A Springtime Affair

by Katie Fforde

  ‘Who? Amy? That would look very normal, I must say! I go out with him once and then five minutes later make him come to Sunday lunch with two giggling schoolgirls.’

  ‘We don’t giggle any more, Mum! At least, not all that often. And besides, I don’t mean Amy. I mean a man.’ Jago would do well out of the invite. Her mother’s Sunday lunches were famous locally.

  ‘A man? You? Good Lord!’

  ‘Just a friend, Mum, just like your friend!’ Helena was sowing the seeds carefully, not letting it look as if she and Jago were anything more than friends just yet.

  ‘OK,’ said Gilly. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  Gilly continued to sit at her desk, playing Spider, when an email appeared at the top right-hand corner of her computer and drifted into her in-box. Maybe inviting Leo to Sunday lunch would be easier than she’d thought.

  She clicked on his email, unable to stop smiling with delight.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘It’s kind of you to come with me,’ said Helena to Jago as she drove them to Fairacres the following Sunday. ‘It’ll stop my mum thinking I’m checking out her boyfriend, which I totally am.’

  ‘We all need to take time off to have lunch,’ said Jago easily. ‘Although neither of us are very good at that.’

  ‘We have deadlines,’ said Helena. ‘And I promise the food will be good. If you can put up with a certain amount of probing and we stick to our “just good friends, trying it out”, things like that, it should be fine.’

  Jago shrugged. ‘Some people would think I was mad not to claim you as my girlfriend properly.’

  ‘Sweet of you to say so,’ said Helena, convinced he was just being gallant. ‘But those who know me would think it was crazy if I was treating us seriously as a couple so soon.’ She paused. ‘It’s a slight shame that my brother and his wife are going to be there. Although my niece is good fun, in a strange way. We had lunch with them only last week and, frankly, I prefer the gaps between family meals with them to be bigger.’

  ‘What’s wrong with your brother and his wife, then?’

  ‘My sister-in-law, Cressida, doesn’t really approve of food. She’d rather have a smoothie full of supplements than a proper meal. She disapproves of my mother’s old-fashioned methods that mean her roast potatoes are the best.’

  ‘What about your mum’s Yorkshire puddings?’

  Helena took a breath. ‘I feel so disloyal saying this but, just sometimes, they aren’t so good. Everything else will be stunning. Two puddings afterwards at least. And lots of fabulous gravy. Sometimes I make the Yorkies for her.’

  Jago didn’t speak for a few moments. ‘OK, I’m still on board for this. I can cope with a little bun instead of a Yorkshire pudding.’

  Helena laughed. ‘It sounds as if you’ve experienced those.’

  ‘Many times.’

  Gilly wished Leo hadn’t been so keen to come to her early and help. She found it slightly difficult to talk to people and cook – unless it was breakfast when she was so practised. But his enthusiasm for her company was flattering. He obviously wanted the lunch to go well as much as she did. Now, she was whisking her gravy, wondering if there was enough and, as always, deciding there wasn’t.

  ‘There’s always a point with gravy,’ she said to Leo, who was pulling corks out of the bottles of wine that he’d brought, ‘when it tastes perfect, but wouldn’t give people more than a teaspoon each. You have to steel yourself to possibly ruin it when you add things to make it enough.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be better to have a teaspoon of perfect gravy than a lot of substandard stuff?’

  Gilly was horrified. ‘My gravy is never substandard and not enough gravy is the most depressing thing. I’m going to get out my “Mother’s little helpers”.’

  ‘Which are?’

  ‘Soy sauce, Madeira, Bisto, they all have their place.’ She really wanted him out of her kitchen. ‘Leo, I know I don’t know you very well, but do I know you well enough to ask you to set the table? Everything you need should be in the sideboard in the dining room?’

  ‘Of course, anything I can do to help.’

  Gilly turned on her fan oven. Most of the meal was being cooked by her large range but she wanted control for her Yorkshire puddings. She was always a bit nervous about them but with Cressida coming, she really wanted them to be right. Although it should have been Leo she was keen to impress she trusted him not to be critical about them. The beef was superb, resting under layers of tea towels. The potatoes were perfect, the roasted carrots buttery and sweet. The broccoli and were all ready to steam. All she needed now was a couple of trays of nicely risen Yorkshire puddings. Ismene, her only grandchild, loved Yorkshire puddings. She wanted them right for her especially.

