Escape to the Cotswolds

Gordon moved away, leaving Holly to her own devices, but he reappeared about ten minutes later and put a cup of coffee in her hand.

‘You look like you need caffeine.’

Remembering back to Kate and Charlie’s party – what a long time ago that seemed now – it was apparent this man was going to make a habit of plying her with drinks every time they met, be they alcoholic or not.

‘Does it show?’

‘No, but it takes one to know one. Anyway, it would be less than hospitable of me not to offer you some kind of sustenance, seeing as how we’re friends.’

‘We are? Nice of you to say so, particularly on such short acquaintance,’ but it gave her a warm feeling. After a little while he was back, asking if she’d like to see the rest of the premises.

‘There’s more?’

‘Much more,’ he said and proceeded to give Holly a guided tour of what was plainly his pride and joy. She loved the musty smell of the place and was delighted when Gordon didn’t rush her but told her to take as long as she liked.

‘As you can see, I’m not overwhelmed by customers at the moment.’

Holly picked up a piece by Clarice Cliff, loving the way she used colour and wishing she could buy it. This was not the time, however, for self-indulgence and regretfully she put it back in its place.

Gordon put a ‘please ring’ notice on the front door, slipped the latch, and led her through to the back. This was a much larger area even than the shop and it housed all sorts. There was a beautiful ancient spinning wheel that she immediately wanted, seeing her parlour as a perfect setting for it. She wouldn’t have had a clue how it worked but it would make a lovely ornament. She rather liked the picture she’d conjured up and for a moment felt a bit dreamy.

‘Earth to Holly. Where are you, Holly?’

‘Picturing this at home in my parlour. Anywhere else and I would have called it a lounge or a sitting room, but parlour definitely suits the cottage.’

‘I’d love to see it.’

It was an innocent enough remark but Holly couldn’t help feeling there was more than politeness in Gordon’s statement. He sounded a tad eager. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond but then her attention was drawn to a magnificent old pine chest that she lost her heart to – it would have really set off her studio table and the, for her, awkward moment passed.

‘I could keep masses of stuff in here,’ she said, pulling out one of the drawers. ‘And the room is big enough to take it.’

Reluctantly she turned her back on it. A glance at the ticket had told her the price and there was no way she could justify spending that much money on something that wasn’t a necessity. Gordon wasn’t a fool. He summed up the situation without her uttering a word.

‘I could give you first refusal if anyone shows any interest.’

It sounded like Mrs Foster all over again.

‘I wish, and thank you but no.’

She moved from one beautiful piece of furniture to another, this being mainly what the back area was given over to. More than once she ran her hand over smooth wood, marvelling at how it could feel cool and warm at the same time.

‘You’re so lucky to work with such fabulous craftsmanship. How can you bear to part with any of it? I’d go under in no time because I’d never be able to let any of it go.’

‘So what do you do when someone wants to buy one of your paintings or any other piece of artwork that you’ve made with your own fair hands; put your heart and soul into?’

He had a point. He also had chairs! Exactly what she wanted, six of them and at a price that made her wince but which she could afford. She didn’t haggle but he still gave her a discount, insisting that he’d have done the same for any customer who tried to push the price down. It was how his business worked. People expected him to be beaten down and he built it into his asking price. He also promised to deliver them.

‘How about this evening, after I close?’

‘Thank you. That would be fantastic.’

Then she remembered that Emma and Tom and the boys were coming for supper, so of course she asked Gordon if he would like to come too and she was delighted when he said yes. The twinkle in his eyes that she’d seen at Kate and Charlie’s was back. Interesting.

As it was close on lunchtime and supper was going to be early Holly thought she’d better go home and start preparing, particularly as Gordon was coming as well. He was her first new grown-up visitor and she felt one should try to make a good impression.Who did she think she was kidding? Then she thought of Harry again and the bleakness returned as she remembered the dinner parties they’d had with friends, how proud he’d always seemed to be of her, how badly he’d let her down. She gave herself a mental shake. I’m moving on now. I’ll have my own dinner parties.

***

It was a fantastic evening! As Easter wasn’t too far away, Holly had cut some yellow cardboard into egg shapes and drawn a line just below the middle to represent a belt. Using different coloured card, buttons, and paints, she’d put everything on the newspaper-covered studio table, together with scissors, glue, and cotton wool.

Gordon was the first to arrive and together they unloaded the chairs and set them around the table. Holly was delighted with them and grabbed a couple of scatter cushions from the parlour to raise the seats for the twins. Being little herself she knew how uncomfortable it was if you couldn’t quite reach. They’d just finished organising the furniture when the Carters arrived.

‘Come on, this way, you’ll have to work for your dinner,’ Holly said, herding them into the studio. ‘We can’t eat without tablemats,’ she declared seriously, totally ignoring the fact that the table was already engraved with her childhood carvings. ‘As I haven’t got any, we’ll have to make them. We’ve got half an hour before dinner will be ready, so let’s get to it.’

After Holly tied an apron around the neck of each twin to save Emma washing their clothes …

‘No chance. If it’s not paint, it’ll be dinner.’

… they all spent a hilarious half an hour cutting and pasting and painting until each had a Humpty Dumpty, though no two were alike, and one definitely had a squint!

‘Okay, dinner’s ready. Sorry it’s paper plates and plastic cutlery. I haven’t got the real thing yet. I’m still waiting for Mummy to take me shopping.’

‘I’m ready whenever you are.’

‘After half-term then. It’s probably not a good idea to go while school’s out. Can you do a Sunday?’

‘Tom?’ Emma queried, looking across at her husband.

‘No problem.’

‘No problem, the man said. We’ll get it done.’

‘Wonderful. In the meantime let’s get this mess off the table and eat. Oh, and by the way, here are some I prepared earlier,’ Holly said, pulling out some tablemats she brought to the Cotswolds because Harry had never liked them.

‘But you said you didn’t have any.’

How do you tell a six-year-old that you lied, without saying that you lied?

‘I know, Jamie. But I knew the ones you made would still be wet, and in any case they are for you to take home.’

‘You told a fib!’

‘Er, well yes, I’m afraid I did.’

He looked thoughtful. Everyone else was thoroughly enjoying the exchange … everyone except Holly.

‘It’s naughty to tell fibs.’

This was getting worse!