A Springtime Affair

by Katie Fforde

  ‘Nope, never heard of it.’

  Helena exhaled. She hated having to explain this unusual ability: she felt it made her sound a bit strange. ‘You obviously don’t read enough crime fiction. It means I can recognise faces, even if I’ve only glanced at them, and remember them, even years afterwards. Or even if I see them at a funny angle.’

  ‘Oh. That is a bit weird. But useful at parties,’ he added solemnly.

  She laughed. ‘Very useful at parties but it has its downsides and this is one of them.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Recognising that the man my mum has started to go out with, and obviously is already quite into, is the man who nearly got her and me killed years ago.’

  Jago sighed now. ‘That is awkward. What were the circumstances?’

  ‘He was driving a car towards us on the wrong side of the road, far too fast. If Mum hadn’t reacted so quickly he’d have crashed into us and we’d both have been killed.’

  Jago didn’t speak for quite some time. ‘Are you sure?’

  Helena bit her lip. ‘I’ve had the whole of lunch to think and rethink and I can’t make the answer different. If I could I would. Yes, I am sure.’

  ‘And he was driving too fast?’

  ‘For a motorway, no, but for the country lane we were on, definitely. If Mum hadn’t pulled out of his way into the ditch, really quickly, we’d have met head on. He didn’t stop although he’d obviously seen us. He just drove on.’

  ‘That’s outrageous.’

  Helena drank some more tea. ‘We don’t know why he was driving so fast. He may have had a sick child on the back seat, or a dying dog.’

  ‘It’s possible, I suppose. A bit unlikely.’

  ‘I agree, it’s not really likely. I’m just trying to find excuses for him.’

  ‘Oh God, Helena! I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘And nor do I! Not to my mum, anyway. If I say anything it’s going to look as if I don’t want Mum to have a boyfriend, or any fun or anything nice like that.’

  ‘But she knows about your – superpower?’

  ‘Of course, but I still can’t call her or turn up and tell her Leo was the man driving the car that time. Or maybe I should?’ She paused. ‘Tell me honestly, how did you feel about Leo before I told you all this?’

  Jago didn’t rush to answer. ‘Like I said, I don’t think we’d ever be soulmates.’ He paused again, for an agonisingly long time. ‘I’m not sure I entirely trust him.’

  ‘Weirdly that makes me feel a bit better,’ said Helena. ‘I couldn’t trust him the moment I saw him but I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. Just in case. I mean – Mum’s not likely to find many men she likes at this time in her life, is she? I know she’s not old or anything, but the chances of me finding someone are slim, and not all the men I meet are married. It must be much harder at her age.’

  ‘Could you talk to your brother about this?’

  Helena shook her head. ‘I wish I could. But Martin’s never really approved of my superpower, as you called it. He can’t deny I have it, but I think he’s a bit jealous. Besides, he has an agenda.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘He and Cressida want Mum to sell her house and share out the money so they can buy a fancy-pants house with a granny annexe that Mum could live in and so look after Issi, and the massive garden, for nothing.’ It all came out in one anxious breath.

  Jago frowned. ‘Oh. I don’t think your mother would like that, would she? Unless she absolutely loves gardening.’

  ‘She quite likes it but wouldn’t want to do it day in, day out.’

  ‘So what has this to do with Leo?’

  It was a reasonable question. ‘He’s something to do with property and, as you heard, he valued Mum’s house. She must have asked him to. She will have got him round because Martin and Cress guilt-tripped her into it.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe I’m paranoid, but I got the impression they knew him already.’

  Jago considered this. ‘Are you sure you won’t have a glass of wine? I definitely want one and I don’t want to drink on my own.’

  ‘In which case I will.’ She smiled. ‘I really appreciate having you to talk to about all this. I’d have talked to Amy but she hasn’t met Leo and she would probably just see him as a good-looking older man, perfect for my mum. And if I said anything against him she’d just think I was jealous, or that I wanted to be the only one with a presentable boyfriend.’

  He grinned. ‘Glad to know you think I’m presentable.’

