Too Late to Paint the Roses

by Jeanne Whitmee

  He was waiting for me as usual but this time the lounge bar of the Meadwell Club was busy. His hand closed around my upper arm as he said,

  ‘We can’t talk in here. Come up to my room.’ Seeing my hesitation he added quickly. ‘No strings, Elaine. All I’m after is a modicum of privacy.’

  ‘Of course.’ I followed him into the lift, my heart bumping against my ribs as we walked along the corridor together. As he slipped the key into the lock and opened the door I was relieved to see that it was a suite. The room we entered was furnished with two comfortable armchairs, a settee, a low table and TV. An open door to my right revealed a bedroom and en-suite bathroom. As he switched on the light and crossed the room to close the window I stood awkwardly by the door. He turned and saw me.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Elaine, you look like a scared rabbit!’

  ‘Don’t be absurd.’ I took off my coat and sat down on the settee. ‘I haven’t got long,’ I said looking at my watch. ‘I have to be back for nine.’

  He frowned. ‘Nine? What are you – a slave?’

  ‘I’m a wife and mother,’ I told him. ‘It carries responsibilities.’

  ‘Surely you’re entitled to some time of your own?’

  ‘Why are we here, Chris?’ I asked. ‘Just what is this really all about?’

  ‘You know what it’s about. I want you to come to Sorrento, to the villa for a few days.’

  ‘For what exactly?’

  ‘For old times’ sake, I suppose.’ He threw out his hands helplessly. ‘Does it have to be for anything? We’re a couple of adults – old friends. Old flames if you like. Is it wrong to want to spend some time together?’

  ‘No.’

  He looked at me. ‘So what’s the problem?’

  I shrugged helplessly.

  ‘So – are you coming?

  I sat for a moment looking down at my hands.

  He laughed. ‘You’re hidebound by convention, is that it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Would you like some coffee, or a drink?’ Without waiting for my reply he lifted the telephone and asked for room service, ordering a pot of coffee and two brandies, as he replaced the receiver he turned to smile at me.

  ‘Perhaps a brandy will help to relax you.’ He joined me on the settee. ‘Why can’t you be honest with me, Elaine? Just what are you afraid of? Can’t you trust me or could it be that you don’t trust yourself?’

  I stood up. ‘If you want the truth, I wish I hadn’t met you again, Chris. I think it would be madness to spend time together in Italy. I’ve made up my mind. I’m not coming. In fact this evening must be the last time we see one another. You have to promise not to get in touch again. I—’ I was interrupted by a knock on the door. Chris got up to open it and took the tray of drinks. Coming back into the room he put the tray down on the table.

  ‘At least help me drink this before you go,’ he said with a wry smile at me.

  In silence I poured the coffee while Chris took up the two brandy glasses and handed one to me. ‘What shall we drink to?’ he asked as he raised his glass. ‘From where I’m sitting it looks as if there isn’t much left to toast.’

  I swallowed my brandy and felt its warmth course through my veins making me instantly calmer. ‘We can drink to your success,’ I said. ‘You have everything going for you; a new TV contract in the offing and I’m sure you’ll soon get over that writers’ block thing and be on the way to a new book.’

  For a long moment he looked at me then he put his glass down and sat back on the settee beside me. ‘Look, time to put the cards on the table. We both know that this is more than two old friends taking some time out, don’t we?’

  I nodded.

  He touched my hand. ‘I wish you knew just how much I’d give to be able to turn back the clock,’ he said softly. ‘I should never have sent you away. Believe me I’ve suffered for it ever since.’

  Something inside me tightened. ‘You don’t mean that. Look at the success you’ve made of your writing. You were right to be single minded.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t. Deep down I think I knew it even then. I’d give anything to have that time back again. I realize now that with you beside me I could have been a better writer – probably made it in half the time. Seeing you now, mature and sophisticated, even lovelier than before, makes me realize what I’ve missed out on. Meeting again, it’s as though fate is offering us a second chance. We can’t just turn our backs on it.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ I argued. ‘Things always seem rosy looking back. You might see our meeting again as a second chance but for me it’s too late – way too late.’

