Rumours and Red Roses

by Patricia Fawcett

  ‘I’ll do the dishes later,’ he volunteered. ‘You must be tired yourself. Have you and Emma been busy?’

  ‘So so.’ She couldn’t stop a yawn. It had been a long day and it was not over yet. ‘Are you ready to eat? Or would you like to wait a while?’

  ‘Ready,’ he said, following her into the dining room where she had laid the table for two. ‘This looks pretty special. I hope this means what I think it means.’

  She put a finger up to her lips. ‘Wait,’ she said.

  ‘Well…?’ he asked, after they had eaten and were relaxing in front of the fire. ‘After a fantastic meal like that, I hope to God you’re not going to turn me down. You do remember the question?’ he added with a smile.

  ‘Of course I do. You asked me to marry you and I asked you for time to think about it. There was a reason for that. Rory … there’s something I have to tell you,’ she said, ‘but I’m scared to tell you in case it spoils everything.’

  ‘Come here,’ he said, patting the sofa beside him. ‘Cuddle up and tell me. Did I forget to tell you that you look lovely tonight? Your skin’s all aglow …’ He traced a finger down her cheek, forcing a smile from her. ‘And I love you. Whatever you say, no matter how many other lovers you’ve had before me, it won’t make the slightest difference to how I feel about you.’

  ‘It’s not that. For the record, there was only James and a brief fling with a boy at college. They were the only serious ones,’ she said, snuggling into his arms. ‘It’s babies, Rory. I want to talk to you about babies.’

  She felt him tense but she had no choice now but to carry on. But, as she opened her mouth to say what she had rehearsed she would say, to her surprise, Rory got in first.

  ‘You’ve taken the words out of my mouth. I want to talk to you about babies and I’m scared too,’ he said. ‘I’ve done this the wrong way round. I should have made it clear before I asked you to marry me. Do you want babies, my love? Because if you do, then of course we will try to have them. Or at least one. You’re young, Adele.’

  ‘Youngish,’ she corrected him with a little smile.

  ‘It’s not fair of me to deprive you of a child if that’s what you want.’

  ‘I don’t want,’ she said, shifting slightly, moving so that she could see his face, gauge his expression. ‘That’s what I needed to talk to you about. I made the decision some time ago that I didn’t want children but I worry that you might be disappointed. Mother said you would probably like to try for a son next time.’

  He laughed. ‘Why do people always think that? She couldn’t be more wrong. The truth is that I’ve been wondering just how to tell you how I feel. You’ll be relieved to know that I don’t want any more kids. No thank you.’

  ‘You don’t? You’re not just saying that?’ Almost unable to believe her luck, Adele swivelled round to face him. ‘Oh, Rory, thank heavens for that. My mother can’t understand me. She so wants to be a grandmother but that’s no reason for me to have a baby, is it? Just to please her? It makes me feel the teeniest bit guilty, I have to say, but I’ve never seen myself as an earth-mother type. Babies don’t do much for me. And as for all the angst as they grow up, I can do without that. I’ve seen you and your daughters. I know you love them but they don’t go away, do they? Not ever. Well, I decided long ago I’d be better off without it.’

  ‘So we’re agreed on no children?’ he said with a grin. ‘Thank Christ for that.’

  ‘Good. Then I shall organize something more permanent, contraception wise,’ she told him firmly. ‘These things have to be done and it will take all the anxiety away.’

  ‘Are you happy with that? I can have the snip if you like. Angela was always on at me to have it done after Faye was born but I never got round to it.’

  ‘No need. You can leave it to me,’ she told him. ‘I know what you men are like about things like that. Poor darling, were you worried about telling me? Did you imagine I’d walk out on you? Would you have walked out on me?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  It wasn’t quite the answer she was looking for but it would have to do.

  ‘Is that a yes then?’ he asked, looking at her intently. ‘You will marry me?’

  ‘Yes.’ She settled into his arms and he held her close, very tightly, and for a minute they said nothing. ‘Why marriage?’ she said softly. ‘If we’re not having children then maybe it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It matters to me,’ he told her firmly. ‘Thank God for that. I was beginning to worry that I’d jumped in too soon talking about marriage. I talked to Jackie about it and she said I should wait a while.’

