A Springtime Affair: An utterly gorgeous feel-good romance

She brought flowers from her garden, already in her jam jar so Cressida wouldn’t have to worry about finding a vase (she might not even have a vase), some cheese straws (Martin loved anything cheesy) and a book for Ismene. She also got out a bottle of wine from the cellar which she thought looked OK although she couldn’t remember much about it. She’d bought it after a long and persuasive phone call from a famous wine merchant some time ago. Now she really hoped it was nice. On Martin and Cressida’s doorstep, waiting for the bell to be answered, she wished she’d brought two bottles.

‘Mum! Hi!’ said Martin. He hugged her briefly. He made Gilly feel wary.

‘Hello, darling. How lovely to see you! Is everyone well? It seems ages.’

‘Well, come in. Oh, thank you for this,’ he said, taking the bottle and leaving Gilly with her arms still fairly full.

Cressida, looking very well groomed and thin, was perched on the edge of the sofa, her knees clamped together. She had very tense legs, Gilly felt, and now, when she got up, every sinew of them was visible. ‘Gilly! You brought flowers, how lovely!’

‘Yes,’ said Gilly, handing them over. ‘They just need some water. You don’t need to rush around trying to find a vase for them.’

‘Very thoughtful,’ said her daughter-in-law, although Gilly suspected she was the sort of person who thought flowers in jam jars was a bit ‘shabby chic’ and not her style.

‘And where’s my lovely granddaughter?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got a book for her that she might like.’

‘She’s staying with a friend. We felt we could relax more if she wasn’t here.’

‘Oh. Well, let me know if she likes the book. I could get more by that author.’

‘Very kind. She loves reading, as you know.’

‘She’s a credit to you,’ said Gilly, wishing her granddaughter were there in person. A little light relief would have been very welcome. And she loved Issi.

Martin handed her a glass. ‘Sherry, Mum?’ he asked.

She took the glass. She did like sherry but the Tio Pepe Martin served was very dry and she yearned to tell him she liked something a bit sweeter. A nice amontillado was much more her thing.

‘So,’ she said, having taken a sip. ‘Shall we get what I have to tell you over? Tell you now?’

‘No!’ said Martin urgently. ‘Not yet!’

‘It’s no big deal really,’ said Gilly. ‘It’s only that—’

‘Stop!’ said Martin, holding up a commanding hand. ‘Dad’s coming.’

‘What!’ Gilly stopped trying to be well-mannered and restrained. ‘Why? What did you invite him for?’

‘I thought if you were going to be telling us something potentially serious he should be here,’ said Martin.

Gilly took a breath, forcing herself to remember that Martin was away for most of the acrimonious divorce proceedings and she’d made a point of not telling her children quite how awful their father was. Helena knew a lot more, of course. It had been harder to hide it from her.

‘What I have to tell you, Martin, is absolutely nothing to do with your father!’

‘Well, it must be something important or you wouldn’t be making such a big deal of it,’ said Martin.

Gilly drained her sherry glass. This was going very badly. Martin was so hostile. Maybe she should just say that she wanted to get rid of his desk but not say why? But then it would look dreadful if the next time Martin and his family came over William literally had his feet under the table. And there was the party. She’d have to invite Martin and Cressida to that.

She took a breath. ‘Well, there are two things. The first is, I don’t want to sell my house but I do want to get rid of some bits of furniture. I wanted to see if you wanted them.’

There was a short, tense silence. Martin pursed his lips. Then he said haughtily, ‘Well, it’s a shame you don’t want to help out your family, but I accept your decision. And the second thing? It can’t only be that or you wouldn’t be here.’

If Martin hadn’t been such a serious person she’d have said, ‘You’ve got me bang to rights.’ As it was she made a non-committal little sound.

The doorbell jangled and Gilly had time to wonder if it was the most irritating one she had ever heard. Then she heard her ex-husband’s deep, loud voice. ‘She’s still got that sardine can of a car, I see,’ he said. As he was still in the hall it was possible he didn’t intend Gilly to hear him, but it was unlikely.

‘Hello, Sebastian,’ said Gilly.

