Too Late to Paint the Roses

by Jeanne Whitmee

  ‘Of course. I’ll go now.’ I slipped into the kitchen and took off the miniscule white muslin apron I wore over my black dress. Mary, who was opening a new bottle of wine looked at me. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Maureen has asked me to go down and greet the guest of honour,’ I told her. ‘Seems he’s been stuck in traffic.’

  ‘Well, thank God he’s arriving at last,’ Mary said. ‘If that lot in there get much more of this down them they’ll all be too drunk to care one way or the other!’

  I ran down the stairs and out through the staff entrance. The main doors were still sealed with the brightly coloured ribbon that was to be cut later. The library was tucked away in a quiet tree-lined street close to the municipal gardens. Hardly any traffic passed this way. I waited for a few minutes, hoping that Maureen’s directions had been less confusing to Jake Kenning than they had to me. I’d been waiting about five minutes when a car drove slowly round the corner. It was a black BMW, discreet and understated, not the kind of car I’d been expecting at all. I’d visualized a best-selling author driving a sleek silver Mercedes or a flamboyant Lamborghini. Surely this couldn’t be him. But the car drew to a halt outside the main library entrance some distance from where I was standing. The driver got out and looked around him uncertainly.

  From my vantage point a few yards away I took in his appearance with interest. He wore a very expensive looking suit: dark grey with a faint pinstripe, set off by a gleaming white shirt and plain blue tie. His dark hair was attractively frosted with silver. I took in the fact that he was possibly a few pounds overweight, but decided that he was tall enough to carry it. He reached inside the car for his briefcase then closed the door and locked the car with a beep of his remote control key. I took a deep breath and began to walk towards him, putting on my best, ‘happy-to-meet-you’ smile and holding out my hand.

  ‘Mr Kenning – how do you do? I’m so sorry you’ve had such a difficult journey. I hope—’ The smile froze on my face. Subconsciously I’d already sensed something vaguely familiar about him the moment he’d turned towards me, but now the tilt of his head and the way he walked stopped the words in my throat.

  His eyes widened. ‘I don’t believe this,’ he said. ‘Elaine of all people! What a surprise.’

  Surprise was the understatement of the century. He took my cold hand in a warm grip and held it fast. ‘How lovely to see you. I’d have known you anywhere. You haven’t changed a bit!’ He was laughing delightedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners; those blue eyes that I remembered so well.

  He frowned as he took in my stunned expression. ‘You look stunned! Am I a horrible, ghastly shock?’

  Inside my head it was like the fast rewinding of a tape. Zoom! Back went the years – back to college, to Cecily Harding’s cottage in Cornwall, to that first all enveloping love that later turned to desolation, heartbreak and despair.

  I tried to speak but it all felt so surreal. All that came out was a husky whisper. ‘Chris!’

  Ten

  It felt like an eternity that I stood there, gaping like an idiot. The shock of seeing Chris again was still reverberating through my body when he said, ‘Right – so are you the official welcoming committee?’

  I hurriedly pulled myself together. ‘N-no, I’m half of the catering firm actually. Miss Jones, the librarian asked me to come down and meet you.’

  ‘I see.’

  I disengaged my hand from his and cleared my throat. ‘I think we should get back upstairs,’ I said. ‘They’re all waiting for you.’

  ‘Of course.’ As I turned away he caught my hand again. ‘Elaine – we must catch up later. It really is good to see you.’

  I felt my colour rise. ‘Yes – yes. It’s this way,’ I stammered.

  Maureen was waiting by the door and as she greeted Chris effusively and hurried him off towards the waiting councillors, I made my escape to the kitchen.

  Mary took one look at me. ‘My God! What’s happened? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost!’

  ‘I have.’ I closed the door. ‘It’s Jake Kenning – he turned out to be Chris.’

  She shook her head. ‘Chris? Chris who?’

  ‘Chris Harding.’

  Just for a moment she looked blank, then her eyes widened and her hand shot to her mouth. ‘That wretched waste of space who dumped you – Jamie’s—’

  ‘Yes!’ I couldn’t bear to let her say it. ‘Mary, what shall I do?’

