‘Really? But why? They’re doing so well for other designers.’
‘Yes!’
‘And every woman needs a bag. Several bags!’
‘I know and I kept saying that,’ Dana told her.
‘But that’s a crazy decision!’ Abi declared. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t get worked up over decisions made after she’d left the company, but it was proving hard when she heard news like this.
‘I’m going to keep fighting it, but I think the decision’s been made,’ Dana told her. ‘It’s so frustrating. They were beautiful bags.’
‘Beautiful and useful,’ Abi said, remembering her William Morris.
‘A rare combination,’ Dana agreed. ‘So often, you’ll buy a bag because it’s pretty and you can only fit your lipstick and credit card inside.’
‘I designed those bags so that you could fit at least one good-sized paperback book, a bottle of water and your lipstick and credit card!’
‘I know!’
Abi took a big deep breath and sighed it out, trying to calm herself. She wasn’t the boss of the company anymore. She wasn’t in London. She was unemployed and she was sitting in her garden in the middle of the day. She had no right to pass judgement on decisions that were being made by the people she’d handed power over to. And yet, it hurt, she had to admit. Something she’d put every fibre of her being into was being changed. It wasn’t hers any longer. She wasn’t even being consulted. But wasn’t that what she’d agreed? She’d signed her rights away when she’d sold everything.
‘I knew I shouldn’t have told you,’ Dana said, pouting.
‘No – I want to know,’ Abi insisted. ‘Well, I thought I did. Maybe I shouldn’t, though. If things happen in the future, maybe you shouldn’t tell me. I mean, what can I do with that kind of information now?’
‘Do you miss it all?’ Dana asked.
Abi stared deep into the garden, her gaze softening slightly as she focussed on a sunflower whose petals had only just opened to the summer. She looked at the vibrant yellow, the unadulterated beauty of it and then she turned to Dana.
‘No, I don’t miss it.’
And she knew she was speaking the truth of her heart even though her answer surprised both her and Dana. But Abi didn’t miss the sleepless nights worrying about staffing issues and whether or not she was going to be able to come up with new designs each season, and what the trade would think of them, and how the public would respond to them. She didn’t miss the noise of London with the crush of the tube, she didn’t miss the neighbours in the house opposite who loved to throw parties starting at ten in the evening which would only end once the dawn chorus started.
‘But I do miss you,’ Abi confessed to her friend.
Dana grinned. ‘And how are you?’ she asked Abi. She’d already asked the question before when Abi had picked her up at the station and Abi had responded casually, but Dana’s voice was serious now, needing more than a quick and flippant response. ‘Abi? Have you been okay?’
‘I’ve been fine.’
‘Yes, you said that before.’
‘And it’s true.’
There was a pause – the first awkward one between them since Dana had arrived.
‘Have you slowed down at all?’ Dana asked after a moment.
‘Yes, of course I have!’
‘Because this place looks like a lot to run.’
Abi shook her head. ‘It’s a pleasure to take care of. Honestly – it’s been a kind of therapy restoring this garden.’
‘But you need to take care of yourself, Abi. Not just the house and garden. You know what the doctor–’
‘Yes, I know,’ Abi interrupted, and then she felt bad. Dana was only showing her love for her so Abi reached out and placed her hand on her friend’s arm. ‘I’m taking things slowly, I promise you. Early nights, plenty of fresh air and exercise. There’s nothing out here but fresh air and exercise.’
Dana laughed. ‘Well, you do look good, I have to say. Retirement suits you!’
‘Cheeky! I’m not completely retired, you know! Just resting between amazing projects.’
They both laughed and Abi had to admit that she missed the happy sound of the laughter of a friend.
They walked around the garden after that, Abi telling Dana her plans for the place – the flowers she was going to grow and the fruit and vegetables she hoped to harvest later in the year.
‘You know, I always kind of thought that your designs were those of a natural gardener,’ Dana said. ‘I mean, I knew you didn’t have a garden of your own in London. Perhaps you were creating hundreds of different gardens in your designs.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Abi said with a smile. She’d never thought of it like that before.
