A Springtime Affair: An utterly gorgeous feel-good romance

Gilly had put on a brave mother’s smile while she waved off her daughter into the rainstorm but she was very worried. Watching your child get over heartbreak was, she knew, one of the hardest parts of being a parent, and she really hoped she didn’t have to do it for Helena and Jago. They were such a good couple, so well suited, and whatever his past, she was certain Jago was a good man.

She was delighted when William called. ‘Gilly? Are you very busy? Could you tunnel out for a visit somewhere?’

It was lovely to hear his voice and she particularly loved hearing him say her name. ‘I’m not that busy, as it happens, being midweek. What did you have in mind?’

‘I want you to come and see my house.’

Just for a moment Gilly had a nasty flashback of when Leo took her to see his house – the beautiful house he didn’t own. ‘Oh,’ she said.

William seemed to know she was having a wobble. ‘I just thought you ought to know where I lived. After all, we are a couple now, aren’t we?’

‘We definitely are.’ Gilly gave a little sigh of happiness. ‘When will we go?’

‘Tomorrow. I’d like to take you out to lunch first, nearby, and then show it to you. I’m planning to take the afternoon off.’

‘I do love an outing when a bit of bunking-off is involved,’ said Gilly. ‘Will you pick me up? Or shall I meet you somewhere. I’ve got to do some shopping so it would be no trouble.’

‘I’d prefer to pick you up, if you don’t mind, then it’s more like a date and less like an estate agent’s appointment.’

Gilly laughed and shortly afterwards they disconnected.

William lived in a nearby town that was famous for its antique shops. Fortunately it also had a fair number of very nice places to eat. He took her to a Italian wine bar that was also a delicatessen where he was greeted like an old friend.

‘William! Your table is free. I’ll bring the board over when you’re settled.’ The proprietor gave Gilly a bow that was respectful and curious at the same time.

‘Hello, Franco. This is my good friend Gilly.’

Gilly dipped her head nervously and smiled back; then she followed them to the table.

‘I’m not going to bother to ask if you come here often,’ she said when they were both seated.

He laughed. ‘It is my regular. I live very nearby.’

‘A town house?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can’t wait to see it.’

‘Could you imagine yourself living in a town, Gilly?’

Gilly thought about it. ‘This is a very nice town. Lovely shops, lovely places to eat—’ She guessed he was showing her his home before asking if she’d like to move in with him. It was terribly early days. While she was completely sure of William, she wasn’t sure she was ready to throw up her life to be with him. It made her very twitchy.

He laughed, aware she wasn’t answering his question.

‘What are you going to have to eat?’ she asked.

‘I usually have whatever Franco tells me is best. It saves me having to decide.’

‘I’m not good at decision-making either,’ said Gilly, ‘if it doesn’t particularly matter.’

‘But if it does matter?’

‘I’m usually OK on those.’

Franco came up. ‘So, what can I get you?’

‘What’s the special?’ asked William.

‘Asparagus with a little pasta,’ said Franco.

‘That sounds delicious,’ said Gilly.

‘We’ll have two of those then.’ He looked at Gilly. ‘A glass of wine?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Gilly. Wine would help.

‘A glass of wine for my friend, sparkling water for me,’ said William.

‘It’s the first asparagus I’ve had this year,’ said Gilly when they had been served. ‘And I’ve never thought of having it with pasta.’

‘I suppose it comes naturally to an Italian, to put pasta with things.’

It was completely delicious.

‘You are so lucky living near here!’ said Gilly enthusiastically. It was always a safe thing to say.

‘I am,’ said William, ‘but it has its downsides.’

‘Really?’

‘Not that near the gliding club, for example.’

‘Oh,’ said Gilly. ‘Have you been gliding lately?’ She tried to think if he’d had the opportunity to go gliding but, in spite of the wine and the lovely food, she was still a little on edge and couldn’t remember his schedule. ‘And could I go again?’

‘Of course! Any time! We must make a date for it.’ He smiled warmly at her. ‘I have to say, you are the first girlfriend I’ve had who has wanted to go gliding.’

‘Have you had a lot of girlfriends?’ Gilly felt this was an opportunity to find out about William’s past without appearing nosy.

‘A few since my wife died. None of them remotely serious.’ He put his hand on hers and looked into her eyes.

Before she could respond Franco came over. ‘Can I get you dessert? Coffee? Peppermint tea?’

William looked at his watch. ‘I think maybe we’d better have coffee at my house, if you don’t mind, Gilly?’

