Restoring Grace by Katie Fforde Read Free Book Online

must have had some sort of architect
involved. It was modern, energy-efficient and elegant.
    It would, however, never be cosy, Ellie
realised a few hours later, after a
pointless day of driving around waiting for her mother to get home from work. As she parked her 2CV in the driveway next to her mother's
little MGTF, she thought of the
cottage in Bath she had left, for which the word 'cosy' was almost too expansive. But it made the pages of
the style magazines quite often.
    Her mother's eye for design
was evident everywhere. It had once appeared in a magazine
in an article about the use of white paint,
illustrating just how many shades of white there were.
    Now, a scarlet amaryllis in a steel pot was the
only colour evident, apart from her mother's
suit, also scarlet. Even while they hugged, Ellie remembered how
difficult it had been growing up in such a sterile space when she had been a
teenager, and mostly in control of her limbs and possessions. It would be an
impossible house for a baby. Fortunately
the thought that she might bring up her baby in her parents' house had not dwelt for long in Ellie's imagination.
    ‘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