After she’d dropped Dana off at the train station and returned to Winfield, she stood by the French doors looking out into the garden again. As she’d hugged Dana goodbye, her friend had whispered, ‘Take care,’ and it was said with great meaning and emphasis as if Abi hadn’t always taken good care of herself. And perhaps she hadn’t. She did her best to push to the back of her mind what she referred to as her little wobble. But she had definitely been in a bad place for a while not so long ago. The years of designing and the constant pressure of travelling between shops, the exhaustion of trade shows both in the UK and abroad had all taken their toll. When Abi thought about it now in the peace and tranquillity of her new surroundings without a timetable to keep to, she realised how exhausting it had all been. No wonder she’d had her little wobble. Anybody would have. Being creative was enough of a physical drain without the added pressure of running an international business.
To say nothing of the other little thing she’d had going on at the same time, she thought, closing her eyes for a moment, but trying not to sink into the sadness once again because it would be all too easy to do that.
The truth was, Abi had burnt out. Her doctor had said she’d had a breakdown, but she thought that was a little melodramatic. But she’d realised she’d been stressed and exhausted and an emotional wreck. She knew she had to stop what she was doing, rethink things and start again.
And that’s what I’m doing now, she told herself as she walked out into the garden again, the early evening sun warm on her bare limbs and the promise of the rest of the summer to comfort and heal her.
* * *
But it wasn’t just Abi who had plans for her summer. Her sister Ellen had plans for them too. Abi had just placed a large sheet of paper on her table, weighted down with pretty stones from a recent trip to the beach as she had the French doors open and there was a slight breeze, and was about to attempt to plan her garden in more detail. But the phone interrupted her and caller ID told her that her day had been robbed from her already.
‘Douglas is home,’ Ellen blurted without any sort of preamble when Abi answered.
‘How lovely!’ Abi chimed. ‘For long?’
‘No, not for long, but we need to spend some time together.’
‘That’ll be nice.’
‘So I need you to take the girls.’
Abi bristled. Not that she didn’t want to spend every moment she could with her nieces, but it was the tone the demand was made in that irked her. She’d known that moving closer to her sister would have its downsides as well as its ups, but she sincerely hoped that she wasn’t going to be roped into the role of babysitter every five minutes.
‘Okay,’ Abi said.
‘Can you come and get them? I don’t have time to drive over and you’re not doing anything, are you?’
Ah, Abi thought – the great misconception that, if you work from home, you’re never really doing anything.
‘Of course I can come,’ Abi said meekly, setting a dangerous precedent for herself in the future. ‘When?’
‘Now.’
It wasn’t a question. Abi was just expected to drop everything and be there.
‘I’ll see you as soon as I can,’ Abi said, ending the call and glancin
g down at the blank sheet of paper that was going to remain blank for at least another day. She walked towards the French doors and, taking a wistful look at the garden beyond, closed them.
When she reached her sister’s, she found a house full of chaos. Douglas had left a pile of bags in the hallway which Abi promptly tripped over after Bethanne had let her in.
‘They’re fighting in the kitchen,’ her niece told her matter-of-factly.
‘I can hear,’ Abi said, giving Bethanne a hug. Rosie ran into the hallway from the living room.
‘Are you taking us for chips again?’ she blurted.
Abi shushed her quickly.
‘Don’t worry, they won’t hear us,’ Bethanne said as Abi gave Rosie a hug.
‘How would you two like to spend the day at Winfield with me?’
Rosie looked confused. ‘But Daddy’s just come home.’
‘I know, sweetie. But I want to spend some time with you – just for a few hours. Then I’ll bring you back in time for tea with Daddy, okay?’
Rosie nodded, knowing she was defeated, but in the nicest way possible.
‘Come and see Daddy,’ Rosie said, leading her by the hand towards the kitchen where voices were still raised.