  ‘How do you know until you give it a chance?’ he said urgently. ‘Right away from here – just you and me. Time to discover the truth – what we might have had, and could have again.’

  ‘It’s not what I want, Chris. I’m happy with what I have.’

  ‘You think you are, but how can you know for sure?’

  ‘It’s not just me I’m thinking of. So many other people would be hurt.’

  ‘Sometimes we have to think of ourselves. When was the last time you put yourself first, Elaine?’

  I stood up. ‘I can’t listen to any more.’

  He stood to face me. ‘Elaine! Stop panicking. It only proves to me that you feel the same as I do. You’re in denial. Admit it!’ He pulled me to him and kissed me hard. Shocked, I resisted but he held me even closer until at last I felt as though the years had slipped away and we were back in those first heady days of first love. My mouth softened under his and my body relaxed against him.

  ‘Darling, Elaine,’ he whispered against my hair. ‘I never stopped loving you. It’s the truth and I believe you feel the same.’ He drew back his head to look down at me. ‘Say you’ll come to Italy – please! Just tell me the date and I’ll send you your plane ticket. If it doesn’t work out you can come home and no harm done. If it does….’

  ‘If it does?’ I looked into his eyes.

  ‘Let’s take it a step at a time,’ he said. ‘Just for now say you’ll come. We owe it to ourselves – to each other.’

  Amanda left for her break with Janet the following week and the builders moved in to install her en-suite. It was surprising the difference her absence made to the atmosphere in the house. In spite of the noise and mess the builders made the atmosphere was much calmer and less tense. I found myself wishing that the break could last for more than a week, but when Janet looked in at Mary’s a couple of days later it was clear that she’d already had enough.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind but she takes over,’ she complained as the three of us shared a coffee break. ‘She has an absolute genius for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s almost as though she does it on purpose.’

  ‘Like hogging the bathroom when you’re dying for a nice long soak?’ I suggested.

  Janet nodded. ‘Or preparing one of her complicated meals in the kitchen when you want to prepare your supper,’ she said. ‘And why is it that she uses every pan you possess and yet never seems to feel the need to wash them up afterwards?’

  I would have laughed except that I was already guessing with dismay that Janet’s invitation was not likely to be a regular event.

  ‘Unfortunately she’s not likely to change at her age,’ I mused.

  Janet laughed. ‘You can say that again!’ She looked at me. ‘I hear you’re going away for a few days shortly,’ she said. ‘Do you need any help with the boys while you’re away?’

  I found myself blushing; feeling as guilty as though I was abandoning them. ‘I’m sure they’ll manage for five days,’ I said. ‘Ian and Jamie are going to Cardiff for a music summer school in August but the dates didn’t fit in with our schedule or I’d have taken my break at the same time.’

  Janet looked at Mary. ‘Oh, that’s a shame. Surely you and I could manage on our own for a few days, couldn’t we?’

  ‘I’ve already booked,’ I said hastily, feeling my cheeks redden. ‘But thanks for offerin
g, Janet.’

  ‘How is the building work going?’ Mary asked.

  We talked about Amanda’s en-suite for a few minutes but my mind was already on the approaching five days in Italy. As the time grew closer I found myself becoming more and more nervous and doubtful about it. I’d tried to fool myself into believing that I needed to go to lay the ghost of my relationship with Chris to rest once and for all, but in my heart I knew it wasn’t as simple as that. As yet he had no idea that Jamie was his son. Was I going to tell him or not? Ian’s adoption of Jamie was still going through. The legal proceedings took time and as yet there had been no notification of a court hearing, but it couldn’t be that far off. When we’d first applied and completed all the necessary forms we had discovered that if the biological father was absent and could not be found his agreement to the adoption was not necessary. It hadn’t been a problem at the time but now things were different. Now that I was in touch with Jamie’s father again was I breaking the law by not saying so? I pushed it all to the back of my mind, telling myself there was no need to do anything about it yet. But two days before school broke up for the summer holidays – and three days before I was due to fly to Italy – Ian received a letter. He looked up at me across the breakfast table with a delighted grin.

