A Springtime Affair: An utterly gorgeous feel-good romance
A Springtime Affair: Chapter 20

The show was over and everyone was packing up when Jago reappeared.

‘Hi! A mate was coming back this way so I thought I’d drop your car at home and get a lift back with him. I thought you might like a hand clearing up. Where’s all your stock?’

‘Sold! But, Jago, that’s so kind! After you’ve taken Mum home and everything – to come all the way back to help me with this lot.’ Helena gestured to the loom and other bits of equipment she had used to dress her stall.

‘’S OK. It’s what mates are for,’ said Jago. He started dismantling the loom which, as he’d helped her assemble it when she first decided to move into weaving with silk, he knew how to do.

‘But you must let me take you out to dinner, in return,’ said Helena firmly. ‘I’ve done so well today, it’s the least I can do for you.’

‘I was going to have to knock up something out of leftovers for us, so I’m well up for eating out.’

She smiled. ‘Anywhere you fancy?’

‘There’s a gastro pub I’ve read reviews of. It’s a bit off our patch so it would be nice to go there while we’re over this way.’

‘Great! If you know where it is, I’m happy to go.’

‘I’ll drive, then you can drink.’

She paused, a large plastic box in her hands. ‘You didn’t come all the way over here so you could drive the pickup and not risk it with me for any longer than you had to?’

‘No,’ he said shortly. ‘I have many faults but I am not possessive about my pickup. You drive it as well as I do.’

Helena’s heart warmed to him another bit. At this rate she’d be in love with him before the summer.

They found the pub without too much difficulty and went into the bar. ‘If we don’t like what’s on the menu, we don’t have to stay,’ said Jago.

‘I think we will like what’s on the menu,’ said Helena, looking at it. ‘It’s got chips on it and I think after my long day I deserve some.’

‘Then you shall have chips!’ said Jago. ‘And a large steak to go with them?’ He inspected the menu carefully. ‘You can have sweet potato chips instead if you like.’

‘Nooo! Nothing wrong with sweet potatoes but if I’m having chips, I want proper ones.’

They had ordered and Helena was sipping a large glass of red wine when she looked across at a table and then leaned forward so she could speak to Jago privately.

‘I recognise those two men over there,’ she murmured, shifting her chair so she wasn’t facing them. ‘One ordered a scarf from me today – didn’t catch his name but I’ve got his card and I know exactly what scarf he wants – and the other …’ She laughed. ‘Although you would never guess, he has recently run a half-marathon with his colleagues.’ She frowned. ‘Or maybe he was just in the photograph with the runners. It was in the local paper.’

‘So you don’t know these people in real life, you just recognise them with your superpowers?’

‘No, the first one I met.’ She found her handbag and burrowed about in it until she came up with a card. ‘Here you are! It’s him.’

Jago took the card and then at Helena. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. Do you know him?’

‘Of him. We’re in the same business only he’s a massive company and I’m a one-man band.’

‘You mean you couldn’t afford one of my scarves?’ Instantly she began planning the design for one she’d make as a present for him. She took another sip of her wine. It was delicious, and she was glad Jago had led them here. ‘How was Mum when you drove her home?’

‘She was her usual charming self but she did seem a bit twitchy. When I asked if she’d enjoyed the show she said it would have been better if she could have driven herself there and was annoyed she didn’t just change the date for her car being serviced.’

‘Oh!’ said Helena. ‘Martin always arranges for her car to be serviced. Since the divorce. Cars are a blue job, you know. Women can’t ring up a garage and make an appointment to have one serviced.’

‘Really?’

‘Mum indulges him because it’s the only thing he does that’s remotely helpful and she doesn’t want to undermine him.’

‘So, what’s all this colour-coded job thing?’

‘Cressida thinks it’s simpler for men if jobs have colours. Blue and pink. Cars are blue, doing the online grocery order is pink. Don’t get ideas of it going on between us. I prefer everything to be mauve.’

‘Which means?’

‘Whoever has time and thinks of it, does it.’ She paused. ‘It seems to work OK, doesn’t it?’

She looked at him, wondering how he felt about her, whether he felt anything beyond friendship. They – well, he – had come up with the idea of pretending to be an item because it suited them but supposing one of them, i.e. her, wanted to change? To stop pretending? Because she did want them to be a real couple, who touched, who slept together.

Annoyingly they hadn’t added a clause to their casual arrangement which told them how to deal with this situation. Supposing now, her inhibitions softened by wine and tiredness, she reached her hand across the table and put it on his large, roughened, very slightly hairy one? Would he get her unspoken message? And if he did would he look slightly horrified and embarrassed? Say, ‘You’re a lovely girl but I’ve never seen you like that?’ Or something similar.

