Barbara smiled to herself. I think we both know that isn’t quite true, she thought. It would really help if you could make that a bit clearer to Tyler!

Ellen was still talking. “English universities start at the beginning of October. For the students, at least. But you’ll have lectures to prepare and so forth.”

Tyler grunted, and Barbara’s heart sank. Why wouldn’t he talk to the girl?

“Look at the time,” Ellen was saying. “I should have left!”

“I’ll give you a ride,” Tyler said grudgingly, and they both went upstairs to get their things.

Barbara slumped slightly. There was nothing she could do, but honestly, were they both blind?

It was weeks since Tyler had suggested to his mother that the quilting group might donate a quilt for the auction. He knew this was a big request, even if Cindy Ward didn’t. He would never have thought of it except to help Ellen.

It hadn’t escaped Barbara’s notice that everything he was doing at party headquarters involved helping Ellen to achieve the ridiculous targets Cindy had set her. If anyone else needed help he was usually too busy. But for Ellen he always seemed to find time.

Surely she’d noticed? Ellen and Tyler clattered down the stairs, called goodbye and were gone, the sports car that Tyler had been tearing around in only a few months ago moving down the road at an unusually (for him at least) leisurely pace.

Barbara wondered if he even realised the effect Ellen was having on him. He’d be buying a stationwagon next!

Barbara smoothed the brownie batter into the pan and put it in the oven, turning on the timer and putting the bowls and measuring cups and spoons into the dishwasher before heading up the stairs.

But before she’d got even halfway the doorbell rang. It was too early for MaryBeth, and the mailman had already been. Perhaps one of the kids had forgotten something?

But no, it was MaryBeth’s car in the drive. The bell rang again, more urgently. Barbara hurried back down and opened the door.

“Have you seen this?” Mary-beth was flapping a torn poster at Barbara, her face pink and her hair dishevelled. “Have you seen what they’ve done?”

She looked as though she might burst into tears.

Barbara ushered MaryBeth inside and took the poster from her friend. Her mouth slowly opened, but she couldn’t speak. She was staring at a photo of her son-in-law, Steve, kissing Ellen in front of a sleazy-looking motel.

A strap-line was slashed across the picture. Can You Trust This Man? His Wife Can’t!

Barbara walked, dazed, into the kitchen. She was shaking her head silently as she poured out two cups of coffee from the still-hot pot.

Her eyes kept swivelling towards the poster, now sitting on the kitchen counter, and two red spots had appeared in her cheeks.

“How could they?” she asked, her voice shaking with fury.

“You think Steve and Ellen . . .?” Mary-beth began, but Barbara broke in roughly.

“Of course not, MaryBeth! Steve would never, ever do that to Pattie. He adores her.”

Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Pattie! Has she seen it, I wonder? When did this appear, Mary-beth? Thank the Lord you saw it and tore it down.”

“Barbara,” her friend interrupted. “It’s not the only one. These horrible pictures are on every street light, every tree, in every window of every store. They’ve even been stuck to people’s mailboxes.

“They’re everywhere, Barbara – there are hundreds of them!”

Tyler looked around at the shocked faces in the campaign headquarters. The volunteer college students were concentrating studiously on their computer screens and avoiding looking at Pattie, Steve or Ellen, though they exchanged furtive looks between themselves.

The tables were strewn with posters, most of them ripped, but all of them only too recognisable. They looked sleazy next to the campaign posters which still plastered the walls. Vote Steve X Leveque

Steve’s smiling face inspired such trust. He looked so wholesome. Yet here were these ghastly images of Ellen being kissed by him.

Cindy Ward was standing, her lips pursed, fingering the poster nearest to her.

Steve had his arm round Pattie, who was visibly shaking.

Tyler went over to his sister and patted her arm awkwardly.

His mind was still on Ellen. They hadn’t driven far from the house that morning when she’d suddenly shouted for him to stop.

“Come on,” he’d replied. “You can’t call this fast. I’m only doing twenty! How slow do you want me –”

“It’s not that!” She’d gone white.

