Helena arranged to meet Martin near his office after work the next day. It had taken a little persuasion to get him to see her and he was late. Helena tried not to be annoyed but he always had thought his time was more precious than hers. But she smiled and got up and kissed him when he appeared. He accepted her hug but he didn’t return it. Helena realised he probably knew why she was there and wasn’t happy about it.
‘I think I can guess what this is about,’ said Martin.
‘Oh?’
‘Mum sent you to try to convince me that it’s OK to have another man moving in with her. But it’s not OK.’
‘First, Mum didn’t send me. I don’t suppose she knows we’re meeting and, second, I’m not trying to convince you of anything.’ This was a small untruth but she allowed it. Martin wasn’t going to change his mind easily, if at all.
‘Oh?’
Helena flirted with the idea of telling him this meeting was all her idea but decided life was complicated enough without lying. ‘Well, actually, I am going to try to talk you round to the idea of Mum and William living in the house together. And William asked me.’
‘The snake! Trying to get you to do his dirty work!’
‘It’s not dirty work! They want to be together; William wants you to be happy about it. That’s perfectly reasonable and he’s not a snake. He really loves Mum.’
‘Mum? Or her very expensive real estate?’
Helena swallowed hard, shocked that he should mention ‘real estate’. After all, he and Cressida had set Gilly up with a man who had tried to persuade her to sell her house. She wondered what kind of kickback they’d offered him? And had they thought through the implications of Leo inviting Gilly to live with him? Bang went their free nanny-cum-gardener! Maybe they’d reckoned his property was so fantastic that Gilly would happily move into it, having sold hers and given them the money, which would at least have got them their new mansion. Although of course Gilly didn’t want to sell and he didn’t actually own his property. Gilly had explained all this to her. They probably hadn’t bargained on him wanting to live in Fairacres when he couldn’t convince her to sell – that scuppered all their plans. And would Martin have been happy for Leo to live in his old family home?
But now wasn’t the time to ask him. She forced down her fury at the way he and Cressida had behaved. She was here as a peacemaker and it wouldn’t help to rake up those things. ‘William has a very nice house of his own. He doesn’t need Mum’s house; he just wants to live with her. And she wants to live with him.’
‘I’m surprised at you, Helena. You’re the sentimental one. Aren’t you bothered about there being another man in Dad’s place? What about respecting the memories?’
‘What memories, Martin?’ asked Helena softly. ‘Were there many good ones?’
‘Of course there were good ones! Christmas! When we were little and all the cousins came to stay. It was brilliant.’
‘But more recently, I remember some really awful times—’
‘Like what?’ Martin came back quick as a flash.
‘Sunday lunches when nothing Mum did was right …’ Helena quailed as she thought about it. ‘He was on at her all the time. Had her jumping up and down to fetch this, that and the other. Never letting her finish a sentence, interrupting her …’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, all couples bicker.’
‘It wasn’t bickering, Martin, it was bullying.’
‘Not as I remember it.’
Martin had inherited some of his father’s characteristics; Helena had only come to realise this fact as she grew up, although they had got on well when they were small.
‘Anyway,’ she said. ‘We’re all grown up now. We have relationships of our own. And Mum wants another chance of happiness. Is that so wrong?’
‘Yes! I’m not having another man in Dad’s place at home.’
Helena opened her mouth to tell him how ridiculous he was being but remembered again that she was not here to have a row with Martin, she was here to make life happier for her mother. ‘Well, just think about it, Martin. Mum’s a relatively young woman—’
‘She’s a grandmother. She should just concentrate on doing what she does well and not mess about like this. Our family home should be for her family, not for any Tom, Dick or Harry.’
‘William isn’t any of those,’ said Helena in a desperate attempt to stop her brother being so angry.
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous!’ Martin was shouting now. ‘Why can’t Mum just be a grandmother and stop all this nonsense? She’d have been perfectly happy and fulfilled if she’d agreed to our plan.’
