Too Late to Paint the Roses

by Jeanne Whitmee

  ‘Complications?’

  ‘How many other people know about this?’

  ‘Only three: my husband, my father and my business partner.’

  ‘They know his new name, and that you’ve found him again?’

  ‘No. It’s – been difficult,’ I told her. ‘My business partner knows about it,’ I added hurriedly. ‘But she would never—’

  ‘You can never be absolutely sure. Circumstances change.’ She looked at me. ‘What is it you’re worrying about, Elaine? Are you afraid he might want to assume his role as a father – become part of your son’s life?’

  I felt a chill clutch my heart. ‘To tell you the truth I have no idea,’ I confessed. ‘He’s a very different person from the man I once knew. We were just students then. He has a busy and successful career now, so probably not.’

  ‘Mmm, it’s difficult.’ She paused for a moment. ‘As you say that he has changed his name it’s understandable that so far he has been untraceable, but now that you’ve renewed your acquaintance it alters things.’

  ‘Is it possible to leave things as they are? After all, he’s still completely unaware that he’s Jamie’s father.’

  ‘But there will always be a possibility that he could find out,’ she said. ‘That could make life very difficult for you. Could you live with that likelihood? Then there is Jamie himself to consider. As he grows to manhood he might want to know who his biological father is.’

  I shook my head. It was even more complicated than I had envisaged. ‘Will this delay things?’ I asked. ‘Can the hearing still go ahead on September 1st?’

  ‘It rather depends on what you decide to do,’ she said. ‘You will need to contact me by the end of next week. I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer than that for your decision.’

  ‘I understand.’ I decided to throw myself on her mercy. ‘Please, what do you advise?’

  She began to collect her briefcase and handbag together. ‘I advise you to talk to your husband. I really feel that whatever you decide must be mutual.’ She took a notebook from her briefcase and jotted down a number. ‘This is my mobile number,’ she said, tearing out the page and handing it to me. ‘I won’t do anything about the hearing until I hear from you.’ She stood up and held out her hand. ‘Goodbye – and good luck, Mrs Morton.’

  ‘Goodbye and thank you.’ I saw Mrs Saunders out and went back to the kitchen. I knew she was right; I owed it to Ian to tell him about Chris and talk through what we should do – and the sooner, the better.

  Fifteen

  I sent Chris a text to say that I would visit him at his London flat on the following Friday, arriving some time during the morning. He replied saying that he would put a key to his flat in the post for me as he might be delayed until late afternoon. Having burned my bridges I steeled myself to talk to Ian – something I looked forward to with dread.

  I chose a time when I knew we would not be interrupted, after Jamie was in bed. Ian had a late pupil and came through to the kitchen as I was making a bedtime drink. He looked happy and relaxed and my heart sank at the thought of what I was about to tell him.

  ‘I need to talk to you, Ian,’ I said as I carried the tray through to the breakfast room. ‘There’s something I have to tell you – something important.’

  He looked at me. ‘That sounds ominous. What’s wrong?’

  ‘You remember when Mary and I catered for the opening of the new library?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The opening ceremony was done by the author, Jake Kenning.’

  He shrugged. ‘If you say so. Where is this leading, Elaine?’

  ‘Jake Kenning turned out to be Chris Harding,’ I told him. ‘Jamie’s biological father.’

  For a moment he looked stunned. ‘You never mentioned it. So – did he recognize you? What happened?’

  ‘I met him once or twice for a drink. I should have told you. I wish I had.’

  He held up his hand. ‘Wait a minute. You say you met him? Just what are you trying to tell me?’

  ‘He asked me to meet him that day at the library,’ I told him. ‘I never meant for it to go on….’

  ‘But it did?’

  ‘He was very insistent. I saw him three times altogether.’

  ‘Are you saying you’ve been having an affair?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Then what? Why did you keep on seeing him if it wasn’t…?’

  ‘I wish I knew, Ian.’ I shook my head. ‘I suppose it had something to do with the fact that we once shared something but I promise you, nothing happened.’

