‘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 sisterof 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 ofA Midsummer Night’s Dream– I was Titania because I had the longest hair.’
