by Janet Woods
‘I inherited the skirting board with all the dust,’ she protested, glancing at the bucket of filthy water.
‘You should have dusted if off before you started.’ Giving the wall a final swipe with his sponge he slid down the ladder and joined her. ‘If you’d done it properly in the first place you wouldn’t have to keep changing the water.’
‘Now you tell me.’
‘I would have thought it was common sense.’ Patrick threw a yellow duster at her, picked up her bucket and headed for the door. ‘I’ll get some clean water whilst you’re doing that. If I can finish this room today, we can sleep in it when your bedroom and the sitting room are being painted.’ He stopped and turned, grinning as he noticed her raised eyebrow. ‘Respectively, of course. The bed’s a bit on the small side for three.’
Ellie’s glance fell on Todd. His interest in washing walls had evaporated marginally faster than hers had. She’d unearthed some crayons and paper. Now he was sprawled in the middle of her aunt’s bed, his tongue actively imitating the lines of the crayon, and absorbed in his drawing.
‘That’s a nice house, Todd.’ Taking his age into account she ignored the crooked walls and concentrated on the subject matter. There was a red car parked in the drive, a man and a child coming up the path, and a woman with yellow hair looking out of the window. A river ran past the house. Clearly visible in the water was the head of a person swimming.
‘Who’s that swimming?’
‘He’s drowning.’ Picking up a blue crayon Todd slashed thick strokes over the swimmer, then pointed at the house. ‘That’s the house Patch and me are going to build. That’s your car, and that’s you.’ He picked up the yellow and added a spider web of a sun in the corner. There was a wary vulnerability in the eyes turned her way. ‘You can have it if you want.’
‘Thank you, Todd.’ Ellie experienced a strong urge to take Todd in her arms and protect him from harm as she gazed at the picture. The drowning man made her feel uneasy. Was it some trauma he’d experienced in the past. A lump rose in her throat and her voice choked with tears. ‘It’s the best present I’ve ever been given. Can you write your name on it?’
‘I don’t know how to write my name.’
‘I’ll show you, then you can practice it underneath.’ Taking up a crayon she wrote his name on a piece of paper, sounding out the letters as she did so. Tongue protruding in concentration Todd followed suit. It didn’t take him long to get the concept of it and he was spelling out the letters across the bottom of the drawing when Patrick returned.
* * * *
‘Look, Patch. I can write my name. Ellie showed me.’
Patrick placed the bucket on the floor. ‘So she did.’ He sounded genuinely amazed as he turned to her. ‘How did you get him to do that in such a short time? I’ve been trying to teach him for ages. Well done, Todd.’
‘I expect you made the same mistake as most adults do. Small letters with a pencil?’ At Patrick’s nod she smiled. ‘That sort of coordination doesn’t come without practice. Thick crayons and large letters are controlled more easily to start with.’ Picking up the drawing she experienced pride at Todd’s successful effort. ‘Doesn’t he go to pre-school?’
‘I never thought about it to be quite honest.’
‘You should. Todd’s bright.’ Ellie glanced at the drawing and resolved to buy a frame for it. ‘He would learn a lot and it would teach him to socialize with other children before he starts school.’ She picked up the duster and took a half-hearted swipe at the skirting board. ‘Besides ... isn’t it a little risky to take a child to work with you?’
‘It would be if I did.’ Patrick’s voice had turned chilly. ‘As it happens, his grandmother looks after him when I’m working. At the moment she’s not well.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’ll pass on your felicitations to her.’
Ellie sighed at the sarcasm in his voice ‘Must you be so prickly, Patrick?
‘I was apologizing for jumping to the wrong conclusion - as well you know.’
‘I know,’ he growled. ‘Your apology made me feel guilty so I reacted. It’s me who should apologize.’
This was a refreshing turn-around. ‘Are you sorry?’
Patrick managed a bit of a smile, but his voice had a grating edge to it. ‘Didn’t I say so? I doubt if your feelings are hurt, but if they are just say the word and I’ll beg your forgiveness on bended knee.’
Ellie laughed as she scrambled to her feet. ‘One ought to record great moments for posterity. Wait until I get my camera, would you.’