As soon as he stopped the car, still trying to work out what was upsetting her, she tore the door open and ran to where a sheet of paper was roughly tacked to a neighbour’s fence.

She ripped it off and started back towards him. He’d been about to tell her you couldn’t just rip notices off other people’s property when he’d caught sight of the photo.

They had stopped seven more times on the brief journey, but he’d got out to remove the posters those times. Ellen had been sobbing in the car, unable to articulate her distress.

His heart had lurched desperately, but what could he say?

Now, she was standing a little apart from everyone else in the campaign office. Tyler was glad to see that she was no longer in tears, but she looked very vulnerable standing there alone.

He longed to go over and put his arms around her, but at that moment the door opened and his mother, followed by MaryBeth, came in.

“I need hardly say that this is extremely damaging to the campaign,” Cindy said loudly, suddenly business-like. She glared at Ellen. “It’s not something we’re going to be able to sweep under the carpet.”

She went to continue, but Tyler interrupted.

“You’re not implying, I hope, that these are real pictures?”

Cindy shrugged.

“I don’t see what else you’d call them.”

“What else? Well, I’d call them badly photo-shopped images used to sabotage Steve’s chances, that’s what I’d call them, Cindy!” Tyler practically shouted. “You just have to look at them. Someone’s taken a picture of Steve and Ellen and put this crude photo of a motel behind them.”

The volunteers had got up from their desks and were examining the posters more closely now, as were Pattie, Barbara, Mary-beth and Cindy. Murmuring broke out.

“Yeah, you can see that outline’s sort of jagged, where it’s been edited.”

“Hey, look, the tree by the motel’s got no leaves, like it was taken in the fall, or winter. Ellen wasn’t even in the country then.”

“It’s pretty amateurish, look, and what’s that mark on Steve’s shirt? Is it supposed to be lipstick?”

Cindy’s voice cut through the rest.

“If you ask me – and I’m just saying, because this is what other folks will say, too – whatever else could be photo-shopped, that looks pretty much like a real kiss to me.”

She folded her arms with finality and what Tyler thought looked a bit too much like satisfaction.

“It is a kiss,” Ellen said loudly, and all eyes turned to her.

“Well, you’ve said it,” Cindy said. “So maybe you ought to pack your bags while we try to clear up this mess. I’ve seen this coming for a long time, and I’ve tried to warn people, but –”

Tyler opened his mouth to refute the woman’s ridiculous accusations, but Ellen spoke again.

“Of course it’s a kiss,” Ellen repeated with some asperity. “At least, it’s a peck on the cheek. Steve kissed me goodbye – in front of all of you, I might add – at the barbecue back in July.

“The ‘lipstick’,” she added dismissively, “is probably ketchup. You can, of course, check what Steve and I were wearing that day – there are plenty of photos of the barbecue.”

She looked round at them all, her chin jutting out.

The tears that had flowed when she and Tyler spotted the first of the posters on their way in to work this morning had disappeared totally, Tyler saw with admiration, and had turned into magnificent anger.

He was about to speak again, but she wasn’t done.

“And if I should ever decide to go on a romantic assignation, such as this purports to be,” she continued, her voice shaking with rage, “I’ll make sure I go to a less

sleazy-looking motel!”

A couple of the volunteers laughed nervously, and Cindy cast them a withering look.

“Whatever,” she said. “Right now we need to counter this . . . allegation, and I don’t think your presence is helpful, Ellen. For the sake of the party –”

“If Ellen disappears it will look like an admission of guilt!” Tyler said.

Steve and Pattie were both nodding.

“We need to get busy, and we need Ellen’s help. First,” he said, “all you volunteers, stop working on whatever you’re doing and get out into the town and take down any posters you see. As fast as you can.”

“Can I just remind you who’s campaign manager?” Cindy said hotly. “I give the orders round here!”

“Actually, I do,” Steve corrected her. “Removing the posters has to be the first priority. And someone had better get on to the ‘Advertiser’, and some of the other local papers, and set them straight.”