‘Ellen?’ Abi called ahead, warning of her approach.
The raised voices stopped.
‘Abi?’
As Abi entered the kitchen, Ellen crossed the room towards her and they hugged. Abi wasn’t used to such a welcome.
‘Thank goodness you’re here!’ Ellen said. ‘The girls are ready, aren’t you?’
Bethanne and Rosie both nodded.
‘Do I get a cuppa first?’ Abi joked.
‘Yes, of course,’ Ellen said, turning to switch the kettle on.
‘Hi Douglas,’ Abi said.
‘Hi Abi.’ He looked tired, Abi thought, and his skin was pale against his dark hair. They embraced. ‘You okay, Abs?’
‘Very well. How about you?’
‘Can’t complain,’ he said. ‘How’s the new home?’
‘Amazing! I’m just working on the garden now. There’s so much to do and I’m not quite sure what I’m doing, but it’s fun learning.’
‘I’ll have to come and see it sometime.’
‘Yes, please do! When you’ve got some spare time.’
He laughed at that. ‘Yeah, I wonder when that will be.’
‘You’ve been busy, haven’t you?’
‘Yes. They’re keeping me entertained, that’s for sure.’
‘And he’s only here for the weekend,’ Ellen said pointedly, handing Abi her mug of tea. ‘Can you make sure the girls have everything they need? They’ve had brunch, but will need something to eat in the afternoon.’
‘I do know how to feed children, Ellen,’ Abi said, trying to sound light-hearted, but she could see the strain on her sister’s face so drank her tea quickly. ‘Okay, we’ll be off. Douglas, it was lovely to see you again.’
‘Short but sweet,’ he said with a knowing smile.
‘We’ll catch up soon, okay?’
‘You bet.’
‘Come on then, girls,’ Abi said, rounding up her nieces and making sure they had everything they wanted to bring.
‘It’s not fair that we don’t get to see Daddy,’ Rosie said as they left the house and got into Abi’s car. ‘Mummy’s keeping him all to herself.’
‘Well, sometimes mummies and daddies need alone time together,’ Abi said, making sure they both put their seatbelts on in the back.
‘Why?’ Rosie demanded as Abi got into the driver’s seat.
She sighed, glancing in the rear-view mirror at her attentive nieces who wanted answers. How was she going to explain to them, she wondered?
‘Have you got a best friend, Rosie?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Annabel.’
‘And do you like spending time alone with her?’
‘Yes because she’s my best friend.’
‘And you don’t always want to be in a big group and share her with others?’ Abi suggested and Rosie nodded.
‘Well, it’s kind of like that with mummies and daddies. Only different.’
‘How different?’ Rosie asked.
‘You’ll find out when you’re older.’
Rosie sighed. ‘Grown-ups always say that!’
Abi grinned and they drove in silence for a while with the girls gazing out of the windows. Abi was glad to see them doing that and not glued to some electronic device as soon as they were settled. She grieved for the youngsters who were always plugged into some device or other and had no concept of the pure joy of simply gazing and letting the mind drift. They were missing out on whole worlds of wonder – thoughts and feelings that lived deep inside them and that might never be awakened because they were always being overridden by external stimuli. Abi often wondered what sort of a child she would have been if she’d been growing up now. Would she be addicted to social media and the world of gaming? Would she have missed her true artistic calling or would she still have grown to be the same person she was today?
As they left the main road and drove along the winding lanes across the downs, Abi pondered these thoughts a little longer, glancing quickly at her nieces on the backseat who were still staring happily out of the windows.
‘So, what do you want to do today?’
‘Can you teach me how to paint designs?’ Bethanne piped up.
‘In one afternoon?’ Abi said with a laugh, but then she bit her lip. She could see that Bethanne was in earnest. ‘We can certainly do something. Let me have a think.’
Bethanne looked happy at that. ‘Mum keeps tidying my paints away and telling me to concentrate on maths.’
