by Katie Fforde
‘So what does Amy want you to do?’
Helena went on to explain about Springtime, how it had been a showcase for great artists and masters of their craft and how utterly impossible it would be for her to get enough work done in time even if woodworm hadn’t got to the loom and moths to the cones of silk thread.
‘I guess Amy could probably find someone else to take the spot, get her bag of sand back,’ said Jago.
‘Her what?’ said Helena, distracted for a moment.
‘Bag o’ sand, grand.’
‘Love it!’
‘But you should go and check out your mum’s attic and see what’s survived.’
Helena sighed, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the whole thing. Amy had such faith in her; her wonderful mentor, Julia Coombs, had had such faith in her; this was her chance to show them she was up to it.
Helena hadn’t thought to ring her mother before she went up to visit the attic and tell her the news about the show, but her car was there so it was slightly surprising to find the back door locked. Helena used her key and let herself into the house.
‘Mum?’ she called but the kitchen had that empty feel that indicated no one was home. Ulysses the cat got up from the chair he was snoozing on and came over to say hello. ‘So where is she, Uly?’ Helena asked. ‘I’d better ring her.’
She dialled. ‘Mum? Where are you? I’m at the house and I want to go into the attic.’
‘Oh, hello, darling!’ said Gilly.
She sounded a bit awkward, Helena thought. ‘Are you OK, Mum?’
‘Of course, I’m perfectly all right. I’m with a friend.’
Helena got the impression she wasn’t with a close friend and wasn’t entirely happy about it either, so although she knew her mother hadn’t been kidnapped she felt obliged to ask: ‘You haven’t been taken anywhere against your will, have you? Say Ulysses if you have.’
Her mother’s laugh was rather brittle. ‘Don’t be silly and be careful going into the attic if you’re on your own. The ladder isn’t very secure. Promise?’
‘Is that you, darling?’ Gilly called.
‘Yup,’ said Jago, appearing in the hall with a large plastic box in his arms.
Gilly laughed. ‘Is my daughter with you? Or are you burgling me?’
Helena appeared with a slightly smaller box in her arms.
‘Is that the family silver in there?’ asked Gilly.
‘No. It’s all that silk yarn you’ve been keeping for me in the attic and that small loom,’ said Helena. ‘Did I tell you? I’m going to start weaving in silk!’
‘But I thought you were working flat out for World of Wool?’
‘I’m doing something quite different now!’ She looked at her watch. ‘We must go – Jago has to be somewhere – but I’ll ring you and tell you all about it. It’s all Amy’s fault!’ She followed Jago out of the back door. ‘And thank you so much for keeping everything in those boxes,’ she added. ‘It’s completely saved me!’
Although Helena was trying to remember the eccentricities of the loom that was travelling in pieces in the back of Jago’s pickup along with the plastic boxes, one part of her mind was on her mother. Did she look guilty? Unsettled? Just a bit odd? ‘I wish I’d remembered to ask my mother where she’d been when I called her.’ She paused. ‘Did she look shifty to you?’
Jago laughed heartily. ‘No! And I think your mum is entitled to a private life, Helly.’
He hadn’t called her that before and Helena took a moment to decide if she liked it or not. She concluded that she did. ‘I know, it’s just I’m in the habit of looking out for her. And she looks out for me.’
‘Is that what they call a “co-dependency”?’ Jago enquired.
Helena thought about this before acknowledging there was possibly some truth in his comment. ‘The trouble is, she was a bit of a wreck after the divorce. She was really strong all the way through it, but afterwards she sort of slumped for a bit.’
‘She’s lucky to have a daughter like you.’
‘And I’m lucky to have a mum like her! Totally keeping the moths away from my silk thread was amazing!’
‘So you’ll stop worrying about Gilly and just focus on your new project?’
‘I will.’
Jago stayed to help her assemble the small loom and then said, ‘I must dash. I’m looking for my next project. Always have to think ahead in this game.’
Helena was aware this gave her a slight feeling of loss. ‘Oh, OK! I’ll see you later. Maybe I’ll cook something?’
‘Or maybe you’ll get so involved in threading your new loom I’ll cook something?’
Helena beamed. ‘An even better idea.’
Threading the smaller loom did take forever, especially as the silk strands were so fine. She needed 125 threads per inch and she wondered if she was mad to start doing this when she had so little time. But the time flew by and when Jago put a monster sandwich by her she had no idea where she was in the day.
‘Is that lunch or breakfast?’ she asked, suddenly starving, her hunger triggered by the sight of food.
‘Early supper. Shouldn’t you stop now? Can you still see?’
Helena blinked. ‘Actually you’re right, I’m not functioning all that well at the moment.’
‘Why don’t you bring the sandwich into the kitchen and have a glass of wine with it while I cook us something else?’
‘That sounds like a very good plan!’ said Helena and picked up her plate.
As she followed him through the house she remembered he’d been on a mission too.
‘Did you get the property you were interested in? Were you buying or just checking out?’
‘Checking out. No point in buying something if it’s never going to get planning permission. So how did setting up a different loom go?’
