The Woolly Hat Knitting Club

by Poppy Dolan

  We’d love to talk more about sponsoring next year’s nationwide charity events and taking them to the next level. Shall we diarize? I’d love to get you in for half a day, because we’ve actually been in discussions here about expanding our corporate PR team, thinking a little more outside the box. And charitable works is definitely something we could do more of. I expect you’re considering a lot of new opportunities currently, but don’t forget us! We’d love to work with you again.

  Best wishes,

  Guy

  P.S. Is that really you knitting in one of the pictures? Is there anything you can’t do?!

  ‘Oh, you and that screen!’ Mags flops some tissue paper down over my iPad, but the glow of what I’ve just read stays with me, even if the words are now under thin, gold paper layers. Putting a big bank together with charities that desperately need their help would definitely keep my head and my heart happy. The old me would have dropped everything to rush out and call Guy in a heartbeat, but the new me will do it on Monday, because right now I’m with my favourite people doing something amazing.

  As Mags turns on the spot to head back into Mum’s kitchen, she winces, briefly clutching the top of her arm. In the week since the knitathon, she has taken some bold steps: arranging a month’s worth of full-time care for Extra Granny and booking a once-in-a-lifetime tour of Cambodia, Vietnam and Thailand with Stan. It’s at odds to her regular, everyday life but it still feels so totally right for her. She’s clicked with someone – so why wait? And Mags, maybe more than anyone else on the planet, deserves an escape. This morning she had her jabs and they’ve left her a bit sore, but she says she’ll still come and lend a hand in our mega wrap session. 457 hats aren’t going to post themselves. And especially not the way we want them to be sent.

  It was Becky’s idea, at the end of a very long and happy and productive day in that school hall, as we gazed at the little hills of hats before us, that we should send each one with a message of hope and support to a new mum. We might never meet them in person, but we want a little personal love to go their way, all the same. Since the premmie charity are happy to send a van to come and collect the hats from us the following week, we have a little window to sprinkle in that extra bit of magic.

  I was researching bulk-buy bargains of paper and gift tags when Ben came to the rescue. He’s been flat out in the office all week, but still finds time to pull a blinder. There were stocks of gold tissue paper in an office supply closet, left over from some champagne gifts given out to clients and so Ben decided to give them a new, worthier home while the rest of the office hopped about in a panic.

  I might just have let a gigantic cat out of the bag when I called Clive’s new boss on Monday. OK, so it was more like a Siberian tiger. She was so livid that she not only let Clive go (sorry, Clive, cheaters never prosper!) but she also called one of the board at my old company, who just happened to have been her mentor. When she relayed to him that I had been unfairly dismissed because there was the tiniest, thinnest rumour that I was pregnant, not to mention that my gender had been used against me to suggest a romantic relationship and that Devon hadn’t even given me half a chance to defend myself before booting me, her mentor called an emergency board meeting to have Devon put on unpaid leave and a full investigation into working practices kicked off. The newest rumour around the water cooler these days is that Devon is going to get not so much a golden handshake as a frosty wave from the window as he carries his cardboard box out onto the street. I would give him another hand gesture altogether, but the end result is just as good. And who knows, with this spotlight on how vulnerable female employees are, they might realize they need to put a woman in Devon’s spot and redress the balance. Maybe that’s worth another call to my new friend, Estelle, Clive’s boss. Ooops, ex-boss.

  With Devon now gone, an investigation in the works and clients like TechBank heading for the hills, Ben is doing his best to hold the rest of the team together and do some decent work in the middle of all that chaos. It’s not easy and a lesser person might have just shrugged and gone for an indefinite pub lunch, but I know that that’s not Ben. He’s generous and smart, and these days I don’t think that way just because he learned to knit for our campaign or because he’s been such an ace friend to my brother. I just think that. Because I fancy him.

  I pat my cheeks quickly, trying to shoo away the blush, but Becks catches my eye and smirks. ‘Are you sexting on your iPad?’ she whispers across the dining-room table, pulling a ribbon bow tight and waggling her eyebrows.