  He paused for a moment. ‘You say you shared something – like Jamie for instance. I can’t get my head round this, Elaine. You’ve told him that he has a son and he wants—’

  ‘No, no!’ The hurt expression on his face tore at my heart. How could I have been so stupid, so cruel and naive? Suddenly I knew that if I lost Ian I’d have lost everything. And even worse – so would Jamie. ‘Chris has never been a part of Jamie’s life. You know that,’ I reminded him. ‘I regret seeing him again. I know it was wrong. I should have told you.’

  ‘So why are you telling me now? Are you saying that you still have feelings for him – that it isn’t over between you?’

  ‘Of course I’m not.’

  ‘Then what?’ He got up and began to pace the room. ‘For God’s sake, Elaine, why don’t you just come out with it? What’s going on?’

  ‘I want to tell you the truth, Ian; all of it. It wasn’t an affair. I told you, nothing happened, but …’ I licked my dry lips. ‘I admit that it could have gone further. He invited me to go and stay at his villa in Italy.’

  He swung round. ‘Your break in Italy! You were planning to spend it with him?’

  ‘But I didn’t go, Ian.’

  ‘You didn’t go because of Toffee’s accident. If it hadn’t been for that….’

  ‘That only brought me to my senses. I think I must have been a little crazy even to have contemplated it. I’m not making excuses but – we haven’t been very close for some time; ever since you took up the teaching post. You seem so wrapped up in your music.’

  ‘Oh, I see, so now it’s my fault, is it?’

  ‘Of course not. You’re my world, Ian, you and Jamie; though lately it seems as though even Jamie’s putting music first too. I seem to be slipping further and further into the background.’

  ‘That’s rubbish and you know it!’

  ‘Do I? All I really know at this moment is that I must have been mad to put everything I have in jeopardy. I’m sorry.’

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘That’s not all though, Ian,’ I went on. ‘The trouble is that Chris suddenly putting in an appearance again affects the adoption. Now that I know that he is no longer untraceable it means that one of the facts we entered on the original forms is no longer applicable.’

  ‘Oh.’ Taken aback, he sat down. ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘I talked to Mrs Saunders, the social worker about it. Her advice is that Chris should be told about Jamie.’

  ‘That’s it then, isn’t it?’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘The adoption won’t be possible.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He won’t agree to give up his son. Why should he?’

  ‘He’s a complete stranger to Jamie.’ I reached out a hand to him. ‘Jamie is more your son than his,’ I told him. ‘You’ve been a father to him ever since he was five years old. When I see Chris I’ll make it clear that this is what we all want.’

  He looked up at me sharply. ‘You will? Shouldn’t that be me?’

  ‘I’d rather do this on my own, Ian.’

  ‘Why? Is there something else you’re not telling me?’

  ‘I promise I’ve told you everything, Ian. But I feel this is something I have to do myself.’

  He paused for a long moment. ‘Tell me the truth; if it hadn’t been for the adoption problem would you have told me about this?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘You want me to b
e completely honest?’

  ‘Naturally.’

  I looked into his eyes. ‘I might not have found the courage,’ I said. ‘I already knew I’d made a bad mistake. I might just have let it go at that.’

  He sighed. ‘Well, thanks for being truthful – even if it does hurt.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ian,’ I said. ‘So sorry, and I do love you.’ I reached out my hands to him but he turned away.

  ‘So when are you planning to see – Harding, or whatever he calls himself?’ He turned towards me and the look in his eyes made me cringe. ‘I take it you’ve already arranged a meeting.’

  ‘Next Friday.’

  ‘And how can I be sure you’ll come back? How do I know you won’t let him talk you round again?’

  ‘I won’t. I’m asking you to trust me, Ian.’

  He laughed. ‘Trust you? That’s good in view of what you’ve just told me.’

