The Very Picture of You (17 page)

Mum turned her pale-blue gaze on me. ‘But I’ve found a
wonderful
soprano. She’s in the chorus at Covent Garden and her
voice…
’ Mum closed her eyes in an attitude of ecstasy, then slowly opened them. ‘We’ll all be in floods. In fact, I
may
staple a tissue into each Order of Service.’

‘Good idea. I’m sure
I’ll
need one,’ I added balefully. I dipped my brush in the light skin tone that I’d prepared. ‘So what’s this diva going to sing?’

‘“Ave Maria” after the first reading – the Bach-Gounod, not the Schubert – then “Panis Angelicus” during the signing of the register: I
adore
both.’

‘Does Chloë?’

Mum shrugged. ‘She seems to be happy with
all
my ideas. She’s being surprisingly easy-going about everything.’

‘That’s lucky.’

‘It
is
– especially as I have so little time; I couldn’t cope with any arguments, and you know how stubborn she can be.’ Mum tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. ‘But she still hasn’t chosen her dress. I thought
you
were helping her on that front, darling.’

‘I
am
,’ I said, trying not to bridle at the suggestion that I’d been dragging my heels. ‘I’m going to a vintage wedding-dress shop with her next week. She’s going to try on a few that we’ve seen on their website.’

Mum was making ‘tutting’ noises. ‘I
wish
she’d have something contemporary – I really don’t want to see her in yellowed lace.’

‘You won’t, Mum.’ I began to work on her left hand. ‘These gowns are beautifully restored – and they’re expensive: you’d better warn Roy that the one she most likes the look of costs two thousand pounds.’

Mum’s eyes were round. ‘She could get an Amanda Wakeley for that.’

‘Something old – that’s what she wants.’

‘Well,
I
shall be wearing something
new
.’

Now Mum told me about the outfit she’d ordered from
Caroline Charles, the Philip Treacy ‘fascinator’ that would adorn her head, the menus that she was keen on but had yet to confirm with Chloë and Nate, the ice sculpture that she was considering and whether I thought a peacock might be preferable to a swan. She talked about the hardwood flooring she’d ordered for the wedding tent and about the work Roy was doing in the garden to get it looking ‘tip-top’. Then she discussed the flowers.

‘The church will already have flowers from the eleven o’clock service,’ she said as I painted a cream highlight on to the gold of her wedding ring. As I did this I wondered what Mum had done with her first wedding ring. Perhaps she’d flushed it away, or flung it into the sea. More likely, she’d kept it in a box inside another box inside a bag at the back of a drawer.

‘That’s good,’ I said. ‘Then you won’t have to buy any.’

‘It
isn’t
good at all,’ Mum protested. ‘They might be hideous, and I
don’t
want to find that we’re stuck with carnations and chrysanthemums. So I’ve asked the florist to strip them all out, and we’ll have tuberoses, pink peonies and green viburnam for the larger arrangements, with posies of sweet peas at the end of each pew. I
love
sweet peas…’ Mum shivered with happiness, like a small child anticipating Christmas.

I found her excitement touching. It was as though it was
she
who was…

I dipped my brush in the zinc yellow. ‘Can I ask you something, Mum?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve never asked you this before – or probably not since I was very young, but… what with Chloë getting married, I’ve been wondering…’

‘Wondering what?’ she asked serenely.

‘Did
you
have a big wedding? The first time, I mean.’ I suddenly imagined my mother standing at the altar with the entire
corps de ballet
fanned out behind her.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I didn’t.’

‘So… it was just… a small one, was it? But in church, presumably.’

Mum blinked. ‘No.’

‘Didn’t you want to get married in church?’

‘
I
did,’ she replied. ‘But, well… your father didn’t
believe
. But you know, it was such a
long
time ago and I really don’t want to…’

I raised my hands in surrender. ‘Okay.’

So Mum had got married in a register office both times. That would go a long way to explaining why she wanted to make such a ‘statement’ with Chloë’s wedding – she was turning it into the big, glamorous meringue-and-marquee number that she’d never had.

I dipped the brush in the pot of turps. ‘There’s one other thing I wanted to ask you.’

Mum suppressed an annoyed sigh. ‘What’s that?’

