Too Late to Paint the Roses

by Jeanne Whitmee

  Bitterly disappointed. Decided to return to London next week. Come up for the weekend? Please say yes. C.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Dad was looking at me.

  I nodded. ‘It’s fine.’ I switched the phone off feeling slightly apprehensive. Clearly Chris wasn’t going to let it go.

  The concert began and for a while the events of the day were forgotten. We were entranced. Ian’s new choir was enchanting and received a standing ovation and Jamie’s solo went without a hitch. Ian played a piano solo, his own arrangement of the second movement of Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto. It was so brilliant and I was so proud of him that I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

  Dad and I said goodbye to Mary and Janet in the car park and waited for Ian and Jamie to emerge. In the car on the way home Jamie was still hyped up on adrenaline and couldn’t keep still.

  ‘Did it really go okay, Mum? Did you like it? What about you, Granddad? Was I okay?’

  ‘Everyone loved it,’ I told him. ‘And I was very proud of you – the proudest mum in the audience.’

  Dad reiterated my approval but the moment we arrived home Jamie’s first thought was for Toffee.

  ‘He’s been all on his own all evening. Where is he? I’ll take him for a little walk.’

  Dad and I exchanged glances. There was no putting it off any longer. I opened my mouth but Dad held up his hand.

  ‘Jamie, lad. Your mum and I have a bit of bad news to tell you. When I told you he was with Auntie Janet this afternoon it wasn’t quite true. I’m afraid there was an accident this morning. The front door had been left open and Toff got out. Before we could stop him he ran out into the road and—’

  ‘Oh no!’ Jamie’s eyes were huge and tear-filled. ‘Granddad – he isn’t – isn’t dead, is he?’

  ‘No, no! He was hurt, though, and he has to stay at the vet’s just for tonight. One of his back legs is broken and the vet had to fix it. Apart from that he’s all right. You and I will go and pick him up tomorrow morning, eh? We’ll have to take great care of him for a few weeks, but I bet he’ll cheer up when he sees you.’

  ‘Are you sure he’s all right, Granddad? You’re not just saying that?’ I could see that he was trying very hard not to cry.

  ‘I promise you, Jamie,’ Dad said gently. ‘He’s fine. He’ll be as good as new in a few weeks’ time, you’ll see.’

  Jamie swallowed hard. ‘I want to know exactly what happened. Will you tell me?’

  Dad looked at me. ‘Come on, lad. You’ve had a busy day. Go up now and I’ll come up when you’re in bed and tell you all about it.’

  ‘Okay.’ Jamie threw his arms around my neck. ‘’Night, Mum. Thanks for coming to the concert and for taking care of Toffee.’ He looked into my eyes. ‘He will be okay, won’t he?’

  ‘He’ll be fine, I promise,’ I told him, swallowing the lump in my throat. ‘And now you’ll have all the summer holidays to spend with him, helping to get his leg better.’

  When they gone Ian looked at me. ‘What really happened?’

  I sighed. ‘Amanda had a letter in the post that she couldn’t wait to read, apparently. She was standing reading it at the open door and Toffee ran downstairs and straight out into the road before I could stop him.’

  He sighed. ‘You were right; it really isn’t working, is it, having her here? We’re going to have to do something about it.’

  I felt like telling him he’d taken long enough to realize it but instead I sighed. ‘I don’t know that there’s anything we can do now.’ I looked at him. ‘I’m not going to Italy,’ I told him. ‘I’ve cancelled. I couldn’t go and leave Jamie after what’s happened.’

  He frowned. ‘Oh, Elaine, what a pity. You really needed that break.’

  I shrugged. ‘It can’t be helped,’ I said, guilt making me abrupt. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll go some other time.’

  ‘Maybe you and I could get off somewhere on our own,’ Ian said. ‘Just lately we don’t seem to have had much time for each other, what with one thing and another.’ He reached for my hand. ‘What we need is a second honeymoon.’

  Before I could think of a reply there was a tap on the door. It opened immediately and Amanda looked round it.

  ‘I’m not intruding, am I?’

  I felt my eyebrows rise. It was so unlike Amanda to be considerate. I hadn’t seen her since that morning when I’d lashed out at her and I felt slightly uncomfortable.

