I caught the train by the skin of my teeth. As I walked along the carriage, looking for a seat I spotted Amanda, a spare seat beside her. Before I could slip past she looked up and saw me.
‘Elaine! Come and sit down. You look tired. Had a good day?’
Her words were very slightly slurred and I guessed that Haydn had dined her well and wined her even better. I sat down gratefully in the empty seat beside her.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘You don’t seem to have done much shopping,’ she observed, looking round for non-existent bags.
‘No, there wasn’t really time.’
‘You know, you’re always in such a rush,’ she said. ‘You’ve been looking really strained and tired lately. You could do with a break.’
I shrugged, surprised at her perception. Amanda always seemed too preoccupied with her own needs to notice anyone else’s.
She grasped my arm. ‘Go on then – ask me. Aren’t you dying to know?’
Suddenly I remembered her reason for coming up to London. ‘Oh – the audition! How did it go?’
‘I got the part!’ she announced – so loudly that other passengers turned to look at her.
‘Really? Congratulations!’ I thought of having the house to ourselves once again – of being without her shrill voice and the constant barrage of demands and my heart lifted so much that I felt almost fond of her. I squeezed her arm. ‘That’s great news, Amanda, and what about Haydn, did you have fun catching up with him?’
She pulled a face, suddenly sober. ‘Oh, him! I’ve never seen anyone age so badly,’ she said, patting her hair. ‘The trouble is he thinks he’s still twenty-five. I’ll have my work cut out keeping him in line, I can tell you!’
Sixteen
When Amanda and I turned into the drive at Beaumont House Ian was just seeing his last pupil out. Amanda buttonholed him at once, eager to regale him with the details of her prospective triumphant comeback. By the time she let him go I’d made some sandwiches and had the kettle on. I looked round as Ian came through the door.
‘Hi. Where’s Jamie?’
‘Your dad has taken him to a cricket match,’ he said. ‘They’ve taken Toffee with them.’
‘Tea and a sandwich? I asked.
He nodded. ‘Please. That was Margaret Harris, my most challenging pupil. I need sustenance after an hour with her.’ He glanced at me as I spread the cloth on the table. ‘You came home then.’
I looked at him. ‘Of course I came home.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘And…?’
‘Chris has promised to sign the adoption agreement.’
‘And that’s all? He doesn’t want to meet Jamie – have regular access?’
‘No.’
‘And he’s not going to turn up on the doorstep making demands?’
I shook my head. ‘He’s not interested. As long as nothing gets into the newspapers that’s all he cares about.’
‘Huh, charming! And this is the man you almost left me for.’
I sat down opposite him. ‘Ian, there was never any question of me leaving you.’
‘So you say.’
‘I mean it, I promise you. The only explanation I can offer for seeing Chris again is that I never quite drew a line under our relationship when we split up.’
‘And you wanted to turn back the clock?’
‘No. I think I’d built a rosy picture of what we once had. Now I remember it for what it was, a romantic, girlish dream that ended in probably the worst time of my life. Although I didn’t see it at the time I know now that Chris was always self-centred. Success hasn’t improved him.’ I looked up at him. ‘The only question now is, do you still want to go ahead with the adoption?’
‘Want to go ahead?’ His eyes met mine. ‘What do you think? You know what Jamie means to me.’
‘Yes, I do. But unfortunately Jamie and I come as a package and if you feel that I’ve let you down too badly to be forgiven—’ He held up his hand to stop me.
‘Stop right there. I don’t want to go into that.’
‘But I think we have to, Ian. I don’t want to be tolerated just because you love Jamie. I don’t want to be the price you pay for something you’ve set your heart on.’
‘That’s a brutal way of putting it.’
‘But nevertheless that’s how it is. I know I’ve behaved badly. I know I don’t deserve your love and trust. I’m just being realistic.’
He was shaking his head. ‘I can’t talk about this any more tonight, Elaine. Forget the tea. I think I’ll have an early night.’