  ‘We’ve got a date for the adoption hearing,’ He said, making my heart turn a somersault. ‘It’s September 1st. We’ll get it in just before we go back to school. That’s great, isn’t it?’ He looked across the table at Jamie who beamed back.

  ‘Hey, wicked!’

  They both looked at me.

  ‘That’s great,’ I tried hard to sound enthusiastic. It seemed we’d arrived at a crossroads.

  ‘It says to expect a further visit from a social worker before that date,’ Ian went on.

  My heart sank. What questions would we be asked that we hadn’t already answered? If I were to be asked the crucial one, how would I answer it?

  Since Amanda had been back from her visit with Janet she had done nothing but find fault. To begin with she’d been pleased with her new en-suite facilities then she had decided that it cut down her living space more than she’d expected. She complained that her furniture looked cramped and the en-suite cubicle, which was in the corner nearest the kitchen, was in the wrong place. We explained that it was necessary to choose this location because of the plumbing but she refused to see the logic of this. She couldn’t get used to the controls. To begin with the shower was too powerful then it was too hot – too cold. She even accused me of deliberately turning on the kitchen taps to disrupt her morning toilette. It seemed that every time I walked through the hall her door would open and I would hear her directing a newly thought-up complaint at me. I began to hear her shrilly protesting voice in my sleep.

  On the evening before my departure the inter-schools concert was to take place. I’d been packing, trying to decide what to take and how many clothes I would need for five days. At breakfast Jamie was all nerves and excitement.

  ‘You won’t sit in the front row, Mum, will you?’

  I looked up. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’ll see you and it’ll put me off.’

  ‘Oh! Thanks a lot.’

  ‘No – you know what I mean.’

  ‘Would you like me to wear a bag over my head?’

  Ian came through to the kitchen zipping up his briefcase. Catching the gist of the conversation he said. ‘Come on, Elaine, you know what he means. Having a close family member with their eyes boring into you is really distracting.’

  Hurt, I stood up and began to clear the table. ‘Perhaps it would be better if I didn’t come at all,’ Immediately, I regretted the remark as I saw the look on Jamie’s face.

  ‘Oh, Mum, I didn’t mean I didn’t want you to come at all.’

  Ian shot me a reproving look. ‘Of course Mum’s coming. Come on Jamie, I’ll drop you off but we’d better get going or we’ll both be late.’

  Regretting my bad mood I decided to go after them. Dumping the tray of breakfast dishes on the draining board I went through to the hall. Amanda was standing by the open doorway reading a letter she’d just received from the postman.

  ‘Have they gone?’ I asked her.

  She looked up distractedly. ‘Gone – who?’

  ‘Ian and Jamie. I wanted to….’ At that moment Toffee came racing down the stairs, heading straight for the open door. I called out, ‘Amanda! Quick – Toffee!’ She looked vaguely at me then at the dog. ‘The door, Amanda!’ I screamed. ‘Stop him!’ But it was too late. Toffee’s paws skittered on the wooden floor as he paused briefly in the doorway then in an instant he was through it, leaving Amanda gazing open-mouthed at me.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! Why couldn’t you close the—’ Before I could finish my sentence there was a screech of brakes in the road outside followed by a heart-stopping yelp of pain.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Dad stood on the stairs looking at me as I stood transfixed with horror. Recovering, I pushed past a stunned Amanda and rushed out of the house. A small red car had stopped at the kerbside and a young woman was bending over Toffee’s small body as he lay ominously still in the road. As I ran out, my heart in my mouth, the driver looked up at me, her face white.

  ‘Is it your dog? I’m so sorry. He just ran straight under my wheels. I didn’t have a hope of not hitting him.’

  Without answering I bent down. Dad was at my side now, on his knees, his hand on Toffee’s chest.