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ Ian said. ‘What can we do for you?’

  ‘I couldn’t go to bed without inquiring about the dog,’ she said, with a glance in my direction. ‘Is it …’ she glanced at me. ‘Is he all right?’

  ‘He’s being kept at the vet’s overnight,’ Ian told her. ‘His leg is broken, but he’ll make a full recovery.’

  ‘Oh, well that’s good.’ Uninvited, she came into the room and sat down. ‘I’m sorry. I know it was my fault. Obviously, I’ll pay the vet’s bill.’

  I could hardly believe my ears. ‘I owe you an apology, Amanda,’ I said. ‘I was very rude to you this morning.’

  She shook her head. ‘You were upset. Forget it.’

  She remained seated and into the awkward silence that followed I asked, ‘Would you like a drink? Coffee –chocolate?’

  ‘You haven’t got a brandy, have you?’

  Ian and I looked at each other. ‘I think there’s a drop left in the bottle in the pantry,’ I said. ‘Will you have a look, Ian? Cleo made me a cup of tea after the accident and she put some in it, so I’m not sure how much is left.’

  ‘Wouldn’t put it past her to be knocking it back herself!’ Amanda glanced at me and bit her lip. ‘But there, perhaps I’m being unduly suspicious.’

  Ian found a small glassful left in the bottle and poured it for Amanda who knocked it back in one swallow. She gave an appreciative nod then looked at us. ‘I’ve got some news.’

  ‘Good news, I hope,’ I said. ‘We could do with some.’

  ‘That letter I had this morning,’ she began. ‘It was from someone I used to know when I was in the theatre. He works in TV now. Seems that the BBC is planning a new soap for BBC Radio Four and there’s a part in it that would suit me. It would be at least six months’ work. He’s put my name forward but I’ll have to audition, of course. They’re being held in London next week and he wants me to go up.’ She gave a coy little smile. ‘He’s offered to meet me from the train and take me to lunch first.’

  ‘How exciting,’ I said.

  Ian looked doubtful. ‘Are you sure you’re up to it after all this time?’

  She bridled. ‘Up to it? I’m not in my dotage yet, thank you very much, Ian, and I have worked for the BBC before, remember.’

  ‘Not for some time.’

  ‘Actresses of my age and experience are hard to find. Anyway, time will tell, won’t it?’

  ‘So you’re definitely going to try for it?’

  ‘Of course I am! Apart from anything else the money will come in very handy.’ She looked from one to the other of us. ‘I’d be able to pay you proper rent for instance.’

  ‘But surely if you’d be working in London you’d have to live there?’ I put in.

  ‘Not necessarily. The train service from here is very good.’

  ‘The travelling would be tiring for you though,’ Ian said. ‘Much better if you could get a flat close to the studios.’

  Amanda raised an eyebrow. ‘If I didn’t know you better I might think you were hoping to get rid of me.’ There was a moment’s silence as we looked at one another then Amanda said ingenuously, ‘Don’t think I haven’t appreciated your letting me stay here rent free.’

  Ian cleared his throat. ‘Does this friend of yours have a name?’

  ‘Yes, it’s Haydn,’ Amanda said. ‘Haydn Jenkins.’

  The name rang a bell but it wasn’t until much later that I remembered where I’d heard it before. Haydn Jenkins was the ‘old flame’ that Cleo had put in touch with Amanda again. She’d been ang
ry at the time, probably because she thought he was still a humble stage manager in the provinces, but now that his career had progressed and he had some clout she clearly saw him in a different light.

  With all the preoccupation of the inter-schools concert and Toffee’s accident the impending visit from a social worker had completely escaped my mind, so when we received a letter on the morning after the concert informing us that Rosemary Saunders would be visiting at three o’clock one week from the following Monday it came as a shock. Ian remarked that it couldn’t have come at a better time. Now that school had broken up he would be free to be interviewed with me. As for me, it opened up a whole new set of problems.

  Dad took Jamie to the vet’s to collect Toffee and they came back, Jamie carrying his pet tenderly in his arms. The little dog still looked slightly woozy from the sedation and hobbled round uncomfortably with his damaged leg in plaster. Jamie fussed over him like a mother hen.

