A Springtime Affair

by Katie Fforde

  ‘Why don’t you sit down and have some crumble and a glass of wine and tell us about it?’ said Gilly.

  Helena realised her mother was constitutionally incapable of turning away a potentially hungry person. Cooking and feeding people was so important to Gilly that Helena wondered if it was a way of compensating for her unhappy marriage and subsequent divorce.

  ‘I’ll just have a quick bath if that’s OK?’

  ‘I made a spare crumble for you anyway,’ said Gilly.

  ‘Oh, Mum! You’re so kind!’

  ‘I know Jago likes my cooking,’ said Gilly as if achieving this situation was somehow challenging.

  ‘Who wouldn’t?’ said William.

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ said Helena. ‘Not everyone appreciates Mum’s skill with butter and sugar. Now don’t let me disturb you any more. I won’t be long.’

  As she went up the stairs Helena realised that in spite of her cheery words she was in a state of mild shock. Coming home to find her mother entertaining a man was the last thing she ever expected. And while she didn’t disapprove of her mother having another man-friend, really quite soon after she’d got rid of Leo, now she’d had a few minutes to get used to the idea, William was her accountant. Wasn’t that a bit odd? Was it even legal? And making him that cake? She knew her mother loved baking but would she go to all that trouble for someone she didn’t care about? No, not even Gilly would do that. And she deserved all the happiness that came her way. No, it was fine for her to go out with whoever she liked, as long as they’d never nearly killed them in a car.

  Up in the bathroom, she was pleased to see her mother had stocked up on her favourite bath oil and there were a few candles around the edge of the bath. Helena was about to light them and luxuriate when she suddenly wondered if her mother had planned to light them at another time, when she was not alone!

  Helena had a quick bath, without candles, and then got out and dried herself briefly before pulling on her clothes again. She had to get out of the house as quickly as possible.

  To her relief, her mother was alone in the kitchen when she got back down. She was wrapping foil round a Pyrex dish.

  ‘Oh God, Mum, I’m so sorry! Interrupting your evening like that,’ said Helena. ‘I really should have called—’ A horrible thought struck her. ‘He hasn’t gone home, has he? William? I didn’t drive him away?’

  ‘No, darling. He’s just getting a fire going in the sitting room. I know it’s spring and all that but it’s really quite chilly.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all right, I would have hated to ruin your evening completely.’

  ‘No, darling, it’s fine! And you don’t have to rush off.’

  Gilly’s words said one thing, her body language quite another; Helena was fairly fluent in ‘Mum’ by now. ‘Yes I do. But I will certainly take the crumble. You know how much Jago loves your cooking.’ Then she realised her mother had said this earlier.

  ‘While we’re talking about Jago,’ said Gilly, pausing in her foil manipulations, ‘I just want to say while it’s sad he won’t be the father of my grandchildren, he’s still a really lovely friend. I don’t think you should have to worry about people knowing he’s gay. There’s no shame in it or even embarrassment.’

  Helena took a breath. Her mum thought Jago was gay. And while she had never thought it before, she suddenly wondered if Gilly was right. ‘Of course not—’

  ‘I think he’s far too nice to be heterosexual,’ Gilly was saying. ‘Although William is very nice too and he’s certainly—’

  ‘It’s OK, Mum,’ said Helena quickly. ‘I think William is lovely but I don’t think—’

  ‘You don’t think Jago is gay?’ Gilly had that sad but loving expression that parents take on when they tell you your goldfish has died. ‘Darling, he borrowed a hot-water bottle for you. I can’t think of any straight men who would be so thoughtful. Can you?’

  ‘Mum—’

  ‘I knew there was something not quite normal between you. I didn’t know what until it suddenly hit me. And while in some ways it is sad, as I said – he is so very handsome and the babies would be gorgeous – as long as he’s happy and …’ She paused. ‘I assumed you knew. You must be disappointed.’

  Helena didn’t know what to say. She only knew that she needed to find out if her mother was right as soon as possible. ‘Can you give me the crumble? I’ll sort this out with Jago in the morning.’

  ‘You don’t want to stay the night?’