‘Did we go to the seaside somewhere – when I was about four?’

She inclined her head, like a bird suddenly aware of a predator. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Because… I recently had a memory of being on a beach somewhere. In a blue-and-white striped dress.’

I held my breath as Mum considered the question. For a moment I thought she wasn’t going to answer. ‘We had a holiday in Wales,’ she replied slowly. ‘The summer before you were five. We went to Anglesey
for three days. You
did
have a blue-and-white striped dress – I’m amazed that you remember it.’

‘So… that holiday must have been with my father. Is that right?’ I added.

‘Yes,’ she answered reluctantly. ‘
Now,
I’d just like to—’

‘Three days for a holiday isn’t long,’ I interrupted, before she could change the subject.

‘Well…’ I heard Mum swallow. ‘We didn’t
have
long holidays.’

‘Oh. Why not?’

‘Be
cause
… we couldn’t.’ She brushed a bit of fluff off her skirt. ‘I was dancing principal roles, and so taking a fortnight, or even a week off, simply wasn’t
possible
.’

‘I see…’

‘So we just took a few short breaks – where we could.’ I nodded, blankly. ‘Are you all
right
, Ella? You seem rather… intense.’

I stared at her.

My father’s sent me two e-mails and a photo. He’ll be in London in a few weeks’ time. He wants to see me, but I know that that would cause big problems for you, so I’ve been ignoring him, but it’s making me feel confused and unhappy – plus I’ve fallen for Nate, which is also making me feel confused and unhappy – so, all in all, I’m feeling, yes, rather intense.

‘I’m fine,’ I said.

Mum smiled. ‘
Good
. Now I’ve got to find a jazz band – there’s one that plays down by the river on Thursday evenings, so Roy and I are going to go and hear them this week. I’ve also been wondering about having an entertainer – a caricaturist might be amusing. What do you think, darling?’

‘That would be fun.’

‘I wish
you’d
find someone.’

‘I don’t know any caricaturists.’

‘I mean a
man.
’ Mum sighed, extravagantly. ‘I’ve always thought it a shame you didn’t settle down with David.’

I picked up the tube of cadmium green. ‘I didn’t want to.’ I unscrewed the cap.

‘Why not?’

I squeezed a little on to the palette. ‘Because he was very nice, but it was terribly… cosy. I felt too young to be in the comfort zone for the rest of my life.’

Mum shifted on her chair. ‘The comfort zone is preferable to many other, more hazardous zones, Ella. I hope you won’t come to regret that decision.’

‘I know I won’t – because a few weeks ago I bumped into David at the Chelsea Arts Club; he was with someone new, and I didn’t mind. But if you’ve
loved
someone it must be hard to see them with anyone else.’

‘Very hard…’ Mum agreed quietly.

I knew that she must be thinking of my father, because she’d seen
him
with someone else – the woman for whom he would eventually leave her. She’d once told me that she’d ‘come across them’, which suggested that this encounter had happened outside. Would
I
have been with her? I wondered. Suddenly I felt sure that I
was
, because I had a vision of my father’s startled face, and I saw that white skirt with its bold red flowers…

‘Isn’t there
some
nice man that you like?’ Mum was asking me now.

‘Er… no. There’s no one…’

My mother touched her cheek, then put her hand back on her chest. ‘Now what about
Nate?
’

It was as though I’d plunged down a manhole. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, what about Nate’s portrait? Sorry, darling, I’ve changed the subject – my mind’s all over the place. How’s his painting going? Do tell me.’

I exhaled with relief, as though I’d committed a crime and had narrowly escaped detection. ‘It’s going… fine.’ My heart rate slowed. ‘We’ve had two sittings.’ So only four more, I reflected with a pang. How odd to think that I’d hoped to keep them to a minimum: now I wished I could have dozens more.

‘So when will it be ready?’

‘I’ll aim to finish it by mid-June so that it has time to dry. Then Chloë will collect it the day before the wedding. I hope she’ll like it.’

‘I’m sure she’ll love it. I know you’ll bring out Nate’s intelligence and charm – and his
kindness:
he’s a compassionate sort of man.’ Mum shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I still can’t understand
how
you could have disliked him, Ella.’

The conversation was making me so tense that I accidentally smudged the line of Mum’s hand. ‘I just… did.’