  ‘He’ll have to stay here in the kitchen with his basket all day,’ he told me. ‘He’s not allowed to run upstairs or jump onto the furniture or up and down steps. I can take him for gentle little walks and round the garden but that’s all for the time being. He’s got to go back to the vet in ten days’ time to have his stitches out.’ He looked at me. ‘He can still sleep in my room though, can’t he, Mum? I can carry him up at bedtime.’

  ‘Of course you can.’ Obviously Jamie was going to be fully occupied for most of the summer. I reflected that it was a good job we hadn’t booked a holiday.

  Working with Mary that morning I was quiet, preoccupied with thoughts of the social worker’s visit. Predictably, Mary noticed.

  ‘What’s up? You’re not worrying about that little dog, are you? I’m sure Jamie won’t let anything happen to him.’

  I looked at her. My mind was in turmoil. I had to talk to someone. I knew Mary would be furious with me but I was prepared for that, desperate as I was for some sensible advice.

  ‘I’ve got a problem, Mary,’ I said.

  She laughed. ‘Haven’t we all?’

  ‘A big one,’ I went on. ‘One that could well ruin my life – Ian’s and Jamie’s too. I don’t know what to do.’

  Her face changed immediately and she put aside what she was doing. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘First things first; let’s get the kettle on then you can tell me about it.’

  When I confessed that I’d been seeing Chris ever since the library opening she was even angrier than I had expected.

  ‘My God, Elaine, what were you thinking about? You realize what you’re risking, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do. That’s why I’m so worried.’

  ‘What on earth made you want to start seeing him again? I thought it was over years ago.’

  ‘It was – it is. It was him. He said letting me go was the worst mistake he’d ever made. He kept ringing and texting, begging me to meet him and – I don’t know, things just got out of hand.’

  ‘Right.’ She reached for my hand. ‘Let just get one thing out of the way; have you slept with him?’

  ‘No!’ I shook my head.

  ‘So – at these secret meetings nothing happened?’

  ‘Most of them took place in public places.’

  ‘Most?’ She cocked an inquiring eyebrow at me.

  ‘We went to his room once.’ I glanced up at her. ‘Nothing happened, except – kisses.’

  Mary threw up her hands. ‘My God, Elaine! Are you mad? And what about this trip to Italy? What kind of message do you think you gave out by agreeing to go?’

  ‘I know what you’re thinking.’

  ‘So why?’

  I shook my head. ‘I suppose I was in denial.’

  ‘In denial! Running head first into a brick wall, more like! I can’t believe you can have been so naive! You must have been only too aware of what would happen – what he obviously intended?’

  ‘But it didn’t happen, did it? I didn’t go.’

  ‘Only by sheer chance.’ She paused. ‘What is it, Elaine? What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy with Ian? Don’t you love him any more?’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  ‘Then why…?’

  ‘I don’t know! Maybe it was just remembering the way Chris and I used to be – the fact that he’s Jamie’s father.’ I shook my head helplessly. ‘Just lately Ian and I seem to have drifted apart. He’s so totally preoccupied with his music that I seem to have taken second place. Then Chris came along and he – well – wanted me.’ I looked at her. ‘That sounds feeble and shallow, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes it bloody well does,’ she said brutally. ‘Not a bit like you at all; though, having said that, we’re all human I suppose. All marriages drift a bit at times. Life gets in the way. It sounds to me as though you and Ian need to start working on your marriage a bit harder. Why don’t you try to get away together? Spend some time reminding yourselves how much in love you still are.’

  ‘He’s been suggesting just that and I know you’re both right.’

  ‘Do you think he suspects?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So what’s the problem? Be strong. Tell Chris to take a running jump.’

  ‘If only it were that easy.’ I sighed. ‘The adoption thing has come up again. We’ve been allocated a date for the hearing now.’

  ‘Why should that make a difference?’

  ‘When we first began the proceedings and filled in all the necessary forms I had no idea where Chris was, which meant that his agreement to the adoption wasn’t necessary. But now I do know where he is. And we’re getting a visit from a social worker the week after next. What do I tell her?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Mary said firmly. ‘Chris hasn’t a clue about Jamie so it really comes to the same thing as him being absent, doesn’t it?’