  ‘Obviously I’m bigging you up a bit for friendship’s sake,’ said Helena, smiling back at him. ‘Were you going to get wine?’

  ‘I was and I am.’ A few minutes later he handed her a large glass of red. ‘I hope you like it.’

  ‘What we have to wonder is would Leo like this wine? He’s obviously a bit of an expert,’ said Helena.

  ‘I don’t actually care if he likes it or not. But I want you to have something you like. Then we have to find a solution to your problem.’

  ‘Oh, that’s delicious!’ said Helena, having taken a sip. She was finding Jago very easy to talk to and the wine would make him even more so. ‘I’m not sure we can find a solution. It happened such a long time ago.’

  ‘I have some contacts that might make it possible. Can you give me the details of the road, the day, and the time of your near miss?’

  ‘Yes I can.’

  ‘Well, that is amazing! Do your superpowers mean you remember dates as well?’

  ‘Not the super-recogniser one, no, but the other one.’ She paused for effect, enjoying the fascination in his expression.

  ‘You have two?’

  ‘I kept a diary so we know the date and we can work out the road because of where we going.’ She felt very smug. Being a super-recogniser was interesting and rare but it was a God-given talent. Keeping a diary meant effort.

  ‘So why did you keep a diary? Or is it something all girls do?’

  ‘I did it because the recognising thing made me different at school and I was bullied a bit. It’s why I don’t tell everyone – anyone really – unless I have to. The diary was my friend. I had Amy, of course, but I put more in my diary than I told her.’

  He nodded. ‘After all, you couldn’t expect Amy to care what the date was when you went—’

  ‘—to visit my bro at university,’ she finished.

  He got up and fetched the bottle of wine. When he had topped up their glasses he said, ‘Why don’t you give me all the info and let me see what I can find out?’

  It took Helena a few moments to grasp what he was offering but much longer to think what to reply. ‘The thing is, Jago, I’m not used to other people dealing with my problems.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be dealing with it, I’d just be getting information for you.’

  ‘But you’re so busy—’

  ‘And so are you. As I said, I have contacts – people I met under rather strange circumstances – that could make things quicker for me.’

  ‘That sounds incredibly shady!’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit shady but not incredibly. And not morally wrong, I promise.’

  Although she was tempted, Helena still wasn’t sure. ‘The thing is, I’ve told you more than I’ve told anyone else—’

  ‘Because I was the first friend on hand. I know you don’t know me that well but I promise you can trust me. And I’d like to get this sorted out. I think your mum is wonderful and I’d love to help her. Wouldn’t it be great if Leo was carrying a heart to a transplant patient which was why he had to drive so fast?’

  She couldn’t help smiling. ‘I don’t think they send vital body parts across the country in Beemers.’

  He returned her smile. ‘OK, that’s a long shot but there could be a good reason – a benign reason – for his speeding and I’d really like to find it out for you.’

  Helena rubbed her eyes to help her think and then remembered she’d put make-up on. ‘Damn,’ she muttered. ‘Now I look like a clo
wn.’

  ‘The joy of being with a friend is that you don’t have to care what you look like,’ said Jago.

  Helena wasn’t sure how to take this. He was right, of course, but somehow it did matter what she looked like. But it was too late now. ‘OK, Jago,’ she said, ‘I’ll take you up on your kind offer. And I’m really, really grateful.’

  She liked Jago a lot and couldn’t help feeling it was almost a shame he was just a friend.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gilly was having trouble sleeping. She would fall asleep but then, about half an hour later, wake up and, having lost all her sleepiness, lie there for hours. What she was most annoyed about was that she would spend the time thinking about Leo. She told herself she was far too old to lose sleep over a man, particularly one who was very attentive. He emailed or texted almost every day.

  It would have been easier if she could have talked about it to someone, but somehow she couldn’t. Her oldest friend was no longer local and it all felt so silly and girlish she didn’t feel she could talk about it on the phone. She also couldn’t forget that Helena had been a bit funny about him at lunch. She didn’t know why but her daughter wasn’t happy about her mother falling in love. Admittedly it was all quite fast but that was how these things happened! Surely Helena knew that?