  ‘He’s alive,’ he said, looking at me. ‘But that hind leg looks broken to me and he may have internal injuries.’ He looked up at the driver. ‘Did you actually run over him?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. He sort of bounced off my front wheel. Oh dear, I’m so sorry. Can I help – take you to a vet or something?’

  Dad looked at me. ‘Get me a blanket or something to wrap him in. I’ll take him. You go inside. I’ll ring you as soon as I know anything.’

  I pulled off my cardigan. ‘Here, wrap him in this.’

  I watched helplessly as they drove off together then went back into the house. Amanda stood where I had left her in the hall, the letter still in her hand. She looked at me.

  ‘Is it dead?’

  I felt anger writhing inside me like a venomous snake. ‘This is all your fault, you stupid old cow!’ I yelled at her. ‘Why couldn’t you shut the door when I asked you? And for your information Toffee is Jamie’s dog – not an it! If he’s not dead it’s no thanks to you.’

  ‘Don’t take that tone with me….’ she broke off and took a step backwards, seeing the look on my face.

  ‘Get out!’ I hissed at her. ‘Get out before I – I do something I’ll regret!’

  As she scuttled into her room and closed the door Cleo came through from the kitchen and took my arm. ‘Come through and let me make you a strong cuppa, love,’ she said. ‘You’ve had a nasty shock.’

  Suddenly a dam broke somewhere inside me. I felt as though I was being punished. I’d lashed out at Amanda but really it was my fault. I’d been sharp with Jamie and bitchy to Ian this morning and I’d been planning to betray them both. Now this had happened. What kind of person was I turning into? At that moment I hated myself. Tears welled up and poured down my cheeks. Italy was out of the question now. I couldn’t possibly leave Jamie when his beloved dog had been run over. What on earth would he do if Toffee died?

  ‘There, there, love.’ Cleo put her arms round me and hugged me. ‘Don’t worry. He might be all right. Come and sit down. Let’s hope for the best – yeah?’

  Fourteen

  Cleo made me a strong cup of tea, generously laced with brandy from a bottle she found in the pantry. It tasted vile but I drank it down quickly and felt better for it. Half an hour went by without a phone call from Dad at the vet’s. I went upstairs and sent Chris a text.

  Unable to join you due to a family crisis. Please do not reply – E.

  Ten minutes later as I was coming downstairs the telephone in the hall rang
. I snatched up the receiver. ‘Dad?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me, and don’t worry, it’s good news,’ he said, putting my mind instantly at ease. ‘The vet has X-rayed Toffee and there are no internal injuries, thank God. But he’s badly shocked, poor little chap and his hind leg is broken in two places. The vet is setting it this afternoon and they’ll keep him in overnight under sedation to give the leg a chance.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness!’ Suddenly I remembered Jamie and the concert. ‘We can’t let Jamie know, Dad,’ I said. ‘We’ll have to keep it from him somehow, at least until the concert is over. He’s going to be devastated.’

  ‘I know. Don’t worry, leave it with me. I’ll think of something.’

  ‘Was the girl all right?’ I asked. ‘The driver of the car.’

  ‘Poor girl, she was so upset,’ Dad said. ‘She’s insisting on paying the vet’s fee.’

  ‘Oh no!’ I said determinedly. ‘Someone else is going to be paying that; the person who’s really responsible.’

  I spent the afternoon unpacking and putting my clothes away. Deep inside I felt nothing but relief. I’d never quite believed I would go to Italy anyway and now I couldn’t help feeling that I’d been held back from the brink of something disastrous. Fate had stepped in and stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my life.

  When Jamie and Ian came home that afternoon Jamie immediately began looking round for Toffee. Dad was ready with a white lie.

  ‘I let your Auntie Janet take him home for the afternoon,’ he said. ‘Poor old Brownie has been a bit off colour and she thought Toffee might cheer him up.’

  Jamie appeared to be satisfied and went off to get ready for the concert. The four of us, Dad, Mary, Janet and I, chose seats halfway back in the hall and settled down to wait for the concert to begin. About five minutes before the start my phone beeped. I fished for it in my bag and saw that it was a text from Chris. I glanced at it surreptitiously.