by Katie Fforde
Gilly swallowed. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to live anywhere with the word “granny” in it. I’m still a working woman.’
His laugh was very sexy. ‘That makes you sound like you’re on the streets, if I may say such a thing.’ Then he rubbed her knee. ‘Now I’ve offended you. I’m sorry. Let’s look at this house, shall we?’
As Gilly went to find her laptop she realised Leo and Martin must have met before they all had lunch together, and wondered where that was, and why they hadn’t mentioned it. Was it something to do with Martin and Cressida wanting to move? But then she decided it wasn’t important.
‘OK,’ she said, having joined Leo at the partially cleared breakfast table. ‘Let’s have a look at this house.’
It was over-modernised, Gilly felt, but it would suit Martin and Cressida. ‘So I am supposed to sell my house so Martin and Cressida can buy this?’ She tried very hard to keep her voice neutral.
‘The joy of this one is, you could build in the garden,’ said Leo, ‘and so add to the value of the property. It could house staff or be rented …’ He paused.
‘When I die?’ said Gilly, suddenly feeling very old. Looking at the price of the property Martin had been so keen to show her meant he was expecting a good chunk of money from the sale of Fairacres.
‘Maybe you wouldn’t want to move in there? Maybe you could just have it as a fallback position.’
‘Sorry? I’m not quite following.’ Leo was implying she wouldn’t need to live there, so where did he think she could live instead? In his house? However she might feel about him, it was far too soon for her to think about cohabiting.
‘We can talk about it later,’ he said easily. ‘Now you get your diary up on your laptop and we can find a weekend when we can go to Vienna – a long weekend. It’s a fascinating city.’
At that moment Gilly regretted her failure to fully master using the diary function on her laptop and relying on an old-fashioned desk diary for her B & B bookings. She realised it made her look ancient, as if she couldn’t grasp new technology. She could, but she was a bit lazy about it, Helena always said.
Leo didn’t comment when she came back with her diary. Ulysses followed her into the room and jumped on the sofa between them. ‘So,’ she said, ‘when were you thinking of?’
‘June’s a lovely month,’ he said, pushing the cat on to the floor.
‘Yes,’ said Gilly, knowing it was also a busy one for her. She flicked through to June. There was a booking for every single weekend. ‘July?’ she suggested, hoping there’d be a vacant weekend in it.
‘I can’t understand why you’re booked up so early,’ said Leo, sounding a bit cross, possibly because the cat had jumped up again and was heading for his lap. ‘It’s only April!’
‘These clients have been coming for years,’ explained Gilly, setting Ulysses gently on to the floor. ‘They like to book well ahead to make sure of getting their favourite rooms.’
‘Well, could you ask them to rebook so they all come on the same weekend and you have a weekend free?’
‘Not really,’ said Gilly. ‘They’ve been coming on those weekends for years and there wouldn’t be room for them all at the same time.’ She realised she was repeating herself. ‘The weeks are freer. Why don’t we go midweek?’
‘I can’t go midweek. I work.’
‘September is a lovely month,’ said Gilly, dismissing the thought that she worked too at the same time as she fielded her cat who seemed determined to get on Leo’s lap. ‘Let me pencil in some dates for us to go away then.’ She quickly did so.
‘I’m sorry to be so impatient,’ Leo said. ‘I just want to take you away. If you sold this house and retired, you’d be freer.’ He got up from his chair and swiped at the cat hairs that had landed on him in spite of Gilly’s efforts to protect him.
Gilly laughed and realised it had sounded rather brittle. ‘That would be a rather drastic way of solving the problem,’ she said. ‘And it would take a lot longer than until September for it to be accomplished.’
‘I could expedite it. I’d have a buyer for this house in a flash. In fact, I’ve got someone—’ He stopped abruptly, possibly noticing Gilly’s reaction.
‘No need,’ she said crisply. ‘I don’t want to move.’
‘Don’t be too hasty to reject the idea. Think of the advantages. You’d be freeing up capital for your children, just when they need it most.’
