Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Lorraine Tuck
English contemporary painter based in France. Inspired by landscapes, plants and flowers. Also uses textiles and collaged paper. Activity: make paper and incorporate gathered, natural material.
(Taken from Calliope Thorne’s teaching notes.)
Johnny took Callie’s hand as they strolled along the prom.
It seemed natural to hold his hand, with Vinny’s lead in the other.
In a kind of flash forward she saw a possible life in the future; Johnny, herself and a dog.
But there were too many variables, too many things left undiscussed.
Besides, she had her life in Worcester, Johnny had his in Stratford.
How would it ever work? And she was still none the wiser about how Frida might feel about it all.
And wasn’t she jumping the gun a bit? For all she knew Johnny considered this a holiday fling.
After all, he hadn’t demonstrated much in the way of commitment in his life.
With her thoughts becoming ever more muddled, she walked by his side in silence.
‘I enjoyed last night. Up to the rude interruption,’ Johnny said, with a smile in his voice. ‘Is Frida on board about all this, do you think?’
‘All this?’
He held up their joined hands. ‘This. Me and you.’
‘I didn’t know there was a me and you.’
‘I’m not messing you around, Callie. I think we have the beginnings of something good between us, don’t you?’
She didn’t have an opportunity to answer as they had to stop at the busy road outside the cobbled square where the food market had been held.
Once they’d all crossed, with her keeping Vinny protectively on a short lead at her side and started the climb up the steep lane which led to the Art School, she found some words.
‘I don’t know what Frida thinks. She wanted to know all about you and didn’t say anything disapproving but–’
‘Wasn’t all that positive either.’
‘You can’t blame her. Apart from a very brief flirtation I had with a fellow teacher years ago and which went nowhere, there hasn’t been a man in our lives. In theory she’s all for me having a boyfriend.’
Callie stopped on the narrow pavement to catch her breath.
She turned to him. ‘I’m forty-two. I can’t say boyfriend, that’s ridiculous.
I mean, she thinks she wants me to have a relationship, but I wonder if at the reality, if and when that ever happens, she’d feel the same.
’ They were standing pressed close to a hedge.
Callie could smell honeysuckle, rich and exotic, rising from it.
At her feet, Vinny scuffled, impatient to be moving.
Callie felt the exact opposite. While part of her longed for her life to move forward, the other, greater part, yearned for what was familiar and routine.
And Johnny Starling-free. She thought about her narrow, safe little life in Worcester.
Work, choir, the odd drink or meal with Donna.
All very familiar and secure. Dull even.
How could she risk what she’d worked so hard to build up for herself and Frida?
And, with Frida still so unsettled in life, she needed to devote herself to her daughter.
She’d never have the time for a relationship, however much she wanted Johnny. Coward, she chided herself. All of it is excuses. The truth is you’re just too chicken to take a chance.
Johnny lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. ‘I’m going to put my cards on the table, going to declare myself. I’d like to develop this, whatever this is, further. I really like you, Calliope. You’re kind and funny, generous and talented, loyal to your family, warm and–’
‘Stop!’ The honeysuckle scent was overpowering and was beginning to make her feel sick. ‘You’ve only known me a few days. I’m not sure I’m any of those things.’
‘I am. And, it may only be a few days, but it’s been an intense few days. We’ve hardly been apart.’
Callie shrugged. ‘It’s not reality though, is it, down here,’ she said, dampeningly. ‘I’m on holiday, so are you. Everything is magical, easy. Neither of us have the stresses and strains of everyday normal life.’
‘I can’t see any problem in working through all that. After all, we don’t live a million miles from each other.’
Callie stared at him, at the puckering worry lines around his mouth, at the slight neuroticism and sensitivity which lay there.
She remembered how that mouth had made her feel.
Lust stirred deep inside. But wasn’t it simply that?
Lust and long buried unused hormones. Basic physical reaction. Authentic but shallow.
She had no doubt Johnny felt a strong attraction to her; he’d made that clear last night.
As she recalled his breathless desire, heat swept her.
Physical attraction was a good starting point, a powerful starting point.
It was how she and Sunil had begun but they’d been little more than kids, with no responsibilities and little idea of what they were doing. And look at how that had worked out.
Doubt swamped her, icy and all-consuming.
Once she and Johnny went to their respective homes and she was back to the grindstone of punishing hours and a heavy workload, and once he was back to his glamorous life of freelance writing jetting off here and there, what would happen then?