‘Hello, Gilly,’ he said and bent to kiss her cheek.

The smell of his aftershave made her shudder. ‘It’s been a while,’ she said.

‘Well, you know why. I would have been more than happy to keep things amicable but you couldn’t seem to do that.’

It occurred to Gilly that he’d got married in the first place so he’d have someone constantly on hand to blame things on. Nothing was ever his fault, it was always hers, however unreasonable he’d been.

‘Shall we go through?’ said Cressida, who seemed nervous. ‘It’s all ready.’

Although she knew Cressida would be perfectly prepared Gilly leaped to her feet. ‘Let me give you a hand!’ She followed Cressida through to the kitchen.

‘I’m so sorry, Gilly,’ said Cressida immediately. ‘It was not my idea to invite Sebastian. I’ve always thought there was another side to why your marriage broke down.’

‘There was, but I never wanted my children to see quite how bad things were. It was harder to keep it from Helena, who was still at home, though.’

Cressida nodded.

Gilly spotted an open bottle of wine. ‘Do you mind if I have some of that? I’m going to need help if I’m going to get through this.’

‘Of course,’ said Cressida. ‘You can always get a cab home.’

Gilly smiled faintly. While Cressida’s back was turned she sent William a little text asking how he was. Making contact with him gave her courage.

Back in the dining room, sitting round the glass table which made you cold if you leaned on it, Cressida served out salmon and steamed vegetables. Everyone was given two little new potatoes. Martin put an inch of wine into each wine glass. The wine didn’t have room to breathe, it had room to hyperventilate and faint, Gilly felt, very grateful for the extra half-glass she’d gulped down in the kitchen. She was still trembling with indignation that Martin had invited Sebastian without telling her.

Three forkfuls in, Martin said, ‘So what’s the big announcement, Mum? Apart from the fact that you don’t want to sell your house?’

With everyone looking at her, Gilly, just for a moment, was tempted to declare she had a terminal illness, just to see their faces. And in fact this thought gave her courage. Think how much worse the whole revelation could have been!

‘OK, well, it’s quite simple. William, my boyfriend, is moving in with me. We’ll have to get rid of some furniture and I wondered if you wanted your old desk, Martin.’ She knew she’d been lucky to get such a long sentence out without being interrupted. During their marriage, even when she wasn’t delivering life-changing news, Sebastian had found it very hard to let her say more than about five words at a time.

‘What!’ shouted Sebastian, spitting a little.

‘Mum! William is your f— freakin’ accountant!’ said Martin.

‘Gilly!’ said Cressida, who had been an ally for such a brief time. ‘What about Leo?’

‘Leo and I were not destined to be a couple,’ said Gilly, deciding not to tell Cressida that Leo was a lying fantasist with strong leanings towards embezzlement.

‘You’re going to let your miserable accountant move in with you?’ demanded Sebastian, leaning towards her in the intimidating way he had used so often in their marriage. ‘Well, let me tell you, that’s not going to happen!’

‘It’s nothing to do with you, Sebastian.’ Gilly reached out for the bottle and topped up her glass.

‘Really, Mum! How can you even think of moving another man into our home!’

‘I raised my children in that house – the one you insisted on keeping although I was entitled to half!’ said Sebastian.

‘But you didn’t raise your children in it, I did; and I did keep it. It’s mine, and if I want William to share it with me, it’s my decision. Cressida, dear, is there more wine somewhere?’

‘Getting drunk won’t help!’ said Martin.

‘Usually, I’d agree with you,’ said Gilly, her head never clearer. ‘But right now, I think wine is the only answer!’

‘So tell us about this William, then?’ asked Sebastian.

‘He’s an accountant,’ said Martin as if that were sufficient to damn him.

‘His hobby is gliding,’ said Gilly.

Sebastian laughed. ‘Well, you won’t be able to join in with that, will you?’

‘Oh yes I will,’ said Gilly quietly. ‘I like gliding.’ The way she said it gave the impression she’d done it more than once, but as she fully intended to go often, it wasn’t really a lie.

‘What?’ said everyone, more or less at the same time. The general disbelief was at once patronising and rather satisfying.