“That’ll be me,” Pattie said unexpectedly. “I’m the one they’ll believe.”

She gathered up her car keys and left the room, followed swiftly by her mother and Mary-beth.

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Cindy asked more loudly.

“Not a lot, no,” Tyler replied.

She narrowed her eyes dangerously.

“Then I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got things to do. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

Tyler watched her go, wondering where she was going. Too late, he thought it would have been better to have her doing something where he could keep an eye on her.

Steve was watching her, too, the first cloud of what Tyler took to be doubt in his eyes.

“I’m going to the radio station,” Steve said. “The ‘Advertiser’ won’t be quick enough. We need to refute this thing right away. And then I’m going to check on Pattie.”

His face creased with worry.

“She was putting on a brave face just now, but, well, I guess she’ll need a lot of reassurance. See you guys later.”

The room felt very large and echoey once everyone had left. Ellen, Tyler noticed, was still trembling. The anger seemed to have drained from her now that they were alone, and his heart ached.

An unwelcome thought struck him. Was this what people meant when they said that? He’d been in love before, plenty of times. Or he thought he had. But it hadn’t felt anything like this.

He was also uncomfortably aware that he’d made a fool of himself at breakfast over her postcard.

She must know he’d read it. Not that it said anything much, but it didn’t sound as if this Edward guy thought whatever they’d had between them was over. Far from it.

Was this jealousy? It wasn’t an emotion he was familiar with. But the fact remained, the postcard had disturbed him.

He hadn’t liked seeing all these posters of Ellen being kissed, either, however innocent it might be. At this moment he just wanted to remove her from this whole situation and put it right somehow, and just make it all go away.

And kiss her himself. Properly!

“Are you OK?” he asked gently.

She didn’t look at him; her eyes were still fixed on the posters.

“Who did this?” she asked so quietly that Tyler had to bend his head nearer to hers to hear her.

Tyler had a good idea of who was behind it, but how could he prove it?

“I wish I didn’t have to go back on Wednesday,” he said instead. “I really want to be here.”

With you, he didn’t add. “But I have no choice. I’m sorry.”

Ellen was nodding. “It’s fine. This will blow over. If Steve can get a slot on the radio, and the ‘Advertiser’ prints what really happened . . .” She pursed her lips. “It’s not that long till the fund-raising dinner, and I’ll be really busy till then. I won’t have time to think about any of this.

“Then, as soon as the election’s over, I’ll be going back to England. You don’t need to worry about me.”

She fixed a smile into place, but Tyler thought he saw it wobble before she hastily looked away. He’d been concentrating so hard on his own plans that he’d almost forgotten that she wouldn’t be here much longer. He’d got used to her being around.

“I’m coming back for the dinner, of course,” he said quickly. “It’s only three weeks off.”

He’d bought a pair of tickets some time ago, telling himself that he’d find someone to go with, or maybe accompany his mother. Only now did he realise that all along he’d visualised himself going with Ellen.

He knew she hadn’t bought a ticket – apart from anything else, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to afford one. Besides, surely she would expect just to be there as part of the organising team. He wondered if Cindy would see it the same way.

He took a deep breath. “I’m hoping you’ll come with me. As my date.”

The next few days passed in a whirl. Ellen was aware that she was spending more time out of the office than she had done. The weather was superb, and she and Tyler spent most lunchtimes in the park, and didn’t hurry back.

“She can’t have it both ways,” Tyler said reasonably, as they sat on the grass throwing crumbs to a surprisingly tame golden oriole. “Cindy said she thought it would be better if you weren’t around, so she can hardly complain if you’re not at your desk every moment. Anyway, we’re discussing strategy. That’s work, surely?”

“Oh, this is discussing strategy, is it?” Ellen asked, laughing and causing the oriole to fly off, taking the largest crumb with it.

“Of course. We need to plan your schedule. When, for example, are you coming up to Maine to see me? Or better, when are you going to visit New York City? We could spend a weekend sightseeing and getting to know each other better.”