‘OK,’ said Helena quietly. ‘I’m sorry you feel like this but I don’t think I can do anything about it.’
‘How did you get on?’ asked Jago when she got home, handing her a glass of wine.
‘Utter failure. He’s in complete denial about Mum. He thinks she should just be a grandmother and not have a life of her own. So unfair!’ She pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, watching him stir something on the stove.
‘You might feel differently about it when you have children yourself,’ said Jago.
‘You think?’
He nodded. ‘Yup. I think when you’ve got a little one you’ll be forever running over to Gilly with your baby.’ He tasted something and then threw down the spoon. ‘I won’t be able to be around all the time during the day. You’ll need your Mum.’
‘I’m sure I will, but I hope I won’t expect her to sacrifice her entire life for me and my babies.’
Jago smiled in a way Helena thought was distinctly soppy. ‘You want to have lots of babies?’
She was feeling fairly soppy herself just then. ‘Think so. I’d see how it went after the first.’
‘So we’d better get a move on. Get married. It’s not essential to be married to have children, of course, but I think your mum might prefer it.’
Helena wasn’t sure her mother would particularly care, but she was keen on the getting married idea. She nodded.
‘So, we’d better go ring shopping!’
‘What a good idea!’
‘Would tomorrow be too soon?’ said Jago. ‘Tell me if you feel rushed.’
‘Tomorrow would be perfect.’ She smiled. ‘This is a lovely ending to a rather medium day!’
‘It’s so kind of you to come over and help with the puddings,’ said Gilly the following week.
Helena hugged her. ‘It’s a tradition, us making puddings together. What are we doing?’ Helena had been delighted when Gilly had asked for her help with the ‘announcement’ lunch she and William were giving.
‘We’ll start with the amaretti cheesecake. Do take your ring off!’
Helena looked at her left hand with a sentimental smile. Her fourth finger was adorned with an antique topaz and diamond ring which she thought was the most beautiful ring ever. ‘I will. But I’ll put it in my bra so I don’t forget it.’
‘It is a lovely ring,’ said Gilly.
‘Jago wanted to buy me a socking great diamond it would take years to pay for. His previous fiancée had insisted on one of those. He was surprised and pleased when I just wanted something that I really loved and didn’t cost a fortune.’
Gilly, who obviously wanted to go on chatting about Helena’s love life, was on a mission to get the puddings done too. She handed her daughter an apron. ‘He had a bad time with her, then?’
‘Yes. When the whole scandal about the fire blew up she completely lost interest in him. Although to be fair it must have been horrible being doorstepped and having your picture all over the papers.’ Helena reached for a packet of digestive biscuits. ‘Do you want these blitzed or shall I just bash them?’
‘Bash, please. I want the food processor for the amaretti. They’re a bit harder.’
‘How many are we catering for?’ said Helena a little later.
‘About fifty, I think. You never quite know, do you?’
Helena knew she was thinking about Martin and Cressida and hoping they’d come although there had been no communication between them since that awful evening. ‘So that’s ten puddings? Five to a pud?’
‘Yes, I’m doing five kinds of pudding but doubling up.’
‘You’re not over-catering are you, Mum?’ This was said with a wry smile because Helena knew the answer.
‘Probably but you know what it’s like, if people don’t see much food they don’t dare eat it. Then there are leftovers, and your classic under-caterer gives even less the next time till it’s one nibble per person.’
Helena laughed. Her mother was very good at justifying her tendency to have too much food but she did agree that everyone enjoyed having at least two helpings of something sweet and creamy.
Helena was folding mashed raspberries and strawberries into whipped cream when Gilly said, ‘Have you thought about your wedding, Helly?’
‘Yes. You can’t help it when you’re engaged, I’ve discovered.’
‘So what do you fancy?’
Helena looked at her mother. ‘What I’d really love – but only if you’re absolutely OK with it …’
‘Yes?’
Helena knew that her mother knew what she was going to say. ‘I’d love to have it here – in a marquee in the garden. Simple, not too expensive, flowers in jam jars, fairy lights in the trees.’