‘Well! Although it took me a while to find my way around it, and I had forgotten quite how long it takes to thread a loom with thread so fine. I reckon I can get three good scarf lengths out of every time I thread the loom, but I am going to have to charge a lot to make it worth it.’ She took a large bite of her sandwich and sighed happily.
‘But there’s the honour of being in the show?’ He put down a full glass of red wine and she knew it was her favourite.
She took another bite before answering. He did have a way with a sandwich: the right bread, the right condiments, all perfectly balanced. ‘There is, but you can’t pay your bills with honour, can you? You have to have actual money as well. There’s no point in creating beautiful pieces if people won’t pay enough for them.’
‘But didn’t Amy feel fairly sure you’d make back your thousand pounds without difficulty?’
‘Amy is dreadfully optimistic!’
‘When I last looked, being optimistic wasn’t considered a bad thing,’ said Jago.
Helena looked at him, biting her lip to hide her smile. ‘There’s being optimistic and being foolhardy. And that was possibly the most delicious sandwich I’ve ever eaten.’
He nodded gravely. ‘You were hungry. That helps.’
Over the following days, Helena hardly stopped weaving. Jago brought her food during the day and dragged her to the table for the evening meal. She sent her mother a text to say she was fine but working very hard. She didn’t tell her how late and long her hours were. Mothers didn’t need to know everything.
Chapter Eighteen
Helena having to weave day and night was a relief to Gilly. It meant she wouldn’t have time to wonder about what her mother was up to. Gilly did her bit to support her daughter, sending over casseroles which, she realised, mostly helped Jago, who seemed to have taken on the feeding role. But she was glad not to have her daughter’s beady eye upon her. While she was very nearly 100 per cent sure she didn’t want to go out with Leo any more, she was curious. He had more or less asked her to live with him and yet he hadn’t tried to seduce her. So what was going on?
She took advantage of Helena being so occupied to invite Ma
rtin and his family for Sunday lunch. She had asked Helena via text but said, Completely understand if you’re too busy. I know how under the cosh you are at the moment. While she would have been fine if Helena and Jago had accepted she was glad to be able to have lunch with her son without any twitches between him and his sister to deal with.
She had just settled them in the sitting room with a glass of wine and elderflower and something suitable for Ismene when her phone rang. She saw it was William.
‘Do you mind if I answer this?’ she asked, getting up so she could take the call in privacy. She knew that both Cressida and Martin would be looking at their own phones the moment she was out of the way so didn’t feel too bad.
‘William? How are you?’
‘I’m well and I hope you are too? I was just calling to fix up a time to take you gliding. We’ve got a nice high coming up tomorrow I’d like to take advantage of. It will be perfect for a first flight.’
Gilly sighed. ‘Oh, William! I’m so sorry! I do hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression, but really, I don’t think gliding is for me. I am an awful coward and I don’t much like flying in small planes. I’m sure to be absolutely terrified.’
There was a long silence and Gilly was aware of having disappointed William. She didn’t feel happy about it.
‘I really do believe you might love it if you just let yourself give it a shot.’
‘It’s a terribly long shot, William.’ She heard him sigh and felt desperate to offer him something. He’d been kind enough to want to share his hobby with her and she’d turned him down because she was a coward. He deserved better. ‘I’d love to do something else – birdwatching, angling – something where you don’t have to defy gravity.’
He laughed gently. ‘OK, I’ll let you off gliding, for now. I’ll find somewhere good for birdwatching. Flicking metal hooks around at the end of a line might be a bit nerve-racking for me.’
She realised she was smiling. ‘Thank you! Let me know.’
She walked back to Cressida and Martin; Ismene had found the magnetic atlas jigsaw that Gilly had bought for her. ‘Right, can I get anyone something to nibble? Lunch won’t be long.’
‘Who was that, Mum?’ asked Martin. ‘Not Leo?’
Gilly winced internally. Was she obliged to tell them about her relationship with Leo? She thought not. ‘I was just talking to a friend about going gliding.’
‘Gliding!’ Cressida could not have been more horrified if Gilly had said she was going pole dancing. ‘Gilly! You would never go gliding! It would be absolutely terrifying for you.’
‘Yes, Mum, I hope you said no. It would be really unsuitable for someone of your age and state of health.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my health!’ said Gilly indignantly.
‘Physically, you’re fine, but you are nervy. Always have been,’ said Martin. ‘Gliding would be the death of you.’
Gilly took a couple of slow inward breaths. ‘Excuse me. I must just check something in the oven.’
She walked quickly out of the room, her phone in her hand. When she was well out of earshot she got her phone and found ‘Recents’. ‘William? I’ve changed my mind. I do want to go gliding after all.’
‘Gilly?’ said William. ‘Are you all right? You sound a bit as if someone has forced you into saying that.’
She couldn’t help laughing. ‘Really? No, don’t worry, I just decided not to be such a wimp. It’s turning me into an old lady before my time.’
‘Never! I’ll pick you up tomorrow just after eight. I am so pleased about this!’