‘I promise I’ll think about it,’ she went on. ‘Would you like more coffee?’ She got up, desperate to stop this horrible conversation. ‘I’ll make some.’
She was on her way back to the conservatory to check that Leo did actually want more coffee when the doorbell jangled. The old-fashioned bell was one of the things her clients particularly enjoyed and she opened the door with a smile. It was William.
‘I’m so sorry to trouble you, but Aunt Miriam thinks she left her hearing-aid batteries in the bedside drawer …’
‘Oh, easily done, I’m sure. I’ll pop up and look.’
‘I could go,’ said William.
‘It’s no trouble – I know which room Miriam was in. I thought I’d checked all the rooms before they left but I may have missed the bedside drawer.’
Gilly found the batteries and came back down the stairs. She paused. Leo had joined William in the hall and just for a second she had the impression that the two men were facing up to each other. Then as she arrived in the hall one of them moved but the tension still seemed to be there.
‘I was just saying what a valuable property this is,’ said Leo. ‘The market in this area is surprisingly buoyant. It’s a good time to sell.’
No one spoke for a few seconds – Gilly didn’t know what to say. Then William looked up at her and smiled very slightly.
‘Only if the owner wants to sell,’ he said firmly. ‘And I don’t think Gilly does.’
At first Gilly thought Leo was going to argue but he didn’t. But after William had gone, hearing-aid batteries safely in his pocket, Leo turned to Gilly.
‘Does your accountant always call you by your Christian name? You must visit him a lot, which rather implies things aren’t really working on a financial level. I can’t help thinking you’d be better off getting out of the B & B business and having a bit more spare time.’
‘I’ve got spare time now,’ Gilly said, although she hadn’t finished clearing the dining room or got the second load into the dishwasher, and then there were the beds to strip.
‘Sadly, I haven’t. But it’s been lovely to see you, Gilly.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘But now I must go and have a good look at that house of Martin’s. I’ll text you a time when I can take you out for lunch.’
‘Us boarding-house landladies always have time for lunch,’ said Gilly with a laugh, hoping he’d join in.
But he didn’t.
Chapter Twelve
Helena and Jago were making good progress on repointing the wall of the barn where Helena hoped to put her loom. They were up separate ladders on separate scaffolding towers putting lime mortar between tiny stone bricks. They’d been doing it for a couple of hours.
‘It’s kind of you to do this when you said you hadn’t got time,’ said Helena.
‘It was, but now I’m stiff and cold and want to stop,’ Jago replied. ‘Shall we call it a day?’
‘I feel I should press on but if you’re fed up you could go and make us some tea?’
‘OK. I have a few phone calls to catch up on. If you don’t mind carrying on on your own?’
‘Of course not. Hand me up the radio so I can choose my channel and I’ll be fine.’
Helena found something on Radio 4 to listen to – she needed talking not music if she was going to be doing something fairly mindless on her own – and carried on. Eventually she’d done everything she could without moving the scaffolding and climbed down. She was ready to call it a day now too and, having sorted out her equipment, went to find Jago.
‘Oh? Are you knoc
king off?’ he said. ‘I was just coming in with tea and snacks.’
‘I’ve done all I could reach. It’s just your corner now.’ She pulled out a chair and plonked herself down at the table. ‘How soon can I move my loom in?’
‘If you don’t mind being in a bit of a building site, whenever. The wall will have to be plastered. You’ll see that I took what you said about it looking like a prison to heart.’ He paused. ‘And the plaster will have to dry, before I can think about decorating. But that will take ages. If you don’t mind a bit of work going on around you, we can put it in next week.’
‘I don’t mind and its partly my fault.’ Helena took a piece of cheese on toast. ‘This is lovely!’
‘You deserve something nice. You’ve been working hard.’
‘Purely for my own ends,’ said Helena. She smiled, and then was embarrassed in case he read more than just heartfelt gratitude into the smile. ‘It’s going to be a wonderful space for a loom. Those huge doors looking out into the courtyard will make it magical in summer.’
