‘Many times.’
Gilly wished Leo hadn’t been so keen to come to her early and help. She found it slightly difficult to talk to people and cook – unless it was breakfast when she was so practised. But his enthusiasm for her company was flattering. He obviously wanted the lunch to go well as much as she did. Now, shewas whisking her gravy, wondering if there was enough and, as always, deciding there wasn’t.
‘There’s always a point with gravy,’ she said to Leo, who was pulling corks out of the bottles of wine that he’d brought, ‘when it tastes perfect, but wouldn’t give people more than a teaspoon each. You have to steel yourself to possibly ruin it when you add things to make it enough.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better to have a teaspoon of perfect gravy than a lot of substandard stuff?’
Gilly was horrified. ‘My gravy is never substandard and not enough gravy is the most depressing thing. I’m going to get out my “Mother’s little helpers”.’
‘Which are?’
‘Soy sauce, Madeira, Bisto, they all have their place.’ She really wanted him out of her kitchen. ‘Leo, I know I don’t know you very well, but do I know you well enough to ask you to set the table? Everything you need should be in the sideboard in the dining room?’
‘Of course, anything I can do to help.’
Gilly turned on her fan oven. Most of the meal was being cooked by her large range but she wanted control for her Yorkshire puddings. She was always a bit nervous about them but with Cressida coming, she really wanted them to be right. Although it should have been Leo she was keen to impress she trusted him not to be critical about them. The beef was superb, resting under layers of tea towels. Thepotatoes were perfect, the roasted carrots buttery and sweet. The broccoli and were all ready to steam. All she needed now was a couple of trays of nicely risen Yorkshire puddings. Ismene, her only grandchild, loved Yorkshire puddings. She wanted them right for her especially.
While she sorted through the cutlery fresh from the dishwasher – Leo would find a lot of things missing in the sideboard drawers – she thought about the enormous bundle of narcissi Leo had brought. They were so perfect. Much nicer than lilies or something more exotic and there were so many of them! She never liked flowers out of season and he obviously felt the same. It was all going so well. They’d been out for dinner the previous evening and it had made her so fluttery and excited.
‘Shall we introduce ourselves?’ suggested Leo as everyone arrived at once.
‘Good idea,’ said the tall man who’d arrived with Helena.
At first sight, Gilly liked him. He was relaxed and easy, not particularly smartly dressed – unlike Leo who was wearing an immaculate suit and silk tie – but he was friendly and managed to make conversation with Martin, which could be difficult.
‘I can’t believe you drink sherry,’ said Cressida, who was nursing fizzy water with a sprig of thyme in it. ‘It’s an older person’s drink.’
‘I like sherry,’ said Helena, sounding defiant. ‘And I think it’s coming back into fashion.’
‘Who cares about fashion?’ said Jago. ‘You either like something or you don’t.’
‘So that’s why you’re wearing clothes out of the eighties?’ Cressida asked, but in a way that didn’t quite qualify as being rude.
Jago gave her a very charming smile. ‘That’s it exactly.’
‘Oh, look! Here’s Uly!’ said Ismene, leaving her mother’s side and going towards the cat.
‘Don’t touch him!’ said her mother sharply. ‘You’ll get covered with hairs.’
Gilly noticed that Leo had stepped away from the cat as well but cat hairs would be hard to get off those elegant trousers. She clapped her hands and Ulysses, taking offence, stalked out of the room.
‘Maybe you could top up everyone’s glasses for me, Leo?’ said Gilly into the silence. ‘I’ve just got to put the green veg on.’
As she hurried back to the kitchen, wishing she could stay there, Gilly hoped that the cat would stay out of the way and that Jago and Cressida wouldn’t get touchy with each other. Helena was being a bit odd although she was saying all the right things. Probably hungry, she thought. She’d have gone without breakfast to save herself for a big lunch. As a child she was always grumpy if her blood sugar level dipped.
Gilly came back into the drawing room and sensed that two glasses of sherry hadn’t been enough to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Let’s go and eat,’ she said. The veg should be cooked by the time everyone had sat down. Overcooked, possibly.
‘Would you like me to carve?’ suggested Leo instantly.
‘Thank you!’ said Gilly. She really preferred to carve herself but with everything else that needed to be organised, letting him do it freed her up for other things.
Helena followed her mother into the kitchen. ‘Terrific Yorkshires,’ she said admiringly, taking the dish from Gilly so she could take them through. ‘Well done, Mum!’
‘I did them in the fan oven,’ said Gilly. ‘But I’m relieved they turned out so well.’
‘Wanting to impress the new boyfriend, then?’ Helena said this in a joking way but something about her worried her mother. She was being perfectly polite but she didn’t have her usual sparkle.
‘Well, you know me. I like things to be perfect.’ Gilly paused, shifting her grasp on the potatoes. ‘Everything OK with you?’
