A Springtime Affair Read online

  ‘And I know they’d love staying with you,’ he said. ‘It would be for my aunts and some cousins. I’m very fond of them.’

  ‘Of course I’d be happy to give you a special rate as your family will be taking all the rooms,’ said Gilly.

  ‘As your accountant I shouldn’t let you do that,’ he said firmly, but Gilly could see a twinkle in his eye he couldn’t quite suppress.

  She felt a rush of warmth towards this kind man who wanted to do something nice for his elderly relatives. ‘But as your friend I think you have to let me charge what I think appropriate.’

  He laughed. ‘I’m glad you think of yourself as my friend, Mrs Claire.’

  ‘I do, and I think it’s high time you called me Gilly.’

  ‘And you must call me William.’

  Gilly smiled and got up. ‘I must go. Thank you so much for your advice and get those dates to me as soon as you can.’

  He got up too and walked her to the door where she stopped, pointing to the wall. ‘I’ve never mentioned it before, but I really love those photographs. Seeing the hills covered in frost with the sunshine just catching them, the river looking magnificent, they’re really beautiful.’

  ‘Do you like them? I took them from my glider.’

  ‘Glider? You have a glider?’

  He nodded and opened the door.

  That’s a bit of a surprise, thought Gilly as she left.

  Chapter Three

  Helena’s best friend Amy called on her the following evening. Helena had sent her a text – Met our new landlord Jago Pengelly – but hadn’t gone into detail. She knew she couldn’t cheat Amy by being brief. While Helena wasn’t interested in him as a possible date, Amy probably would be.

  ‘So?’ said Amy, putting the wine down on Helena’s tiny worktop and finding a couple of glasses, knowing exactly which cupboard to look in. ‘What’s he like?’

  ‘He’s a gentleman-builder,’ said Helena. She liked to be able to categorise people. A snappy two-word ‘type’ and they were filed away into a part of her mind she didn’t often visit.

  ‘So, good-looking?’ Amy handed Helena a glass of wine and came to sit next to her on the sofa bed.

  Helena thought. ‘Not amazingly so, but quite attractive, I suppose.’ She paused. ‘I’m trying to think how you’d see him.’

  ‘And you’re not going after him yourself?’ It was obvious Amy knew what the answer was but she could never resist trying to bring Helena round to her way of thinking.

  ‘No, I’m focusing on my career, finding somewhere to relocate to, and getting enough stuff for Woolly World,’ said Helena carefully, as if to a small child who hadn’t heard this many times before. ‘Those are my priorities.’

  ‘And you can’t multitask? I care about my career too, but I can manage to run a few dating apps.’

  ‘Come on, Ames! I’m willing to share everything I know about someone you may well fancy. Just get off my case!’ She took a sip from the glass Amy handed to her.

  ‘You need to sort out your trust issues. Just because your father was a snake, it doesn’t mean all men are,’ said Amy, sitting down next to Helena.

  ‘I’m sure I’ll know the right man when I’ve got time to focus on it but just now I’m concentrating on my work. I have explained this about a million times, but having met a new man, I thought I’d pass him on to someone who might be interested. You.’

  ‘OK,’ said Amy, pulling one of Helena’s handwoven throws over herself. The mezzanine of Helena’s studio had been made into a tiny flat, but although it was now April and not actually that cold outside, it wasn’t ever very cosy. ‘About how tall is he?’

  ‘Tall, big, bigger than me, anyway. Which is why he needed me to rescue the kitten.’

  ‘You are quite small, Hels,’ said Amy, sizing her up. ‘He wouldn’t need to be huge to be bigger than you.’

  ‘All right, he looks as if he could play rugby.’

  ‘What? He has a cauliflower ear?’ Amy appeared put off by this thought.

  ‘No.’ Helena pictured Jago’s ears. ‘Nothing odd about them.’

  ‘You should be able to tell me all about him, with your spooky superpowers,’ said Amy.

  Helena was a super-recogniser, which meant she had a photographic memory for people even if she’d only glimpsed them. While Amy knew about this, she was a bit sceptical.

  ‘I could pick him out in a crowd but it’s my powers of description that are failing me now.’ She thought about him. ‘He has a small scar above his eyebrow and his hair has a sort of straw-like quality. Not that it’s like straw exactly, but it’s the colour really.’ Thinking about him, Helena realised she felt a bit warm towards him. While she was perfectly capable of having men as friends and liking them, with Jago she felt the stirrings of attraction which was rare.

