Restoring Grace (7 page)

‘Come in, darling. It's so good to see you!
It's such a shame you have to leave that charming little cottage—'

‘
But it's
Rick's name on the lease,' confirmed Ellie. 'And
I could never get him
to leave.'

‘
Drink,
darling? Gin and tonic? I know you can't afford
spirits.’

The thought made Ellie feel violently sick.

‘No thanks, Mum. I'll make a cup of tea if I
may. I've brought some peppermint tea bags with me.'

‘So, you're still a dippy-hippy?' Affectionate
amuse
ment, with just a hint of
disappointment, was Val's most
frequent response to her daughter.

Ellie laughed. ‘

‘Fraid so. Can I get you anything?’

‘
Oh no. I'll
wait until your father gets home and have
a drink with him. He won't be long now, I told him
not
to be late. We're going out for
dinner. There's a new place
we've been longing for an excuse to try.'
Her voice faded
as she looked rather
pointedly at Ellie's many earrings.
'I don't suppose . .

Ellie removed the excess and the stud in her
nose without a word.

‘
It's lovely
that you've come and we can spoil you a
little,' her mother went on.

As Ellie made tea in the stainless-steel
kitchen, glad
that she knew where everything
was, otherwise she
would never have
known which silk-like door to open,
she realised that her instincts for
making a house into something special and beautiful were all inherited from her
mother. It was just that their ideas of what constituted beauty in the home
were diametrically opposed.
Ellie liked
colour, hand-thrown pots and gingham
curtains. Her mother liked matt
black, metal and the wrought-iron chandelier which hung over the kitchen table,
narrowly missing its vocation as an extra in a Scottish costume drama.

Her mother followed her into the kitchen, a
pristine dishcloth in her hand to wipe up the drips from the tea.

‘Do you want me to help you find somewhere to
live? Bath is so lovely, such super shops, but I suppose a bit pricey.'

‘
Very
pricey. There are so many students there and not
nearly enough
accommodation.'

‘But if we found somewhere nice, Daddy and I
could probably help you out a bit. Pay your first month's rent, the deposit?'

‘That's really kind but I might find it
difficult to keep paying the rent on anywhere remotely "nice".'

‘But you've managed all this time. And you'd
share,
presumably. Goodness, you work long
enough hours! You
hardly have any time to do any painting.'

‘
I know—'

‘
After all, that idea of yours, painting people's houses,
is really good!'

‘
I know.'
Ellie had painted a picture of her parents'
house as a Christmas present. They had 'absolutely loved
it', but it hung in the downstairs cloakroom. 'The
thing
is, Mum—'

‘Oh! I think I hear your father!' Val rushed
from the kitchen as fast as her pencil skirt would allow her while
Ellie reflected on the old saying that the
children of lovers
were orphans – and she was an only orphan.

*

Ellie started to feel restive after only a few
days in her
parents' immaculate dwelling. Up
until then, in the morn
ings, she stayed in bed, telling them they didn't
want to
be bothered with her when they were
rushing off to work.
Really, it was so she could feel nauseous in
private. And
once they'd gone out she had
rung her various employers
and
belatedly – guiltily – handed in her notice. She
couldn't possibly drive
all that way to work, even if she
had the
energy to work once she got there. They had been satisfyingly sorry to lose her
-- though not as sorry as she
was to lose the income, now that she was
homeless as well as pregnant.

When she had the house to herself she ate dry
toast,
drank peppermint tea and made sure
she left no trace of
her habitation.
From time to time she wondered if coming
from the background she did had
indeed made her a neurotic neat-nik, as Rick had once suggested. It was
possible, but she thought it unlikely. Her parents would have died of shock if
they'd set foot in Rick and Ellie's
little
rented house. For one thing, the throws on the sofas
and chairs didn't
quite blend with the walls.

After she had watched enough daytime television
to make herself feel better, she went for walks around the village, buying
packets of flour and butter so she could
make
cheese straws, tiny olive-flavoured scones, or
crostini for her parents
to have with their drinks when they got in from work. It wasn't that they liked
snacks, particularly, but it made her feel less useless.

When she'd done her little bit of baking, and
tidied up
behind herself, she painted. That
too took a bit of tidying,
and the idea that paint might land on some of
the virgin
whiteness of the sitting room
terrified her. She was dicing
with death painting in there, she knew,
but the light in the kitchen was hopeless, and she did drape everything in
newspaper before she started. It would be worth it when Grace saw the picture.

One morning she decided to go back to the
beautiful house she was painting and have another look at it.

It took her just over an
hour to get to the town nearest
to the house, but she wasn't sure of
her way from there. She found a parking spot and went on a hunt for a loo
and some information, in that order. Having found
a loo,
she was on her way down the High Street when she saw
Grace coming out of a shop further down the road.
It was
too far to shout, so Ellie
sprinted. 'Grace! It is you. For a
moment I thought I might have done
something really embarrassing.’

It took Grace a minute to recognise Ellie, not
because she'd changed, but because she was out of context. 'Oh, hello! How nice
to see you. What are you doing here?’

