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Authors: Katie Fforde

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BOOK: Restoring Grace
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The drawing room was also
panelled, but was brighter,
holding on to the last hour of
February light. As well as
the two sash
windows which went down to the floor,
there was a curved window, also to
the floor, at the end,
which had French
doors opening on to the garden at the
side of the house.

‘I don't know if that's original,' said Grace,
flapping a
hand at it almost
apologetically, 'but it's lovely in summer.
We get the sun almost all
day.'

‘What period is it?' asked Ellie. 'I would have
said
Georgian, but I know nothing about
architecture. I ought
to really, seeing what I do for a living.'


It's been
messed around with so much it's hard to tell,
but my aunt always told me
it was William and Mary. There's an inscription saying sixteen ninety-seven
over
an archway in the garden, but I think
there's been a house
on this plot for ever.'


That's so
old!' Ellie wandered round the room,
absorbing its lovely proportions,
wondering about its
e
mptiness.
'This is a beautiful fireplace,' she said (it being
the nearest thing
the room had to furniture), admiring the delicate stone carving.


And it draws really well too,' said Grace. 'We
used to
Light it all the time, when we were
together.' She hadn't had the heart to light the fire and sit in the big room
by herself all winter, so she'd spent most of the winter evenings in bed,
snuggled up with the radio, a pile of books, two hot-water bottles and her
goose-down duvet.
Perhaps it was time for
her to start lighting the fire again,
to
stop being such a recluse. 'Come on, I'll show you the
dining room.’

They went back into the
hall and down a passage on
the opposite
side of the hall to the one they had entered.
Grace
opened the door. 'This part of the house is much
older than the front. Even when Edward - my husband
- was here we didn't use this room much. It's too
far
away from the kitchen, really,
and it's not as light as the
drawing room. It gets forgotten, rather.'


If you
didn't have the drawing room you'd love it,'
said Ellie, thinking of her
own small home, where the front door opened straight into the living room, and
the staircase ran up the back wall to three, tiny bedrooms.

Grace blushed apologetically. 'Of course. I'm
just so spoilt.' By way of apology she said, 'Those curtains have
been up for ever - I don't dare draw them in case
they
fall apart. I could never afford new ones. The curtains in the
drawing room are newer, just from my aunt's time.’

After an inspection of the
study, a large, panelled room,
they moved upstairs. After a more
cursory tour of that,
Ellie said, as they
came back downstairs, 'I don't want to
be rude, but I can't help
noticing that you haven't very much furniture. You weren't burgled or anything,
were you?’

The idea was horrifying.
'Oh no, it wasn't stolen! It
went of its own accord.'


What?’

Grace chuckled, realising
how that must have sounded.
'Not by itself, of course. It was
accompanied by an adult. It was my husband's.'


Oh.’

Grace, aware of the kettle on the gas, said,
'Let's go back to the kitchen before the kettle boils dry. And it should be a
bit warmer in there now.’

Together they went into the
large, rather bleak room.
It had a high ceiling and more stone
flags on the floor.


What this
room needs,' said Ellie, 'is lots of copper
pots and pans, a roasting
spit, sugar grinders, stuff like that.’

Grace said,
'I'd rather have an Aga.’

Ellie
giggled. 'I suppose I would, too.'


Now, is it tea or coffee?' asked Grace, but she'd lost
Ellie's attention. She was standing in front of the huge, built-in dresser, on
which a few unmatched but ancient-looking plates tried valiantly to fill the
space.

‘That's wonderful! It would take whole dinner
services at a time! I suppose your husband couldn't take that.'

‘Oh no. He was very scrupulous.' Suddenly it
seemed important to Grace that Ellie shouldn't think badly of Edward - she
still loved him, after all. 'He didn't take
anything
that wasn't his, and he left me the bed and the
duvet, which were his,
too, really. Do sit down. So is it tea, or coffee?' Grace's hand hovered
between a jar of coffee and a packet of tea bags, wishing she hadn't mentioned
the duvet. It was so personal.


I'm off
coffee at the moment,' said Ellie. 'But tea would
be great.' She pulled out a chair. 'I don't
usually get hospi
tality before I do the picture, although I sometimes do
when I deliver.’

Grace laughed. 'I'm not
sure if you'd quite describe this as hospitality, although it's the nearest
thing I've been to
it
m a
while.' There was something very cheering about
having Ellie sitting at her kitchen table. She was so up front
and,
if she was a little outspoken, she wasn't critical.

Now Ellie
said, 'I know it's cold, but why are those bottles wearing socks?'


It's to hide the
labels,' Grace explained, laughing again.
'I'm having a wine tasting
tonight. The first one in my own house, although I've done a couple of others.'


Oh? Is it
like an exam? Do people have to guess which
wine is which?'