She sighed happily. One of the joys of getting to know Jago so well while they pointed his wall together was that he now knew how to make her perfect cup of tea. ‘Although of course when you have a buyer for it I’ll have to find yet another home for my loom.’
He smiled. ‘I’m sure I can help you sort something out.’
‘Property developer that you are – you’ve always got some barn or other to do up.’ She patted his hand to make sure he knew she wasn’t having a go at him. He was a property developer but definitely one of the good guys.
He put his hand on top of hers. ‘Shall we call the cheese on toast a starter? Shall I cook you supper? Nothing fancy. Only with what I happen to have in the fridge and the cupboard, of course.’
‘I’ll go and get what I’ve got in my fridge. There’s some chorizo and some lovely little tomatoes.’
‘Excellent!’
On the way back to her studio Helena found herself thinking about her mother and Leo. He had escorted her to lovely places and her mother seemed to really like him. But would he make her happy in the long term? She’d feel a lot less worried when she’d found out why he’d been driving so fast that day, when he’d nearly killed her and her mother.
She wasn’t going to ask Jago what he’d managed to discover though, not tonight. Tonight she was just going to have a nice meal and a couple of glasses of wine with a man who threatened to become more than just a good friend in her heart. Which was fine, as long as no one ever found out about the heart bit.
Gilly was a bit taken aback by how quickly William’s aunts got their act together to arrange their mini-coach tour. She had hardly had time to change the sheets on their beds before Daphne was on the phone looking for dates.
‘We can come next weekend, if you could have us,’ Daphne said. ‘And have supper with you, too.’
Gilly looked at the diary and decided she could do that if she moved the one booking she had to her bed-and-breakfast friend.
‘Um – I wouldn’t be able to cook dinner if I was showing you the sights. Maybe—’
‘Yes, you would!’ said Daphne, not to be gainsaid. ‘Just do a casserole and put it in the range cooker. You could serve it with rice. I find that packet rice you put in the microwave very easy.’
Gilly couldn’t help smiling. Daphne was obviously one of those people who was used to getting their own way. ‘Well, it couldn’t be an extensive tour of the Cotswolds …’
‘We wouldn’t want that. We’re too old for too much culture. So we can come? Oh,’ Daphne added, ‘and we think William should drive. And we need a minibus so we have plenty of room. Now that’s sorted, I must go. See you soon!’
The moment Daphne had said goodbye Gilly rang William.
‘William!’ she said as soon as she was through. ‘I think Daphne is being a bit unreasonable!’
‘Only a bit? She must be on some new medication.’
Gilly laughed. ‘Seriously! She wants you to drive a minibus round the country for her and the rest of the gang.’ She paused, distracted. ‘Is there a collective noun for aunts, do you think?’
‘I think in this case it would be a Daphne of aunts,’ said William. ‘But don’t worry, she did warn me and I’m perfectly happy to do it.’
‘I’d drive them myself only I’m not entirely sure I’d be up to it.’
‘Also, I don’t think you could be a proper tour guide if you were wrestling a large vehicle down small lanes, while wrangling that crew of reprobates. I certainly couldn’t do both.’
‘That is really sweet of you. Your Daphne of aunts don’t know how lucky they are having a nephew like you.’
‘I think they do,’ said William. ‘And to be fair, only two of them are my actual aunts.’
‘Well, they want dinner afterwards so I do hope you’ll join us. In fact, I’ll channel my inner Daphne and insist that you do.’
‘But will you want to cook dinner after being with them all day? Wouldn’t you rather I booked us all in at the George?’
‘Oh no. Daphne told me that I could do a casserole and that microwave rice is very easy, so not a problem at all.’
William laughed. ‘In which case, I’d be delighted to accept. You will charge them a handsome amount, won’t you?’
Gilly didn’t answer. She hadn’t had a chance to work out how much to charge but her fondness for the ladies would have made her lenient.
