Page 124 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
A few days later, armed with half tins of unused paint from The People’s Theatre, Adela, Tilly, Jamie and Derek descended on Number 10, Lime Terrace. Jack, primed by his daughter, had persuaded Olive to go out for the day with him on a rare trip to the Tyneside Tea Company to taste a new blend.
By the time she returned, the sitting room at Number 10, where Olive spent most of her waking hours, had been transformed. Gone were the drab wallpaper and sombre colours of mud brown and dark red. It glowed yellow and peach, and across one wall was a huge mural of a whitewashed bungalow surrounded by lush green foliage and bright blossoms of pink and crimson. Vivid green parrots flew through the air, and three figures stood at the veranda rail: two young women and a turbaned servant.
Adela could hardly keep still. She was jumpy with nervousness. Perhaps it was all too gaudy for her aunt’s taste. She knew she would take the brunt of Olive’s tongue-lashing if it displeased her.
Olive shrieked in horror at seeing it and sank into a chair. ‘What have you done? Jack, did you know what they were doing? I’ll never forgive you!’
Adela’s stomach churned. She bit the inside of her mouth to stop her tears. ‘You can blame me and Mother. It was our idea,’ she defended her uncle. ‘Mother said how you used to paint everything in bright colours. This dark room wasn’t your taste at all.’
‘How dare you!’ Olive spluttered. ‘What would you know about my tastes?’
‘Mam, don’t—’ Jane tried to intervene.
‘Did I ask for your opinion?’ Olive cried.
‘Aunt Olive,’ Adela appealed to her, ‘Mother thought if you were going to spend a lot of time sitting here, it might cheer you to be reminded of Belgooree.’
Olive looked at her in stupefaction. ‘Belgooree?’
Adela ploughed on. ‘Look, that’s you and Mother leaning on the balcony. And that’s your old khansama, Kamal. I hope it looks something like him.’
Olive gave her a suspicious look and then turned back to the wall. She clutched her chair arms while peering at the mural. She gave a small gasp.
‘Kamal?’
Then abruptly the indignation went out of her. She crumpled forward, head in hands, and began to sob.
Jane rushed at once to comfort her. ‘Don’t be upset, Mam. We can paint over it. I should have known you wouldn’t like it.’
‘No.’ Olive jerked up.
They watched as she got unsteadily to her feet and walked across to the painting. She put out a tentative hand to the figures on the veranda. Adela held her breath.
‘Clarrie and me,’ she murmured, tracing a finger over the dark-haired woman and the red-haired girl. ‘And dear Kamal.’ She stroked the figure of the Indian servant.
‘Yes,’ Adela said. ‘Mother insisted on him being there.’
‘Don’t change it,’ she whispered. She turned and eyed Adela tearfully. ‘Tell Clarrie thank you.’
Instinctively Adela rushed forward and hugged her aunt. For an instant Olive tensed, and then she responded with a gentle pat on Adela’s back. It was an awkward gesture, but Adela knew that for Olive it was a brief sign of affection. For the past two years she had felt guilty for adding to Olive’s worries with the shock of her pregnancy. Now perhaps they could put that distressing time behind them. The redecorating was a success. Her mother would be proud, and that filled Adela with joy.
Tilly went to see Adela off at Central Station. The young woman was still euphoric at their transformation of Olive’s lair.
‘How did Mother know Aunt Olive would be so pleased with the painting of Belgooree? I’ve hardly ever heard her mention it all the time I’ve been here.’
‘I suppose it brought back memories of a happier time in her life,’ Tilly mused, ‘when she wasn’t so afraid of everything. It seemed to be the figure of Kamal that had most effect.’
‘Yes,’ Adela agreed. ‘Mother said Olive was particularly fond of their khansama. Took her a long time to get over having to leave him behind when they came to England.’
‘Well, it was a kind and brave gesture.’ Tilly smiled. She took Adela’s hands in hers. ‘Will you stay down in London if you’re accepted?’
‘I don’t know. It depends what they want.IfI get accepted.’
‘They’d be mad not to have you. You’ll cheer up the grumpiest of soldiers.’
Adela’s eyes swam with tears. ‘Thanks, Auntie Tilly. I’ll give it my best shot.’
‘I know you will. And I’ll pop in to see Olive now and again for you, so you don’t need to worry about her. Libby’s another matter. I don’t know how I’m going to break it to that girl that you’ve disappeared off to London. She’ll make my life hell.’