“We’ve had all summer to get to know each other, Tyler,” Ellen reminded him, smiling.

He grinned back sheepishly.

“OK, so my timing’s not perfect. But New York? Maybe the second week in October? That’s not so close to the election that you can’t spare the time. And we’d be away from the prying eyes of my mother. And Pattie, if it comes to that. What do you say?”

Now, days later, Ellen sat at her desk, smiling as she thought about that afternoon.

She had said yes. Maybe with indecent alacrity, but a girl has to take whatever breaks she gets, she thought, slipping into an American accent in her head. This place had really got under her skin.

It had been much harder to concentrate on her work since that particular conversation – and the kisses that followed it – but easier to accept Tyler going back to college.

After all, she’d be seeing him when he came back for the dinner, and then again in just a few short weeks in New York.

She smiled to herself again. Cindy remarked on it.

“I guess you don’t realise how stupid you look, smiling at no-one? I sure hope you’re grinning on account of selling hundreds of fund-raiser tickets, ’cause otherwise, Ellen, there’s nothing whatever to smile about, take it from me.

“Your shenanigans with Steve had a big impact on this campaign. I honestly don’t know why Steve’s letting you continue, but there it is.” She was shaking her head incredulously.

“The effect’s been catastrophic, believe me.”

“I think you’re exaggerating, Cindy,” Ellen said mildly. “The whole thing backfired once the ‘Advertiser’ set the story straight. Anyway, the account’s looking pretty healthy. Look, I’ll show you.”

“Not now, Ellen, I’m busy.” Cindy turned away. “Someone round here has to do some work, that’s for sure.”

Ellen was feeling too happy to let it bother her. She switched on her laptop and waited for it to whirr into action.

She’d sold quite a respectable number of tickets in the last couple of weeks, despite what Cindy said, and people were donating more things for the auction every day.

So far she’d acquired a television, a number of meals in local restaurants, a case of champagne and tickets for Broadway in addition to lots of smaller items. As well, of course, as the quilt, the star attraction.

Now that it was finished it looked stunning. The subtle colour changes were truly beautiful. Not that Ellen would be bidding, much as she’d like to: not with a reserve price of $2,500!

She tapped in her password and waited, still thinking about the auction. Given the amount of work that had gone into it, the quilt was certainly worth that and more. But would they get it?

She scrolled down a list of files and opened the one called Auction Donations, then started putting an estimate next to each item. Even if they only raised half what she’d entered, it was a respectable sum, she thought, surprised at the total.

She opened another file. If she added the auction revenue to the ticket sales she’d surely have raised her target amount. She tapped in the figures, then checked them. It was a close run thing, but she’d done it!

She let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Unless Cindy had suddenly paid out some huge sums to suppliers, they should be home and dry. Thank the Lord. And Tyler, Ellen added mentally.

He had worked really hard, selling tickets during his last few days at home and persuading people to donate prizes. She couldn’t have done it without him.

Ellen quickly tapped in the password to access the campaign bank account and ran her eye down the endless column of figures until she reached the final total. A couple of days ago it had been just a few hundred shy of the target, so it should be well over it now, and when she added the auction money . . .

Ellen frowned. There was obviously some sort of mistake. For all her faults, Cindy usually told her when she’d spent campaign money.

She walked over to Cindy. “Cindy, have you paid any more money out of the account? Since Tuesday, I mean?”

“I would have told you,” Cindy snapped.

She went back to the folder she was looking at. Ellen took a deep breath. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! Don’t tell me you’ve messed up the finances as well as everything else!” Cindy said, her cheeks flaming.

“It’s just that there’s a figure in the debit column I can’t account for. It’s not a huge amount, but it’s still quite significant.”

“You’ve just forgotten something. Not all that unusual, for you.”

This was so unfair that Ellen just stared at her, but Cindy’s attention was back on the folder in front of her.

“I’ll go through the figures again,” Ellen said, but even as she said it she knew that she hadn’t made a mistake.

There was definitely money missing from the account. And it couldn’t have happened by accident.

To be continued.