Free Jilted by Rachael Johns

a somewhat unnecessary precaution in the country – Joyce came around to the driver’s side and took her arm.
    ‘Just hold your head high and smile,’ she instructed, and they ventured into the building.
    Ellie was used to being the point of focus whenever she went out and about. In Sydney, even though most people didn’t go stupid over celebrities, she was always recognised. She didn’t mind the attention – she liked talking to fans, and was more than happy togive her autograph when requested. Not that she’d be getting any such requests around here.
    The moment they stepped through the automatic doors, Ellie felt the chill of the frozen foods section against her cheeks, reminding her of the reception she was expecting. Her gaze moved to the checkout where she’d once worked after school and on Saturday mornings. There was a queue – two trolleys equalled a mad rush in Hope. The customers met Ellie’s eyes and then quickly looked away. She recognised the operator as a girl she’d gone to school with. They’d been quite friendly in the past but now she wasn’t even giving Ellie the chance to toss that smile Joyce had recommended. The woman made sure her eyes didn’t come near Ellie’s.
    Straightening her shoulders and jutting her chin forward, Ellie grabbed a trolley and glanced at Joyce. ‘Let’s do this.’ The quicker the better, she thought.
    In response, Joyce smiled encouragingly and held up their shopping list. As they traversed the aisles, customers stared and were more than generous with reproachful glares. One woman even tsked. Halfway round, Ellie decided she could either let them upset her or she could …
    ‘Hi.’ She offered a woman in aisle three a huge grin. ‘Emma, isn’t it? We went to school together.’
    Emma, who had divine, jet-black hair in a catwalk bob, blinked and looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon whole. Ellie’s heart stopped mid-beat as she waited for a response.
    ‘I’m surprised you remember,’ Emma said eventually. ‘Welcome back.’ Her welcome couldn’t be described as warm, and there weren’t any polite comments about catching up, but she hadn’t spat in her face either. Ellie put that down as a win.
    As Emma walked briskly away, Ellie gave Joyce two thumbs up. They raided items from the shelves and soon filled their trolley. Ellie smiled at a couple of customers she didn’t recognise andeven stopped to talk to one of her old teachers while Joyce read the labels on different baked bean tins. The teacher – Mrs Ellery, who taught English and Drama – had aged about twenty years in the last ten but she could still talk for Olympic gold. She chewed Ellie’s ear off for what seemed an hour, pride shining through as she acknowledged one of her prodigies had made it big. It was funny, Drama had never been Ellie’s favourite or best subject – not that Mrs Ellery remembered it that way. Her break was, if anything, accidental.
    When she’d arrived in Sydney, Ellie had started waitressing at a trendy, inner-city bar. Located next to a mainstream television production company, it had been the hangout of some top-notch producers. Out of the blue one night, one of them asked if she’d like to be an extra in a location episode he was shooting. Hungry for extra cash and happy she’d only be a shadow in the background, she agreed.
    Pretty soon Ellie became a regular extra on Lake Street and, as the saying goes, one thing led to another. She was introduced as the long-lost daughter of a much-loved older character, and as the audience adored her, before too long she was a permanent resident on Australia’s favourite street.
    But if you’d asked her at seventeen what she’d wanted to be, actress would never have crossed her mind.
    ‘We’re reviving the theatrical society,’ Mrs Ellery said. She caught the first breath Ellie had heard her take in about five minutes and then added, ‘You should come along. We could do with your wisdom.’
    ‘Oh no, I