  She frowned. ‘Do? Nothing! All that was over years ago when you were both kids. You made your choice back then. It’s in the past; dead and buried.’ She peered at me. ‘Isn’t it? My God, Elaine, don’t say—’

  ‘Yes of course it’s in the past,’ I said hurriedly. ‘It was just a shock, seeing him again after all this time. It’s embarrassing, being here and meeting him like this.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  At that moment the door opened and Maureen’s flushed face appeared round it. ‘We’re ready to eat now.’ She simpered, ‘Oh, he so nice, isn’t he – Mr Kenning? So natural. Not a bit stuck up or grand. I think today is going to be a great success.’

  To my relief there was no more time for discussion. We took the hot food out of the microwave and added the dishes to the buffet table. The guests helped themselves whilst Mary and I circulated with our bottles of wine, replenishing glasses. When I paused to refill Chris’s glass he smiled at me and lowered his head.

  ‘Will you be attending the talk later?’

  I shook my head. ‘We’ll be clearing up here and taking all our equipment away.’

  ‘But I must see you. Maybe we could meet for a drink later.’ He caught my wrist as I turned away. ‘Do say yes, Elaine.’

  I swallowed hard, horrified at the way my heart was reacting. Mary had been right; what Chris and I had shared had been nothing more than a teenage romance. It had been over years ago. But even while I was trying to convince myself I knew I was in denial. There was the one massive secret that Chris didn’t – never could know. Why, oh why did he have to come back like this? It wasn’t fair.

  He was looking at me. ‘Maybe tomorrow if not this evening. I’m going to be around for a day or two, looking up old friends. A bit of a nostalgia trip. Meet me for lunch tomorrow?’

  I glanced around and saw Mary watching me out of the corner of her eye. ‘I can’t,’ I said quickly. ‘I – we’re busy.’

  ‘A drink then – later on this evening?’

  ‘No!’ Suddenly I realized how bizarre my behaviour must seem. ‘There’s an awful lot to do,’ I finished lamely.

  He laughed. ‘Elaine! What are you afraid of? I’m still the same person. I just thought it might be fun to catch up on all that’s happened to each of us.’ He put his hand in his pocket and pressed a card into my hand. ‘My number’s on there,’ he said quietly. ‘Give me a ring if you change your mind.’

  I slipped the card into my apron pocket and turned quickly away. He was looking up old friends, he said. ‘A bit of a nostalgia trip’, that was all. I was nothing more than an old friend to him, so why was I getting in such a state about having a drink with him?

  In the kitchen Mary looked at me. ‘Well, he certainly looks prosperous enough,’ she said. ‘I hardly remember him at all – only saw him a few times at college.’ She took in my flushed face and asked, ‘I saw him chatting you up. He wasn’t trying to proposition you, was he?’

  I made myself laugh. ‘Mary! Of course not. As if!’

  She raised a cynical eyebrow. ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much,’ she said.

  I grabbed a fresh plate of scampi out of the microwave and began stabbing cocktail sticks into them. ‘There’s a lady out there who’ll be protesting too much if you don’t uncork another couple of bottles,’ I told her. ‘And is the champagne chilled enough? The opening ceremony is in fifteen minutes. I can hear the rest of the library staff arriving downstairs already.’

  ‘All right – all right, little Miss Efficiency,’ Mary said with a
grin. ‘But his lordship in there obviously thinks he’s a celebrity and God’s gift, so don’t let yourself get carried away.’

  Trays of champagne flutes were already lined up on the reception desk down in the library and fifteen minutes later everyone trooped downstairs for the opening ceremony whilst Mary and I went into the library and prepared to open the champagne. There was a queue of people outside and a cheer went up as Maureen appeared with Jake Kenning and handed him the scissors with which he was to perform the opening ceremony. The local press was there in force and after Chris had made the official opening speech the crowd surged inside for their complimentary glass of champagne. They milled round Chris, cameras flashed and reporters jostled for his attention.

  As everyone took their seats in anticipation of the promised talk Mary and I loaded the used glasses onto trays and made our discreet exit upstairs.

  ‘Thank God that’s over,’ I said as we began to pack everything away and dispose of the detritus.