Away from the glitzy bright sunshine and magically salty air of Lullbury Bay, she’d reveal herself to be the careworn, middle-aged, tired teacher she really was.
This relationship, if it could even be honoured with the term, was ephemeral, fairy dust, a bright mote of something intangible.
She’d enjoy it while she was here but didn’t see it surviving.
They were too different. Came from different worlds and hers was as clay to his glittering silver.
Letting her hand rest in his, she shrugged. ‘We don’t, that’s true.’ Seeing the frown darken his face at her noncommittal answer, she added, briskly, ‘Come on, we need to get a move on. Grace and Dave will be waiting.’
Grace greeted them in the Art School’s reception area, letting an ecstatic Vinny jump all over her. ‘Oh my dears, I can’t thank you enough. And how is my lovely boy? I hope he didn’t disgrace himself?’
‘Probably has better manners than my big bro.’ Jessica Starling let herself out of the office and kissed them both.
‘Hello, darling pair. I have an hour off from being a booby mummy so Dave has said I can be in charge of the children’s painting competition.
Can’t tell you the joy in not being covered with baby sick for a whole sixty minutes.
’ She took Callie’s elbow in a firm grip and steered her towards the staffroom.
‘All the entries are set out in here. My plan is to make some truly excellent coffee, drink it while it’s piping hot and eat all the biscuits.
Grace,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘why don’t you find Dave.
He’s in the main hall. You can show Johnny Callie’s gorgeous work at the same time. We’ll be busy for a while in here.’
Grace and Johnny, along with a panting, pulling Vinny, headed off down the white-painted corridor. Johnny looked back as if he felt there were unresolved matters to discuss. As indeed there were.
‘You two looked cosy,’ Jessica said knowingly as she flicked on the kettle.
‘Still think you make a great couple. Mum has issued a three-line-whip invitation to afternoon tea, by the way.’ Hunting in the cupboards for a pack of coffee and the percolator, she added, ‘I’m afraid The Aunts will be there, natch, but they can be managed so as not to be too awful.
Actually, Aunt Sybs is great fun when there’s only pots of tea around.
It’s the alcohol that turns her into a bit of a beast.’
Callie subsided onto a chair. She felt as if everything was colliding, rushing in at her.
A panicky sensation rose in her stomach, making her feel sick.
Why hadn’t she responded to Johnny more positively?
Why had she retreated? She liked him. Possibly more than liked.
The last few days with him had been wonderful, an escape from her normal life.
A true holiday. Frida turning up so unexpectedly had catapulted her back into the role of mother and breadwinner.
Johnny in her life could only complicate things.
And there was no room for complication in her life.
He’d been so sure of himself earlier when declaring his feelings.
Confident she felt the same way, that things would work out.
But he knew nothing of her life, of how hard it had been.
How hard won. Irritation rose. Jessica had just swept her up and now Dorrie expected her to attend some flamin’ afternoon tea, as if she hadn’t anything else to do!
She’d had enough of the Starling family trying to run her life.
She’d managed perfectly well on her own all these years; she didn’t need an intervention now.
God, they were all so bossy and confident.
‘I’m not sure that will be possible,’ she said, her voice sharp. ‘My daughter arrived late last night.’
Jessica stood up from where she’d been rootling in the fridge for milk.
‘Well, that’s okay. In fact, that would be rather lovely.
She can come along too. More the merrier I say when it’s teeny scones and finger sandwiches.
I do like a posh afternoon tea, don’t you?
Little bits of lusciousness. I’m permanently starving as I’m breastfeeding.
’ She stopped, finally reading the room. ‘You cool, Callie?’
‘I’m fine. I’d just like to get on with the task in hand and get back to spend some time with my daughter.’ She’d slipped automatically into her no-nonsense teacher voice and saw Jessica start.
‘Of course. I’ll make the coffee and we’ll get going. I understand.’
No you don’t, Callie thought. You don’t understand one thing.
How can you, when even I don’t understand?
She’d never felt so miserable in her life.
It was as if a bright shiny thing had been in fingertip reach, only to be snatched away by the cold wind of reality.
The more she thought about it, the more unlikely any relationship with Johnny could happen. Besides, she had Frida to consider.
She shuffled the first batch of children’s paintings around to study them more intently, blinking her eyes and trying not to cry.