  While she sorted through the cutlery fresh from the dishwasher – Leo would find a lot of things missing in the sideboard drawers – she thought about the enormous bundle of narcissi Leo had brought. They were so perfect. Much nicer than lilies or something more exotic and there were so many of them! She never liked flowers out of season and he obviously felt the same. It was all going so well. They’d been out for dinner the previous evening and it had made her so fluttery and excited.

  ‘Shall we introduce ourselves?’ suggested Leo as everyone arrived at once.

  ‘Good idea,’ said the tall man who’d arrived with Helena.

  At first sight, Gilly liked him. He was relaxed and easy, not particularly smartly dressed – unlike Leo who was wearing an immaculate suit and silk tie – but he was friendly and managed to make conversation with Martin, which could be difficult.

  ‘I can’t believe you drink sherry,’ said Cressida, who was nursing fizzy water with a sprig of thyme in it. ‘It’s an older person’s drink.’

  ‘I like sherry,’ said Helena, sounding defiant. ‘And I think it’s coming back into fashion.’

  ‘Who cares about fashion?’ said Jago. ‘You either like something or you don’t.’

  ‘So that’s why you’re wearing clothes out of the eighties?’ Cressida asked, but in a way that didn’t quite qualify as being rude.

  Jago gave her a very charming smile. ‘That’s it exactly.’

  ‘Oh, look! Here’s Uly!’ said Ismene, leaving her mother’s side and going towards the cat.

  ‘Don’t touch him!’ said her mother sharply. ‘You’ll get covered with hairs.’

  Gilly noticed that Leo had stepped away from the cat as well but cat hairs would be hard to get off those elegant trousers. She clapped her hands and Ulysses, taking offence, stalked out of the room.

  ‘Maybe you could top up everyone’s glasses for me, Leo?’ said Gilly into the silence. ‘I’ve just got to put the green veg on.’

  As she hurried back to the kitchen, wishing she could stay there, Gilly hoped that the cat would stay out of the way and that Jago and Cressida wouldn’t get touchy with each other. Helena was being a bit odd although she was saying all the right things. Probably hungry, she thought. She’d have gone without breakfast to save herself for a big lunch. As a child she was always grumpy if her blood sugar level dipped.

  Gilly came back into the drawing room and sensed that two glasses of sherry hadn’t been enough to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Let’s go and eat,’ she said. The veg should be cooked by the time everyone had sat down. Overcooked, possibly.

  ‘Would you like me to carve?’ suggested Leo instantly.

  ‘Thank you!’ said Gilly. She really preferred to carve herself but with everything else that needed to be organised, letting him do it freed her up for other things.

  Helena followed her mother into the kitchen. ‘Terrific Yorkshires,’ she said admiringly, taking the dish from Gilly so she could take them through. ‘Well done, Mum!’

  ‘I did them in the fan oven,’ said Gilly. ‘But I’m relieved they turned out so well.’

  ‘Wanting to impress the new boyfriend, then?’ Helena said this in a joking way but something about her worried her mother. She was being perfectly po
lite but she didn’t have her usual sparkle.

  ‘Well, you know me. I like things to be perfect.’ Gilly paused, shifting her grasp on the potatoes. ‘Everything OK with you?’

  ‘Yes!’ said Helena vehemently. ‘I’ve practically got a boyfriend, too!’

  ‘Lovely!’ said Gilly, trying to match her daughter’s enthusiasm.

  ‘So, how did you two meet?’ asked Helena when all the initial passing things round the table and Gilly getting up to fetch the horseradish had been got over. She was looking at her mother.

  ‘Didn’t Leo value the house for you?’ asked Cressida, her fork loaded with broccoli.

  Gilly felt herself blush and hoped Helena would think it was a hot flush. ‘Er … yes.’

  ‘And I was able to give it a very good value,’ said Leo, sounding satisfied with a job well done.

  ‘I didn’t know you were going to have the house valued,’ said Helena bleakly.