  ‘What, the opening ceremony or being in close proximity to your ex?’ Mary asked.

  ‘I wish you’d stop making those innuendos,’ I said. ‘If I hadn’t told you Jake Kenning was really Chris Harding you have been none the wiser.’

  ‘One look at your face was enough to tell me something was up,’ Mary said. ‘You came back up here all of a do-dah.’

  ‘I did not. It was a shock, that’s all.’

  ‘Okay, have it your way.’ She began clearing the left over food from the serving dishes. ‘Does that pup of yours eat sausage rolls?’

  ‘No he does not!’ I said, too sharply. ‘We don’t want him growing into an elephant, do we?’

  Mary said nothing but the look she gave me said it all.

  We drove back to her house in silence to stack her industrial dish washer and throw the tablecloths into the washing machine. When I had my coat on ready to leave she grabbed me and gave me a huge hug.

  ‘Today has been difficult for you, hasn’t it, darlin’?’

  I felt tears string the corners of my eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Mary. I know I’ve been a bit of a cow.’

  She shook her head. ‘’Course you haven’t. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have teased you. I meant it when I said that your relationship with Chris was dead and buried though. It’s much too late to be changing anything now, love. You made your decision – right or wrong – a long time ago and I think you know that you have to stick with it. I’d hate to see any of you get hurt now.’ She tipped up my chin to look into my eyes. ‘You and Jamie and Ian are the closest I’ll ever have to family. You mean the world to me.’

  ‘I know.’ I swallowed the lump in my throat. ‘I know you’re right too.’ I kissed her cheek. ‘See you soon, Mary. And thanks – for everything.’

  At home I went straight upstairs to change. As I opened the linen basket to throw my soiled apron in something slipped out of the pocket and fell onto the floor. I picked it up. It was Chris’s card. I put my foot on the pedal of the bin but something wouldn’t let me drop the card inside. Instead, I opened my handbag and pushed it into the mirror pocket. Just a souvenir, I told myself, refusing to let myself think of the other possibilities.

  That evening Ian and Jamie were attending a concert rehearsal together at St Cecilia’s so as soon as I had changed I went down to the kitchen to start preparing our evening meal early. To my dismay Amanda joined me in the kitchen and I noticed that although her unwashed lunch dishes were in the sink she was making no attempt at washing them up. She began to talk but I carried on peeling vegetables, only half listening to what she was saying.

  ‘So – what do you think of the idea?’ she asked suddenly.

  I looked at her. ‘Think of what idea?’

  She gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘There. I knew you weren’t listening.’ She took a deep breath and spoke slowly and clearly as though I were deaf or childish, ‘I – asked you – what you thought – of having an ensuite – installed in my room. There’s plenty of space for it.’

  Stressed by the day’s shocking happenings, her rudeness grated my already shredded nerves. ‘Absolutely not!’ I snapped.

  She stared at me defiantly. ‘And why not, may I ask?’

  ‘Amanda, staying here was only supposed to be a temporary measure to help you until your ankle healed,’ I said with as much patience as I could manage. ‘You’ve done nothing but stir up trouble ever since you arrived. First you insult my father then you have the cheek to sack the cleaner, now you calmly suggest that we install an en-suite for you.’

  ‘You’re the one who is always complaining that I’m using the bathroom when your son needs it.’

  ‘You’ve got all day. You could always wait for half an hour.’

  ‘Why should I be the one who has to wait?’ she demanded. ‘If I had my own en-suite—’

  ‘Are you going to pay for it?’

  She bridled. ‘It’s your house! Anyway, look at the money that was spent on your father’s flat!’

  I sighed. ‘Amanda, I’ve told you a dozen times. Dad is part owner of this house and he paid for the conversion of his own flat.’

  ‘So you say!’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘When I asked him he refused to discuss it.’

  ‘I don’t blame him. Why should he discuss his personal finances with you? And apart from everything else he’s done to help us, Dad makes a huge contribution by tending the garden.’

  She bristled. ‘Perhaps you’d like me to scrub the floors. You’ve already deprived me of a cleaner for my room.’

  ‘You sacked the cleaner,’ I reminded her. ‘You were extremely rude to her. The only way I could persuade her to come back was to promise that you and she needn’t cross paths again.’