Possibly knowing her better than she realised he went on, ‘I insist that you do! And you can’t hide anything from me, you know.’
Gilly laughed. ‘Oh, OK! I know my dinners are the “added extra” that boosts my profit.’
‘My work has not been in vain. See you on Saturday.’
Chapter Thirteen
The following Saturday the Daphne of aunts arrived a quarter of an hour before they were expected. They had booked a driver to collect them all from their various houses and, in spite of a traffic hold-up on the M4, had got to Fairacres in far less than the time they had allowed. Fortunately, Gilly was aware of Daphne’s passion for punctuality (which in her case meant being early).
‘How lovely to see you all!’ she said. ‘Do invite your driver in for a cup of coffee—’
‘Euphemism for a pee,’ said Daphne.
‘But also for coffee,’ Gilly persisted. ‘I expect he needs some after that long journey.’
‘Euphemism for he needs caffeine after driving a rabble of batty old ladies,’ said Daphne.
Gilly laughed. Daphne could have been a mind reader. ‘That too. I’ll go and get him. You come in anyway. I’m all ready. We just have to wait for William. He’s picking up the minibus.’
When everyone was installed in the minibus, sticks and walking aids to hand, Gilly turned round from her seat in the front next to William. ‘I feel like a proper tour guide. If I start holding up a rolled-up umbrella, talk me down gently.’
‘You carry on, darling,’ said Daphne. ‘We are as eager to follow you as a playground full of children after an ice-cream van.’
‘That’s a rather energetic analogy,’ said Mary, more thoughtfully. ‘But I like it.’
‘If everyone’s strapped in,’ said William, ‘we can go.’
Their first visit was to a little church which was not only historic but quite near a garden centre. Everyone loved a garden centre, especially one that had a huge outlet section.
Gilly had chosen the church for its history – it was a plague church, built a little way away from the village, but also because it wasn’t huge – it wouldn’t tire the old ladies too much.
‘Don’t come in with us,’ said Daphne firmly. ‘If you do we’ll feel obliged to look at everything and contribute generously to the upkeep of the building. You stay here and keep William company.’
‘I was looking forward to coming in,’ objected William. ‘I like old churches.’
‘So do I,’ said Gilly. ‘I picked this one particularly because it has high ratings on TripAd
visor.’
‘TripAdvisor!’ said Daphne, turning away from the minibus. ‘Pah!’
‘I do feel like that about TripAdvisor myself, sometimes,’ Gilly confided when she and William had got everyone safely into the church. ‘Shall we defy Daphne and go in?’
‘We could, but on second thoughts it might also be nice to go back to the minibus and sit quietly.’ He took her arm and they set off back in blissful silence.
Gilly and William sat in the minibus and said nothing until the ladies returned. It was indeed peaceful. As she and William assisted the aunts back into the minibus the thought flicked through her mind that being with Leo was always exciting. He liked to talk and talked well. Perhaps that was why she found him so attractive. Being with William was quite a different experience. She found herself enjoying the contrast.
As she predicted (only to herself) the ladies loved the garden centre and came back to the minibus laden with carrier bags.
‘We’ve all bought these super-comfy shoes,’ declared Daphne. ‘Mine are bright pink.’
‘It’s one of the joys of growing old,’ said Mary, having displayed her blue pair, ‘that you don’t care what you look like.’ She paused. ‘I don’t mean that exactly, but if it’s a choice between comfort and glamour I choose comfort every time.’
Gilly thought about this. Before she’d met Leo she’d have put herself in the comfort camp without hesitation. But would she let him see her in shoes like that? She doubted it. He was a man who appreciated elegant footwear – something resembling a gym shoe in dayglo colours would not meet his approval. Gilly appreciated lovely shoes too, but only if they were comfortable and, sadly, either she’d been unlucky or it wasn’t possible to have elegance and comfort at the same time.
‘Obviously you’re far too young to have to make those choices,’ said Daphne, mind-reading again. ‘But I don’t think anyone can look appealing if they’re in uncomfortable shoes.’