  ‘But is that honest? And supposing it came out? Could I be accused of perjury?’

  ‘I don’t see how it could come out – unless….’ Mary was silent for a moment. ‘You’re not thinking of telling Chris he’s Jamie’s father, are you?’

  ‘Maybe I should now that he’s back on the scene?’

  ‘Are you going to discuss this with Ian?’

  ‘How can I, Mary? He’d insist that we did it together and I wouldn’t put it past Chris to tell him we’d been seeing each other.’

  ‘So – what’s the alternative?’

  ‘He – Chris – wants me to meet him in London next week, when he gets back from Italy. I think I’ve got to go – tell him I can’t see him any more and ask him to grant his permission for the adoption.’

  ‘And if he refuses to give it unless you keep up the relationship? God, Elaine, you’re playing with fire!’

  When Rosemary Saunders arrived she wasn’t what I expected at all. A kindly grey-haired lady in her early fifties, she put Ian and me at our ease at once.

  ‘This is only a formality,’ she said as the three of us sat down together. ‘Just to check that nothing has changed since you first put in your application.’ She looked expectantly from one to the other of us. ‘I take it nothing has?’

  Ian shook his head vigorously. ‘Not at all. We can’t wait to be a proper family, can we, darling?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And your son?’ Mrs Saunders consulted her notes then looked up at us. ‘Where is Jamie by the way? Will he be joining us?’

  ‘He’s out walking his dog,’ I told her. ‘Unfortunately the dog was involved in an accident last week and he has one leg in plaster. Jamie is taking great care of him.’

  She smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it. He’s happy then at the prospect of Ian becoming his adoptive father?’

  ‘Absolutely. He can’t wait,’ Ian told her proudly.

  At that moment Jamie came in with Toffee. Mrs Saunders paused to ask about Toffee’s leg and Jamie gravely gave her all the details.

  ‘I expect you’re looking forward to having Ian as your dad,’ she said, ‘and having Morton as your legal name.’

  Jamie nodded enthusiastically.
‘It’ll be wicked!’ He looked at me. ‘Can I take Toff upstairs now, Mum?’

  I nodded. ‘It’s fine. Off you go.’

  I made tea and Mrs Saunders drank a cup. I got the impression that she was no pushover in spite of her motherly appearance. As she sat sipping her tea she took in every aspect of her surroundings and asked numerous questions about our family life, particularly Ian and Jamie’s mutual love of music. The front doorbell rang and Ian looked up.

  ‘I’m sorry but I’m afraid that will be one of my pupils,’ he said. ‘Do you need me for anything else?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I think I have all I need, Ian, thank you.’

  As Ian left the room she made no attempt to leave herself. There was something about her direct grey eyes that unnerved me slightly. I put my hand on the teapot and asked if she would like another cup of tea.

  She smiled. ‘Thank you.’ I was aware of her watching me as I poured and when I handed her the cup she said. ‘Mrs Morton, I get the feeling that there is something you want to tell me.’

  Her perception took my breath away. I paused. ‘Well – you asked if anything had changed,’ I said.

  ‘Yes?’ She eyed me over the rim of her cup.

  ‘When – when we first filled in the adoption forms, Jamie’s biological father could not be traced. Recently I have – quite accidentally – discovered his whereabouts.’

  She replaced her cup on the table. ‘Ah – that does rather change things.’

  My heart sank. ‘Does it mean that he now has to give his permission?’

  ‘Agreement,’ she corrected. ‘I take it you and Ian have discussed this?’

  ‘No. Ian doesn’t know.’

  She frowned. ‘I don’t follow. You say you’ve discovered Jamie’s father’s whereabouts?’

  ‘He changed his name some time ago,’ I explained. ‘It was quite by chance that we met again. You see, the problem is that he doesn’t know that he fathered a son. Our relationship ended before I knew I was pregnant.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘So, do you think he should be made aware of the fact now?’

  She frowned. ‘It might be advisable to put him in the picture – just in case of complications later.’