As he made to get up I put out a hand to stop him. ‘Ian, please, we can’t keep avoiding the subject. Is it possible to mend the damage I’ve done? I need to know. Can things ever be the same as before?’
He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I don’t know, Elaine,’ he said. ‘I honestly don’t know.’
‘I’d never spoil things between you and Jamie. You know that, don’t you? If the worst happened I’d still want you and he to see as much of each other as possible.’
‘I can’t discuss it now.’ He flung out of the room but not before I’d seen the tears glistening in his eyes; not before I’d seen the deep hurt etched on his face. My heart ached. Just how much damage had I caused? Would he ever find it in his heart to forgive me? How could I have been such a fool?
My appetite gone I stood up and began to take the cloth off the table. Suddenly my eyes alighted on Cecily Harding’s watercolour painting of St Ives harbour on the wall opposite and I remembered the peace and beauty of the place. I thought of Amanda’s words. You’ve been looking strained and tired. You need a break. Maybe if I put some distance between Ian and myself we’d both have time and space to think things through rationally. Maybe going back to Cornwall would make things fall into place for me. It would do Jamie good too, after all the hard work he had put in at school and with his music. There was still time before he and Ian were due to leave for the Cardiff Summer School. I could rent a cottage in St Ives for a week – we could even take Toffee.
After yet another night in the spare room Ian came down to breakfast looking red-eyed and exhausted. I seized the moment while it was just the two of us to bring up the subject of Cornwall.
‘I’ve been thinking. We could both do with some time apart, Ian.’
He replaced his coffee cup on its saucer and pushed it away. ‘Is this your way of saying that you’re leaving?’
‘No! Just that we could do with a break – all of us. Before you and Jamie go to Cardiff suppose I rent a cottage and take Jamie and Toffee, just for a few days?’ I leant towards him. ‘I’m talking about a holiday, Ian; some time for you and me – specially you to take stock; think things through. It’s impossible with us all on top of one another.’
He relaxed visibly. ‘I daresay Jamie would appreciate it.’
‘The thing is would you appreciate it?’ I said. ‘Do you think it would help us come to a decision – about the future?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Then shall I make arrangements?’
‘If you like. All right then.’
‘I’ll ask Jamie first, of course. I don’t want to force him away from his beloved music.’
But Jamie was delighted by the idea. I pointed to the picture on the kitchen wall. ‘You see that place? I went there once. I used to know the lady who painted that picture. Would you like to go and see it for real? It’s quite a long way but it’s worth the drive. What do you think?’
He nodded eagerly. ‘Wow! Yes please, Mum. I could go out in one of those fishing boats.’
I laughed. ‘Well, I don’t know about that. I’d quite like to bring you home in one piece.’
And so it was agreed. First I talked to Mary but she brushed my concerns about letting her down aside with a wave of her hand.
‘Just you get your marriage sorted out,’ she said. ‘For once I agree with Amanda that you need a break. You and Ian both look strained. Maybe a few days apart are just wha
t you need. And don’t worry about Mary-Mary. Janet and I can manage perfectly well without you. Don’t imagine for one minute that you’re indispensable, my girl,’ she added with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Just get your life sorted out.’
I rang Mrs Saunders and left a message on her phone to tell her that Chris had agreed to the adoption and giving her his London address. Then I rang the tourist agency, holding my breath that there would be something available for me to rent at such short notice. To my relief they had a cottage free the following week, not far from the harbour.
The following Saturday Jamie and I set out complete with Toffee in his basket on the back seat. It was surprising how quickly he’d become used to having one leg in plaster. I’d consulted the vet and as Toffee had had his stitches out now he was allowed to be a bit more active.
We made the drive in good time and arrived in St Ives just as the sun was setting. Jamie got out of the car outside the cottage and stared at the harbour, its waters painted golden by the setting sun.
‘Wow, Mum. It’s nothing like Greencliffe, is it?’
