by Katie Fforde
Leo smiled and shook his head. ‘Driving. But I’d love a cup of tea and maybe a piece of the shortbread you put in every room.’
‘There’s always plenty of that,’ said Gilly. ‘Let’s go through to the conservatory and look at the view,’ she said, putting two mugs and a plate of biscuits on a tray.
He took the tray from her hands. ‘Lead the way,’ he said.
Gilly had the very short time it took them to go from one room to another to work out why she found these words so very sexy.
Chapter Six
Helena got back from taking her mother home in a state of repressed anger. She’d been keeping a lid on her outrage all day and now she nearly scraped the side of her car when she pulled up outside her home.
Jago was in the yard and came over. ‘Everything all right?’ he said as she got out of the car.
‘Fine thanks. I didn’t hit anything,’ said Helena.
‘Forgive me but you said that as if you wished you had hit something – or someone.’
In spite of herself Helena laughed. ‘Very perceptive of you. I am in a bit of a strop.’
He regarded her for a few moments as if debating the wisdom of his next words. ‘Would you like to come and have a glass of wine and tell me about it? I can no longer offer you a cat to cuddle. Zuleika and her kitten have gone back to my sister.’
‘I saw them leaving, but even without them, that’s a very tempting idea. Especially if you’ve got a fire going. I’ve spent the day in a glass house – not a heated one.’
‘With people you don’t awfully care for, I can tell. Wait till you’ve had half a glass of wine and then you can really let rip about them.’
Helena went into her own house first, to use the loo and check on her hair. Cressida always made her wish she’d spent hours coaxing it into fat curls that ended on her shoulder, like the woman who helped Lord Sugar on The Apprentice. Only Helena never quite had the time or inclination. Now, as it was a mess, she put it in a loose plait and went across to Jago’s. The thought of wine, a fire and a good old grump about her sister-in-law was calling to her.
‘If you pull your chair right up to the fire you feel some heat and, more importantly, overlook the fact you’re sitting in a building site,’ said Jago. ‘One day it’ll be my “des res” but now – well, you can see how it is.’
‘Oh, this is lovely!’ said Helena. ‘I didn’t think you’d actually have a fire, it being April and all.’
‘April is the coldest month,’ he misquoted, handing her a very large glass of red wine. ‘And I always have lots of wood that needs burning. You start on that’ – he indicated the wine – ‘I’ll bring in some bread and cheese. You don’t have to join me but I’m starving.’
‘I’m hungry too. And I’ve got shortbread we can have for pudding.’
‘Shortbread?’
‘My mother makes it as a reflex action. She has a B & B and puts it in the guest rooms. She gives any that are left over to any passing person and it’s often me. I’ll get it later.’ For now all she wanted was to sink into the extremely shabby, exquisitely comfortable armchair, sip her wine and look into the flames.
When they had both eaten quite a lot of the sourdough loaf and selection of cheeses with strange-sounding names that he produced, along with another glass of wine, Jago said, ‘So tell me.’
Helena sighed the sigh of the replete person who never stayed angry for long. ‘It’s my sister-in-law.’
‘Yes?’
‘She seems to want my mother to sell her house so she and my brother can buy a mansion with seven bedrooms and a horrid granny flat. My mother would live in the granny flat and look after their child.’ She paused. ‘Mind you, me and Mum both feel that Issi – short for Ismene, but we’re not allowed to shorten it – is a bit thin and could benefit from Mum’s cooking.’
Jago considered. ‘People who call their child Ismene could be capable of anything.’
Helena checked to see if he was teasing and while he was twinkling a bit, his look was basically sympathetic. ‘My worry is that Mum will actually do it. She says she won’t but she’s a bit soft; I can’t totally rely on her to stand firm.’
‘When you say soft, you mean stupid?’
‘No! I mean soft-hearted, too kind. I promise you, she can’t pass a homeless person without giving them money and she never comes back from London without at least ten copies of the Big Issue.’ She paused. ‘If she gets lost, which she does all the time, she asks a Big Issue seller and gives them a tenner for their trouble.’
