Too Late to Paint the Roses

by Jeanne Whitmee

  ‘Of course. But don’t forget what that young fellow said yesterday; those other viewers were more than interested, so we shouldn’t hang about too long.’

  Ian was a little more cautious than I’d been. When we laid out Dad’s plan he looked from one to the other and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Do I get a whiff of conspiracy here?’ he asked.

  ‘No!’ I protested. ‘We were passing the end of Wellington Avenue yesterday and I thought Dad might like to see the house, and—’

  He laughed and held up his hand. ‘I’m only joking. I think it’s a great idea in principal. There are just a few things that need to be thought through, though.’

  He pointed out that we’d need to get the vendors to agree to our offer first. Then we’d have to have a survey done to make sure there were no structural problems with the house. He looked at Dad: ‘And if we were to agree to your being joint owner we’d need to have a proper legal agreement drawn up. Then there’s a little matter of furnishing,’ Ian went on. ‘How are we going to fill a house that size without making a sizable hole in the bank balance?’

  ‘That’s not a problem,’ Dad put in. ‘There’s all the furniture from the house in Yorkshire. I was going to have to sell a lot of it anyway.’ He looked at me. ‘I know most of it is old fashioned and might not be the kind of thing you’d choose but it’s all good stuff and—’

  ‘Dad.’ I covered his hand with mine. ‘It’s a wonderful idea.’ I looked at Ian. ‘Isn’t it?’

  He nodded. ‘It’s very generous of you, Ted. All we have to do now is get the house.’

  We discussed our plans for most of the evening, agreeing that the joint purchase of Beaumont House would be the perfect solution to all our problems. Together the three of us decided on the figure we would offer for the house and I was designated to make the telephone call to the agent next morning.

  My mouth was dry as I dialled the number. What if the house had already been sold? I steeled myself for disappointment as I listened to the phone ringing out at the other end.

  ‘Haytor and Blake Estate Agents. Derek speaking, how can I help you?’

  I swallowed hard. ‘Oh, good morning. It’s Mrs Morton. I’m ringing to inquire if Beaumont House is still for sale.’

  Derek told me that an offer had been made but the vendor had turned it down. The prospective buyers were still considering whether to increase their offer. My spirits rose.

  ‘Is it in order for me to inquire what the offer was?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose that information,’ he said. ‘Were you thinking of making an offer yourself?’

  ‘Well – yes.’ I crossed my fingers as I told him the figure that the three of us had decided on.

  There was a pause at the other end and I held my breath. ‘Well, I can tell you that your offer is a better one than the previous buyer made. I’ll telephone the vendor now and ring you back.’

  I worked all morning at Mary’s with my mobile in my pocket but no call came and it wasn’t until I was driving back to the cottage later in the afternoon that the phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I pulled off the road and pulled it out.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Elaine, it’s Dad.’

  ‘Dad! I’m on my way home. Are you all right?’

  ‘Better than all right! That young Derek from the agent’s has just rung. The house is ours, love! The other buyers wouldn’t up their offer so they’ve accepted ours.’

  ‘Oh, Dad. That’s terrific!’ I felt excitement making my heart beat faster.

  ‘I knew you must be on your way but I couldn’t wait to tell you,’ he went on.

  I laughed. ‘I’ll stop off at the supermarket and get something special for dinner,’ I told him. ‘And a bottle of something bubbly to celebrate.’

  Eight

  The work on Beaumont House took a little longer than we anticipated even though the top floor lent itself well for conversion. Dad chose the medium sized room for his bedroom whilst the largest of the three was made into a living room with a small kitchen area. The smallest room converted nicely into a bathroom, making a compact, self-contained flat. Dad went back up to Yorkshire to see the sale of the house through and as soon as it was completed he arranged for the furniture to be driven down to Greencliffe and put into storage until we moved. In the interim he stayed with Mary.

  The day of the move went without a hitch and we were just finishing our takeaway pizza when Mary arrived. She brought a large basket and proceeded to unpack a casserole and one of her famous apple pies.

  ‘You really had no need to be eating that rubbish,’ she said, eyeing the remains of the pizza with disdain.