Oh no,
nothing like that. Not at this sort of wine
tasting. This is much more
low key and is more about finding out what people like. We're testing
supermarket
wine basically, seeing which one
we like best. I'll write
up the results for a few local papers I've got
contracts with.' She frowned. 'I do it by hand and then take it into a place in
town to get it typed. It's silly really, they won't pay me much and I spend
most of it on secretarial services. But it's something and it's good publicity.
And it
means I can quote it if another
paper or magazine wants
a wine correspondent.'

‘Imagine being a wine correspondent. It sounds
very high-powered. I don't know a thing about wine.'


You don't
have to unless it's your job. You just have
to know if you like it. You could stay for the wine tasting,
if
you like.’

Grace hadn't known she was
going to say that, but once
she had, she
realised it was because she quite wanted the
moral
support of someone she could relate to. She'd lost touch with a lot of her
girlfriends when she got married and moved away from home, and then she and
Edward had mostly socialised with his contemporaries. That was the trouble with
living in a large house away from other
houses:
it was hard to get to know your neighbours, espe
cially if you were
single. Meeting Ellie reminded her of how much she missed female companionship.


That's
really kind of you,' said Ellie, 'but I'm not
drinking at the moment. Because of being pregnant.'
Then, to
Grace's horror and surprise, Ellie began to cry.
'Oh God, I'm so sorry. It's my hormones or something.
It's to do
with telling - people.'

‘Have you told many people? Has it happened
every
time?' Grace instantly stopped
feeling sorry for herself and
wished she wasn't too shy to put her arms
round Ellie.

Ellie sniffed, looked in
her bag for a tissue, and
produced a bit
of kitchen towel which had obviously beer
used as a paint rag. 'No. Hardly anyone. In fact, only my
boyfriend,
and now you.'

‘Oh.' Grace felt tremendously flattered. 'Well,
it's often easier to tell people things when you're unlikely to se€ them again.
Like on trains.’

Ellie
sniffed again and nodded.

‘So you
haven't told your parents, then?’

Ellie shook her head. 'It
would be all right if I could say
Rick and me were going to get
married. But we're not.'

‘I don't recommend marriage myself, having just
got divorced. You could just live together,' Grace suggested.


We could,
only Rick doesn't want a baby. He says we're
fine as we are, and he's
right. Only I'm pregnant. He thinks . . .' She sniffed some more. 'He thinks I
should -God, I can't even say it!'

‘No, don't. You don't have to. I know what you
mean.
He thinks you shouldn't go on being
pregnant.' Grace
got up and found a box of tissues and put it in front
of Ellie. 'I'll make the tea.'

‘So, why did you get divorced?' asked Ellie a
couple of
minutes later, having taken a
heartening sip. 'Did he find
someone
else, or did you?' Realising she'd let her curiosity
get the better of her again, she bit her lip.
'Sorry! You don't
have to tell me.
It's none of my business. I'm terribly nosy.'


Well, on the understanding we're unlikely to see each
other
again . . .' Grace frowned, suddenly sad at the
t
hought that this
cheerful-even-when-weeping person would soon go out of her life for ever. '. .
. I may as well tell you.'


Why did you marry him? Not
because of his furniture,
presumably’

Grace chuckled.
'I
didn't know about his furniture -
although
he had some wonderful antiques - when I fell
in love with him.'

‘So why did you?'


He was - is
- terribly attractive. He's older than me
and I was very young when I
met him. He was so witty and cultured, and for some reason he turned his
attention to me. It was like the sun was shining on me alone. I couldn't resist
him.'

‘So how old is he now?'

‘Forty-six. I'm thirty-one.'

‘It is quite a large gap,' said Ellie
cautiously.


Yes, but
I
don't think
that was the problem. Not really.’


What
was, then?’

Grace sighed. She had
thought about it all so much she
was almost numb to the pain. 'Well,
the main thing was that I wanted a baby and he didn't. He's got children by his
first wife. But really, I wasn't up to his speed intellectually. He found
someone else who was more on his level. I can't blame him, actually.'


That's
generous of you! Don't you want to scratch her
eyes out?
I
would.’

Grace shook her head.
'Not really. And in a way it was
sort of a
relief when he went because the thing I had been
dreading had actually happened. So
I
didn't need to
dread
it any more, and could just start to get over
it. I'm not saying
I
wasn't devastated' - she paused to
wonder how long the devastation could possibly last - 'but
I
always knew I couldn't keep him interested. I never believed he truly
loved me - or if he did, that he would go on loving
me. And I was right there,' she added ruefully. 'Although
he has
been very kind.’

She looked at Ellie, so calm and together in
spite of being pregnant by a man who didn't want it. 'Why am I telling you all
this?'


We're on a virtual train,' Ellie reminded her.
'We're
never going to see each other again.
Unless you can afford
a painting after all.' She paused. 'Did he give
you the house?'


Oh no. I inherited it from my aunt.'

BOOK: Restoring Grace
4.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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