I laughed as I heaved our cases out of the boot. ‘Not a bit. Come on, are you going to help me with these cases instead of goggling at the scenery?’
Later, he stared out of the window at the boats, bobbing on the incoming tide. ‘I wish Ian could have come too,’ he said wistfully. He turned to me. ‘You and he are okay, aren’t you?’
I looked up in surprise. I’d thought we’d kept our differences to ourselves but it seemed Jamie had picked up on the atmosphere between us. ‘Of course we are,’ I told him cheerfully. ‘We’re fine.’
‘I’ve made up my mind,’ he said. ‘When we go home I’m going to start calling Ian Dad. Do you think he’ll like that?’
I swallowed hard at the lump in my throat. ‘Very much,’ I said. ‘I think he’ll like that a lot.’
Jamie adored St Ives. He swam in the chilly Cornish sea and scoured the beach at low tide for shells and semi-precious stones. Most of his ‘finds’ were just plain pebbles but he was delighted with his collection. We walked and explored coves in the daytime and went down to the harbour in the evening to buy freshly caught fish for our tea. One of the fishermen took a shine to Jamie and after a lot of broad hints he offered to take him out in his boat. Seeing my doubtful expression he held up a small life jacket.
‘No need to worry, missus,’ he said. ‘My grandson’s about this young’un’s age and I always make him wear this when he comes out with me. This young feller-me-lad’ll come to no harm, I promise you.’ He laughed, his brown, weather-beaten face creasing. ‘You can even bring your little hound if you like,’ he said, ruffling Jamie’s hair. ‘He’s not going far with that pot on his leg I’ll be bound.’
They went the following day and I watched as the little boat sailed out after lunch on the high tide, Jamie sitting in the stern with Toffee firmly tethered by his lead at his side. I’d decided to spend the afternoon going into the town to look at the shops but instead I found my feet leading me up the narrow, steeply stepped alleyways to where I remembered Cecily’s cottage stood high above the harbour. Nothing had changed. Rambling roses still spilled over the stone walls and the scent of lavender filled the soft summer air.
Suddenly there it was at the top of the steps; Cecily’s cottage, drowsing in the afternoon sunshine. The scent from the honeysuckle that climbed over the front porch was so evocative that it made my senses reel. Someone else lived there now, of course. There were different curtains at the windows and the tubs outside the front door were filled with golden marigolds instead of petunias. I sat down on the top step and looked at the view – the very view that Cecily had painted in the picture she’d given me.
‘I’m so sorry, Cecily,’ I whispered. ‘Sorry I couldn’t have kept Chris on the straight and narrow as you wanted me to. Sorry he didn’t turn out to be the man you wanted him to be. I think you’d have liked your great grandson though. I know he’d have liked you.’ I swallowed the lump in my throat at the thought of all she’d given up for her beloved Chris and his future. I remembered her words: It was too late to paint the roses and the sea and all the other beautiful things…. But she did have a little time to paint, I told myself; at least she had a tiny slice of what should have been her life. And she loved Chris very much so I was sure that she’d considered her sacrifice worthwhile.
I stood up and brushed the dust from my jeans. ‘God bless you, Cecily,’ I whispered. ‘Maybe Jamie will repay what you gave up one day. I wish you could have known him.’
I descended the alleyway and returned to the harbour. I treated myself to a cream tea at one of the cafes and sat at a table outside, shading my eyes to scan the horizon, slightly anxious for the return of the fishing boat. Half an hour went by and the sun began to go down then suddenly there it was, scudding through the water, its outboard motor chugging and Jamie waving to me from the stern. I stood up and walked down to meet them.
The fisherman beached the boat and jumped over the side in his big fisherman’s boots, lifting Jamie out as though he was a mere feather and setting him down on the hard dry sand. He untied Toffee’s lead and lifted him out next and the little dog ran madly around the beach, happy to be free again.
‘Mum! We caught ever so many fishes!’ Jamie told me excitedly. ‘And Mr Tregorran says I can take some home for our tea.’