  ‘Surely the fact that I told you—’

  ‘You said yourself that you only told me because it was unavoidable.’ I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his hand. ‘Let’s get it straight. You go up to London on Friday and meet him – drop the bombshell that he has a son and ask for his agreement to the adoption then – providing that he agrees, you come home again. Have I got that right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It all sounds a bit naive to me; foolishly optimistic to say the least.’

  I looked at him. ‘Ian – if you can’t feel the same about me I understand. If you can’t trust me any more, do you want to do something about it? Do you want to cancel the adoption application? Do you want me out of your life?’

  To my dismay I saw his eyes fill with tears. ‘How can you ask me a question like that?’

  ‘It would break my heart but …’ I went to him, hands outstretched. ‘I’d understand how you felt if you—’

  ‘Understand how I felt? You say you understand after asking a question like that!’ He walked to the door. ‘You haven’t got the faintest idea what you’ve done to me.’

  ‘Ian – please….’

  He turned, holding up his hand. ‘No – I don’t think I can take any more of this tonight, Elaine. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.’

  I was dismayed when I went upstairs to find that Ian had taken his things and moved into the spare room. He remained there for the rest of the week. During the day he was closeted in the studio for most of the day, only emerging for meals and to go out to pupils he taught in their own homes. Luckily Jamie was too preoccupied with nursing Toffee to notice anything amiss but Dad noticed and commented on it on Thursday evening when I was preparing the following day’s meals ready for my absence.

  ‘Everything all right between you and Ian?’ he asked, his kindly face concerned.

  ‘Fine,’ I told him a little too brightly. I turned to him. ‘Dad, are you sure you’re all right about looking after Jamie for the day tomorrow?’

  He looked at me. ‘When wasn’t I all right about spending time with my grandson?’

  ‘I know, but….’

  ‘There is something wrong, isn’t there?’ he insisted.

  I shook my head. ‘It’s just a tiff. We’ll get over it.’

  ‘Anything I should know about?’

  I paused then, on impulse, I decided to confide in him. ‘There’s a hitch with the adoption,’ I began. ‘Jamie’s real father has surfaced again after all these years. That’s why I’m going up to London tomorrow – to see him and ask for his agreement.’

  Dad looked shocked. ‘No wonder Ian looks so stressed. He’s resurfaced? How?’

  ‘It’s complicated. He turned up at one of the functions Mary and I catered for and we met again.’

  ‘I see. Is Ian going to London with you?’

  ‘No. I think I should do this alone.’

  He frowned. ‘But you told me this lad didn’t even know you were expecting.’

  ‘He didn’t, but now things are different. I’ll have to tell him about Jamie.’

  ‘And you think he won’t be curious – won’t want to know his son?’

  I swallowed hard. ‘That’s a risk I’m going to have to take.’

  He covered my hand with his. ‘Elaine, love – what if he doesn’t agree to the adoption?’

  ‘I don’t know, Dad. I’ve just got to hope for the best.’

  ‘And what about Jamie – have you considered him? Don’t you think that he might want to have the opportunity of meeting his biological father – at least having the choice; if not now then one day in the future?’

  I groaned. ‘Oh, please, Dad; don’t make this any more difficult than it is.’

  ‘Well, far be it from me to interfere but if you don’t tell him now and later it all comes out I’m afraid you could have trouble on your hands. He might never trust you again.’

  He left me to mull over that thought and I sat down at the table, my mind in turmoil as I wondered what to do. The situation just seemed to get worse and worse.

  That night after Jamie was in bed I went up to see him. I tapped on the door and put my head round it. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘’Course.’ He was sitting up in bed reading. Toffee, lying comfortably in his basket beside the bed looked up and wagged his tail. I sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘There’s something I want to talk to you about.’

  He put his book down. ‘What’s up, Mum?’

  ‘Nothing’s up, it’s just something I want to ask your opinion on, Jamie.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Once, a long time ago you asked me about your father – your real father. Do you remember?’

  ‘Yes. You said he didn’t know about me and you didn’t know where he was.’

  ‘That’s right. Well, what would you think if I told you I knew where to find him?’