Patrick headed for the door. ‘If having a man grovel at your feet is a great moment - forget it. The last time I did that for a women was three years ago.’
‘Wait!’ Dashing after him, Ellie managed to grab his arm and detain him. ‘Why did you have to grovel to a woman?’
In the dim hallway Ellie couldn’t see his expression, but she didn’t need to. The rigidity of his forearm was designed to warn her off. She’d learned from her father that timidity would get a person nowhere.
‘To get what you want from life takes persistence,’ he’d said. ‘Don’t be afraid to step on a few toes, Eloise. Everyone has a weakness. If you find it you can work on it.’
‘Why should that be of interest to you?’
‘It might help me to understand Todd better.’
She knew her shaft had hit the right spot when the breath expelled from his body in one frustrated rush. ‘Why should you want to understand Todd?’
‘Because of the man he mentioned.’
‘What man?’ His eyes became suddenly alert and his voice wary.
‘Todd mentioned he had a mean father once, and this picture he drew ... ?’
‘What about it?’
‘There’s a figure in the river. When I asked Todd about it he said the man was drowning.’
* * * *
‘Hell!’ Taking her by the shoulders Patrick propelled her towards the kitchen. ‘What else did you say to him about it?’
‘I’m not a fool, Patrick.’ Her glance followed his as he gazed out of the window. ‘I’ve worked with disturbed kids for some time now.’
‘You think Todd’s disturbed?’ The blue eyes were intense when he turned back to face her.
‘I think he’s experienced some sort of trauma.’ Ellie picked her words carefully. ‘Generally he’s a happy little boy.’ She reinforced her words with something more positive. ‘From the way he idolizes you I should imagine you’ve worked hard to establish a positive relationship with him. You use reinforcement techniques that are standard text book practice. Where did you learn them?’
‘From the same place you learned yours I should imagine.’ He smiled when she gave a frustrated sigh. ‘Are you always so curious, Eloise?’
Patrick was more astute than she’d expected. The eyes that engaged hers displayed a hint of mockery that somehow diminished her.
She’d only known them for two days, what right did she have to pry into their lives? ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t being nosy. I just don’t want to upset Todd by saying the wrong thing, that’s all.’
‘I wouldn’t like that either.’ A frown slid into the space reserved for it and hovered there. ‘Todd’s had a lot of counseling over the past two years.’
Patrick seemed to be musing out loud.
‘He responds to you, so perhaps it would be of benefit to tell you.’ Taking the drawing from her hand he gazed down at it and a smile chased away his frown. ‘I’ll let his counselor take a look at this and act on her advice.’
Swallowing her disappointment, Ellie managed a smile. She didn’t blame Patrick for being cautious. If Todd were her child she’d act in exactly the same way.
‘In the meantime ...’ The frown settled back in place. ‘I’d be grateful if you didn’t ... encourage him to like you too much.
A chill crept over her. The whole idea was preposterous. ‘What exactly are you saying - that I’ve deliberately set out to
make Todd like me? Why would I want to manipulate him in that way?’
‘That wasn’t what I said.’ He turned and gazed out of the window when the faint beat of a helicopter reached their ears. ‘Todd may need to be reminded that you’re not going to be a permanent fixture in his life.’
It sounded as if he were reminding her of that fact. ‘So you want me to keep him at arms’ length.’ Ellie sent a stream of imaginary daggers into the broad back presented to her as her temper started to simmer. ‘Aren’t you being a little over-protective, Patrick. Todd won’t learn to cope with his emotions if you keep him wrapped in cotton wool.’
‘His mother abandoned him,’ Patrick reminded her savagely, and the face he turned her way was unforgiving. ‘I don’t want him to give his love to another woman and be cheated again. Is that clear?’
It was perfectly clear to Ellie, but Patrick was so caught up in his own hurt that he’d obscured the picture in his own mind. ‘What’s clear is that you don’t want to get involved with another woman. Admit it, Patrick. Todd’s just an excuse.’