I laughed. ‘Has he been good?’ I asked.
The fisherman grinned. ‘Good as gold, missus. A born little fisherman you got there and no mistake.’ Reaching into the boat he pulled out a creel of mackerel and handed it to me. I shook my head.
‘Oh no, you’re too generous.’
‘Bless you no!’ he said. ‘Young’un here helped land ’em himself. He’s worked for ’em.’ He winked at me. ‘They’ll be the best fish he’s ever tasted, you see if they ain’t.’
We said goodbye to Mr Tregorran and began to make our way back to the cottage, Jamie proudly carrying his ‘catch’. A winding flight of steps led up to the lane where the cottage was and I bent to pick up Toffee. Ahead of me I heard Jamie’s excited cry as he rounded the bend.
‘Mum, Mum! Look who’s here!’ Dropping his fish he leapt up the last two steps and straight into the arms of the man waiting outside the cottage door. ‘It’s great here, Dad, but even better now that you’re here. I wish you could have come with us.’
Ian looked at me over Jamie’s head and the expression in his eyes made my heart miss a beat. I put Toffee down and the little dog ran to Ian too, his tail wagging furiously. I bent to pick up the creel of mackerel.
‘Jamie, take your fish through to the kitchen and give Toffee a drink of water,’ I said. ‘He must be parched.’ Reluctantly Jamie took the fish and called to Toffee who followed him into the cottage. I looked at Ian.
‘Hello.’
‘Hi. Jamie looks happy. It seems your idea was a roaring success.’
‘He’s had the time of his life. He’s been out in a fishing boat this afternoon – hence the fish. Apparently he—’
‘Elaine….’ He took two steps towards me and grasped my shoulders. ‘I couldn’t stay away any longer. I’ve missed you so much.’
‘Missed me – or Jamie?’
‘Both of you, of course. As you said, you come as a package and thank God for that. I can’t imagine life without the two of you. I can’t function properly without you and Jamie. If there was ever any doubt this week has proved it.’
I looked up into his eyes. ‘So, does that mean…?’
‘It means that I love you and nothing is going to change that. I never stopped. I was just terrified that you’d stopped loving me.’
‘I’m so sorry I hurt you,’ I whispered. ‘More sorry than I could ever say. And – what happened had nothing to do with not loving you – not for a second.’ I slipped my arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘Thank you for coming, Ian,’ I whispered. ‘And for forgiving me.’
He placed a finger against my lips. ‘Let’s not talk about
forgiving.’
‘You’ve made the day perfect. I promise I’ll do my best to make it up to you.’
He looked at me. ‘Am I mistaken or did I hear Jamie call me Dad?’
I smiled. ‘He did, and he’s already told me that you’re the only dad he’s ever wanted.’
Jamie appeared in the doorway, glaring at us indignantly. ‘Are you two coming in or what?’ he demanded. ‘I’m hungry and there’s fish to cook.’
Laughing, Ian put an arm round my waist. ‘All right, we’re coming.’
As we all sat at supper Jamie looked anxiously at Ian. ‘It’s great that you’re here, but we don’t have to go home tomorrow, do we? We’re supposed to be staying till Saturday.’
Ian looked at me. ‘Well, I daresay I could stay on for another couple of days.’
‘Wow, wicked!’ Jamie grinned. ‘There’s so much I want to show you, the beach and the harbour and the fishing boats. Did you know that there are real jewels on the beach? I’ve got some. They only need polishing. I’ll show them to you after tea, Dad – it’s okay to call you Dad now, isn’t it?
Ian laughed. ‘You bet it is!’
‘There is just one small snag,’ I said, glancing at him.
‘What’s that?’
‘There are only two bedrooms here in the cottage. No spare room.’
Under the table Ian’s hand reached for mine and his eyes danced as they looked into mine. ‘Is that so? Oh dear. Well, I suppose we’ll just have to manage, won’t we?’
By the Same Author
Too Late to Paint the Roses Page 25