  I laughed. ‘I wasn’t to know you’d be round with offerings,’ I said. ‘And this was Jamie’s choice.’

  She shook her head. ‘You surely didn’t think I’d let you move house without making sure you were properly fed!’ She looked around. ‘Still, I must say you’ve made a good start. When do you want Ted to move in?’

  ‘As soon as we’ve moved his furniture in,’ I told her. ‘How have the two of you been getting on?’

  She smiled. ‘Just fine. He’s great company. I’m going to miss him when he’s gone, but I know he’s looking forward to moving into his own little flat. Not to mention licking that garden into shape.’

  Dad’s furniture arrived two days later and he chose what he wanted for his flat. I’d already made curtains for the top floor dormer windows and when everything was in place he was delighted with it.

  ‘You know you don’t have to stay up here by yourself all the time, don’t you, Dad,’ I reminded him.

  ‘Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine,’ he assured me, looking out of the window onto the rambling garden below. ‘Anyway, as soon as the spring gets going I intend to be outdoors most of the time.’

  The rest of the furniture was distributed around the rest of the house apart from the huge chintz-covered chesterfield that had been in the sitting room at home. Finally I put it in the kitchen and hung Cecily Harding’s watercolour painting of St Ives harbour above it to make a tranquil corner.

  Jamie had been excited at the prospect of being nearer to his school and only a short walk from Mary’s. He liked his new spacious bedroom on the first floor. He would have the first floor bathroom to himself as the room Ian and I were to occupy had its own en-suite. On the ground floor Ian had chosen the smallest of the three rooms to be his studio whilst the room opposite was to be our living room. That just left what had once been the large dining room unfurnished.

  In a fit of impulsive enthusiasm I decided to invite everyone to spend Christmas with us at Beaumont House. When I mentioned my plan to Ian he was sceptical.

  ‘Are you sure you want all that work?’ he asked. ‘Moving the three of us and Ted was a lot of hard work for you. I was going to suggest spending a quiet Christmas on our own.’

  I brushed his doubts aside. ‘We can’t do that. We all went to Mary’s last year,’ I reminded him. ‘It’s only fair to return the hospitality, especially now that we have the room to do it.’

  ‘Well, all right if you’re sure.’ He frowned. ‘You say “everyone”. Do I take it you’re including Amanda?’

  ‘I can hardly leave her out, can I?’

  He sighed. ‘Don’t say you’ve forgotten how she ruined everything last year. Are you sure you want to risk it?’

  I smiled. ‘She’ll be fine. I think she and I understand one another now,’ I told him. ‘Anyway, she’d be so hurt of we left her out.’

  He shrugged. ‘Just as you please,’ he said. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  It was all arranged. Mary and Janet both accepted my invitation on condition that they were allowed to help with the food. Mary promised to provide home-made Christmas puddings and Janet insisted that she would make and ice a cake.

  I was glad of their offers as we were frantically busy at Mary-Mary in the run-up to Christmas with parties and weddings
. Both Ian and Jamie were busy too with school concerts. Ian introduced his new choir to much acclaim and Jamie played a violin solo in the concert that St Cecilia’s put on. Dad and I sat in the front row at both, Dad bursting with pride at his family’s achievements.

  There had been very little time for Christmas shopping but Ian and I, along with Dad, had discussed the prospect of getting Jamie a puppy. I was adamant that no animal should be left alone for hours on end and Dad happily agreed to take care of the puppy while we were all out, so finally it was decided that Jamie would get his longed-for wish. Janet put us in touch with the woman who had bred Brownie and we learned that she had a litter of puppies which would be ready just before Christmas. Ian and I went along to see them one evening and immediately fell in love with the cute little bundles that tumbled over each other playfully. We decided on a brown and white male pup that looked very much like Brownie, knowing that would be Jamie’s choice.

  I went round to Ocean Heights to invite Amanda personally. She seemed surprised to see me.

  ‘I’ve been wondering how you were getting on. I haven’t seen you since the wedding,’ she said pointedly as she led the way through to her living room.