‘Not at all,’ said Gilly; she was keen to see it, and to find out if William had invited her here for more than just a look at the place where he lived. She turned to Franco. ‘But another time I’d love to try your desserts. That pasta was amazing.’

‘A woman who eats desserts,’ said Franco with a satisfied nod. ‘Excellent.’

William’s flat was just across the road. ‘I own the whole property but as you see, the bottom part is currently an antique shop.’ He opened the door and ushered Gilly in.

‘Ooh, what a lovely shop!’ said Gilly, although she realised the antiques were all very high-end and beyond what she would have permitted herself to spend.

‘Don’t get distracted,’ said William firmly. ‘Hello, Peter. We’re just going upstairs,’ he said to the proprietor.

As Gilly went up the steps ahead of William she wondered if the look Peter had given her had been as speculative as Franco’s. She was getting the impression that William bringing a woman home was unusual.

He unlocked the door. ‘There,’ he said. ‘Go in.’

Gilly was in a beautiful first-floor sitting room and found herself moving to the triple window that overlooked the street. The room was large and had a beautiful stone fireplace. It appeared to have been furnished from the shop down below.

‘Of course, it would be perfectly possible to take back the shop and incorporate it into the house,’ said William. ‘The kitchen is through here and rather small.’

It was small but very well fitted and perfectly big enough for one – or even two.

William opened another door. ‘Bedroom, en suite, dressing room, etc. There are two more rooms upstairs. There’s a bathroom there too. You can’t have guests coming down the stairs in the night, especially if they’re Aunt Daphne.’

Gilly laughed, pleased to think of Daphne being here. Personally she felt a bit overwhelmed.

‘Imagine a big kitchen downstairs, opening out on to the courtyard garden.’

‘I’m doing that. It’s huge!’

‘Yes, too huge for one person, which is why I’ve never done it.’

‘Have you had this house long?’

He nodded. ‘Yes. I bought it about twenty years ago – it was derelict. I had a small legacy that helped with the deposit. The rent for the shop covered the mortgage.’

‘You’re telling me very clearly that you own this house,’ she said. ‘Because …’

‘Because of what that scoundrel Leo did, implying he owned a house he rented.’

‘I love the word “scoundrel” – it’s so charmingly old-fashioned.’

‘I am charmingly old-fashioned,’ said William.

Gilly laughed. She was beginning to relax a bit. She wandered around this amazing flat and tried to picture herself in it.

She would like being near the shops. She’d love to be within walking distance of nice restaurants. But how would she cope without her B & B guests? She needed work – not just for money but because she believed work was good for people. She went into the kitchen which was at the back and looked down at the courtyard garden. She could see Ulysses there, possibly curled up on top of one of the stone sinks, crushing the succulents or auriculas or whatever was growing there.

‘So,’ said William, who had let her roam about and explore. ‘Could you live here?’

She sighed and bit her lip.

‘If I was to offer you my heart and my home, so to speak. I mean, if you took my home and didn’t want my heart I would have to find somewhere else to live.’

She managed a laugh.

‘And I’m thinking that we will have to decide if we want to live together or carry on as we are.’ He looked at her with a mixture of seriousness and gentle humour. ‘How do you feel about it? I know it’s awfully soon to think about these things but I feel I’ve wasted enough of my life hoping you’d have a problem with your VAT so you’d come and see me. I want you there every day. Greedy though it sounds.’

She considered her answer. It was a big step and very early days and yet somehow she felt ready to face it. ‘I do always feel sad when you go home in the morning.’

‘So do I.’

‘But although this is a really lovely house – flat – whatever – I’m not sure it’s quite for me. The thing is, could you live in my house? I mean, I feel I’m asking you to choose between an amazing, prize-winning racehorse and a big, clumsy old Clydesdale with feet the size of dinner plates, hairy fetlocks, a head the size of a small child, which, however well groomed and polished, will always be a bit of a lump.’

He laughed. ‘I love that analogy! And I do have to tell you that I’ve always been very fond of heavy horses – and old houses in the country.’

‘And of course you could bring any favourite pieces of furniture. I could get rid of some of my stuff. Pass it on to Helena, possibly.’

‘Not your son?’

‘No. Martin wouldn’t want it. He and his wife have quite a different style to mine.’

‘I’ll think about what my favourite bits of furniture are.’ He frowned slightly. ‘I can’t think of anything except the desk that was my father’s.’

‘You wouldn’t want to bring that beautiful fireplace? I’m sure I could find room for it!’

‘I think you’ll find it’s fairly firmly attached to this building.’