‘Oh, that is kind-hearted.’
‘And I don’t mind that, or the fact that she cries at almost anything she sees on telly – I can’t even go with her to the cinema – but it’s the worry that when Cressida suggests she’s being selfish, keeping her big house when they could do with most of its value, guilt will make her say: “Yes, that’s true, here you go, darling.”’
‘Did your sister-in-law suggest that?’
‘No, but she will, and Mum will cave in. And she had to work so hard to keep the house after the divorce.’
Explaining what happened – her mother selling the orchard and land for a building plot, something that caused such heartache at the time when no one knew who might buy it and what kind of a property her mother might find next to hers – Helena took another glass of wine, and she knew she would probably wake with a hangover.
‘So what did happen?’ asked Jago, putting down the bottle. ‘Who bought it?’
‘Actually a lovely couple who built a kit house but it looks really nice and they get on well so it all worked out. But poor Mum was beside herself. She had to have hypnotherapy to get through it.’
‘And did that work?’
‘Brilliantly.’ Helena paused and started to get up out of her chair. ‘Thank you so much for the wine and the moan, not to mention the bread and cheese, but I should get back. I have so much work to get through while I still have a space to do it in.’
‘You promised me shortbread. You know builders live on biscuits.’
‘Oh! I’d forgotten. I’ll pop back and get it. It’s still in the car. I usually have to give it away because if I ate all Mum gives me I’d be fat as a pig.’ She laughed. ‘I’ll tell Amy I gave it to you and she’ll be pleased. Mum too.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because they’ll think I’m flirting with you, showing normal human behaviour in the presence of a single male. Mind you, we never found out if you are or not.’
‘I am,’ he said quickly. ‘Very single.’
Helena looked at him with a narrow gaze, suddenly aware of how attractive he was.
‘I’m just a man who has no time for romance.’ He said it as if he had no wish to elaborate.
‘Well, there’s something we have in common! Why is it people find it so difficult to accept that one can be perfectly normal but not want to spend time looking for a life partner!’ Helena realised she was just a little bit drunk and her filters were down but she didn’t stop. ‘I don’t want to spend my time on dating apps! I want to be weaving, not swiping left or right, saying yes or no to someone I’ve never met who is bound to be boring. My friends seem to think that I should see every man under seventy as a potential partner.’
He seemed amused. ‘Under seventy? Your friends are tough. I wouldn’t have thought you should look at anyone over about forty myself. Because – how old are you?’
‘Twenty-seven.’
‘Well, make that under thirty-five unless you fancy older men.’
She couldn’t help laughing. ‘I don’t fancy any kind of man – well, I don’t mean that exactly; I do fancy men sometimes but I don’t want to do anything about it. Not just now. I’ve got too much on.’
‘That’s exactly how I feel. I can appreciate a pretty girl or a lovely woman but I’m not going to ask her out. I haven’t time to maintain a relationship. And, like houses, they need maintaining.’
‘And you’re too busy maintaining your proper
ty empire,’ said Helena and then hoped it didn’t look as if she was having a dig.
‘I am! Being a slum landlord is very hard work!’
She laughed. ‘I wouldn’t describe you as a slum landlord.’
‘I’m flattered.’ He considered for a moment. ‘Here’s an idea. Supposing we have an arrangement where if one of us needs a partner to go to anything, or wants to get a matchmaker off our backs – Lord, how I hate matchmakers – we can use the other person, say we’re an item.’
Helena exhaled slowly. ‘I don’t actually hate my matchmaker. Amy is my best friend and my mother doesn’t matchmake often, she just sighs and clamps her lips shut if any of my friends has a baby. I’m not sure it would work.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ve been determinedly single for so long. I’m not sure anyone would believe it. It’s so hard to make a living as a craftsperson, I haven’t had time to look for a partner as well.’
