Milly repeated that she was going back to her parents’ house and Laughlin shared that he had no plans. I couldn’t fail to pick up on the tinge of sadness in their voices or see it in their wistful expressions as they presumably recalled happier times when they’d welcomed in the New Year with the partners they loved.
I was expected at Marianne’s after lunch on Christmas Day and imagined I’d stay until late afternoon or early evening, which meant I’d be on my own for most of the festive period. I’d grown used to it. Thinking of Christmas Day and New Year as being ‘normal’ days helped and, since Cliff died, I’d stopped putting in any effort to stay up past midnight on New Year’s Eve, making it easier to imagine it wasn’t a special evening.
Looking round at my friends, I couldn’t bear the thought of them all being alone, especially Laughlin for his first New Year without Noreen. The firsts were always the hardest. A few weeks back when Laughlin had mentioned his uncertainty about Christmas Day, we’d shared our experiences of the dreaded firsts without our spouses – first birthday, first anniversary, first Christmas – and how there was no clear way to navigate any of it. The only advice we could give him was not to let anyone pressure him into doing something he didn’t want to do because they thought it was time or that it would be good for him. The only person who knew what was best for Laughlin was Laughlin himself. Yes, firsts were the hardest, although I wasn’t convinced the seconds were much easier. Or the thirds…
I glanced at Milly as she stabbed a barbed needle into the needle felted penguin she was making. Her mouth was downcast, no sign of those dimples of hers, and I wondered whether she was taking out her frustration on the penguin for her useless husband who never seemed to put her first. I wanted to ease her pain, but how?Why don’t you all come round to mine?The sentence was clear in my head but I couldn’t get the words out and I knew why. It was too much, too soon. I’d only known them since September – sixteen two-hour meetings including this one. We’d never met outside of Cake & Craft Club so why would any of them want to see in the New Year with me? Besides, the most people I’d ever entertained at my house had been two – Betsy and Eric – and I wasn’t sure I’d know where to start with a group.
‘What are you working on, Yvonne?’ Laughlin asked a little later. ‘It looks a bit different to your last quilt.’
I loved how observant Laughlin was and how eager he was to learn. Paulette had told me that, before he got into pyrography, he hadn’t been the quickest at picking up new skills but he listened and watched carefully then persevered until he’d grasped it.
‘I’ve designed it myself rather than working from a template.’ I removed the photo of the jetty from a clear plastic wallet. ‘Recognise this?’
‘Is it the jetty near Willowdale Hall?’
‘That’s right.’ I pulled out the rough pattern I’d drawn and talked him through what I was trying to recreate with the fabrics. ‘I’ve no idea if it’ll work, but I want to give it a try.’
The others looked up and expressed admiration for my creativity as well as confidence that it would turn out beautifully. Paulette was unusually quiet as she studied the photo and pattern and I was sure there were tears glistening in her eyes, but I didn’t say anything in case she didn’t want attention drawing to her. I’d have a quiet word later if I had the chance.
* * *
At the end of the session, the five of us remained behind to tidy up, having wished the others a happy Christmas. Paulette went into the kitchen to start on the washing up, Veronica and Laughlin cleared the tables and chairs away and Milly helped me pack away what was left of my cake.
‘It didn’t just look incredible,’ Milly said as she held my bag open. ‘It tasted divine too.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You never mentioned what you’re doing at New Year.’
My stomach lurched. ‘Nothing much. I’m not really a New Year person.’
‘Me neither. I get a bit melancholy when I’m by myself. I was dreading spending it on my own again so it was a relief when my parents suggested I go back to theirs. I like to think I’m a positive person most of the time…’
Milly paused as though seeking my confirmation and I nodded vigorously, scarcely able to believe that somebody so bubbly and optimistic could doubt herself. ‘You definitely are.’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know what it is about the New Year but, if I’m on my own, it’s like all the positivity is sucked out of me and I focus on all the things I didn’t achieve in the past year, kicking myself about them, instead of reflecting on the good stuff. Do you ever feel like that?’
‘Sometimes.’ I gave her a gentle smile to show I understood, while wondering why I hadn’t given the honest answer –all of the time.
While Milly stacked the chairs, I placed my bag near the door with the rest of my belongings then joined Paulette in the kitchen.
‘Would you mind me asking you a personal question?’ I said as I picked up a tea towel. ‘You seemed to be affected by the photo I’m using for my quilt. Does that jetty mean something special to you?’
She smiled at me. ‘Well spotted. It’s where I met Hector – my first husband – when we were fourteen. I was sitting on the side of the jetty with a friend when these three lads ran past us, shouting. Next thing, the two bigger ones pushed the younger one into the lake and ran off laughing. He surfaced but it was obvious to me he was in trouble so I kicked off my shoes and jumped in to get him.’
‘You saved his life?’
She nodded. ‘It’s lucky I was there. His brothers should never have pushed him in when they knew he couldn’t swim.’
‘It was his brothers? What were they thinking?’
‘They’d decided that a survival instinct would kick in and Hector would learn to swim pretty fast when placed in danger. It beggars belief, doesn’t it? Anyway, that show of stupidity got them grounded for the rest of the summer but it brought Hector and me together. We often visited that jetty – our special place.He asked me to marry him there, it’s where I told him I was pregnant with Martha, David and Julia, and it’s where I scattered his ashes.’
‘Gosh, it reallyisspecial to you.’
Paulette nodded. ‘So many memories, Yvonne, and if there’s anyone who can do justice to that beautiful place in quilt form, it’s you. I can’t wait to see how it turns out.’
I didn’t want to make any promises in case I couldn’t pull off my vision but, if it did work, I’d be gifting the quilt to Paulette. I’d never made one as a gift before and the thought of it gave me a buzz of excitement. I’d try to hang onto that instead of thinking about the difficult festive period ahead.
