‘Which means?’
‘Whoever has time and thinks of it, does it.’ She paused. ‘It seems to work OK, doesn’t it?’
She looked at him, wondering how he felt about her, whether he felt anything beyond friendship. They – well, he – had come up with the idea of pretending to be an item because it suited them but supposing one of them, i.e. her, wanted to change? To stop pretending? Because she did want them to be a real couple, who touched, who slept together.
Annoyingly they hadn’t added a clause to their casual arrangement which told them how to deal with this situation. Supposing now, her inhibitions softened by wine and tiredness, she reached her hand across the table and put it on his large, roughened, very slightly hairy one? Would he get her unspoken message? And if he did would he look slightly horrified and embarrassed? Say, ‘You’re a lovely girl but I’ve never seen you like that?’ Or something similar.
Helena decided she would die of embarrassment if this happened and took another sip of wine.
‘I think you need another one of those,’ said Jago. ‘And here comes the food. Those chips look amazing! Can we have some mayo to go with those?’ he asked the waitress. ‘Thank you so much!’
The food was as good as it looked and Helena crunched her way through it, too tired to talk much. That was one of the many joys of Jago: he was perfectly happy to be silent. When she’d finished her steak she felt a lot better.
‘Now, pudding,’ she said. ‘I’m paying and I’m insisting. I won’t feel I’ve taken you out for dinner if you only have one course and no alcohol.’
‘Oh, right! I’ll hop up and get the menu.’ Having done this he perused it. ‘I think steam pudding with custard, cream and ice cream.’
‘I’ll join you!’ said Helena, feeling bold and a bit anxious. ‘I sort of wish Cressida was here.’
‘Really?’
‘She’d be so utterly horrified! And although I know it’s childish of me, I do quite like horrifying her.’
He laughed. ‘I know what you mean. I can’t resist shocking my sister either.’
‘Oh? How’s Zuleika and her kitten?’
‘The kitten is growing rapidly and is hardly ever out of trouble, apparently. My sister is going to keep her.’
Helena smiled. She had reason to be very grateful to that kitten. Without it her first meeting with Jago would have been very different.
‘So,’ Jago said, after several spoonfuls of pudding, which included fresh raspberries and was very much lighter than its title suggested it might be. ‘What are you going to do with yourself now this show is over? You’ve worked so hard!’
Helena gave a laugh that was almost a sigh of exhaustion. ‘I’m going to work even harder! I’ve sold every blessed scarf, rug, throw and cushion cover, lots of it destined for the big World of Wool show at the end of the month. It’s going to be pretty much impossible to restock in time.’
‘Oh, Helly!’ said Jago, putting his hand on her shoulder. ‘I didn’t realise.’
‘Mum suggested that she give me back everything I’d ever given her which is something. I’ll ask Cressida for her stuff too, but it’s not going to be that much.’
‘Can I make a suggestion? I’m not any kind of an artist or creative person but could you do something weird, huge, that wouldn’t take you long? Weaving with rags, that sort of thing?’
‘I’m not a massive fan of rag weaving but I could think along those lines, cutting up blankets and using them.’ Her imagination was sparked. ‘I’ve got some blankets that got terribly eaten by moths. I should have thrown them away but I put them in Mum’s freezer instead. I could use those!’
Jago smiled, clearly pleased to have had the original idea.
‘After all,’ Helena went on, ‘although obviously they’d have to be up to standard, I wouldn’t have to love them. As long as I had, say, three … wall hangings perhaps?’
‘With “found objects” woven into them?’
‘If I was desperate,’ said Helena. ‘I have always insisted on things being functional.’
‘Wall hangings are functional if they’re hiding an unsightly wall,’ said Jago. He paused. ‘Are you going to finish your pudding?’
‘Not if I can avoid it. I feel a bit sick. Please …’ She pushed her bowl towards him. ‘Go for it!’
She gave a massive yawn as he put down his spoon. ‘Come on, let’s get you home,’ he said. ‘You’re dead on your feet.’
‘Dead in my chair,’ she corrected him but smiled. Even if they were just friends it was lovely to bewith someone who looked out for her. ‘I’ll just go and pay the bill.’