  ‘Well, of course she would, if she’s thinking of selling it,’ said Cressida, looking at Helena as if she were two sandwiches short of a picnic.

  ‘I hope you’re not selling,’ said Jago. ‘This is such a beautiful family house.’

  ‘You can’t expect Gilly never to downsize because you like her house!’ said Cressida.

  Jago looked quizzically at Cressida. ‘I was just saying …’

  ‘Mummy, can I have a roast potato?’ asked Ismene.

  ‘Just one,’ said Cressida. ‘All those bad fats and carbs. Not healthy.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Cress!’ said Helena. ‘It’s Sunday lunch. Let Issi have a roast potato and a Yorkshire pudding!’

  ‘I have!’ said Cressida, glaring at Helena.

  Gilly’s heart sank. Just when she needed her family to behave, when they had strangers among them, Helena got irritable with Cressida. She found herself sending Leo a desperate look.

  ‘So, what do you do, Jago?’ asked Leo, responding to Gilly’s silent appeal.

  ‘I’m a builder,’ said Jago cheerfully.

  ‘He’s my landlord,’ said Helena. ‘Only not for much longer. I have to move out very soon.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound very friendly,’ said Leo.

  ‘Darling,’ said Gilly, putting her hand across so she could touch Helena’s. ‘You could always have the ground-floor bedroom if you need it. In spite of what my accountant said,’ she added, not meaning to say it out loud.

  Leo looked at her. ‘Oh, accountants. They’re always stuffy and boring,’ he said. ‘Take no notice of him.’

  ‘I always take notice of mine,’ said Jago. ‘He keeps me out of trouble.’

  ‘So, Jago,’ said Gilly, keen to take control of the conversation. ‘Tell us about your building work?’ Only after the words were out of her mouth did she realise it might be hard for someone to talk about being a bricklayer, or whatever. Sometimes she wished she wasn’t so middle-class.

  ‘I mostly do conversions,’ said Jago. ‘I buy big old dilapidated houses and turn them into flats.’

  ‘Creating second homes for Londoners, no doubt,’ said Cressida.

  ‘Actually,’ said Helena, ‘Jago creates homes for first-time buyers who can’t afford much.’

  ‘Can you afford to be so philanthropic?’ said Leo.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jago, smiling calmly.

  Gilly felt a bit put off by that remark from Leo. But when she looked at him he caught her gaze and smiled in a way that made her melt inside. ‘Who’s for seconds?’

  ‘Oh, yes please,’ said Jago. ‘This is the best Sunday lunch I think I’ve ever had.’

  Gilly’s heart swelled a little. She loved feeding people and she loved Jago for being so enthusiastic. Although she knew she mustn’t become too fond of him. He and Helena may well not get together properly. It was far too early for her to look on him as a second son.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Martin, ‘your gravy is great and for once your Yorkshires have risen properly.’

  ‘Thank you for your kind words, both of you,’ said Gilly. ‘Although Jago’s words are quite a lot kinder than yours, Martin dear.’

  ‘Mum! I am your son! You shouldn’t expect compliments!’

  ‘I think she should,’ said Jago, ‘when her cooking is as good as this.’

  ‘Shall I help clear away?’ asked Cressida, just as Gilly was about to see if she could persuade anyone to have another potato or another sliver of meat.

  Helena leaped to her feet. ‘Don’t bother, Cressida, I know where everything goes.’

  ‘So do I!’ said Cressida, sounding a bit surprised.

  ‘I’ll help too,’ said Leo.

  Gilly got to the kitchen first, hoping to field the huge number of dishes that were about to fill it. It was a magnificent kitchen and she loved it but it was slightly short of work surface. ‘Why don’t you go back into the dining room and see if everyone’s got wine?’ Gilly said to Leo. ‘Cressida, will Ismene have pudding? Or would you rather she had cheese? Or some grapes?’

  ‘Grapes are full of sugar. I can’t believe you still think they’re suitable food for a child,’ said Cressida.

  ‘Well, go away anyway,’ said Gilly, feeling fairly calm about this admonishment. ‘I’m assuming you won’t want chocolate, then? I have some of the ninety per cent cocoa solids you’re so fond of.’

  Cressida managed a smile. ‘Then I do want it! Unlike ordinary chocolate I count it as a health food.’