  ‘Did she?’ Adele held on to her smile, determined not to let this spoil things although it was annoying that he had mentioned it to his daughter before he had her. Mind you, he hadn’t taken any notice of her reservations so perhaps she would forgive him.

  ‘As for the baby thing, I can’t tell you how relieved I am. The thought of another baby terrifies me,’ he went on, seeming determined to draw a line under it and to explain why. ‘You have no idea what it’s like. I’m not sure I could face another round of sleepless nights and worrying yet again about schools, not to mention university fees … Those two are costing me a fortune, as you well know. And Angela says Jackie wants all the trimmings for her wedding. Nothing less will do. That’s going to be at least fifteen grand, possibly twenty.’

  ‘I think that’s exaggerating, Rory. In any case, why don’t you accept some help from Angela for that?’ she asked, slightly irritated that he was being so stubborn. Angela’s new husband worked in real estate over in Florida and had made a bundle according to Faye. Angela was now living in the States in some splendour and had no money worries. ‘Didn’t you say that she’s offered to pay something towards the cost?’

  ‘He’s offered, that guy of hers, and I won’t take a penny from him,’ he said and the tone of his voice meant she had to let the subject drop. Fifteen thousand? That sounded a bit over the top because their own wedding, when it happened, would cost nothing like that but then they would be keeping it simple from choice. She hoped they were all right financially for he kept her in the dark about such matters, keeping a separate account to which she had no access. She felt awkward about that, uncertain, but she had to trust him. She and Emma were doing all right but, despite Emma’s ambitions, it was looking increasingly likely that their catering business would never be the big money-maker that they had once dreamed of. And suddenly it no longer mattered quite so much. She suffered, she knew, from a distinct lack of ambition herself and, like James, Rory was not being particularly supportive.

  ‘We are fine and I can find money for my daughter’s wedding no sweat,’ he went on, answering her unasked question. ‘You can pack in your job any time you like and be a lady of leisure. Go out to lunch and get into the charity scene like your mother if you wish.’

  ‘I don’t want to be a lady of leisure. I enjoy my work, Rory. It’s challenging and I want it to succeed although Emma is starting to push me a bit. We’ve got some big decisions coming up. Do we take on the industrial unit that we’ve been offered? It’s just a bigger kitchen, well equipped, but if we do that then we shall need extra help. Whether or not we employ people on a permanent basis needs thinking about seriously.’

  ‘What’s there to think about? If you want to do it, then just do it, darling. I’ll help out financially if need be. I promise I’ll be there as your prop. It can’t go wrong.’

  Put like that, it didn’t seem as if it could go wrong. Why then did she still have doubts? Why was Emma dithering at that when she was usually so quick to make decisions?

  It irked a little that Rory imagined for one minute she could lurk around at home doing very little. If there were children to look after then that would be an entirely different matter. But after tonight’s little talk, they had effectively crossed them off their list.

  So she was disappointing her mother on all fronts. Not only was she depriving her of the grandchild sh
e so desired but she was also depriving her of a big over-the-top wedding. She and Rory were in agreement that they did not want a huge fuss. As it was, low-key as it was, it went off superbly. The spring sun shone, and his daughters looked lovely and smiled throughout.

  As to Adele’s mother, well, Louisa did her best to look pleased.

  SEVENTEEN

  ‘I FEEL RATHER nervous about this,’ Rory told her as they got ready to go out to a family dinner party hosted by Louisa. Adele’s grandmother Chrissie had been reluctantly persuaded to sell off her enormous old house, the grand old property, her childhood home and so beloved of her, and move into a granny flat at her daughter’s, so obviously she would also be present this evening. ‘I know I met your gran at the wedding,’ Rory went on, ‘But we didn’t have time to talk very much. I wasn’t entirely sure if she approved of me or not. She’s a formidable old dear, isn’t she?’

  Adele laughed. ‘You could say that. She puts on a front though. She’s just a softie at heart.’