‘It sounds lovely! And I’d be thrilled to have it here. I’d be offended if you tried to have it anywhere else – but the fact is, the garden is a bit small.’
‘I’m sure it’s big enough. Jago hasn’t many relatives he still talks to and not so many friends.’ She paused. ‘Although I suppose there may be some he’d like to get back in touch with, now all the scandal and disruption is well over.’
‘What about his parents? Where do they stand in all this?’
‘Well, his dad took his brother’s side. That’s the wicked uncle, so he and Jago don’t speak. His mother lives in Australia, I think. She moved as far away as she could from everything. There’s his sister of course. She’s a bit bossy, I gather, but they are close.’
‘Poor Jago,’ said Gilly. ‘Yet he seems to manage without having parents.’ She became thoughtful again and Helena knew she was thinking about Martin.
Helena brought the subject back to the wedding. ‘But you’re not doing the catering for my wedding. Not even the puddings. I want you – you and William – to enjoy the wedding and not have to work.’
‘Oh, darling. How sweet of you.’ Gilly suddenly seemed a bit tearful. Helena couldn’t tell if this was normal ‘my little girl is getting married’ stuff or because of her wretched brother. ‘But could you restrict your guest list to fifty? That’s how many we’re having tomorrow. We had to leave out lots of people we’d have liked to invite.’
‘But you’re probably inviting all sorts of friends and family of William’s we wouldn’t have for the wedding.’
‘True,’ Gilly acknowledged. ‘But I do have a lot of cousins – people I know and am fond of.’
Helena nodded. This extended family had been very kind and supportive during the divorce. She could see Gilly wouldn’t like to leave them off a guest list. But still, the wedding was all a long way off. It was far too early in the proceedings to think about whom they would ask.
‘It’s such a shame I had to sell the orchard as well as the building plot,’ Gilly said.
‘It works OK, doesn’t it?’ said Helena. The orchard had gone to neighbours who had grazed their children’s ponies in it.
‘It did,’ said Gilly, ‘but the other day I met Natasha at the Farmers’ Market and she said her son was coming home for a bit and wanted to put yurts on there and offer glamping.’
‘Oh!’ Helena tried to imagine the view outside her old bedroom window including yurts.
‘And apparently several of the trees are really old now so he wants to take them down to make room for the yurts. Natasha seemed a bit embarrassed about it and asked if it would affect my bed and breakfast business.’
‘What did you say?’
‘She was being served then so I didn’t say anything. But I don’t think my normal clients would fancy sleeping in a yurt.’ Gilly paused. ‘I don’t think I can complain, can I? Yurts aren’t permanent structures. I don’t suppose they need planning permission.’
Helena resolved to find out. Jago would know.
‘So what’s the next pudding?’ she said.
‘Would you mind chopping nuts for brownies?’
‘No, but you could make another recipe – one that doesn’t involve nuts? Less work?’
‘I think it’s better to make the recipe I know best,’ said Gilly.
Then Helena remembered – her mother used to make those brownies to send to Martin at university. He loved them. She concentrated on her chopping for a while and then suggested they put on some music. There was so much unsaid between them, it would be good to fill the silence.
After lunch, they went to look at the marquee.
‘It looks amazing!’ said Helena. ‘So big! We could have a wedding here easily, surely.’
Gilly shook her head. ‘No, I promise you, this only takes fifty. You’d need something bigger unless you leave off most of your relations and half your friends.’
‘Couldn’t you fit a bigger one in here?’ asked Helena.
‘Not really,’ said Gilly.
Helena sighed. ‘Well, we don’t need to worry about my wedding just yet.’
‘No,’ Gilly agreed. ‘But this marquee definitely needs flowers. A few big arrangements, I think, and then tomorrow I’ll put posies on the tables. Let’s get cutting.’
As they clipped and snipped in the garden, getting enough material to fill the big stone crocks Gilly wanted to stand in the empty spaces, Gilly said, ‘Do you remember when me and other parents got together to turn the school hall into a summery bower for a play?’
