Page 85 of Second Chances at the Board Game Café

Taylor began to relax. The dungarees were a perfect fit for the model, and she could see people looking admiringly at her as she walked down the catwalk. Her clothes, her creations! On a catwalk! She felt like she’d accidentally stumbled into a dream, a dream where something she’d spent practically her entire life longing for was actually happening. The whole thing felt surreal.

The graffiti jeans appeared, the denim jacket with its toucan buttons and jungle print pocket, and the child’s denim jacket with the ladybird pockets, along with several garments by some of the attendees of the upcycling class – jeans transformed with patches and hand embroidery in the sashiko-style popular in Japan, another denim jacket with a tartan collar and pockets, and a denim skirt with enormous patchwork poppies.

The song changed again. ‘Cardigan’ this time, by Taylor Swift, heralding the knitwear part of the show. Someone – Kate, Taylor presumed – had clearly given some thought to the choice of songs. Jumpers, upcycled hats and a dress made entirely of scarves all made their way down the catwalk, along with Taylor’s striped cashmere cardigan with giant felt flowers.

They were coming to the end of the show when ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ by the Monkees began to blare from the speaker. Taylor could guess which garments were about to appear next. She shuffled nervously in her chair, wondering how Max was feeling as he waited behind the curtain.

‘And now we come to some special items,’ Kate announced, ‘made for us again by our very own Taylor and modelled by her son, Max, who is accompanied by Harry.’ She paused, looking at the curtain, waiting for Harry and Max to appear.

Taylor wondered if stage fright had got the better of one of them, and if so, who, but then the curtains suddenly twitched and Max practically leaped onto the stage, with Harry standing a little behind.

They were both wearing the train waistcoats and bow ties, but whilst Harry had paired his with jeans, Max was wearing the red petticoat.

*

As the music died down, the curtains opened, revealing all of the models wearing their outfits, standing in a line like actors taking a curtain call. The audience clapped. There were cheers and a few people got to their feet.

Kate waited until the applause had died down before she spoke. ‘Now we’re auctioning selected garments this evening. The money raised will be split between the hospice shop here in Hebbleswick, and the Oxfam shop in Essendale. But first, there are a couple of people I’d like to thank. All the models for showing off our creations so beautifully. All the people who’ve given up their evenings to upcycle these wonderful garments for us. And the lovely Jo, who very kindly did all the organising for this fantastic event. Give it up, ladies and gentlemen for Jo.’

The line of models parted in the middle and Jo walked to the front of the stage and took a little bow. Taylor couldn’t believe her eyes: the school manager was wearing the Scrabble dress. She glanced at Emily, but there wasn’t the slightest hint of surprise on her face; she obviously already knew that the dress now belonged to Jo.

When the applause had subsided, Kate took to the mic again. ‘Now all this wouldn’t have been possible without one person and I’m sure you’ve all guessed who that is. Taylor Sweet. It was Taylor who brought upcycling to this wonderful valley of ours. Taylor who has given up hours of her time to guide all our lovely volunteers with their sewing projects. And Taylor who has made many of the garments that you’ve seen this evening. She’s done that alongside running her sewing business, Taylor-Made Designs. She does repairs and alterations too – a swift service guaranteed…’

There was a collective groan from the audience.

‘She makes curtains and bespoke garments too, and has her own brand-new shop on Etsy selling sustainable fashion. Taylor, come up and take a bow.’

Taylor stood up, but wasn’t sure quite how she was supposed to get onto the stage. She couldn’t get to the steps on either side, without fighting her way through the audience. The temporary staging that had been used to create the catwalk was a little high. She could probably scramble up, but it wouldn’t look elegant, and there were all these people watching.

She was debating what to do when there was a sudden hissing sound and mist began to fill the place.

‘Sorry, about this everyone,’ said Kate. ‘The dry ice machine stopped working just before the show started, but it suddenly seems to have decided to start again.’

Taylor wasn’t sure what to do now. The air in the hall was becoming foggier and foggier. A few people were coughing. She looked towards Kate for guidance, but it was now so cloudy that she couldn’t see as far as the stage. It was like the thick pea-soupers you sometimes got on the top of the moors.

‘Sorry about this,’ came Kate’s voice over the speakers again. ‘I’m told it’ll clear in a minute. Could someone open the doors at the back and perhaps the windows too?’

And then a hand reached down from the catwalk through the mist towards Taylor. She took it, and allowed herself to be pulled up onto the staging. As the mist began to clear a little, and she saw that the hand belonged to Harry, Taylor was reminded of one of the final scenes in The Railway Children, her favourite scene, when Bobbie was standing on the platform, after the steam train had arrived. The steam cleared, revealing Bobbie’s father, now released from prison.

‘Harry, my Harry,’ Taylor said, echoing Bobbie’s words from the film.

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‘Harry, my Harry,’ she said.

‘Taylor.’

Harry didn’t quite have the courage to say, ‘Taylor, my Taylor,’ as he wanted to. Instead, he said what he’d wanted to say to her when he first learned her name in the board game café. ‘It’s such an appropriate name, given what you do for a living.’

She beamed at him. Encouraged by this, he added, ‘You know, the BBC had a weather presenter named Sara Blizzard, and the music teacher at my secondary school was called Fiona Sharp. Miss F Sharp! Can you believe…’

In his nervousness, he was rambling – he knew that – but Taylor’s arms were suddenly round his neck and she was hugging him again, so he stopped talking and allowed himself to enjoy the moment, even though that awful dry ice stuff was clearing away, and the entire school hall could see them. Normally he’d be embarrassed at such a public display of affection, but for some reason he wasn’t; he just felt intensely proud.

Proud to be friends with this beautiful woman, whose exceptional sewing skills and brilliant imagination had transformed a pile of old clothes into some very special garments indeed.

‘Come and take a bow, Taylor,’ Kate’s voice boomed over the PA system and Harry suddenly remembered the reason why he’d helped her up onto the catwalk in the first place. He reluctantly relinquished her, but to his surprise, she took his hand again. They walked up the catwalk together and onto the stage.

Max came over, still wearing his red petticoat, and wrapped his arms around his mother.