Gilly had been making beds, baking shortbread, picking posies and organising laundry for what seemed like every hour of every day since Helena’s show. And while she liked to be busy she was tired. Also, although she was physically occupied from dawn to well past dusk her brain was free to worry about William.
When she’d first met Leo she’d been a bit swept off her feet. He was so stylish and charming, had treated her like a queen, and taken her to lovely places. But when she started to get to know William better she’d realised how much nicer, kinder and, now she came to think about it, more attractive than Leo he was. William was the quiet horse that came up on the outside without being noticed until he was at the finish line. But was he still interested in winning this particular race? How would she ever find out?
If only he hadn’t seen her with Leo she could just invite him round for a meal or something. In fact, she was fairly sure, if he hadn’t seen her with Leo he would have been in touch himself. But she didn’t have the courage to email him and tell him she and Leo were not together when he may not have actually been looking at them at the show; he could have been looking at something quite different.
She wished she was braver. Gilly was sure Helena wouldn’t worry about things like that; she’d just email William and explain.
Thinking about Helena didn’t help her either. What was going on between her and Jago? He was such a lovely man, she would be so sad if there was something dreadfully wrong with him that made him ineligible in some way.
A thought occurred to her. Could he be gay? It wouldn’t be a thing that was wrong with him of course but it did make him unsuitable for Helena! It didn’t seem terribly likely, but Gilly didn’t trust her gaydar; was his sensitive caring of Helena something you could expect from a man who was heterosexual? Possibly not! Hot-water bottles were just a little bit camp, after all, however much everyone loved them.
But even if he wasn’t going to be the father of her grandchildren, Jago was still a lovely man and a very good friend to Helena. She found the thought of Helena having a gay best friend comforting.
She was still musing about Jago’s sexuality while she made yet another batch of shortbread, wondering at the same time if she had in fact got bored with making the same biscuit time after time, when the phone rang. Slightly hoping it wasn’t another booking – she could do with a few days off – she went to answer it.
‘Darling? Daphne here! How are you?’
‘I’m fine, Daphne. How lovely to hear from you, and how are you?’ Gilly wiped her hands on her apron.
‘In the pink, sweetie, absolutely in the pink. Now, I’ve got a plan.’
‘Sounds a bit worrying.’ Gilly really hoped that if the plan meant her B & B being taken over by a lot of unruly women, she would have time to prepare properly.
Daphne ignored Gilly’s wary response. ‘It’s William’s birthday soon.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, and you know something? He’s never had a party! Not ever, in all his life. So I thought I’d organise one.’
‘What took you so long? He must be in his fifties,’ said Gilly.
‘I just assumed his parents were in charge of that sort of thing but no. I have to do it now!’
‘OK, well, anything I can do to help…?’ She briefly wondered if she should offer to have the party in her house but then decided it would look pushy. If William didn’t fancy her it would be awful – for him and for her.
‘Well, you can come, and – if it wouldn’t be too much trouble – make a cake? I’m sure I could get someone else to make one but I thought you’d make a much nicer one.’
‘Of course! I’d be happy to. What sort of cake do you think he’d like? Sponge? Fruit? Chocolate?’
‘Actually what he’d really love is one in the shape of a glider. It’s his hobby, you know.’
This was a bit of a shock. ‘I’d been thinking of a nice chocolate sponge with his name on it in white buttercream? Perhaps some candles?’
‘Yes, a glider made out of chocolate sponge would be brilliant! Thank you so much, Gilly. I knew I could rely on you.’
Gilly’s murmured appreciation of Daphne’s faith was a bit half-hearted.
‘It’s going to be a surprise party, you know,’ Daphne went on.