  ‘No!’ I hiss, but the blush keeps creeping on me. I wish I could say that was the filthiest thing she’s asked about me and Ben, but a quick scroll through her recent WhatsApp messages proves otherwise. During our first date she must have worn her thumbs to the bone, sending message after message, asking what he was wearing, what he said, where did I sit, did I touch his bum? Despite the cyber-stalking, though, it was really fun. We went for a curry in a timeless little place a few villages over, so as not to give Becks/Mags/JP the opportunity to walk past and snoop in on us. Ben and I talked about the things we’ve done, the things we still want to do, and the time just ran away until they were offering us complimentary brandies and putting chairs on tables. And yes, there was kissing. As soon as I’m done here I’m catching the train into London to meet him for post-work tapas, date number three. And yes, there will be more kissing.

  I pull my head away from the memory of the stubble on Ben’s jaw or the slightly rough feel of the tips of his fingers and focus back on the task at hand: this is our third session of wrapping and writing messages, and we have two days and 180-ish hats to go. Time to crack the whip and roll out the tape.

  ‘What message of hope have you been writing today?’ I try and read Becks’s loopy handwriting upside downfrom where I’m sitting.

  She smiles. ‘We’re with you.’

  ‘That is perfect. I’m nicking it.’

  ‘Oi!’

  ‘Ladies, ladies.’ JP gently pulls out a chair and flops down next to us. ‘Less fighting, more writing. Seeing as anything I try and scribble looks, well, like a scribble still. But I am ready to tape like a badass. Here,’ he swipes the hat I’ve been wrapping and finishes the edges in a jiff, ‘done.’

  I pull a gift tag from the big Jiffy bag filled with them. When JP told the charity how we’d like to send the hats on, they supplied little square gift tags with all their contact details printed on the back, so new mums can put it up on the fridge or in their purse and never be far from help. Such a smart move. Maybe something I’ll borrow in my new, charitable career direction. I’m definitely going to be asking Douglas’s opinions about it at our next session. And I will most definitely be showered for that one.

  We pick up our pace and fall into an easy rhythm of snipping ribbon, sticking paper and filling crates with our soft, treasured parcels. JP, Becks and I, with Mags bringing tea and sandwiches every now and again. Patti helped us out at the first two sessions but has shop work to do and a working visa to delay. Turns out, my brother is slightly more appealing that trendy art school and she’s going to defer by a term. JP won’t go into it in any detail – being a man – but has grunted ‘seeing where things go’ and ‘might learn a bit of German’ at me when I’ve pressed him.

  The boxes fill as we work in companionable silence. It would drive us mad to think of a different message for every single hat, so we recycle through We’re with you, You can do this, Help is here and If in doubt, eat cake! All from Becky’s experiences of what she needed to hear when she was a strung-out, depleted, anxious mum in the early weeks. As my hands pass over these little knitted caps, with their fuzzy stripes and cables and bobbles and even some Fair Isle beauties, I feel hopeful. I feel hopeful for all the warmth and security these little hats can bring. And I feel hopeful that we’ll make more next year, and more money to go alongside them. Because the hope these knitters have brought together with their crafty efforts has rubbed off on me too. I feel topped up with ha
ppiness, I feel part of a brilliant community, I feel…

  ‘Dee, didn’t you say you wanted to catch the 4.54 train? You’d better stop fondling that garter stitch and make a run for it.’

  I just have time to grab my bag, my keys and punch JP on the arm as I hurry to the door.

  A Beginner’s Pattern for a Newborn Hat

  This hat will be just right for a newborn baby up to 8lb. If you are a total beginner and you’re not sure about which yarn to buy, I’d recommend Sirdar Snuggly DK as it’s soft against skin and machine washable (which is a MUST for any new parent!). As much as you might want to splurge on a pure wool or cashmere mix yarn – and they do feel like heaven – it’s best avoided for this kind of project as you can only cool wash them.

  Don’t feel you have to stick to traditional pastel colour for a baby – go mad with bright, bold shades or even choose a yarn that has a Fair Isle effect within it so as you knit it magically changes colour! Unique is good when it comes to homemade things: in fact, it’s what it’s all about.

  If you’re in doubt that you’re choosing the right kind of yarn for this hat, the ball band (the paper wrapped around the yarn) will not only tell you what it’s made out of and how it can be washed, but it will also have a symbol that tells you what size needle to use with it. This looks like two crossed needles forming an X and one of the numbers around it will be in millimetres (mm): this is what you want to look out for, and in this case you want it to say 4mm.