Had she really said that? Yes, obviously she had. Apart from his frown becoming thunderous, little sparks of lightning flared in Patrick’s eyes. A pulse leapt into life, and as his jaw tightened Ellie’s heart began to beat like a drum. Louder and louder it became until her ears throbbed and her body seemed to vibrate with it.
* * * *
Deep in Patrick’s eyes was a core of smoldering heat. Ellie wanted to close her eyes but she couldn’t. Drawn into its center she was blinded by its intensity. Patrick was on a destruction course. Unless he controlled what was in him she’d become ashes in his eyes.
The heat from his body seemed to reach out and surround her. Absorbed by the shifting substance of it she experienced the turmoil of his pain and anguish, the power of his anger. Strangely enough she could recognize in him what she’d once been through herself, the moment when the realization of truth penetrated the psyche.
Her words had been a catalyst. Although he might hate her at this moment, instinctively Ellie knew Patrick would eventually benefit. She felt part of him now, an odd empathy that was tautly stretched and not wholly comfortable. The tension between them relaxed so suddenly that Ellie felt like collapsing.
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Ellie’s heart sank at the coldness of his voice. ‘An emotional involvement isn’t on my agenda. My mother provides my son with a steady maternal influence, so his needs are met in that respect.’ His glance went past her as the throbbing noise increased and a grin instantly lit his face. ‘Get your raincoat, Todd. You can come and watched the helicopter land.’
‘And, Ellie too.’
‘Patrick stung her with a look, his lips tightened in annoyance as he strode past her and took Todd’s hand. ‘Ellie hasn’t finished washing the walls yet.’
Ellie wasn’t going to finish washing the walls until Ellie damned well felt like it! Nor was she going to be dismissed in such a fashion. She ignored Patrick’s dirty look, shrugged into her coat and followed them out.
* * * *
For the rest of the morning Todd occupied himself with the play-dough Ellie had ordered from town for him. Patrick had moved on to the next room, leaving her to finish off the wall alone. She’d just finished when Todd came to remind her it was lunchtime.
Her offering of door-step sandwiches brought a raised eyebrow from Patrick. ‘I hope you can rustle up something better for dinner. I won’t have time to cook.’ Opening the dresser drawer he threw a recipe book on the table. ‘Try a simple hotpot, there’s some beef steak in the fridge. You should have time after you’ve washed down your bedroom walls.’
Ellie hadn’t counted on having to wash more than one wall and her expression reflected the fact.
‘Of course, if you’re not up to it.’
‘I’m up to it,’ she snapped, and much to her satisfaction his smug expression disappeared.
‘Don’t overdo it, Ellie. You’re not used to hard physical work.’
She ignored his warning. All he wanted to do was prove his own superiority and rub her background in her face. She would clean the walls if it killed her, and then afterwards, would cook a perfect meal. Cooking couldn’t be too hard. If Patrick could do it then so could she. Her acidic tone caused him to sigh. ‘Don’t you worry about me, Patrick. I’m quite capable of looking after myself.’
‘I’m lost in admiration. I always knew the dumb blonde stereotype was a myth.’ The mocking smile he gave when she rose stiffly to her feet brought a tinge of color to her cheeks.
Ellie tried to think of an equally crushing rejoinder but failed miserably. Let him have the last word, she thought, picking up the bucket and heading for her bedroom. He’d be forced to eat them later on.
* * * *
The bone-numbing tiredness her efforts brought was totally unexpected. Later, as she wearily chopped the meat into cubes, Ellie began to wish she hadn’t been quite so pig-headed. Scruff was practicing his old pals act around her ankles. She dropped him a cube of raw meat and studied the recipe book again, double-checking the list against the ingredients she’d prepared and placed in the pot.
Patrick had been right. It was a simple dish. All she had to do was put the meat in with the gravy and vegetables, stick it in the oven, and then boil some potatoes to go with it.
Distracted by Patrick’s voice calling her she suddenly remembered the tea he’d requested earlier. She hurriedly filled the waiting teapot, added it to the tray she’d set and carried it through to her aunt’s bedroom. The room had been transformed from a dingy cream to a delicate blue.
‘That color’s lovely.’