  ‘Voice?’ prompted Amy as Helena had stopped trying to describe him.

  ‘A nice voice. No noticeable accent.’

  ‘Eyes?’

  ‘Yes, he definitely has eyes.’

  ‘Agh! Colour?’

  ‘Not easy to define. Bluey-greeny, or maybe greeny-bluey.’

  ‘Nothing else you can tell me about him?’

  Helena shrugged. ‘To be honest I was mostly dealing with my claustrophobia.’

  Amy looked at her. ‘Helena! What on earth have you been doing?’

  ‘Earth does come into it, as it happens.’ And Helena related the story of how she’d had to rescue the kitten. ‘So we know he’s definitely an animal lover.’

  Amy was less impressed. ‘Yes, but does he want kids? Some people prefer animals to children.’

  ‘Strangely, we didn’t get on to whether or not he wanted children. He does know I don’t take sugar in my tea, though,’ said Helena, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. ‘Nor does he.’

  ‘Ah!’ said Amy triumphantly. ‘Something in common!’

  Helena sighed. ‘But seriously, I think he is a nice guy. He’s making our space into affordable housing and says that’s what he’s most interested in. You should definitely get to know him.’

  ‘I will,’ said Amy. ‘If you’re leaving this diamond on the beach.’

  ‘He’s all yours. Now tell me about the workshop. Was it OK doing it on your own? I am sorry I couldn’t come and do it with you.’

  ‘It’s fine. I know you had to work. And it was OK although it is better doing it as a couple. People aren’t left waiting for help for so long.’ She twiddled the fringe on the throw. ‘Tell me more about this Jago Pengelly. Is that Welsh, do you think?’

  ‘Cornish, I imagine, though I’m not sure. Amy, why don’t you pop over and ask him?’

  ‘He won’t be there now,’ said Amy. ‘It’s nearly nine o’clock in the evening. Builders don’t work that late.’

  ‘He’s living on site! Which is why he was able to look after his sister’s cat and her kitten. Though I think they’ve gone back now. I saw him putting a loaded cat basket into his pickup.’

  Amy had lost interest in the cats. ‘But is the house fit to live in? It doesn’t look like it.’

  ‘He’s tough. Pop over and borrow a cup of sugar or something, although maybe make it quinoa as we know he doesn’t take sugar.’ Her friend looked doubtful. ‘Or take him some of Mum’s shortbread. Everyone loves that.’

  Now Amy frowned at Helena with her head on one side. ‘You know, I’m beginning to get why you don’t go in for dating. You have no idea about normal behaviour.’

  Helena shrugged, feeling vindicated but hiding it.

  ‘But tomorrow,’ Amy went on. ‘I’m going over as soon as I decently can. So, how’s your mum?’

  Everyone loved Gilly because she was always baking and had been fairly relaxed when they were growing up. ‘She’s OK, I think,’ said Helena. ‘We’ve had a summons to Sunday lunch with stick-woman and my brother.’

  ‘You’re very unkind about Cressida,’ said Amy, who’d met her. ‘She’s perfectly nice.’

  ‘I know there’s no
thing major wrong with her but I’d like her better if she wasn’t quite so obsessed with running and healthy eating. She’s aggressively skinny’ – Helena held up her hand – ‘which is fine! But she wants everyone else to be too.’

  ‘I don’t think you can be aggressively skinny.’

  Helena raised her eyebrows. ‘Spend a little time with her and you’ll know that isn’t true.’

  ‘But Gilly gets on OK with her?’

  ‘You know Mum, she gets on with everyone even though Mum is definitely a feeder and Cressida thinks everyone should live on green-sludge smoothies.’

  ‘I stayed in a B & B when I was away,’ said Amy. ‘It was so not up to Gilly’s standards!’

  Helena laughed. ‘She is obsessed. She has Four in a Bed on series record and is always looking for obscure places to dust. I keep telling her she should go on that programme.’

  ‘She takes such pride in Fairacres, doesn’t she? And when you stay with someone who doesn’t, you do notice.’ Amy had been an early guinea pig for Gilly when she was testing her bedrooms for comfort.