  ‘Certainly not! You’re with your accountant – you probably want to talk business.’

  Gilly laughed. ‘Well, off you go now. And get in touch in the morning, or when you’ve had a chance to talk to Jago. But the friendship is the important thing.’

  The thought that Jago might be gay had never crossed her mind before but now it began to make sense. She drove home thinking back on their friendship. Who else would offer so much with no strings? It was his idea to pretend they were a couple to get everyone off their backs. Why would he do that if there was no reason? Maybe he hadn’t come out yet? Well, she’d ask him the moment she saw him in the morning.

  She was surprised to see his pickup in the yard. She’d thought he’d intended to stay over with his friend (another possible indication of his sexual preferences, she realised now). But the sight of it strengthened her resolve to speak. No time like the present. And she was armed with a crumble and carton of clotted cream. The timing was perfect!

  Jago was in the kitchen making a hot drink when she arrived.

  ‘Hey!’ he said, obviously pleased to see her. ‘I thought you were going to sleep over with your mum.’

  ‘I thought you were going to sleep over with your mate!’ Now the thought that Jago was gay was in her mind, Helena couldn’t get rid of it, and, yes, she was horribly disappointed at the thought.

  ‘To be honest, he’s so heartbroken about his girlfriend leaving he just wanted to get drunk and I wasn’t prepared to have a hangover along with him. I’m really sorry for him and all that, but friendship only goes so far. I found I just wanted to get back.’ He paused. ‘What’s your excuse?’

  Helena went to the cupboard to find some bowls. ‘Make me a cuppa and I’ll tell you. Mum sent crumble and clotted cream for us.’

  ‘God, I love your Mum!’ said Jago and flicked on the kettle.

  ‘She’s very fond of you, too,’ said Helena. Then, deciding it was best to get it over with, she went on: ‘In fact, she thinks you’re gay.’

  At first Jago seemed confused and then amused. ‘Why on earth would she think that?’

  ‘Because you’re so nice!’ said Helena, having filled the bowls.

  ‘Well, I can’t deny I’m nice but I am not gay. If I was gay, why would I keep it a secret? Here’s your tea.’

  ‘So you’re definitely not?’ She put down the crumble and handed Jago a spoon.

  ‘Definitely not.’

  ‘Oh, OK.’ Helena felt stupid now.

  Jago picked up his spoon and then put it down. ‘Will your mother stop making me crumbles if I’m not gay?’

  Helena began to see the funny side. ‘I don’t think so. She said you would have fathered gorgeous babies so she’ll take the news well.’ In fact, Gilly had referred to him fathering her grandchildren but Jago didn’t need to know that.

  ‘That’s a relief. I’d have been very sad if my hormones cut me off from your mum’s amazing cooking.’

  ‘Talking of hormones,’ said Helena, keen to change the subject – she was feeling such a fool – ‘let me tell me you why I didn’t stay the night. Mum had a man there!’

  ‘Not the creepy bloke, Leo?’

  ‘No! It was her accountant. They’ve known each other forever but I didn’t know there was anything going on between them.’

  ‘And it wasn’t just a friendly business dinner?’

  ‘I did wonder that for about five seconds but even if they were friendly, she wouldn’t give him dinner unless there was something else. And actually
, the look he gave her, he’s very smitten.’

  ‘Cool! She’s an attractive woman, your mother. It’s nice she’s got a bloke who’s into her.’

  ‘Jago! This is my mother we’re talking about!’

  ‘Everyone is entitled to a private life, even gay builders.’

  ‘But you said you weren’t gay!’

  ‘Would you like me to convince you just how ungay I am?’

  Helena realised that yes, she would. She stood up. He stood up. ‘How would you go about that, then?’

  He came round to where she was standing and put his fingers round her face. He tilted her face upwards. ‘Like this,’ he said firmly. And kissed her.

  After a while he said, ‘If you’re not convinced by now there are other things I could do to show you.

  Helena pretended to think about this. ‘Actually, I don’t think I am quite convinced.’

  ‘I would really hate for you to be in any doubt. Whose room? Yours or mine?’