‘They don’t have to believe we’ve fallen in love. But if you took me along to something that had Amy or your mum at it, for example, you could just say it’s early days when they ask if we’re an item—’
‘And they will ask,’ said Helena. ‘They will explode.’
‘Of course my mates would tell me I was punching.’
‘What?’
‘Above my weight,’ he explained. ‘But I’ll just shrug in a casual way and say, “If you’ve got it, you’ve got it.” I’ll channel Joey in Friends.’
‘That’s a brilliant plan. And I’ll get the shortbread immediately!’ said Helena. ‘Joey eats everything!’
‘Actually, hang on a minute. I’ve just had an idea. Somewhere you might be able to put your loom for – say – at least another six months.’
‘Well, that’s amazing!’
‘It might not be that amazing. The room needs an awful lot doing to it to make it useable and I can’t do the work.’
‘So …’
‘You’ll have to do it.’
‘Listen, mate, I like DIY as much as the next girl, but I’m not a builder.’
He laughed. ‘You don’t need to be a builder.’ He hesitated. ‘Would you like me to show it to you now? It’s not far.’
Helena suddenly felt very tired and regretted drinking so much wine. ‘Actually, I don’t think now is a good time. I’m a bit drunk and I’d probably say yes to something I’ll think is a really bad idea in the morning.’
He laughed. ‘I’ll come with you to your car and get the shortbread. And I’ll knock on your door tomorrow and arrange a time to see the building.’
When Helena was in bed, reading a couple of pages of her book, she realised she’d spent the nicest evening with a man that she had for a long time. She had resolved to give Amy a little lecture on the benefit of platonic friendships when she stopped herself. Much better to stick to Jago’s plan of letting everyone think they were together. Then Amy would stop going on about her trying to find a boyfriend. She could say she had one and Jago would back her up. She felt very satisfied, not to say smug. Helena was glad now that Amy, after her brave words about checking Jago out, had confessed to her that she actually had her eye on someone else just at the moment and so wouldn’t mind Helena claiming Jago. Everyone would be happy! She even fancied Jago a bit, which would make the whole charade a bit more realistic. Result!
It was about ten when Jago turned up the following day. He was holding the empty shortbread tin.
‘I can’t believe you’ve eaten it all already!’ Helena said when she saw him.
‘No, although it was absolutely delicious. I put what I didn’t eat into another box. I popped over to arrange a time to go and see this building.’
Aware that he was busy and it was very kind of him to try to find her somewhere for her loom, Helena said, ‘When is good for you?’
‘Now, actually. I could start another job but then I’m due over at another part of my vast empire.’ His tone was expressionless and it made Helena smile.
‘I could do now too. Just let me get a jacket. It’s still not warm, is it?’
A few minutes later she swung herself up into his pickup.
‘It’s not far, we could walk really, but we’re both busy,’ he said. ‘It’s an old barn I’m converting. But it’s not a priority – haven’t currently got the cash to do it up.’
‘I’m never sure about barn conversions,’ said Helena. ‘How on earth do you heat them? They’ll never be cosy with the heat going straight up to the rafters, which would get dusty and be hell to clean.’
He laughed. ‘You’re probably right about the rafters, but underfloor heating solves the other problem. This’ll have a wood burner as well. For the look of it really. When I’ve finished, it’ll be energy neutral, more or less.’
‘Oh, very green!’
‘I try to be. I hope to sell this one for loads of money and then I can reinvest in some more affordable housing.’
‘Very philanthropic,’ she said, but more seriously this time.
‘I try to be,’ he repeated.
Helena glanced across at him and caught him looking suddenly very serious. There was a glint of real determination in his expression. She looked out of the window quickly. There was something behind the jolly-builder exterior of Jago she didn’t want to disturb.
He pulled back a large sliding door to a substantial barn. It was empty of agricultural trappings but although there was a wooden floor and staircase, indicating where the bedrooms would be, the rest was still as it had been when it had been a working building.