  When she could drag her mind away from how wonderful Leo was she forced herself to think about whether she should seriously consider downsizing, giving up her B & B and releasing some capital for her children. Of course it was the sensible thing to do. It was now that Martin and Helena needed money, not in thirty years’ time when she was dead. And if Fairacres was worth what Leo said it was, she could buy a nice little cottage and Helena would have enough to buy a studio, and Martin and Cressida could buy something a bit bigger.

  What she was certain of was that she was too young to live in a granny annexe. She didn’t even like the expression! While she loved being a grandmother and looked forward to being one again (although Martin and Cressida were convinced one child was enough), she hated all the names given by society to grandmothers. She found them patronising.

  And could she give up her B & B just now? It was extremely hard work, especially when you went to the pains she went to, to make everything as perfect as it could be. But give it up? Probably not.

  She sighed and turned her pillow over again and put some more lavender oil on it. Then she turned on the radio and turned it off again. She needed to work out what was happening with her daughter.

  But at least Helena seemed perky in herself, which was lovely. Although when Helena had rung to say thank you for lunch and Gilly had asked about Jago, Helena hadn’t given anything away. She’d just said, ‘Oh he’s fine! Still going on about your cooking!’

  The answer Gilly had been looking for was ‘I think I’m in love!’ and then maybe she could have admitted that perhaps she was too.

  She finally drifted off trying to work out if Jago was the one for Helena. The fact that her ‘I’m staying single’ daughter was even going out with someone was surely a bonus. She was still arguing with herself about why she felt Helena needed a man when sleep claimed her.

  A few mornings later she was waiting for William, her accountant, to collect his old ladies. They’d been to their party and come back, later than planned, the previous evening, and, Gilly hoped, had a good night’s sleep. Gilly picked up the tray of tea and coffee she was serving them while they waited and took it through to the conservatory. William’s aunts had been hugely appreciative guests and she had loved having them.

  ‘Darling!’ said the lead aunt, whose name was Daphne and who set the tone for the party. ‘You are so kind! We are such demanding old biddies with our various breakfast requirements and yet you never hesitated to cater to our whims, however unreasonable! Even when Doris and the others had to leave so early.’

  It hadn’t seemed that early to Gilly. ‘If only all my guests were like you!’ she said, setting down the tray. ‘Looking after you has been such fun.’

  ‘It’s your attention to detail that makes this place so special,’ Daphne went on. ‘Fresh flowers in the rooms—’

  ‘Only a couple of sprigs from the garden,’ said Gilly, dismissing the praise.

  ‘I really like having fresh milk to put in my tea in the room,’ said Mary, Daphne’s sister. ‘And a good selection of herb teas, and more than just a couple of teabags, too.’

  ‘As for the shortbread,’ said Miriam, who may have been a sister-in-law – Gilly had lost track. ‘Delicious!’

  ‘I loved the lavender oil by the bed,’ said Mary. ‘Not sure if it made any difference to how I slept but it smelt lovely.’

  ‘You were supposed to sprinkle it on your pillow,’ said Miriam. ‘I loved it!’

  ‘And the breakfast,’ said Daphne. ‘I’m very fussy and I had nothing to complain about. Hot plates—’

  ‘So important,’ her sister Mary agreed.

  ‘Proper butter in a dish and not those little packets I find so difficult to open.’ Miriam gestured with her hands. Her fingers sported many rings but Gilly noticed they were showing signs of arthritis.

  ‘And home-made marmalade!’ said Daphne.

  ‘I have to confess I don’t make it myself,’ said Gilly, embarrassed by this fulsome praise. ‘I buy it from the WI market.’

  ‘Well, someone made it at home,’ said Daphne, no less enthusiastic. ‘And again, not in those horrid sachets.’

  ‘Ah! Here’s William,’ said Mary as he came in through the open front door. ‘William? We’ve had such a lovely stay with Gilly. Thank you so much for recommending such a wonderful B & B.’

  ‘She’s looked after us brilliantly!’ said Daphne. ‘We had hot chocolate when we got back after the party—’

  ‘With a little something in it!’ added Mary.