‘Oh, dear!’ Abi said, screwing her face up and knowing just how painful that was to a fellow creative. ‘Well, you can take up as much space and make as much mess as you like at mine. It’s what I do all the time.’
‘I’m definitely going to live on my own when I’m older,’ Bethanne said.
Abi smiled. ‘Well, it certainly has its advantages.’
They reached Winfield Hall and, as soon as the girls were out of the car, they ran through to the walled garden to let off some of the steam that Ellen probably didn’t always allow her girls to release.
Abi went in through the front door, carrying the bags her nieces had brought with them. She switched the kettle on and reached for the biscuit tin. Jammy dodgers were another thing Ellen frowned upon, but they were exactly what young girls loved after a run around, Abi thought. She put a few on a plate of her own design featuring a pattern called Strawberry Jam which, after her iconic Sunflowers, was one of her personal favourites – and then she opened the French doors.
‘Come on in, girls!’
They both arrived panting a moment later and Abi gave them a tumbler each of iced water and then grabbed her own cup of tea before sitting down at the table which overlooked the garden.
‘Mummy called Daddy a plonker,’ Rosie suddenly declared.
Abi spluttered on her cup of tea, only just managing not to spill it.
‘What’s plonker mean?’ Rosie asked.
Abi’s mouth dropped open and she looked across to Bethanne who simply shrugged as if she either didn’t know or just wasn’t sure how to help Abi answer.
‘Erm, I think it means your mum was tired.’
‘Oh,’ Rosie said.
‘He’s been away a lot,’ Bethanne said.
‘He’s always away,’ Rosie droned.
‘And the first thing he says when he comes home is that he’s going away again.’
‘Oh, dear, that’s a shame,’ Abi told them. ‘But it’s difficult for him too, you know. He wants to be at home as much as you want him to be home.’
‘Then why does he keep going away?’ Rosie asked.
‘Because he has to work. That’s what grown-ups do,’ Abi said. ‘You have to have a job to earn money to pay for everything. Like your home and
your new clothes and food.’
‘I don’t need new clothes,’ Rosie declared. ‘Well, not all the time. Just sometimes.’
The three of them polished off the jammy dodgers and then Abi tidied the table.
‘Now, you wanted to paint, didn’t you?’ she said to Bethanne. ‘Rosie – do you want to join us too?’
Rosie nodded. ‘I’ve got a book I can paint in – look!’ She ran across the room and grabbed the book from her bag. It was a beautiful colouring-in book of the natural world.
‘Perfect! I’ll get you some paints.’
Once Rosie was happily sitting at the table with a box of paints, making a glorious mess in bold primary colours, Abi heaved a wooden box into the centre of the living room.
‘What’s that?’ Bethanne asked.
‘Shall we open it?’
Bethanne’s face lit up and she nodded.
‘This is my box of inspiration,’ Abi said. ‘Well, one of them. I have quite a few. Bags too. And cupboards.’
Bethanne giggled and then gasped as Abi opened the lid.
‘This is the one I fill with fabric,’ Abi explained. ‘Every little piece of fabric from my childhood that I couldn’t bear to part with is in here. I would cut out pieces from favourite dresses and things I’d find in jumble sales – whatever they were – I never had a preference. I loved everything from florals and tartans to spots and stripes.’
Abi watched as Bethanne’s hand tentatively dipped into the box, her eyes fixed in concentration.
‘Don’t be afraid. They’re not too delicate to handle so you can pick anything up you like the look of.’
Bethanne became braver and Abi watched the emotions flick across her face, recognising each and every one of them as those which she had experienced herself on seeing the pieces of fabric for the first time.
‘Why not pick a few out for inspiration before we start painting?’ Abi suggested.
Bethanne nodded and rifled through the heaps of fabric with purpose now.
‘I like this piece,’ she said a moment later, holding up a piece of pink and white chintz, ‘with this piece.’
Abi looked at the pairing she’d made – the chintz next to the sky-blue check was an inspired choice.
‘That’s good,’ she said.
The House in the Clouds Page 11
