“By the way, Nicole rang me earlier asking for you and didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know where you were. Although, even if I had known, I’m not sure I’d have told her. She sounded particularly aggressive. Do I want to know what that’s about?”
“No. It was nothing.”
Pierre would have normally defended Nicole but for some reason, just now, she couldn’t make herself say the usual kind words.
Laura didn’t push it. “Come and choose any piece of silk you like. And tell me about this festival thing. Might you find a gorgeous man there?”
“Don’t you give up?” Pierre sighed as she finished the call and lowered her freezing limbs into the scented, soapy water.
______
She dressed with care: warm leggings under her jeans, a green cotton roll neck matched with a purple and green knitted jumper. Pulling on her Wellies over warm socks, she was now prepared for all weathers. On impulse she found the large cotton scarf she’d been wearing three years ago on her trip to Wales, although she wouldn’t need to wear it like sarong this time.
In the linen cupboard down the corridor, she found two blankets along with rubber mats to protect them from the damp ground and packed them into her satchel. Hopefully, she wasn’t keeping Gabriel waiting.
When she went downstairs, he wasn’t there yet. His coat still hung on the rack by the door, so he hadn’t gone without her. She hovered in the entrance hall, waiting for him. A few minutes later, quiet footsteps came down the stairs behind her but when she turned, it was only Liam.
“Have you seen Gabriel?”
“Who’s Gabriel?”
“I mean Emmet.”
Liam reached the hall and made for the welcome table. This was a round, polished rosewood table with a large vase full of flowers. It also held two trays, one for letters that arrived for anyone in the house, the other for outgoing post. Pierre had named it the ‘welcome table’ because it was where everyone checked as soon as they came into the house.
“Why do you call him Gabriel?” Liam asked, rummaging in the in-tray.
“Long story; have you seen him?”
“No, sorry, but if I do, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.” He rifled through the other tray. “Have you seen anything for me? I’m expecting a package from my brother.”
“You have a brother?”
“Also, a long story. Are you going to the Plough Festival tonight?”
“How do you know about the Plough Festival?”
“Heard about it from someone. I went a couple of times. It’s great fun. Ask Cook to give you a flask of something warm otherwise you’ll drink too much cider and end up too drunk to walk home.”
Pierre went through to the kitchen and made a thermos flask of tea. She tried to pack herself a picnic basket but Cook told her not to bother because they’d have food there.
Back in the hallway, she stowed the flask in her satchel. Gabriel still wasn’t down. Pierre checked the time. She would have to leave now to make it to Laura’s studio for the silk and then to Margo’s Arch in time for sunset.
Where was he?
“Liam, would you tell Emmet that I’ve gone ahead, and he’d better go directly to Margo’s and wait for me there?”
“All right.”
Gabriel would remember how to get to the Arch; it was a straight path through the wood. On second thought, she turned back to the house. “You might have to give him directions.”
Liam was looking oddly at her, but Pierre didn’t have time to explain.
She made it to the Casemates in ten minutes. The old stone structure looked like an army fortification when she first saw it two years ago. But since it had been converted to a textile factory, it had become a hive of activity with theclack-clackof weaving looms and the sound of laughter and conversation from the women who worked there.
Laura’s workroom was all the way at the back. The half-made wedding dress hung on a mannequin which she was quickly covering with a clean length of muslin.
“I won’t look at the dress, I won’t look.” Pierre held a hand to shield her eyes.