  I explained about my mother’s sudden death and how we’d been busy moving house as well as moving Dad down from Yorkshire. ‘And so now that we’re in we’d like everyone to come and help us housewarm our new home by spending Christmas with us at Beaumont House,’ I finished.

  ‘It’s in Wellington Avenue, you say?’ she said. ‘I know that area; very salubrious. But aren’t those houses rather big for the three of you?’

  ‘Would have been, yes, but we’ve converted the top floor of the house as a self contained flat for Dad.’

  ‘Your father is moving in with you?’ She looked taken aback. ‘Well, that’s extremely generous of you. Are you sure poor Ian isn’t stretching himself financially?’

  I felt a prickle of resentment. ‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘I do contribute to all our expenses myself and anyway, Dad is sharing all the costs with us. He’s sold his house in Yorkshire and brought all the furniture down to help furnish the place. We couldn’t have done it without him.’

  ‘I see. Well I hope you don’t live to regret your decision,’ she said, the corners of her mouth drooping disapprovingly. ‘Sharing your home with relatives is full of pitfalls.’

  ‘It isn’t exactly sharing the house,’ I said. ‘As I said, Dad has the top floor to himself. He’s taking over the garden too, which will be a great help.’

  ‘Oh well, if you say so.’ She gave a brittle little laugh. ‘Anyway, it’s nothing to do with me, is it? Ian must feel he’s got his priorities right and I’m sure he gets along famously with his new father-in-law – so far.’

  I ignored the barb. ‘So we’d like you to join us for Christmas,’ I said. ‘That is if you’ve no other plans, of course.’

  ‘I’ve none to speak of – although I’ve had lots of invitations, of course,’ she added hurriedly. She sighed resignedly. ‘I suppose Janet will be there.’

  ‘Yes. She’s making the Christmas cake,’ I told her. ‘Mary is making the puddings.’

  She raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Is that a hint that you want me to contribute too?’

  ‘Not at all, though if you want to….’

  ‘I’ll have to think about it,’ she said. ‘Perhaps a few mince pies. I’ve a very light hand with pastry. It’s my one culinary talent, if I do say so myself.’ She looked at me. ‘Janet would tell you if she could ever bring herself to pay me a compliment.’

  As I drove away from Ocean Heights I felt weighed down by misgivings. Had I had done the right thing in insisting on inviting Amanda to share Christmas with us again? If it all went pear shaped it would be my fault. I’d thought after our last meeting that she and I had built a rapport but today she seemed full of resentment again.

  I was determined to make our first Christmas at Beaumont House special. Ian and Jamie helped me decorate the house with evergreens and we bought a large Christmas tree to stand in the hall, dressing it with coloured baubles and lights. On Christmas morning Ian wakened me with a tray of tea and a small parcel wrapped in red holly-sprigged paper. We had decided not to buy each other presents this year as we’d had all the expense of moving, but I had secretly bought him a pair of soft leather driving gloves. Obviously he had ignored our decision too. Berating him, I tore off the paper and found a box containing a pretty silver heart-shaped locket. Inside were photographs of Jamie and Ian. I threw my arms around him.

  ‘Thank you, darling. I love it, but we promised not to.’ I reached under my pillow I brought out the gloves, wrapped in Christmassy paper. He laughed.

  ‘The words pot and kettle come to mind!’ He tore off the paper. ‘Wow, driving gloves! Just what I need. Aren’t you clever!’

  ‘We’re going to be really happy here,’ I told him as we hugged each other. ‘I just know it. There’s something about this house.’

  We’d collected the puppy late the previous evening, after Jamie was in bed and Dad had agreed to have him upstairs in the flat with him until morning. When I went up to the flat with a cup of tea I wasn’t really surprised to find the puppy curled up beside him on the bed.

  ‘You’re already getting him into bad habits,’ I scolded him.

  He reached out a hand to fondle the curly little head. ‘He missed his mum and his brothers and sisters,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t let him cry himself to sleep, could I?’

  ‘Well, I think it’s time he met his new master,’ I said. ‘So drink up your tea and come down to witness the introductions.’