‘But you like him now?’

I know you’re going to
love
him!

‘I do.’ So Chloë
had
been right.

‘And you’re coming to the engagement party, aren’t you? It’s next Saturday.’

I began to correct my mistake. ‘Chloë told me about it, but I’m not sure…’

‘Well, you’ll have to let them know, because it’s a sit-down dinner just for close friends and family – they’re
not having a big party because the wedding’s so soon: Nate’s having it at his flat.’

‘I see…’ I wished I didn’t have to go. It would be painful seeing him with Chloë. I wondered how I could get out of it…

Mum lifted her chin. ‘By the way, I presume you chat to Nate during the sittings.’

‘Ye-es.’

‘Well, please don’t let on, should the subject arise, that Chloë’s last boyfriend was married.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I don’t discuss Chloë with Nate.’

‘Good. Because I’ve told her that it’s better if he doesn’t know.’

‘Why?’ I looked at her. ‘It’s got zero to do with him.’

‘Yes, but men can be…
funny
about things: it doesn’t do to tell them everything.’ I wondered what sort of things Mum hadn’t told Roy. ‘After all, they haven’t known each other that long,’ she went on. ‘So I’ve advised her to say nothing about it until they’ve been married at least a year – or better still, not to tell him at all.’

I picked a stray bristle off the canvas. ‘You know, Mum, I think it’s for Chloë to decide what she does and doesn’t tell her own fiancé.’

‘Well, I don’t think that her association with Max is something that she should shout about.’

I shrugged. ‘Nate would have to be a prig to care one way or another, and I don’t think he is.’

‘Anyway, that’s how
I
feel and Chloë agrees.’ The chair creaked as Mum shifted her position. ‘But thank
God
she met Nate. I still can’t bear to think how unhappy she was before – thanks to Max’s awful treatment of her.’

I squeeze a little Naples yellow on to the palette. ‘Max
wasn’t “awful” to Chloë, Mum. She said he treated her well. She was only unhappy because she couldn’t
be
with him.’

Mum laughed. ‘Of course she couldn’t – the man was married!’ Mum was always so censorious about adultery, I reflected. But then she knew only too well the damage it does. ‘In any case, he
didn’t
treat her well – he stayed with his wife.’

‘Oh…’ I was about to challenge my mother’s somewhat skewed analysis of the situation, but she was hurrying on.

‘
Why
he stayed with her, I really don’t know. It’s not as though they had children, so I assume it was because she earned a lot with those books of hers.’

‘I’ve
no
idea. Maybe he loved her – maybe he loved them
both
. Maybe he was just…
confused
.’

‘Confused?’ Mum gave me a glacial stare. ‘Allowing men to be “confused” gives them an excuse to just… string other women along, offering them
nothing
.’

‘Then those “other women” should keep away.’ A muscle at the corner of Mum’s mouth twitched – she’d always loathed the idea that her daughter had been an ‘other woman’. I pulled the brush through a rag. ‘But Chloë really fell for Max.’

Mum sniffed. ‘Goodness knows
why.
He’s not attractive – and he can’t earn much, working for a charity.’

‘He doesn’t just work for a charity, Mum – he runs Well-Spring, the international clean-water charity, and he isn’t
un
attractive – just a bit unkempt.’

‘All right – what he does is worthwhile,’ Mum conceded. ‘But that doesn’t alter the fact that he should have left Chloë alone.’

‘She should have left
him
alone – I was appalled when she told me that she’d become involved with him. But she believed him when he told her that his marriage was unhappy.’

Mum smiled unctuously. ‘
So
much so that we now see him proudly posing with his wife in
Hello!
’

Mum had a point there. ‘So you saw that.’

‘I did – and it made me feel sick. But it also made me realise that I was
right
to give Chloë the guidance that I gave her.’ Mum’s lips had become a thin line. ‘Because once she started talking about having his baby, then I knew that things
couldn’t
continue. Do you remember that, Ella?’

‘Yes.’ I reached for the paint rag again. ‘
Not
a great idea.’

‘So I decided that it was time that Max’s wife knew what was going on. I mean – there she was, writing detective fiction while failing to detect that her own husband had been having a year-long affair!’