‘Oh!’ Gilly’s protective instincts broke through her desire to seem helpful and supportive at all times. ‘Are you sure he’d like that? I mean, not everyone has the temperament for a surprise party.’ She’d been to a couple when the person was obviously not at all happy to have their friends jump out from behind bushes when they were unprepared and not wearing their make-up. ‘William is quite … sensitive?’ That wasn’t the right word; it made him sound like a poet. ‘I mean, he’s got a quiet personality. There’s nothing of the showman about him.’
‘It’ll be fine! Don’t you worry. He’ll be delighted. You just get that cake made.’
‘You haven’t given me a date?’
‘Oh, sorry! Tuesday next week OK for you?’
‘Yes,’ said Gilly faintly.
‘And I’m arranging a minibus to pick everyone up so no one has to worry about drinking and driving.’
Although she hadn’t said as much, Gilly sensed that Daphne felt it was a bit silly to worry about drinking and driving.
‘Great!’ Maybe she could get the cake to the venue beforehand. Otherwise she’d be stuck in the back of a minibus with the cake on her knees. If it hadn’t had to be a glider she could have put the cake in the special container she’d bought from a party years ago and had used at least twice. As it was, it would be more complicated.
‘So I’ll be back with all the details soon,’ said Daphne. ‘Lovely to chat to you! Byeee!’
Although her response to Daphne’s glider cake suggestion hadn’t been one of overwhelming joy, Gilly was a little excited at the prospect. She immediately put ‘glider cakes’ into her search engine and had a look. When her children were small she used to make amazing cakes in the shapes of pirate ships, ski slopes and mice and they’d always loved them. She really liked William so did he deserve anything less than a cake in the shape of a glider?
She considered ringing Daphne to find out roughly how many the cake was going to have to feed but decided Daphne would probably say something vague and unhelpful. No, she was going to go this alone and make William the best cake he’d ever had. Although going on what Daphne had said about him never having had a party, maybe he’d never had a cake, either? In which case it was bound to be the best one!
After ordering a couple of enormous cake tins from the internet, she made a list for the cash and carry. She added food colouring to the list of normal cake ingredients. And then she sat down and thought about her gliding experience. What had been so magical had been seeing the landscape from above, in the silence, as if one was a bird. Maybe it would be better to recreate the landscape in cake, from a bird’s-eye view, and add the glider later?
She looked online again and saw that other cake makers had had this idea. But instead of sitting the glider on the cake, she would suspend it over the cake, from the corner. Yes! She was happy. She’d work out the engineering later.
She rang Helena. ‘Hi, darling, I know you’re busy but I’m going shopping. Is there anything particular you’d like or shall I just get what I think you need?’
‘Oh, Mum! You read my mind! Jago has done all the housekeeping lately and it would be wonderful if I contributed something. I’ll pay you back.’
‘We’ll discuss payment later. Shall I drop it round to you? Or will you pick it up?’
‘I’ll wait until Jago goes out and then pop over. It’ll be nice to have a break and some company.
But it wasn’t until a few days after Gilly had rung that Helena finally got over to see her. She knew her mother would have put everything in the fridge and possibly made a lasagne or something as well. With garlic bread. She was also looking forward to a long hot bath in her mother’s bathroom, with her mother’s bath products. Washing arrangements in Jago’s house were still a bit primitive.
Although she had kept up her rate of work since the Springtime Show, she was beginning to lose hope that she’d have enough work to fill a stall respectably at the World of Wool. She had a good reputation as a weaver which meant all sorts of people would go to that event just to see what she was doing these days. There’d be fellow weavers, teachers, potential customers and just friends – she had to have enough good work or she might as well phone in sick. This was not something that self-employed artists could ever do! Jago had suggested wall hangings but she found herself completely lacking in inspiration. She wanted to display work she believed in, even if it was different from what she usually did.
She came into her old home through the back door to see her mother frowning at something on the kitchen table. Ulysses, the cat, was shut in his cat basket. As he quite often slept in there through choice this wasn’t actually cruel but this time the door was closed. This was unusual. She went over to the kitchen table on which was an enormous cake.