  ‘She fooled me.’ Rory smiled at her.

  To Adele, the slightly scary woman Rory was describing was simply Gran, her mother’s mother. She was a woman with sharp eyes to match her still quick wit so Adele was wearing the brooch that she had given her for her last birthday. Frankly, she hardly ever wore it for it was too precious and also a bit old-fashioned – women of her age just didn’t wear them any more – but she had to admit it sat nicely on the deep blue of her dress.

  ‘You have to understand her background to understand her. Gran was born a Cavendish,’ she told Rory as if that would mean something to him. ‘Her great great something or other grandfather Arthur Cavendish founded one of the very first cotton mills here on Aqueduct Lane and for a long time it was one of the biggest employers in the town. Ask anybody who was born here and they’ll tell you all about the Cavendish family. The business faded away eventually as most of the mills closed but the family had made a fortune by then. You never saw Gran’s old house but it was the original family home. They had servants and so on at one time. I tell you, Gran was brought up in some style, educated at home, so that’s why she’s the way she is. The family was treated like minor royalty.’

  ‘I see.’

  She nodded. ‘Oh yes. Gran’s father, my great grandfather Henry, was a wonderful man and he did a lot for charity. They all did from Arthur onwards. Arthur built a terrace of houses for his workers and really tried to improve their lives. Our family history is fascinating, Rory. There’s a lot about it in the library in town. There are some pictures of the old house too,’ she said. ‘It overlooked the park and had a wonderful garden. I used to play there when I was a little girl. There was a big bed of red roses,’ she said suddenly, remembering them. ‘He refused to have white ones. The Lancastrian connection, you see. In fact, Gran loves them too. You must never make the mistake of giving her the wrong colour roses.’

  ‘Oh my God. You’re making me even more nervous now,’ he said with a grin. ‘I didn’t know you were famous.’

  ‘Not quite that. I’m surprised she hasn’t told you about the family already. She likes to boast about it. She was born into money and she married into money too. She’s really funny. Grandfather was in his early fifties when he died suddenly and since then Gran’s got into the habit of saying that it was an arranged marriage. She says her father and Freddie’s father arranged it all over a glass of port. Honestly, what can we do with her? It infuriates mother. She doesn’t like to have her father dismissed like that. I think Gran does it purely to annoy her. There’s no truth in it.’

  ‘Were they happy?’

  ‘I always thought so. I don’t remember Grandfather much because I was only a little girl when he died but everyone says he was a lovely man. I know that Gran wanted to keep the name on when she married, call herself Cavendish-Butterworth, but I don’t think he was too keen.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’

  ‘Despite what Gran says, I think she took notice of his opinion. As she had no brother or uncles, the Cavendish name has died out.’

  ‘Pity.’

  ‘Grandfather had a moustache,’ she added thoughtfully, recalling him suddenly to mind. ‘And he smoked a cigar so there was always ash on his waistcoat. I never saw him without his waistcoat. He was very successful in business, heavy engineering, but as well as that, he was a very intelligent man. A political animal at that.’

  ‘Was he?’ Rory shook his head. ‘You seem to remember quite a lot about him. You remember more than I can about my grandparents but then they lived hundreds of miles away and I rarely saw them. The Cavendishes, eh? You keep coming up with these surprises, Adele. What else have you not told me?’

  ‘I’m not keeping secrets. I’m telling you now. We are a very interesting family, I’ll have you know. And now you’ve married into it, you lucky man.’

  ‘And you are a lucky girl,’ he said, coming over and kissing her on the back of the neck – no need to lift her hair for she was wearing it up this evening.

  She trembled slightly at his touch, feeling a little shiver of desire shoot through her, but they were late and there was no time for any nonsense. Quickly, to keep them on track, she carried on with the story. ‘Before I was born, Grandfather was on the council and then town mayor for several years. And he took it pretty seriously. I think Gran imagined herself to be the first lady. At any rate, she was always in the paper, attending some function or other, clutching his arm, mayoral chain attached.’

  ‘I’d like to see that. She must have been a good-looking woman.’