‘Oh yes! A cut-down version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream – I was Titania because I had the longest hair.’
‘You looked lovely!’
‘And so did the hall.’
‘It did involve hacking down whole branches of leaves and every flower in the garden – in every garden in the village practically.’ Gilly smiled, obviously thinking back to her days as a young mother with fondness. ‘Of course we had the orchard then so I had extra trees I could use, but it still wasn’t enough, so a group of us mums went into the churchyard and started raiding that! We were terrified someone would come along and tell us off. But it looked so pretty!’
‘There are photos somewhere,’ said Helena. ‘I remember.’
‘We carried lots of it into the church afterwards so as not to waste all that work and because we felt guilty about the churchyard ivy being torn off in strips. I was worried about decorating the church at Christmas without it. But it grew back OK and the churchyard always had wonderful holly.’ Gilly fell silent.
‘OK, Mum,’ said Helena, thinking her mother’s reminiscence had gone on just a bit too long. ‘Let’s finish up here. I want to see your outfit for tomorrow. Did you buy a hat? Or just a dress?’
‘Oh, I didn’t buy anything new. I’ve got lots of clothes.’
‘Mum! This is a party that your lovely new man is giving so his family can meet you properly – and so our lot can meet him – and you haven’t bought something new to wear?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s too late now!’
‘We could always pop down to the supermarket,’ said Gilly. ‘Get something from there?’
Helena tutted and shook her head before putting her arm round her mother and leading her into the house.
‘You look lovely in this,’ said Helena, pulling out a dress that brought out the colour of her mother’s eyes.
‘Yes, but I wore it when I went out with Leo. It reminds me of him. In fact, I’ll have to move it on.’
‘Oh. Seems a shame.’ But Helena did understand. ‘Maybe keep it but just not wear it tomorrow.’
‘OK, I’ll keep it. So what else have we got? What about this?’
Helena shook her head and tried to pick her words. ‘No … too mumsy.’
‘OK. Definitely get rid of that then.’
‘Shall I find a bag?’
‘Look in the top shelf. I keep them there.’
Eventually they created an outfit they both liked and which didn’t have any bad connotations. It was a long, finely pleated skirt that Gilly had bought in a charity shop years ago because she loved it and had now come back into fashion, and a fitted wrap top that, Helena declared, made her waist look tiny.
‘And your big locket on the black velvet ribbon,’ said Helena. ‘Now, let’s arrange a wash and blow-dry.’
‘Too short notice,’ said Gilly, running her fingers through her hair out of sight of the mirror.
‘I’m going to ring Debbie. I know she’ll sort you out; she never lets you down.’
‘It’s not really fair—’
‘I’ll ring her,’ said Helena firmly. ‘She’ll probably fit you in really early tomorrow so you’ll have plenty of time to get ready. And what about your make-up?’
‘I’ll do my own make-up!’ Gilly seemed a bit panicked at the thought of someone else putting make-up on her. ‘You know what those make-up artists are like. They always want you to look natural – the last thing I want!’
Helena laughed. ‘I do remember that time we went to the health farm and everyone had makeovers.’
‘They all looked amazing and I looked awful,’ said Gilly. ‘I couldn’t understand why it didn’t work on me.’
‘They looked natural,’ said Helena.
‘So did I,’ said Gilly, ‘which was why I hated it. Now, glass of wine? Supper? Why don’t you ring Jago and ask him to join us?’
‘Actually, I’ve got a few things I must do, but I’ll come early tomorrow. At about eleven? Just to help you with the flowers for the tables and anything else you may be panicking about.’
‘Which will be everything! Supposing William doesn’t turn up!’
‘He’ll turn up. He adores you.’
When Helena was driving away she reflected it wasn’t William not turning up that was worrying her mum, it was Martin. And he wouldn’t turn up, not if he was still feeling angry and resentful. She had a few phone calls to make, she realised, before she could relax and sort out what she was wearing for the lunch the following day.