  ‘She’s lucky she loves baking,’ said Helena, ‘so the home-made biscuits she puts in every room are a pleasure for her to make.’

  ‘And the top-quality bed linen makes such a difference!’ said Amy. ‘So luxurious.’

  Helena grew serious for a moment. ‘She had all that before she opened. She told me it was how she comforted herself when Dad was being so horrible. She bought bed linen.’

  ‘That was a truly awful time for you all,’ said Amy.

  ‘But you and your mum were so supportive.’

  Amy smiled. ‘I remember my mother panicking after she’d invited you over to stay. Gilly’s such a brilliant cook and she thought Gilly would hate everything my mum cooked.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have cared!’ said Helena. ‘And your parents have a very deft hand with the corkscrew and that really helped.’

  ‘She’s done so well since the divorce,’ said Amy. ‘You must be proud of her.’

  ‘I am! And I’m going to make sure my brother and his wife don’t take advantage of all her hard work.’

  ‘You don’t think they’re going to try, do you?’ Amy was horrified.

  Helena shrugged. ‘Why else invite us both to Sunday lunch? I think Mum knows more than she’s telling me because she’s afraid I’ll go ballistic at the thought.’

  Amy shook her head. ‘Well, keep me informed. I’d love to think badly of a green-smoothie addict.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘Shall I drive?’ said Helena. It was Sunday morning, and Helena had parked her car outside Fairacres and gone inside to pick up her mother. ‘Then you can have a glass of wine?’

  ‘A whole glass? I don’t think so. That would be more units than would be healthy,’ said Gilly, looking around to check everything was locked. ‘Cressida always wants everyone to be healthy.’

  ‘Mum! It’s so unlike you to say something like that. I love it when you find your inner bitch.’

  Gilly laughed. ‘I’m always quite relieved to discover I have one, I must say. Now, have I got everything?’

  ‘I’m not sure Cressida appreciates home baking, Mum,’ said Helena, eyeing the collection of Tupperware her mother had in her basket.

  ‘I know she doesn’t, but Martin does and he takes it into work. He tells Cressida that it’s to give to his colleagues, but I know he eats it too.’

  ‘But don’t you think she breathalyses him to detect the consumption of carbs and sugar when he gets home?’

  ‘Probably. Mostly I take biscuits so Issi has something she can eat when she gets home from school. I don’t think that little girl actually gets enough calories. It’s all cucumber and carrots and the odd seed. But I expect you’re right, I shouldn’t be her enabler—’

  Helena giggled. ‘To home-made shortbread. Oh, what a wicked granny you are!’

  Helena spent the journey wondering if she should mention her suspicions about her sister-in-law’s motives behind inviting them both to lunch to see if Gilly confessed to thinking the same thing. But she knew her mother didn’t like it when she said unpleasant things about Cressida and so didn’t want to do it unless it was really justified.

  She parked outside the sleekly modern house, which had a steep drive that didn’t encourage visiting vehicles. Helena and her mother sat in the car for a few seconds, bracing themselves. ‘I hope you’re wrapped up warm,’ said Gilly eventually.

  ‘Mum! It’s April!’

  ‘Only just! And that house is always cold, but Cressida is always warm. It’s the running.’

  Helena shuddered. Her sister-in-law’s addiction to running always unsettled her. ‘Let’s go in.’

  Martin, her brother, greeted her with a hug and a ‘Hey, Sis.’

  His wife, who was tall as well as thin, was dressed in black. Her hair was pulled back into a very tidy ponytail and she was wearing silver jewellery. Her make-up was pale and either didn’t include lipstick or she was using one the same shade as her foundation.

  Her welcome was a bit more gushing than her husband’s. She smiled at Helena and kissed Gilly on both cheeks and patted her shoulder. The little girl, Ismene, who was five years old and serious, said, ‘Good morning, Grandma and Helena.’

  Helena winced for her mother. Gilly was a devoted grandmother but she hated being called Grandma. However, in spite of her expressing her dislike of it when Ismene was tiny, Cressida had insisted this was how she was to be addressed. Cressida was big on proper names.

  ‘So, come along in,’ said Martin, ushering them through to the sitting room.

  Although the room was cold, there was no fire in the super-modern fireplace. But even if the underfloor heating had been on, it would always be chilly. Helena felt it was something about the décor, which was white and mauve with black accents.