Ellie didn't want to say anything about the
picture, in
case it didn't turn out well, so
she said, 'I just thought
I'd have a look around. I'm staying with my
parents and am getting a bit bored.'

‘Well, why don't we have some coffee or
something?’

‘
That would
be nice, as long as I don't have to drink it.'
Grace smiled, cheered by this chance meeting. 'The pub
has got a
cosy snug and there won't be anyone there at
this time of day. They'll let us have what we
like.

‘
So,' said Grace, sipping mineral water, when they
had
settled themselves by the log fire in the pub. 'How is it going with
your parents?'

‘
I haven't told them
I'm pregnant yet, if that's what you
mean.'
Ellie rubbed her hands and held them to the flames.

‘
Oh.'
Grace regarded Ellie, wondering how she'd have told her parents if she'd got
pregnant before she was married. It would have been very hard. She didn't blame
Ellie for not having had the courage to do it yet.

‘I'm staying for a few more days, so there's
plenty of
time. In the meantime, I've got to
find somewhere else
to live. The trouble is, Bath is terribly short of
accom
modation at the best of times, let alone
accommodation
I can afford. Although my parents have offered to help
out,' she added, falsely bright - but not before
Grace had
glimpsed a look of extreme sadness.

It was ironic, Grace realised. Here was Ellie,
pregnant
when she didn't want to be, with
no space to live in, and
here was she, Grace, who so wanted a baby, with
too much space.

‘I'm sure you'll find something,' said Grace.
'I mean,
you're very resourceful and your
paintings are lovely. I'm
sure you'll have no trouble selling them, and
you could carry on doing it when you've got the baby.’

Ellie nodded. 'Yes, I
know. And there are other things
I could do, too.'

‘So it will be all right.' Grace put her hand
on Ellie's wrist. She was not accustomed to this sort of closeness, but she
found it came very naturally. 'I'm sure it will. You're a great girl, Ellie.’

Ellie was touched. After Rick's casual attitude
to the
baby and her parents' fond
indifference, it was nice to
be with someone who had faith in her, and
who cared.

‘Thank you, Grace. You're a great girl, too.’

Grace
laughed. 'More mineral water? The Ladies here is quite nice.’

 
Ellie drove home
feeling much more positive. She would start ringing accommodation agencies:
there must be
people willing to share with a
baby somewhere where
she could afford. She was resourceful, she knew,
but it
was nice that Grace spotted it and
reinforced it. She was
definitely
going to finish the picture now, even if she
hadn't had time to go and
look at the house again.

After supper, which was a
meal you bought in kit form,
and cooked in minutes in the wok,
Ellie plucked up the courage to tell her parents she was pregnant. She had
done the same last night, too, and the night before,
when
they had been at a restaurant.
But tonight, as before, she
failed to do it.

One evening a couple of
days later, when Ellie had been
there a little
over a week, her mother said, 'Well, darling, it's been lovely having you, but
don't you think it's about
time you moved on?’

Ellie knew she couldn't
stay any longer - didn't want
to - but it was
still a bit of a shock to hear her mother
say it.
'Er . . . yes.'

‘
You've got
somewhere to stay while you're flat-
hunting?'

‘
Yeah!'
There was sure to be a floor she could crash on
somewhere.

‘
So you don't think we're throwing you out?’

‘No, but,
Mum . . . there's just—'

‘
And I know it's been proving difficult to find anything
in your price bracket, but if you find somewhere a bit
more expensive than you can afford, tell us, and we'll
pay your deposit and your first month's rent for
you, as
I said. You may be quite old
enough to stand on your
own feet, but we're always here for you.’

Ellie regarded her
mother, so elegant it was difficult to
imagine
she had ever been pregnant, or given birth, or
even had sex. Her hair was blonde with the subtlest highlights, cut
every six weeks at a London salon. Her clothes
were superb. 'It's
important I look my best,' she had
explained
to Ellie years ago. 'Who would have their house
made over by someone who
couldn't dress properly?'

‘That's really kind,' said Ellie. 'I'll let you
know how I get on. I'll go tomorrow morning, if that's OK.'

‘I'll take you to fill up your car,' said her
mother, sounding relieved. 'I'm playing golf tomorrow afternoon. They don't
usually let women play at the weekends, but we've forced them to acknowledge
that women work too!'

‘
Good for
you, Mum,' said Ellie. 'Now, if you don't
mind, I'll go to bed. I'm
awfully tired, for some reason.’

In the morning, while her mother was plying her
with orange juice, and other perfectly ordinary breakfast food that made Ellie
sick, she finally managed to say what she'd been trying to say for days.

‘Mum, Dad, I don't want to worry you, but I
think I should tell you I'm pregnant.’

There was only the
tiniest pause. 'Oh, darling!' said her
mother.
'You can't possibly have it here! I don't want to
seem unwelcoming, but you can see how impossible it
is!' Her
mother's speech seemed to come out very well prepared.

‘Did you know I was having a baby, Mum?’