Just as well she was an early riser, thought Gilly the following morning as she sat next to William in the car, trying to focus on the burgeoning hedgerows and the beauty of the emerging spring. She was breathing deeply, concentrating very hard on not thinking about taking to the air in an unpowered vehicle. Although to be fair, it wasn’t the unpowered bit that terrified her, it was the tiny insubstantial scrap of metal she was going to be in at the time.
‘We have the perfect day for it,’ said William. ‘I’m confident you’re going to love it.’
Gilly’s answering smile was rather strained. ‘It’s certainly a lovely day. How long are we likely to be in the air?’
‘On a day like today, with a bit of luck and some good thermals we could go for miles but as it’s your first time I think twenty minutes will be about right.’
Twenty minutes of her life. That wasn’t a big sacrifice and when she came down she could say that she’d done it, she wasn’t a coward and could carry on with her feet on the ground.
‘I’m not likely to be sick, am I?’
William shook his head. ‘Not on a day like today.’
‘Am I wearing the right clothes?’
He glanced across at her. She was wearing a smartened-up version of what she’d garden in: flexible (so she could clamber in and out of the glider) and warm. Gilly was aware her fear of being cold identified her as being an older person but it was too bad. She would never sacrifice comfort for fashion. A silk scarf added a certain aviator touch, she felt.
‘They seem perfect to me. You can move about freely?’
‘Yes. I did a bit of YouTubing to look at gliders and they seem … small? And will take a bit of getting into,’ she said, pleased with herself for avoiding the words ‘cramped’ and ‘claustrophobic’. ‘I hope I’m athletic enough.’
‘I’m sure you are.’
‘And we wear parachutes?’
‘Yup. Partly for safety and partly because if you didn’t the seats would be really uncomfortable.’
‘Oh, like when you lose the lining of your shoe and it’s too big and unpleasant against your foot?’
He nodded. ‘I expect so.’
She didn’t speak for a while, aware they were getting nearer and nearer the airfield.
‘Don’t overthink it, Gilly,’ said William eventually. ‘If you really don’t want to go, we won’t go. It’s not a big deal.’
Yet having been offered a way out Gilly realised she’d feel disappointed if she didn’t give gliding a try. And Martin and Cressida would be so furious when she told them she’d been – any amount of fear would be worth that.
In spite of her bracing inner thoughts, Gilly found the age it took to drive the perimeter of the airfield agonizing. She was here, she wanted to do it and she didn’t want it spun out with scenic drives around large open spaces.
After seemingly hours, but in reality only a few minutes, William parked the car near the clubhouse. He held her arm encouragingly as they walked past where a number of gliders were kept under cover towards the building where, according to the jaunty sign on the outside, the fun began.
William was obviously a popular member of the club; everyone greeted him with warm smiles, and there was the odd joke that indicated they appreciated his gentle charm. She received a fair amount of curious looks and shy nods herself and she couldn’t help asking herself how many other women he’d taken gliding. She was surprised to feel a bit jealous; she wanted it to be only her. And then she wondered why.
‘Come on,’ said William. ‘Let’s get it over with!’
Gilly laughed. ‘Do I look that terrified?’
‘Yes,’ said a couple of the other people.
‘But no need,’ one went on. ‘You’re going to love it.’
‘It’s traditional to have a big cooked breakfast after your first flight,’ said another, ‘no matter what time you go up.’
Gilly managed some sort of smile; now her ordeal was nearly on her, she was getting more and more frightened. She started breathing deeply. That was always a good idea.
‘Is this your glider?’ she said as they approached the machine, which seemed hardly bigger than a dragonfly.
‘No, this belongs to the club. Mine is a single-seater. I thought it was a bit early to put you up in that.’
It took Gilly a couple of seconds to realise he’d made a joke. She whimpered in response.
‘It’s tiny!’ she said, looking at the space she was expected to climb into. ‘I swear this must be one of the few activities where you can be claustrophobic and agoraphobic at the same time!’
‘Here, let me help you. You get in the front, but don’t worry, you don’t have to drive.
Gilly cast him a terrified glance before getting herself up and into the tiny seat. Then the Perspex top came down and clicked into place.’
He handed her a headset. ‘Here, put this on. It means we can talk to each other.’
There were a few minutes of bumping along the grass, the wings of the glider being supported by cheerful men, and then suddenly the glider took flight. Gilly gasped, breathed deeply and gradually felt her fear being replaced by amazement. She forgot about the flimsy machine and just felt joy at being in the air in almost complete silence. Only the sound of the wind rushing past disturbed it and Gilly found she tuned it out quickly.
‘All right?’ came William’s steady voice from behind her.
‘It’s wonderful!’ she said. ‘It’s like being a bird! Look! I can see the Severn! My goodness, this is amazing!’
‘Can you see the mountains beyond the river?’
‘Are they the Brecon Beacons or the Black Mountains? Oh, there’s the Sugar Loaf, that’s the Brecon Beacons, isn’t it?’
‘Do you want to have a little go on the controls yourself?’
‘No thank you. I just want to swoop about, pretending to be an albatross, though I think they mostly fly over the sea, don’t they? Oh, look! There’s Dead Man’s Acre.’