  He frowned. ‘But Ian’s going to be my dad now.’

  ‘Yes, but if you knew where to find your real dad, what would you want to do about it?’

  He thought about it for a long time then looked up at me. ‘Do you really know where to find him then?’

  ‘Yes.’ I held my breath.

  He considered for a moment. ‘I’d still want Ian to be my dad.’ He said at last. ‘He’s the only dad I’ve ever wanted.’

  ‘But wouldn’t you be a little bit curious? Wouldn’t you want to know what kind of person he was – what he looked like – what he did for a living?’

  He shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you want to meet him?’

  The silence in the room was broken only by Toffee’s tail as it wagged against the side of the basket. Finally Jamie looked up at me. ‘He doesn’t seem real though. He’s like someone on the telly or the films. He might as well be an alien from outer space.’ He sighed. ‘No, Ian’s the only dad who feels real. I know Ian.’

  ‘And you wouldn’t like the chance to meet him – even if it’s only out of curiosity?’

  He shrugged. ‘Not specially.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He put his book down on the bedside table and snuggled under the duvet. ‘Anyway, it’s all going to happen soon isn’t it – the adoption? And once Ian’s my official dad that’ll be it.’ He grinned. ‘I can’t wait.’

  I tucked him in. ‘All right then, if you’re sure. I just thought I’d ask you.’

  He smiled up at me. ‘Thanks. ‘Night, Mum.’

  I bent to kiss his forehead. ‘Night-night.’ I patted Toffee’s head. ‘Night-night, Toff.’

  As I switched off the light and closed the bedroom door I heaved a sigh of relief. I had no idea what I would have said to Ian if Jamie had said he wanted to meet Chris. It would have complicated matters even more, especially as Ian still wasn’t speaking to me except when it was absolutely necessary.

  Ian wasn’t about when I left the house next morning. He’d left early, not saying where he was going. I explained to Cleo what I’d left for lunch and was just going through the hall when Amanda opened her door and em
erged. She looked her glamorous best in a rose pink dress and fur stole, a hat made of pink and black feathers perched on top of her newly set hair.

  ‘Oh! Is it today you’re going up to town?’ she asked, feigning surprise. ‘What luck. Can I beg a lift to the station?’

  I stared at her. ‘You’re going today? I thought it was next week.’

  ‘It was but they’ve brought it forward.’ She took my arm. ‘Isn’t it fun? We can travel up together and have a lovely chat.’

  My heart sank. The last person I needed for company was Amanda but it seemed there was no getting out of it.

  ‘What did you say you were going up for?’ she asked as she settled herself in the passenger seat.

  ‘I’m just having lunch with … friends,’ I told her.

  ‘How nice. At what restaurant?’

  ‘At … their flat in Kensington.’

  ‘That’s nice. I expect you’ll be hitting the shops afterwards.’

  ‘I daresay.’ I kept my eyes firmly on the road.

  ‘If Haydn wasn’t meeting me I could have joined you,’ she said. ‘But what with the auditions and then lunch I’m going to be busy all day.’ She sighed. ‘It’s going to be such fun reminiscing about old times.’

  Thank goodness, I muttered under my breath. All I needed was Amanda hanging around, today of all days.

  The key to Chris’s flat and the E-card for the building had arrived on Wednesday and were now safely stowed at the bottom of my handbag. They were accompanied by a slip of paper with the address written on it. It seemed that 138 Mallory Court was the penthouse of a large block in Kensington High Street. It shouldn’t be hard to find.

  We alighted from the train at Waterloo Station and as we walked along the platform I could feel Amanda’s excitement coming off her in waves.

  ‘Are you looking forward to seeing your friend again?’ I asked as her eyes raked the crowd of people waiting at the barrier. ‘Are you nervous about the audition?’

  She looked at me. ‘Old hands like me don’t get nervous,’ she said. ‘But I admit it will be nice to see Haydn again.’

  ‘I thought you were angry when Cleo mentioned that she knew him.’