‘Mum? What is this? And what is it supposed to be?’
‘Can’t you tell? I’ve had to shut Uly up in case his hairs got in it.’ Her mother sounded tired and disappointed.
Helena looked at the cake a bit more carefully. ‘Oh! I get it now! It’s a landscape, from above. And you’ve put in all the fields and hedges and the river. And the mountains. It’s amazing! It’s just like when we were little and you made us such brilliant cakes. I love your hedgerows made out of chocolate flakes. I don’t like those shop-made cakes that are all smooth and professional but you know they won’t taste nice.’
‘I’m not a big fondant-icing fan either,’ said Gilly, looking more relaxed now.
‘Look!’ said Helena. ‘There’s a little caravan. Do you remember the caravan cake you made me for my Sylvanian Families? And a duck pond! With little ducklings!’
‘I did get a bit carried away, I must admit. Once I’d started I couldn’t stop adding detail.’
‘You are so talented! You should enter Bake Off.’
‘It’s only a cake! Now, find yourself a towel in the airing cupboard and have your bath. I’ll make you an omelette when you come down.’
‘A Mummy-omelette! Yes please. Jago’s out or I’d have brought him round for one, too.’
‘Has he gone anywhere nice?’ asked Gilly.
‘Just a meeting, I think. He didn’t seem overjoyed to be going.’
‘Oh,’ said Gilly. ‘You go and have your bath then. I’ll see how you’re doing before I start cooking.’
Helena gave her mother a hug before going upstairs.
She turned on the taps and went to hunt for a towel in the walk-in airing cupboard. She wanted to find a non-B & B towel so her mother wouldn’t have to wash it immediately when something right at the back on the bottom shelf drew her attention. It was a Harrods carrier bag and seeing it brought back a flood of memories. She pulled it out and saw that yes, it did still contain what she thought it did. Several old fleeces, dyed in eye-popping colours, rolled together in a felted mass. She’d forgotten about them but now she remembered the day she’d dyed them, thinking she was going to spin and then weave them. And here they were, in her mother’s airing cupboard, as vibrant as they were when they went in.
She got in the bath and lay there, as always her thoughts becoming more creative as the hot water did its work. She thought of her mother’s cake – in theory it was a crazy idea but actually, it was lovely. Why didn’t she make a wall hanging of a landscape from above? She could use the fleece. She could do another as a cross section of a piece of land, like a piece of cake. (She realised it had been ages since she’d had a good bit of cake!) And the cross section, starting from the bottom up, could show all the strata and layers of the earth ending with a hedge and possibly sky and clouds as the top layer. Once she’d worked out a pattern it should be quick to do. Fleece was lovely and fat! It would take up lots of space.
When she went downstairs later wearing her mother’s dressing gown and smelling of her bath products she was excited.
The kitchen was no longer taken up by cake and a sulky Ulysses now sat in front of the range cooker, the end of his tail flicking with resentment.
‘Mum – I’ve had a brilliant idea! I want to borrow your idea of a landscape from above. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful wall hanging? And then I thought I’d do a cross section of the earth too. Just a slice, obviously. Once I’ve worked out what I need to do it’ll be quite quick to make, I think.’
‘Oh?’ Gilly held the bread knife over the loaf, waiting for Helena to explain further.
‘I found that bag of fleeces I dyed when I was in college. They were in the airing cupboard. Not only are they amazingly bright colours, fleece is really fat—’
‘—and so will take up lots of lovely space? Darling, it sounds brilliant. Now, omelette coming up. Why don’t you stay the night and then you can have wine with it.’
‘And we can watch property porn on telly? I’ve been working so hard I’ve hardly had any time off. That would be lovely! I’ll just text Jago to tell him not to expect me home.’
It was only after Helena had left following a proper B & B breakfast that she remembered she hadn’t asked her mother whom she was making the cake for. ‘I’m going to be a better daughter when this show is over,’ she said out loud.
