Restoring Grace (8 page)

Val glanced across at her
husband. 'We guessed,
because of you
not eating anything normal, and we
thought about what the best thing to
do would be, and
what we decided was to
support you in every way we
can, but
not to tell you to come and live with us. We just
couldn't cope.’

Ellie stared at her mother's flawless face.
'Oh. Well, at
least that's honest.' It was
only what she'd been expecting,
but she was surprised at the sudden hurt
that lanced through her.

‘You do want to keep it?' asked her father.

‘
Of course she wants to keep it!' snapped her
mother. 'Otherwise she'd have done something about it by now.'

'Mum's
right, I do want to keep it.'

‘
And what about Rick? Is he going to take any
responsibility for his child?' asked her father.

Ellie shook her head. 'No.
He rang me the other day
and he doesn't want it and would be
a crap - sorry -hopeless father anyway.' It had been a short, painful
conversation which had underlined for Ellie the
rightness
of her decision to leave,
but had made her wish that Rick
was more mature, and a little less bound
up in himself.

‘It's not going to be easy, bringing up a child
on your own,' said her mother. 'But I don't suppose there's time to find a
suitable father for it now!' she added brightly, trying to make a joke about
something she didn't find remotely amusing.

‘
No,' said
Ellie, 'although I dare say I could fit in a
short fling, if I acted
quickly enough.’

Her mother laughed anxiously. 'Silly girl!’

Ellie smiled. The idea had lots to recommend it.

‘Well, I've written you a cheque,' said her
father, impatient with all this frivolity. 'For five hundred pounds. It's
all we can lay our hands on at the moment - things
are
a little slack at the firm.'

‘But we will send you some more money quite
soon.'
Val put out her hand and took hold
of Ellie's. 'I hope you
don't think we're dreadfully unsupportive, but I
was a
hopeless mother and don't suppose
I'll be much better at
being a grandmother.’

Suddenly tearful - her
mother
was
being pretty hope
less but
she honestly wasn't any less helpful than Ellie
had expected - Ellie got up and hugged her mother.
'You're a great mother. And you'll be a great
granny, too.'

‘
Oh, darling, you won't let it call
me Granny, will you? It's so ageing!’

*

So, with a cheque for five hundred pounds, a full tank of petrol and a
painting, Ellie set off for Luckenham House.

She planned
to deliver the painting, and then look up an
old
college friend who'd stayed in the area. She was
bound to have a bit of floor space, even if Ellie would
have to
share it with her artwork.

There was a van parked
outside the house with
'Goscombe Woodworm and Pest
Consultants' written on it in very smart gold lettering. Heavens, was the house
infested? Ellie felt instantly protective of
Grace, wondered why, and then put it down to gratitude to Grace for being
so
supportive the other day. She was looking forward to
her seeing the painting; she herself was very pleased with
how it
had turned out. She parked her own little 2CV behind the van, picked up her bag,
and marched down the path.

The front door was open, allowing the biting
wind to
knife through the house. 'Hello!
Anyone at home! Grace?’

Grace heard Ellie's
friendly shout, abandoned the
young man in a boiler suit who was
rapping at the wainscoting in a way almost guaranteed to make a hole, and ran
to the gallery. 'Hi! How nice to
see
you! Come in.'

‘
Shall I come up?' said Ellie.

‘
No,' said Grace, grateful for an excuse to exchange
lovely, cheerful Ellie for the young man who sucked his teeth in such a depressing
way. 'I'll come down. I've got to make him coffee, anyway.'

‘
Who's he?'
asked Ellie when Grace joined her and they
set off together for the
kitchen.

Grace sighed guiltily: guilty for letting her
sister bully her, guilty for not being grateful to Allegra for sending him.
'Oh, it's a man my sister sent. He's perfectly nice. Young. I should be
pleased, really.'

‘
Why? If you
don't want him here, why do you have
to be grateful?’

Grace sighed again and put the kettle on.
'Because I'm
;o pathetic! I let myself be
bullied and then grumble about
Lt. I
should just accept I'm a doormat and quit moaning!'

‘
I think moaning's OK. I can be a bit of a doormat too,'
Ellie
added, thinking of how meekly she took out her earrings when her mother looked
askance at them.

‘Anyway, it's great to see you.' Grace sought
for a way of asking Ellie why she was there without seeming rude. Her presence
was so welcome.

‘I brought you this,' said Ellie, producing a
painting
from her bag. 'I did it while I
stayed at my parents'. It's
a present,' she added hurriedly.

Grace took hold of it, incredibly touched and
charmed by the vision of her house. 'It's lovely! But you can't just give it to
me. I should pay you for it!’

Ellie shook her head. 'No.
I knew you couldn't afford
it when I painted it.'

‘
But you
probably can't afford just to give it to me
either.' Grace let herself
admire her house, and the way Ellie had captured the warmth of the stone, the
delicate
violet of the crocuses and the
bright yellow jasmine, which
wasn't
actually out yet. She had added some large
climbing plant, possibly a
magnolia, which didn't exist, but it did look charming.

‘Well, I am giving it to you, so there. How did
the wine tasting go? I was so wrapped up in my own troubles, I forgot to ask
about it the other day.’