  For a moment she was silent then she looked at me. ‘Elaine – I thought once that you and I were friends,’ she said. ‘You came to see me once and we had a heart-to-heart, remember? I really believed we understood one another.’

  I returned her look. ‘So did I, Amanda, but it seems I was wrong.’

  ‘Why do you hate me?’ she whined. ‘What have I done to make you dislike me so much?’

  ‘I don’t hate you, Amanda. I just wish you could try not to be so selfish; to consider others more.’

  She gave a little shrug. ‘As a matter of fact Janet has asked me to go and stay with her for a while. I refused, but maybe you’d like me to go.’

  ‘You must do as you like,’ I said, turning away. ‘You always do anyway, don’t you?’

  She walked out, shutting the kitchen door behind her sharply as she went. I slipped the pie I had made into the oven and sat down at the table, my heart heavy. I’d hoped so much that life here at Beaumont House would be happy but now I wished we were back in the little cottage in Mableton Park. It was cramped and inconvenient but we were happy there, the three of us. Since we’d moved in here everyone seemed to have separate lives, except Amanda who insisted on encroaching on everyone else’s. It was as though we were slowly moving apart and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  My attention was caught by Cecily Harding’s painting of St Ives Harbour, which I’d hung on the wall where I could see it when I was cooking. A pang of nostalgia hit me and I longed to see the place again. But it wouldn’t be the same. It never could.

  Ian and Jamie rushed in from school, ate the meal I had cooked without any obvious enjoyment, went upstairs to get ready and hurried off out again, with a perfunctory, ‘See you later’. I was left with an empty space and the washing up.

  As I dried the dishes and put them away my thoughts were still on St Ives and, inevitably, Chris. It would be nice to meet again and reminisce. A drink, he had said. What harm would it do? The alternative was an evening alone in front of the TV. I opened my bag and took out the card. Mary’s words echoed warningly in my head but I pushed them aside. I was a grown-up, married woman with my own business, not a silly teenage girl any more. I had my head screwed on the right way, as Dad used to say. It woul
d be interesting to hear how Chris had made his mark and become Jake Kenning, best-selling novelist.

  I laid the card on the table and took out my phone. As I tapped in the number part of me hoped his phone would be switched off. It would be a sign. If it went straight to voicemail I’d switch off without leaving a message. The tone rang out several times. Clearly he was not going to pick up. Partly relieved – partly disappointed, I was about to give up when his voice suddenly cut in.

  ‘Hello – Elaine. Sorry, I was in the shower – didn’t hear the phone.’

  My heart began to hammer against my ribs. What on earth was I doing?

  ‘Oh – Chris. I just – I thought—’

  ‘You’ve changed your mind?’ he said eagerly. ‘You’ll meet for a drink after all?’

  He sounded so pleased that my fears were allayed a little. ‘Well if you’re not – if it’s—’

  ‘It’s fine. I couldn’t come to Greencliffe and not meet you and catch up,’ He sounded delighted. ‘Look, have you got a favourite place or would you like to come here? I’m staying out of town a bit; the Meadwell Country Club. Mainly because I can be incognito here. Do you know it?’

  I did know it and ‘incognito’ sounded fine to me. ‘I know it,’ I told him. ‘At least, I’ve driven past. It’s far too expensive for the likes of us.’

  He laughed. ‘It’s not that posh. Meet me in the bar then – say in an hour?’

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  I snapped my phone shut and waited for my heart to stop thumping. What was I doing? Nothing, I insisted. Meeting an old flame – long since doused – for a chat and an exchange of news. That was all. That was all!

  Eleven

  Chris was waiting when I walked into the bar at the Meadwell Club. He was wearing jeans and a roll-neck sweater. Immediately I felt over dressed. It had taken me three different changes before I decided what to wear. Finally I’d chosen a plain black dress and my highest heels. I wanted to present the image of a mature, sophisticated woman, even though I didn’t feel like one. Inside I was still that young girl from Yorkshire, starry-eyed and naive. Something inside me had regressed ten years the moment I set eyes on Chris again, but I wouldn’t admit that, even to myself.