  Creeping into Jamie’s room we put the puppy on his bed and then wakened him.

  ‘Happy Christmas, Jamie. Here’s someone to see you.’

  He sat up, rubbing his eyes and then he caught sight of the puppy rummaging among the pile of presents at the end of his bed. He stared round-eyed at the puppy and then at me.

  ‘Wow! Is he really for me?’

  ‘He’s your Christmas present from Ian and me,’ I told him. ‘He’s one of Brownie’s great nephews. What are you going to call him?’

  Very carefully Jamie reached out to pick up the tiny bundle. The puppy licked him all over his face which made him laugh. ‘I think he likes me.’ He examined him carefully. ‘I’ll call him Toffee,’ he said, ‘’Cause he’s soft and sweet.’

  Toffee helped Jamie to open his other present, tearing up the paper and rolling joyfully in the shreds.

  I found that Dad was almost as excited as Jamie. ‘We’re going to have to train him,’ he explained. ‘First he needs to know that he has to go out in the garden when he needs a wee, then he’ll have to learn how to walk on a collar and lead. After that we might teach him a few tricks.’ He looked hopefully at his grandson. ‘What do you reckon lad? Would you like me to help?’

  ‘Yes please, Granddad.’

  Ian and I left them to it, going back to our room to shower and dress. ‘Well, I think you could safely say that that was one present that was a success,’ I said.

  Ian laughed. ‘Who for – Jamie or Ted?’

  Mary and Janet arrived together bearing puddings and cake. By the time they appeared I’d laid the table and put the turkey into the oven. Ian had helped me prepare all the vegetables the night before so there wasn’t much left to do. We’d decided to eat in the kitchen. There was plenty of room round the big round table that Dad had brought from Yorkshire and the warmth from the Aga made it cosy and welcoming. Mary had brought a lovely table decoration that she’d made herself: holly with plenty of red berries surrounding a fat red candle. It set off the table to perfection. Janet brought crackers and two bottles of champagne and from the boot of the car she pulled out the small basket that Brownie had slept in as a puppy along with a brand new doggie blanket.

  ‘For the newest addition to the family,’ she said as she handed them to Jamie.

  I made coffee for us all and then Ian set off to collect Amanda. When she arrived
I took all three women for a tour of the house. Mary and Janet expressed their delight but Amanda was sceptical.

  ‘I still think it’s very large for the three of you, even if your father is sharing it with you,’ she said. ‘And if you don’t mind me asking, why are we eating in the kitchen?’

  Janet shot her a warning look but I smiled, determined not to allow myself to be ruffled by her disparaging remarks.

  ‘This is the original dining room,’ I said opening the door. ‘But as you can see it’s not furnished at the moment. That’s something we’ll get around to eventually.’

  Amanda walked into the large room which overlooked the garden. ‘Mmm, this is nice,’ she said, looking round. ‘It needs decorating, of course, but it could be made very pleasant.’

  ‘We had thought of letting it,’ I said. ‘But that will have to be a last resort. It’s lovely having Dad living upstairs but sharing our home with a complete stranger is another matter.’

  Christmas lunch went well. The turkey was succulent and Mary’s pudding was delicious. Afterwards we all relaxed with our coffee in the living room, except Jamie who played on the floor with Toffee.

  ‘Can I take him for a walk?’ he asked.

  ‘Not until he’s had all his jabs at the vet’s,’ Dad told him. ‘We don’t want him catching anything nasty, do we? Meantime he can play in the garden, once I’ve made sure all the fences are secure and he can’t get out and wander away.’

  Everyone took turns to cuddle the puppy except Amanda who recoiled whenever he went near her. ‘Why on earth you wanted to saddle yourself with an animal I can’t think,’ she said to me. ‘Bringing dirt and germs into the house.’ She looked at Janet. ‘Speaking of which, where is your dog today?’

  ‘I didn’t bring him because of the puppy,’ Janet explained. ‘I thought it best not to crowd the poor little thing.’

  Jamie looked guilty. ‘Oh, poor old Brownie, all on his own on Christmas Day. We’ll have to introduce him to Toffee. I bet they’ll be really good friends.’