‘So you see, it’s a work in progress,’ he said. ‘You could put your loom in here in return for a bit of lime mortaring.’ He indicated the huge gable end of the barn.
‘Just a bit. Can’t you plaster it?’
‘I could but people love a bit of exposed stone and I’m building to sell here.’
‘I think too much exposed stone makes it look like a prison,’ said Helena, aware she might be doing herself out of a work space.
‘I like to give buyers a certain amount of choice. I’d need to point it anyway. Those gaps in the stone need filling, whatever the final finish is.’
‘It’s a big space!’
‘Too big?’ he asked. ‘I’ve got industrial heaters you can use if you feel cold.’
‘Summer is on its way – they tell us – and if I could just be in here until I’ve done enough work for my big exhibition that would be great.’
‘Presumably it takes a while to set the loom up?’
She nodded. ‘It does. But as I insisted on having a large loom instead of just the small ones that Amy has, I have to pay the price. I can do much bigger stuff on a large loom.’
‘I haven’t met Amy yet. I’ve been remiss as a landlord.’
She laughed. ‘We must make a plan so we can get together. If I don’t do it, she will! And when she’s met you, we can tell her, and for the moment her only, that we’re an item. I can’t wait to see her reaction!’
Helena couldn’t help feeling relieved that she had seen Jago before Amy had. Whoever Amy had her sights on just this minute may well have not got a look in had she seen Jago.
Chapter Seven
‘Mrs Claire? It’s Leo Simmons, the house valuer.’
Gilly wouldn’t have admitted to anyone how excited she was to hear Leo’s voice at the other end of her landline, a couple of days after he had valued the house – and not because she was desperate to know the value.
‘Gilly, please. Hello, Leo.’
He laughed softly. ‘Hello, Gilly. I’ve rung to tell you how much your house is worth.’
‘Go on then. I’m keen to know.’
‘Well, I hope you’re sitting down.’
‘Goodness,’ she said when he had told her. She’d thought she had a rough idea of how much her house was worth; this was quite a lot more.
‘Don’t make any hasty decisions,’ said Leo, ‘but if you do decide to sell, I’d be delighted to advise you. While I’m not really a
n estate agent – more a property consultant – there are a lot of charlatan estate agents out there and I could help you stay out of their clutches.’
‘I’ll definitely consult you if I decide to sell.’ She paused. ‘So, how much do I owe you for the valuation? And where and how do I pay?’ She wasn’t sure if you did pay for valuations but thought she’d better make sure.
‘Nothing. I did it as a favour.’
‘You can’t! You don’t even know me – I mean – before. I insist on paying.’ Gilly hated getting things for nothing.
‘I can, because I have a favour to ask you in return.’
‘Oh, well, that is a bit different. What can I do for you?’
He didn’t speak immediately. ‘It’s a bit awkward and you might think it terribly forward besides being very short notice …’
‘What is it?’ Gilly was on tenterhooks.
‘I was forced to buy two tickets for Music at Gainsborough tomorrow night. Do you have a clue what I’m talking about?’
Gilly laughed, feeling relaxed and very happy. ‘Of course! I’ve been a couple of times. It’s our local Glyndebourne, only they have it in a barn. It’s a shame it’s so early in the year but apparently they have it then because the singers are cheaper to hire or something. The gardens at Gainsborough House would be such a perfect setting for opera. Then it really would be like Glyndebourne.’
‘But it’s only extracts, isn’t it? Being new to the area I don’t know what to expect. Will you come with me? You’re probably going already – it’s such short notice,’ he repeated.
‘I’d be delighted to come with you, but as a pleasure, not a favour.’
‘Tell you what, you bring the picnic and we’ll call it quits. But let me do the wine. It’s a hobby of mine.’
‘Then I’ll do the food. It’s a hobby of mine.’
A second later she wished she hadn’t said that. Food definitely was a hobby of hers and ideas for a sumptuous picnic were already going round in her head but she didn’t want him to expect too much.