  Gilly took a bar from the cupboard and handed it to her daughter-in-law with a smile that even Cressida would realise meant ‘please leave my kitchen’. Now Gilly could find out what was up with Helena.

  ‘Everything OK, love?’ asked Gilly as Helena rinsed the plates and loaded the dishwasher while she retrieved one pudding from the range and another from the fridge.

  ‘Oh yes, fine!’ said Helena. ‘Actually Jago has found me somewhere for my loom so that’s one less thing to worry about.’

  ‘He’s such a nice man!’ said Gilly, which was code for ‘tell me all the details of your relationship’.

  ‘He is! Although of course we’re only really friends at the moment.’ Helena found a tablet for the dishwasher and switched it on.

  ‘Although it might lead to something else?’

  ‘You never know!’ said Helena with a teasing smile.

  ‘Starting off as friends is always a good thing – even if it doesn’t develop into something more,’ she added quickly, seeing that Helena was going to protest about it being ‘early days’ and ‘too soon to tell’. But as she said it, Gilly wondered if she and Leo were just friends? She thought not – not from her point of view anyway.

  ‘What else have you got to worry about?’ said Gilly, wishing Helena would just tell her why she was being twitchy.

  ‘Oh, you know! All the work I need to do before World of Wool. Nothing you can help with, Mum.’ She looked around the kitchen. ‘Are we having cheese first and then pudding? Or what?’

  ‘Both at the same time,’ said Gilly. ‘I can never decide which is better so it’s easier to let people decide for themselves.’ She smiled at her daughter. ‘I like your Jago’s appetite!’

  Helena laughed. ‘I knew you would! I didn’t say anything to him but if I had wanted him to make an extra good impression I’d have told him to accept second helpings of everything.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell him?’

  Helena shrugged. ‘Didn’t think I’d need to!’ She paused, possibly searching for the right thing to say. ‘Mum, you know I like to clear up a bit before I go? But today I need to get off fairly speedily. Will you be OK? Will Leo help?’

  ‘I’m glad you like him,’ said Gilly, although she knew that Helena hadn’t said that.

  She wasn’t entirely surprised that Helena was ambivalent about Leo, which was why she hadn’t really wanted to introduce him so soon. Leo was the first man she’d gone out with since her divorce. It was bound to be a shock for Helena. Cressida and Martin seemed quite relaxed about it, but it was different for them, she suppose
d. Martin had left home, more or less, before the divorce. He’d had a couple of years working abroad before he came home and went to university. He hadn’t seen her pain in quite the same way that Helena had. She sighed. Maybe it was asking too much for Helena to like any new man she might meet as much as she did. But perhaps Leo would grow on her.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘So, if you don’t mind my asking,’ said Jago, ‘what’s the matter?’ He had a collection of foil-wrapped parcels on his lap, given to him by Gilly as he got into the car.

  Helena slowed down a little. ‘Sorry. I’m just a bit upset.’

  ‘I can see that, but why? Leo was OK, wasn’t he? Not my type, obviously but—’

  Helena had been fighting with herself from almost the first moment they had arrived at her mother’s house. ‘Do you mind if I tell you why I don’t like him?’ Jago’s quickness to pick up on her feelings encouraged her to confide in him.

  ‘Of course not. I don’t think he’s ever going to be my best friend.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ asked Helena sharply.

  Jago shrugged. ‘As I said, not my type. So why don’t you like him? He seemed to be pretty much a ladies’ man.’

  ‘Maybe I should wait until we get home. It’s a bit weird.’

  ‘So? Your place or mine? I quite fancy having the third portion of pudding your mother gave me. Her pastry is amazing.’

  ‘Yours – mine – I don’t care really.’

  ‘Let’s go to mine,’ said Jago.

  Ten minutes later, Jago had settled Helena down with a mug of tea – having offered her wine and been refused – and pulled the sofa round so it caught the sunshine. Then, having put both portions of different sorts of pudding on to the same plate, he said, ‘Spill.’

  Helena sipped her tea, wondering where to start. ‘It does mean telling you something rather weird about me.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Do you know what a super-recogniser is?’ she asked, desperately hoping for an affirmative.