  The look that Cressida gave Helena’s feet was clear – she wanted Helena to take off her shoes. Helena ignored the message. She was cold enough even though she had put on a warm cardigan before coming and she couldn’t cope with just socks. She wouldn’t have objected to being asked to remove her shoes had she been offered fluffy slippers to replace them but there was nothing fluffy in this house. She noticed that Cressida hadn’t given her mother the silent ‘take off your shoes’ message. Just for a moment Helena wished that one of them had stepped in dog poo.

  ‘Sherry, Martin!’ ordered Cressida crisply.

  Helena refused sherry but noted that the fact it was offered meant it wasn’t just an ordinary lunch. She noticed her mother accepting, obviously needing alcoholic support.

  ‘Well, this is nice!’ said Gilly, halfway through her tiny glass. ‘When were we all together last?’

  ‘Christmas?’ suggested Helena. ‘Ismene has grown, anyway. Hey?’ She crouched down to address the little girl directly. ‘When you grow out of your shoes can I have them? They are so cool!’

  Ismene frowned. ‘Don’t be silly, Aunt Helena, your feet are much bigger than mine.’

  Helena looked down at her trainers. ‘Oh, so they are. What a shame.’

  ‘Ma,’ said Martin. ‘We want to ask you something.’

  ‘Wait until after lunch, Martin!’ said Cressida. ‘We discussed this!’

  ‘Maybe we’d better have lunch then, if it’s ready,’ said Gilly.

  ‘Have another glass of sherry first, Ma,’ said Martin.

  ‘Although lunch is ready,’ said Cressida. ‘It’s only soup and salad.’

  ‘I’d love another sherry, Martin,’ said Gilly.

  Helena wished she could join her. She knew that technically she may well be able to drink a small amount and still be safe to drive but she would never take the risk.

  Gilly seemed to get through her second glass of sherry fairly quickly and they were ushered into the icy dining room with amazing views and a glass table. The surface of it was so cold that Helena was reluctant to let her wrists touch it. Perhaps the tabletop was a deliberate ploy to encourage good tabl
e manners. Cressida was very keen on table manners.

  They started with a thin soup that may well have been hot when it left the saucepan but by the time it had been poured into enormous, icy plates, it was tepid. It also had no apparent seasoning. But still it was bound to be healthy and meant Helena could have a full-fat sausage roll or, indeed, almost anything else to compensate afterwards.

  ‘Did you know,’ said Cressida, ‘that you can lose weight just by not eating after seven o’clock at night and not having breakfast until nine o’clock. It’s not as good as doing twenty-four hour fasting, in my opinion, but you may find it helpful.’ She smiled at Helena as if she’d just asked her how Cressida kept her lovely figure, which she hadn’t.

  ‘I’m so glad it works for you, Cressida,’ said Helena sweetly, ‘but although you’ve tried before, I’m not interested in diets that make me think about food all the time. In fact, I’m not interested in diets at all. I’m perfectly happy with my shape.’

  Cressida shrugged. ‘I was only trying to be helpful.’

  ‘We know,’ said Gilly, patting her daughter-in-law’s hand. ‘And you do always look so lean and fit, it obviously works.’

  ‘Personally, I’m only interested in diets that have Greggs’ sausage rolls on them,’ said Helena. Aware that everyone, including her five-year-old niece, was looking at her in horror, she went on: ‘I just mean, if I want a sausage roll I’m going to have one.’

  ‘No wonder you’re a bit—’ Cressida began.

  ‘Porky?’ suggested Martin.

  ‘I am not porky!’ said Helena.

  ‘Children!’ said Gilly. ‘Helly, Martin was only teasing. Don’t rise to it.’

  Martin grinned. ‘If you eat pork, you’ll be porky.’

  ‘Anyway!’ said Cressida, getting up. ‘Let’s move on. I’ll get the salad.’

  The salad was colourful and quite tasty with its ‘squeeze of lemon juice instead of an oily dressing’, as Cressida proudly announced. It wasn’t very filling though and Helena wondered if she could raid the box of shortbread when she helped clear up. She could do it while Cressida – or Martin – went to get more dirty plates from the table. But she lost hope in this plan when she realised how few plates there were for five people.