  For this pattern you’ll need a pair of both 4mm and 3.75mm needles. These measurements refer to the diameter of the needles (rather than length!) and the narrower the needle, the smaller the stitch you’ll make. You start off with the smaller 3.75mm needles to make the ribbed band of the hat so it has a bit of grip to stay put! When the ribbing is done, the pattern will tell you to switch over to 4mm needles, so keep your eyes peeled…

  Check out YouTube tutorials for help with casting on and how to knit two stitches together (K2tog): it really is so much easier to watch someone do it then work it out from written instructions. You might need a few practice sessions in casting on to make sure you get the tension just right. Too tight and you’ll struggle to get your needles into your cast on stitches to knit from; too loose and you’ll get a holey, uneven first row.

  For measuring and making up, you’ll need a tape measure and a tapestry needle (this is a needle with a blunt end, which is the best kind for sewing up yarn.) So if you’ve got these and your yarn, your needles, plus your browser on standby for any problems, let’s go!

  Using the thumb method and your 3.75mm needles, cast on 70 stitches.

  The first 6 rows will be knitted in a 2 x 2 rib. This means you knit two stitches, then bring your yarn forward to purl the next two stitches. You take the yarn back again to knit another two. Carry on knitting two, then purling two for the whole row. On your second row, start with two purl stitches and carry on the rib pattern from there.

  When you have 6 rows of rib, change to your 4mm knitting needles. You’re now going to knit in stocking stitch. This means one whole row of knitting followed by one whole row of purling, carrying on until your work reaches the desired length of 8cm. When you’re measuring how much you’ve knitted, try not to be tempted to stretch the work too much or it won’t be an accurate measurement.

  With 8cm done, it’s time to decrease. This means you will start knitting two stitches at once when the pattern indicates to bring down the total number of stitches in a row. That allows the hat to start curving into a point at the top. If you’re not sure how to decrease, in this case knitting two stitches together (K2tog), now’s the time to watch a few YouTube tutorials and it will all become clear!

  For the 1st decreasing row: knit 7 stitches, then K2tog. Repeat this to the end of the row.

  On the 2nd and alternate rows: purl all the stitches.

  3rd: knit 6 stitches, then K2tog. Repeat this to the end of the row.

  5th: knit 5 stitches, then K2tog. Repeat this to the end of the row.

  You’ll have noticed that the number of stitches you’re knitting before you decrease is going down by one. Continue going down by one (and purling on alternate rows) until you have 12 stitches left on your needles and then purl one last row.

  Cut your yarn, leaving a long tail of about 25cm for the sewing up part. Using your tapestry needle, thread it with the cut end of the yarn and then carefully push your tapestry needle through the last stitches on your knitting needle. You can now slide out the knitting needle.

  Make a knot to fasten these last stitches in a circle, and now you can start sewing up the two sides of the hat. Again, search for some video tutorials of how to mattress stitch. You might need to practise a bit first – and keep checking to make sure both sides are coming together evenly. When you get to the end, fasten with a double knot on the wrong side of the knitting.

  Voila! You have knitted a gorgeous hat! Sit back and bask in the pride.

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, thanks to the whole Canelo team who are the BEST in the business bar none: Louise Cullen, Iain Millar, Michael Bhaskar, Nick Barreto, Simon Collinson and Ellie Pilcher. Especially Louise, my editor, who has an endless well of patience, enthusiasm and insight. Which you need to edit me, frankly. Thanks for shaping this novel so beautifully. Also a big fan-girly thumbs up to Emma Graves for this and all my lovely covers.

  Thanks to Mike – you’ve not read one of my books yet. Maybe number five? Sound out the long words as you go. You’ll get there.

  Thanks JP, for the lend of your name. I left out the twinkling eyes, though. Some things words just can’t capture…

  Kirsty Greenwood, as ever you’re my goddamn rock. Love you.

  I genuinely believe in the calming, healing powers of knitting (and any craft, really) and if you read this novel and are tempted to pick up a pair of needles, all I can say is: do it! You won’t be sorry. And you’ll never be without a woolly hat, ever again.

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by Canelo

  Canelo Digital Publishing Limited

  57 Shepherds Lane

  Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU

  United Kingdom

  Copyright © Poppy Dolan, 2017

  The moral right of Poppy Dolan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781911591269

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Look for more great books at www.canelo.co