‘It will be nicer still when the paint’s dried.’ Descending the ladder Patrick managed to whip up a smile. ‘Did you really intend to paint the room red?’
The smile lifted her spirits. She nodded as she advised herself. Flatter the beast. ‘I thought it would match the poppies on the bedspread. I can see now that it would have been a mistake.’
‘And green for the sitting room?’
‘The carpet.’
‘Claustrophobic.’ An eyebrow raised and his voice became unbelieving. ‘This I can’t understand. Why dark blue for your bedroom?’
‘The quilts are white. I thought the contrast would look good together.’
‘It will turn it into a black hole. Dark colors make a room look smaller, light make them seem more spacious. Whenever you plan to redecorate, keep that in mind.’ Patrick smiled again. ‘The colors should flow from one room into the next. It creates harmony.’
Which didn’t say much for the colors he surrounded himself with, she thought. Anyone less harmonious she’d yet to meet. ‘Why didn’t Andrew tell me all of this when we planned it?’
‘Andrew’s an architect. He works from the office and acts as manager in my absence. I had to let the staff go when things got tough. Andrew hasn’t got a clue about colors. He probably agreed with everything you suggested to be on the safe side.’
A finger of guilt stabbed through Ellie. ‘How many staff did you employ?’
‘A permanent salesman come office manager, and two office staff. The rest were sub-contracted when needed.’ He shrugged. ‘If I can keep my head above water I should be able to build things up again. I’m waiting for the outcome of a tender. Andrew’s offered to use his home as collateral should the need arise.’
‘Andrew’s not a partner then?’ A lump formed in Ellie’s throat at Patrick’s negative reply. ‘It must be nice to have a brother who supports you like that.’
‘Andrew’s a nice guy.’ Picking up his cup Patrick gave her a steady look. ‘But I guess you already know that.’
Avoiding his eyes, she handed Todd some biscuits to go with his milk and turned towards the door ‘I must go and get on with dinner.’
‘How’s it going?’
‘I’m following a recipe to the letter, so it should be all right.’ Ignoring his grin she slipped from the room. As soon as the hotpot was in the ove
n and the potatoes peeled she intended to soak her aching body in the bath and make a new women of herself.
* * * *
Refreshed, Ellie smoothed body lotion into her skin before pulling on a comfortable gray track-suit.
The delicious aroma of cooking heartened her as she headed for the kitchen. She put the potatoes on the boil, set the table, then opened a tin of cat food and filled Scruff’s saucer.
‘Kitty, kitty, kitty?’ She spotted Scruff under a chair and clinked a spoon against the dish to coax him out. He opened one eye, then closed it and ignored her. ‘Stay there you awkward mutt,’ she muttered. ‘You’re too fat and lazy anyway.’
Picking up the cook-book she ran her eyes over the recipe again. Deep down lurked a little niggle of unease, as if she’d forgotten something.
It was nerves, she told herself. Patrick was such a good cook, and she wanted everything to go right. If the smell emanating from the oven was anything to go by, she had.
* * * *
Every few minutes her glance went to the clock despite knowing she’d set the timer. Time seemed to drag by. Ten minutes before the meal was due to be cooked Patrick stuck his head around the door. His nose twitched.
‘Something smells nice. Will it be long?’
Ellie glanced at the clock again. ‘Nine and a half minutes.’
Patrick’s slow easy smile warmed her. ‘There’s a bottle on wine in the larder. I’ll open it when I’ve tidied myself up.’
He was really quite a guy when he put some effort into being nice,’ Ellie thought, unable to stop herself returning it. She rose stiffly to her feet when he’d gone. Now the heat from her bath had worn off she was beginning to feel sore. She polished a couple a glasses then started counting off the seconds.
Damn! She’d forgotten to warm the plates. Throwing them into the warming compartment she drained the potatoes, then jumped when the timer rang. ‘Turn the oven off first,’ she told herself, trying not to panic. ‘Then mash the spuds.’
Talking herself through it had a definite calming effect, and when Patrick and Todd arrived, the meal was on the table and ready to serve. Cooking was a cinch if one went about it in the right way, she realized. There was nothing to it.