  ‘She was. And she’s kept all the cuttings. If you ask her nicely, she might show them to you sometime. She has pictures of all the local bigwigs from the fifties, managing to outshine them all.’

  ‘I can believe that,’ Rory said quickly, rummaging in his sock drawer. He was wearing boxer shorts, having discarded the jeans he had intended to wear, deciding they were just too casual for a lady of her grandmother’s stature.

  ‘She’d love to see you in jeans, especially those ones,’ Adele said mischievously. ‘You needn’t wear a suit, Rory. That’s going too far. She’s mellowed over the years. She’s quite with it really for her age. She will expect me to dress up though and you mustn’t laugh if she’s dolled up to the nines herself and dripping with diamonds.’

  ‘How’s it going?’ Adele asked her mother, finding her in the kitchen, an apron over the grey silk dress, shirt-waister style with pleated skirt, the same one she had been bringing out for dinner parties for years. She was looking characteristically harassed. Adele had offered to bring a starter to help matters along but that idea had met with a resounding no thank you.

  ‘I think I’m on track. It’s one of my fail-safe menus,’ Louisa said with a frown, her hair lank from the steam that was billowing from the hob up towards an inefficient cooker hood. ‘Pâté. Roast lamb with all the trimmings. And my almond and raspberry meringue. Cheese, of course, and biscuits. And don’t you dare say it’s old hat. Your father doesn’t go in for fancy stuff.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be wonderful. Actually, I meant how’s it going with Gran,’ Adele said, lowering her voice. ‘How is she settling in?’

  ‘As well as can be expected after all the fuss she made about coming here in the first place.’ Louisa drew a sharp breath. ‘She insists I practically make an appointment to see her and won’t have me just barging in. She invited me for tea yesterday. Three o’clock on the dot. And she refuses to let poor Wilson inside her flat. By the way, don’t call it that, for goodness’ sake.’

  ‘What do I call it?’

  ‘Suite. Her suite.’

  ‘Right.’ They exchanged a small smile.

  ‘It’s driving Wilson mad. He stands at her door whining. He loves her so.’

  ‘I don’t understand. She’s always had dogs of her own until old Caspar went. What’s the problem?’

  ‘She tells me …’ Louisa lifted a lid and stuck a fork in the potatoes. ‘Damn. I got the wrong ones. I h
ope they don’t go all mushy on me. Anyway, Mother tells me that she was so distraught when Caspar had to be put down that she doesn’t want to become too close to Wilson. She’s fighting a losing battle, of course. He’s quite determined. You can see it in his eyes. Poor soul. He’s got to be shut in the utility room this evening. Your father insists. He doesn’t want him sniffing all over Rory’s nether regions under the table where he usually sits. It’s asking for trouble. He will be in a sulk for days. I shall sneak him in a pig’s ear to pacify him.’

  ‘You and Wilson!’ Adele laughed. ‘I sometimes wonder if you don’t love him more than Dad.’

  ‘About the same,’ Louisa said with a smile. ‘Where is your father, by the way? Have you left Rory with him?’

  ‘Yes. They get on very well, don’t they?’

  ‘They do. How is Rory?’

  ‘Fine. Very busy these days.’

  ‘Your father will be quizzing him about the job. After all, sales manager could mean anything.’

  ‘Don’t be such a snob, Mother.’ Adele gave her a look, giving a hand now with the final preparations, chopping up salad vegetables to accompany the home-made pâté. ‘You’ve never got over James ditching me, have you? A doctor, one heading for a consultancy at that, sounds so much grander than a sales manager. Rory heads a big sales team, for heaven’s sake. He’s hoping to be made a partner in the company in a couple of years. He’s been with them for ever and they think an awful lot of him. That’s why they pay him so much, so that they can hang on to him. He’s not some double-glazing salesman, which is what you seem to think.’

  ‘I most certainly do not. How dare you accuse me of being a snob? Your grandmother’s a snob. Don’t let’s argue, darling, not tonight. Leave me now. It’s all under control. Go and see if you can help your grandmother get ready. She’ll let you in. You’re the apple of her eye.’