‘Oh, shame. I was hoping for an upgrade,’ said Gilly. Then she became serious. ‘But what about the B & B? How will you feel about having to share your home with strangers? It’s not for everyone. Sebastian, my ex-husband, was horrified at the thought and he didn’t have to do it. Martin thinks it’s awful.’

‘I don’t think it will worry me. We could have our own space, after all.’

‘And you don’t have to sell this house. You could rent it. Keep it in case …’ She paused, worrying if she was saying too much. ‘If things didn’t work out.’

‘You know what? I think things will work out.’ He paused in his turn. ‘Shall I tell you when I decided to stop looking for women who might become life partners and only had very casual girlfriends?’

‘If you like …’

‘It was when you became a client.’

‘Oh!’

‘You were in a dreadful state and I knew that I had to bide my time – and it might be a long time – before I could do anything about it, but I fell in love with you the first moment you came into my office.’

Gilly took advantage of the sofa that was just behind her and sat down rather quickly. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. I hope that doesn’t seem stalkerish to you?’

‘It is a bit – surprising.’ She imagined herself as she had been that day, red-nosed, swollen-eyed, unable to think clearly.

‘It surprised me too, I must say,’ said William cheerfully.

‘Well,’ Gilly said after a long pause. ‘I’m glad you decided to do something about it eventually.’

‘Me too. And we mustn’t forget Daphne’s input. Although I did rather resent her interference at the time.’

‘I think we should tell her we’re together,’ said Gilly. ‘Have her to dinner or something.’

‘Mm. I’ve had something a bit more ambitious in mind.’

Gilly felt she should stop being surprised by William, given that at one time she had thought he was just a really nice accountant, but it was difficult.

‘Which is?’

William came and sat beside her. ‘Remember my surprise party?’

‘It wasn’t long ago. Even I can remember that far back.’

He laughed. ‘Well, it wasn’t quite the party I’d have liked because Daphne had got an old address book and so missed out on people I would have loved to have there. So I thought if I gave another party – same venue probably; it was OK – you could invite your friends and family too and we could announce ourselves as a couple.’

‘Unusual,’ said Gilly.

‘Well, I’d prefer to be able to announce something a bit more conventional but I feel it’s too soon.’

Gilly felt she knew what he meant but wasn’t quite sure enough of herself to follow this up. ‘Well, to be honest, I’d much rather have it at my house. We could have a marquee in the garden. It would be lovely. And it would make sense of the whole thing if you’re going to move in with me.’

‘It would be an awful lot of work for you. Although of course we’d get a caterer.’

‘I’d like to do the puddings myself – the fun part of a party.’

He took her into his arms. ‘That would be amazing! How soon do we think we could do it?’

‘I don’t know …’

‘I’d like to do it as quickly as possible. Would a fortnight be too soon?’

‘Shall we see about the marquee and then decide?’ said Gilly. ‘I have a favourite firm I use.’

‘Excellent. Franco would do the catering if we asked him.’ He paused. ‘He’s been wondering out loud why I’m single for long enough.’

‘Maybe we should go back and tell him we’re “coupled up”.’

William kissed her again. ‘One of the reasons I love you – you’re so “down wid da kids”.’

Gilly found this thought so hilarious she had to have a drink of water to calm herself down.

Gilly was very happy when William dropped her off, particularly as he had promised to be back for supper. She walked around the house thinking about what furniture she could get rid of so William could have enough things to make the house seem partly his. He’d need space for his desk. Would under the window in the sitting room do or would he actually like a proper study? In which case the room Gilly currently used for flower arranging and as a general dumping ground could be cleared out and made very nice.

But in the meantime, if she moved Martin’s old desk, which wasn’t very special really, William’s desk would fit. She’d ask Martin if he wanted it although it wouldn’t really fit into his and Cressida’s minimal, modern decorative scheme.

Thinking about Martin made her realise she’d better let him and Cressida know about William and that she should do it face-to-face. She’d email him to invite them over. But the more she thought about telling him, the more nervous she became. She ought to phone but didn’t want to.

She didn’t escape talking to him. He rang right back as soon as he got her email. ‘What is this thing you want to tell us, Ma? Nothing silly, I hope.’

‘What do you mean? What could I be telling you that’s silly?’ She knew exactly what he meant though, and in his eyes, yes, it was silly.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But I think it would be better if you came here to tell us whatever it is.’

‘I was going to make the stew you like with the cheese scones.’

‘So, you wanted to butter me up with my favourite food.’

She didn’t bother to deny it. ‘I just thought you’d like it.’

‘Come to us. Tomorrow night? About seven. Cressida would never eat stew and scones.’