  ‘I’m not sure you should tell me all this,’ said William. ‘I’m Gilly’s accountant, remember. Can these things be cost-effective?’ He gave Gilly a smile that made her wish he smiled more often. He was really quite good-looking, she noticed, now she had a chance to look at him. Thick hair in a man in his fifties was rare.

  ‘It might get me repeat custom,’ she said, glancing round at the group. ‘And then it would be like advertising, which is a legitimate business expense.’

  William laughed. ‘In which case—’

  ‘Don’t you dare cramp her style,’ said Miriam with emphasis. ‘It’s a marvellous place to stay and I think we should all come again. What do you think, girls?’

  ‘Marvellous idea!’ said Daphne. ‘We could go on trips out in the area.’

  Gilly had thought about doing this for a while so she nodded. ‘I could arrange a minibus,’ she said. ‘And send someone with you – or even go myself.’

  ‘Now my client is in the tour business,’ said William, raising his eyebrows in mock horror. ‘I think I’d better relieve you of my female relations before you end up running a home for wayward pensioners. If I can persuade them to leave, that is.’

  There was a lot of laughter, friendly insults and goodwill involved in loading Gilly’s guests into the car while she held sticks and handbags and cheered from the sidelines. But at last they were in, buckled up and away. Gilly waved them off and went back inside.

  ‘Hello, you,’ said Leo, who was waiting in the hall. He had come in the back entrance, avoiding the farewells at the front. He kissed Gilly’s cheek.

  Gilly found herself beaming. She was delighted to see him and for some reason pleased he hadn’t clashed with William’s old ladies. ‘Come and let me make you a cup of coffee. You can drink it while I clear up breakfast.’

  ‘While you’re obviously brilliant with dotty old women, I don’t think you should have to run around after them like you do.’

  Gilly paused. While William’s female relations were eccentric she wouldn’t have described them as dotty. They were very sharp and on the ball and even if they weren’t, she’d have enjoyed caring for them.

  ‘I
like it. I even liked getting up at six so I could send them home with packets of home-made shortbread. There’s some left,’ she added.

  She insisted on getting the dishwasher filled before she’d go with Leo to the conservatory to drink the coffee she had made. She didn’t really want more coffee but she did want to spend time with Leo.

  ‘I think it’s time you retired,’ he said as she handed him coffee and a plate of biscuits.

  ‘Why?’ said Gilly, smiling at his joke. ‘What would I do with myself if I didn’t have my guests? I’d only get up to mischief.’

  ‘You could get up to mischief with me,’ he said. ‘I want to take you to Vienna.’

  ‘Vienna!’ said Gilly.

  ‘I think Paris and Venice are rather overdone, don’t you? I don’t want to take you to a romantic cliché.’

  Gilly was taken aback. The thought of being taken to Bognor Regis by Leo would have seemed romantic. ‘It sounds wonderful.’

  It did. Already she was imagining a gorgeous little boutique hotel, going to amazing world-class restaurants, chauffeured limousines. The number of bedrooms involved was for contemplation in private. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about sleeping with Leo, but her imagination had never got her from being fully clothed to being naked in his arms. She just didn’t see how it could happen, at her age.

  ‘But we can’t go if you’re still running a B & B.’

  ‘I do go on holiday …’ she protested.

  ‘But presumably it takes planning?’

  ‘Of course, but it must be the same for you, surely?’

  Leo nodded. ‘Some, of course, but I can work from anywhere. It’s not the same as being a bed and breakfast landlady.’

  Gilly had a sudden vision of herself standing at the door of a boarding house in some desolate seaside town, her arms folded, her expression grim. Her excitement about his invitation dimmed a little. ‘Well, no.’

  He smiled and put his hand on her knee. She felt it all over her body.

  ‘Did you get Martin’s email?’ he asked.

  ‘What? How did you know he’d sent me an email?’

  ‘He copied me in. He realised you didn’t really like the house they showed you before so he’s found somewhere else. It’s got a proper granny annexe.’