  ‘Yours,’ said Helena. ‘Bigger bed.’

  Later, Jago came down to fetch the crumble. They ate it in bed before Jago did a bit more convincing.

  William and Gilly sat on the sofa in front of a fire that was more for effect than heat. It was very pleasant but Gilly was starting to get a bit impatient. She yawned.

  William, who had his arm round her shoulder, took it off. ‘I should be going. It’s late.’

  ‘Must you?’ Gilly was disappointed. ‘For once I haven’t got any guests …’

  ‘Well, not if you don’t want me to,’ said William at once. ‘I didn’t want to presume you’d want me to stay.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be presuming, William,’ she said. ‘It would be lovely.’

  ‘You know I never dreamed I’d find such happiness again after my wife died,’ said William. ‘I have had girlfriends, of course, but they’ve never come to anything. They most of them tried to persuade me to give up gliding. This time feels very different.’

  ‘It does to me too,’ said Gilly. ‘And I love gliding.’

  ‘I know you’ve had other offers—’

  ‘Please don’t remind me.’

  ‘Then I won’t. But let’s not tell Aunt Daphne that we’ve got together just yet. I think it would be very bad for her to think her matchmaking worked so quickly.’

  ‘She will be pleased though,’ said Gilly.

  ‘Delighted. But she’ll become power mad and think she can reorder the universe.’

  ‘If anyone can, it’s Daphne.’ She took a breath. ‘Now, let’s go upstairs …’

  In the very early morning, when William got up to go (bringing a change of clothes would have definitely been presuming, he insisted), Gilly looked at her phone. There was a text from Helena. Jago definitely not gay. Love, H.

  Gilly settle back into the pillows, deeply satisfied. If there ever were any, the babies would be adorable.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Helena didn’t rush to push her new-found happiness in her friend Amy’s face. Of course she would tell her, but Amy had been away and the time to share this news wasn’t now. Especially as the man Amy had had her eye on last month had not been interested in her. The perfect time would be when they were holed up in their favourite, regular Airbnb after the first day of World of Wool. She’d wait until they’d sunk half a bottle of wine and then tell all.

  On Friday evening they drove down together in Helena’s old Volvo that could pack everything in, as always exclaiming over the beauty of the countryside, debating and arguing the best way to get to a little corner of Wales that had no obvious route and getting excited when they finally arrived at the Airbnb.

  Setting up the next morning was always fun as, unlike at Springtime, they shared a stall. When they first arrived at their allocated spot, they always felt they’d never make their stall look attractive, and yet somehow they always managed it. It was Helena’s job to go on the first coffee and bacon butty run, finding the stall by following her nose. And she always came back with bits of news about who was there already, and who was expected, along with their breakfast. This time was no different and the show promised to be busier than ever.

  ‘Well, that was an amazing day, wasn’t it?’ said Amy as at last they unlocked the door to their little home for the night. ‘Best ever, I reckon.’

  ‘I think it was!’ Helena walked straight into the kitchen and found glasses. ‘Do we need a corkscrew?’ she asked. ‘There’s one just here.’

  ‘You know I always buy wine with proper corks, or we’ll lose the cork oaks,’ said Amy, but without emphasis. They were dog-tired but happy.

  When they both had wine and the ready meal was heating up in the microwave, Helena set to lighting the fire. It was one of their rituals and today they needed it more than in some years. Although it was late spring according to the calendar, the nip in the air said different.

  ‘I never know if we do this show to display our work or catch up with our mates, or both,’ said Helena, snapping twigs and piling them up carefully.

  ‘Definitely both,’ said Amy. ‘It’s so great being in our own tribe, surrounded by like-minded people who get us.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Helena. ‘It’s relaxing not having to pretend we’re something that we’re not. I loved doing posh Springtime, and we both made lots of money, but I felt a bit out of my depth. I’m an artisan, not an artist. The guys there today were all the same.’

  ‘Even if some of them look a bit as if they spun and knitted themselves?’ Amy was being provocative on purpose. ‘You’ve always been a bit more tolerant of the complete yoghurt knitters than I have.’