Grace, aware that Ellie
was not going to be argued with about payment for the picture, said, 'Well,
thank you very
much. I love it. It's so
kind. I must get it framed. And the
wine tasting - well, it was all
right in the end, I suppose.'

‘
After people had got drunk, you mean?'

‘
You don't actually drink that much. You could do it and
drink less than a whole glass.'

‘
Really? They didn't spit it out, did they?'

‘
No! It was really very informal. At least, most people
were informal. There was a couple who were obviously expecting something very
different and a man - can't
remember his
name - who wrote lots and lots on his sheet
and
didn't say much.' dace frowned. 'I think he was a
spy. He certainly knew his wine.'

‘
A spy! How do you know? Surely they're supposed
to
keep that sort of thing secret!'

‘
I don't mean that sort of spy!' Grace chuckled.
It really
was so nice to have Ellie here. 'What can I get you?'

‘Nothing,
thank you. Tell me about the spy?'

‘
Well, he said nothing all evening, but stayed and
helped
clear up at the end while his girlfriend had a cigarette in the drawing room. I
didn't think I could make her go outside in the middle of winter.'

‘
But why is he a spy?' Ellie was obviously
fascinated
by the concept.

‘I
think he was sent by the man at the wine shop in
town to see if I knew my stuff, but didn't say anything in
case
it made me nervous. And it would have done! Although I do know my stuff, I
haven't had much practice at being public about it.' She frowned. 'It was funny
at the end though – he asked me to have
dinner with him.'

‘
And he came with a girlfriend?' Ellie was appropriately horrified.

‘
I said no, of course. But fancy asking me out when
he
was with another woman!' Grace frowned. That wasn't
the reason she'd turned him down. 'Although, to
be fair,
he might not have really been
with
her. Actually, I just thought they'd shared
transport until she came in and called him darling.'

‘Maybe
she calls everyone darling,' suggested Ellie. Grace bit her lip. 'She
did.'

‘
So would you have gone
out with him if you hadn't thought he was attached?’

Grace was horrified. 'Oh, no. I couldn't possibly go
on
a date. It's far too soon after my divorce.' Though it wasn't
really. It was just too
soon for her.

Ellie decided not to mention her mad but cheering plan
to have a quick
affaire. Grace might be very shocked. 'Wine seems a weird thing for someone
like you to do,' she said instead. 'If you don't mind my saying. I always
thought of wine as something that blokes did.'

‘
Not for years, now. But I understand you thinking
that.'
Meditatively Grace stirred the
mug of coffee she had just
put two spoonfuls of sugar into. 'I'll just
take this up.'

‘I
don't suppose you've got any biscuits, have you?'
called Ellie as Grace left the room. 'I'm suddenly
starving.’

Grace
came back. 'I suppose he'll want biscuits too.' She got down an old cream
enamel jar with 'Biscuits' written on it in green. 'Ginger nuts?’

Ellie
nodded enthusiastically. 'Perfect.’

When
Grace had reappeared, having taken the coffee and some of the biscuits to the
young man who seemed intent on dismantling her house, plank by plank, she
joined Ellie at the table and sipped her own tea.

‘So,
how did you get into wine?' Ellie suddenly sighed apologetically. 'God, I'm
sorry. I am so nosy! And rude! Demanding biscuits, asking all these questions.
What must you being thinking?'

‘
I think a few biscuits are the least I owe you.
After all, you've just given me a painting.' Grace looked at it again,
and
then took it to the dresser, moved aside a couple of
plates, and placed it in the centre of the middle shelf. 'It'll be safe
until I get it framed, and can put it up somewhere
proper. Although it
does look nice there. Thank you so much.’

Ellie blushed, touched at how pleased Grace was with
her present. 'I wanted
to do it.'

‘And
I don't mind about the questions,' said Grace, returning to her seat. 'It's
quite nice to be listened to,
instead of
lectured. Perhaps that's why I want to do wine
tastings. People won't
keep telling me what to do, and interrupting, which they seem to have done most
of my life. At least, I hope they won't.' She hadn't kept the evening quite as
under control as she would have liked.

‘
So? How
did you get into it?'

‘The getting into thing as straightforward
enough. I
didn't want to do A levels.' Grace
frowned at the memory
of her parents'
horror th t one of their children should
be so unacademic as to ant to go and get a job rather
than go to
university. race, knowing she could never compete with her pare s, or her
brother and sister, had
decided to go in
quite a other direction. 'And I got a job at a wine importer. I go quite
interested in it, and while
I was
there I did the preliminary exams. It's funny, when I
was at school I
thought I never wanted to do an exam again, but the wine thing was different. I
suppose that was because it was something no one else in my family had ever
done, so they wouldn't keep looking over my shoulder and telling me how to do
it better.'

‘Are your parents still alive? Sorry, I'm one
of those people who has to know everything.’

Grace laughed. 'They're still alive but they
live in
Portugal, surrounded by golf
courses, other elderly
people and about a million books. I was
definitely an afterthought, which is why Allegra got to boss me about so much.
They'd lost interest a bit by the time I came along.' She smiled to show this
wasn't an issue, it was just how it was.