Helena decided she would die of embarrassment if this happened and took another sip of wine.

‘I think you need another one of those,’ said Jago. ‘And here comes the food. Those chips look amazing! Can we have some mayo to go with those?’ he asked the waitress. ‘Thank you so much!’

The food was as good as it looked and Helena crunched her way through it, too tired to talk much. That was one of the many joys of Jago: he was perfectly happy to be silent. When she’d finished her steak she felt a lot better.

‘Now, pudding,’ she said. ‘I’m paying and I’m insisting. I won’t feel I’ve taken you out for dinner if you only have one course and no alcohol.’

‘Oh, right! I’ll hop up and get the menu.’ Having done this he perused it. ‘I think steam pudding with custard, cream and ice cream.’

‘I’ll join you!’ said Helena, feeling bold and a bit anxious. ‘I sort of wish Cressida was here.’

‘Really?’

‘She’d be so utterly horrified! And although I know it’s childish of me, I do quite like horrifying her.’

He laughed. ‘I know what you mean. I can’t resist shocking my sister either.’

‘Oh? How’s Zuleika and her kitten?’

‘The kitten is growing rapidly and is hardly ever out of trouble, apparently. My sister is going to keep her.’

Helena smiled. She had reason to be very grateful to that kitten. Without it her first meeting with Jago would have been very different.

‘So,’ Jago said, after several spoonfuls of pudding, which included fresh raspberries and was very much lighter than its title suggested it might be. ‘What are you going to do with yourself now this show is over? You’ve worked so hard!’

Helena gave a laugh that was almost a sigh of exhaustion. ‘I’m going to work even harder! I’ve sold every blessed scarf, rug, throw and cushion cover, lots of it destined for the big World of Wool show at the end of the month. It’s going to be pretty much impossible to restock in time.’

‘Oh, Helly!’ said Jago, putting his hand on her shoulder. ‘I didn’t realise.’

‘Mum suggested that she give me back everything I’d ever given her which is something. I’ll ask Cressida for her stuff too, but it’s not going to be that much.’

‘Can I make a suggestion? I’m not any kind of an artist or creative person but could you do something weird, huge, that wouldn’t take you long? Weaving with rags, that sort of thing?’

‘I’m not a massive fan of rag weaving but I could think along those lines, cutting up blankets and using them.’ Her imagination was sparked. ‘I’ve got some blankets that got terribly eaten by moths. I should have thrown them away but I put them in Mum’s freezer instead. I could use those!’

Jago smiled, clearly pleased to have had the original idea.

‘After all,’ Helena went on, ‘although obviously they’d have to be up to standard, I wouldn’t have to love them. As long as I had, say, three … wall hangings perhaps?’

‘With “found objects” woven into them?’

‘If I was desperate,’ said Helena. ‘I have always insisted on things being functional.’

‘Wall hangings are functional if they’re hiding an unsightly wall,’ said Jago. He paused. ‘Are you going to finish your pudding?’

‘Not if I can avoid it. I feel a bit sick. Please …’ She pushed her bowl towards him. ‘Go for it!’

She gave a massive yawn as he put down his spoon. ‘Come on, let’s get you home,’ he said. ‘You’re dead on your feet.’

‘Dead in my chair,’ she corrected him but smiled. Even if they were just friends it was lovely to be with someone who looked out for her. ‘I’ll just go and pay the bill.’

She almost fell out of the pickup when they got home. ‘Do you mind if I leave things here in the back, or do you need it first thing?’

‘Don’t you worry about it. I’ll put it under cover in case it rains, but you get to bed.’

She set aside her concerns about keeping their relationship platonic and went to him with her arms open for a hug. He hugged her back, very hard, and it was lovely. ‘You’ve done so well today, Helly,’ he said. ‘I’m so proud of you!’

She didn’t quite know how to respond to this. ‘And I’m so grateful to you, you’ve been brilliant, feeding me, looking after me, making it possible to work ridiculous hours.’ A thought of how resentful her father had been of anything her mother did that didn’t involve him floated through her mind. ‘And now I’ve got to do it all again!’

‘But you will. You’ll do something amazing. Because you’re amazing. Now go in. I’ll bring you in a mug of hot chocolate and a hot-water bottle shortly.’

‘I can’t believe you’ve got a hot-water bottle,’ she said, utterly amazed at the thought.

‘I borrowed one from your mum when I dropped her off earlier. She was quite surprised when I asked but totally understood when I explained why. She gave me a hug.’

‘That is so sweet! Now I’ll have a quick shower and then bed.’

The hot-water bottle was in her bed and the mug of chocolate on the tea chest that was her bedside table by the time she was out of the shower. She realised that if she hadn’t fancied Jago at all she’d still want to marry him and bear his children. And she did fancy him. A lot.

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