  In spite of Amy’s occasional snippy remarks, she had a heart of gold. Helena often thought the snippiness was partly to disguise her kindness.

  When she was confident her fire wouldn’t go out, Helena flopped back on to the sofa and picked up her wine glass. ‘So,’ she said, ‘what was the best thing you saw today?’

  ‘I’ll tell you what the worst thing was – that blanket that looked if it was literally made out of what was picked up from the cow-shed floor,’ said Amy. ‘But I did love that alpaca stuff. Such fine wool. I must get hold of some and give it a go. And did you see Elaine? Isn’t she looking great these days? She’s definitely better fatter.’

  They chatted on about the various people and projects they had seen, what was new and what was boringly the same.

  ‘I must say I was relieved that my wall hangings went down so well,’ said Helena, having stirred the beef and dumplings and put it on for a few more minutes. ‘I was quite nervous about them, I must say. My work is usually far more ordered than that.’

  ‘They worked very well artistically, and I loved the great chunky bits of fleece in them.’ Amy frowned. ‘Where did you get the idea from?’

  ‘Can’t I ever have invented anything? Do I always have to have got the idea from somewhere else?’

  ‘I’m sure your brain is a simmering mass of inspiration but I’m sure you said something about cake that I didn’t understand.’

  Amy got up to find bowls into which she put the stew. She carved two huge slices from a loaf they’d bought at the show and put thick slabs of Welsh butter on them. She brought it all over and set it down on the coffee table. Helena opened another bottle of wine. It was going to be that sort of night.

  ‘Yes, it was a cake my mother made for her boyfriend. I admit it.’

  ‘What? Gilly’s got a boyfriend! Oh – the silver fox my mum saw her with at the opera? That’s great!’

  ‘No, not him! He wasn’t such a great catch, it turned out.’ Helena went on to explain what was wrong with him until Amy was convinced.

  ‘So, tell me about this other boyfriend?’

  ‘Well, he’s her accountant so they’ve known each other for years but have only got to know each other properly just recently. The cake was for a surprise party his aunt gave him. It was a bird’s-eye view of what you see when gliding, apparently. Mum suspended a glider over it. I saw the pictur
es as well as the cake. And then I got the idea of doing a cross section of the earth.’

  ‘Well, they looked amazing. And you produced quite a lot of other work considering you’d cleaned yourself out for Springtime.’

  ‘That was because Jago was so amazing at looking after me so all I had to do was work.’ She paused. ‘I couldn’t have managed without him.’

  ‘I know you’ve been pretending you’re a couple – don’t think you can pull the wool over my eyes – excuse the pun – but are you really a couple now?’ Amy sounded wistful.

  ‘Yes.’

  Amy nodded slowly. ‘And you’re sure about this? Obviously you’ve had boyfriends but you always said they were just a bit of fun, and it was only very recently you said you didn’t have time for men.’

  ‘It’s amazing what you find time for when you fall in love.’

  There was a long silence. ‘So Jago is the real deal? The one, etc., etc.?’

  ‘Yup.’ To lighten the mood a little she added, ‘And in case, like Mum, you were wondering, he is definitely not gay.’

  ‘Gilly thought he was gay? Oh, that’s adorable! Why?’

  ‘Because he borrowed a hot-water bottle for me. She told me she thought hot-water bottles were camp.’

  ‘That’s so sweet! And so like Gilly.’

  ‘I know.’ They sat in silence for a little while, sipping their wine. ‘So, Ames, how was your holiday?’

  Amy had been on a yoga retreat, her unspoken agenda to find a man with a perfect and very supple body. ‘Lovely, inspiring, a real break but man-wise a total failure. There was this lovely guy on the course but there were more lovely women and he picked one of them.’

  ‘Oh, Amy, I am sorry.’

  ‘So, your perfect, hot-water-bottle borrowing hot-sex machine—’

  ‘I never said that!’

  ‘—hasn’t got a non-gay best friend, has he?’

  Helena laughed, relieved to hear her friend wasn’t too cast down by her failure to snag a yoga expert.