‘It’s amazing up there. We live in such a good area for it, the scenery is so beautiful.’

‘But you won’t even fly in a small plane!’ said Sebastian.

‘A lot of things have changed since you knew me,’ she said. ‘I’m not the woman you left crying in a heap.’ She picked up her glass. It was empty. Cressida leaned across and topped it up.

‘You can’t do this, you know, I won’t permit it,’ said Sebastian.

A memory of fear touched Gilly like a ghost. He’d been a bully and frightened her. The expression ‘coercive control’ hadn’t been in use at the time but that was exactly what she had suffered throughout her marriage. She would give in to keep the peace, until she stopped giving in and that was when he began to get really threatening.

‘You have no power to stop me doing anything,’ said Gilly. ‘You bullied me all through our marriage and I put up with it for the sake of our children. But they’re grown up now and your influence over me is finished! I have met a man who makes me happy, who loves me and who is kind. We are going to live together and there’s not a thing you can do about it.’

‘Oh, really? I think you’ll find I can do a lot—’

She gave him a look which she hoped made him feel like dirt under her shoe. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me,’ she said, picking up her handbag. ‘I’ll just pop to the loo.’

Once she was in the hall, Gilly opened the front door and let herself out.

She walked down the drive and past her car. She knew she wasn’t fit to drive although she still felt very clear-headed. When she was out on the road she found her phone. She sent Cressida a quick text thanking her and explaining she had to leave unexpectedly. Then she went to ‘Favourites’ and called a taxi. Because she was a good customer they said they’d come immediately.

However, she knew it would take them a good fifteen minutes to reach her and she began to feel anxious in case anyone came out of the house to look for her. She walked along the road and round a bend so she would be out of sight.

While she was walking, adrenalin making her heart race, Gilly’s mind focused on the failure of their marriage. In Sebastian’s opinion, men were the ones to be adored, to be pandered to, appeased, obeyed. Gilly blamed his mother for making him believe this. She’d been a strong woman who never pandered to anyone, but she’d never liked Gilly, never thought she was good enough for her son. Gilly had been perversely pleased that they’d stayed married until after Sebastian’s mother had died, not giving her the chance to say, ‘I told you so.’

Martin shared some of his father’s faults although Cressida would never be bullied, and back there she had been a little bit on Gilly’s side. Although Gilly realised now she and Martin had set her up with Leo, to try to get him to persuade her to sell her house. However, she doubted if they’d intended that Leo should ask her to marry him in the bizarre way he had.

She realised these thoughts weren’t calming and tried to focus on something else, but at that moment there was nothing else. She tried some deep breathing and that did help.

Then she heard what she’d been dreading: slamming car doors and raised voices. She stepped behind a tree, hoping she was hidden, and heard a car drive away at speed, shooting past the tree where she was sheltering. Sebastian always set off before he thought where he was going, before he’d done up his seatbelt, and, latterly, before he’d put on his glasses. Now, he’d have been better off looking for her on foot, but that wasn’t his way. Thank goodness.

Although she was anxious lest the cab would arrive and the driver not be able to find her, she stayed where she was. It was possible that Martin would also go in search of his mother.

There was the sound of a second car but as far as she could tell it was going in the opposite direction. So Sebastian and Martin had both gone off in their fast cars, looking for a woman who wasn’t exactly a speed-walker.

There was a little park not far away from Martin and Cressida’s house. Gilly had spent a lot of time in it years ago when Ismene was a toddler.

Martin would know about this park but Sebastian wouldn’t. She made her way to it. If Martin found her it would be OK. Just as long as Sebastian didn’t. The thought of being alone with him in a lonely place in the evening was not pleasant. She wished Helena wasn’t so far away, somewhere in the hills above the Wye Valley.

She had time to wish she’d been wearing her Fitbit and that she hadn’t fallen on the wine in quite such a desperate way before she had a text from her cab driver asking where she was. She told him about the park and within a very few minutes he was there and she was being driven back to Fairacres at speed. She wondered when her heart would catch up with her brain and stop beating so fast.

As the cab approached the Fairacres drive, Gilly saw William’s car parked in front of the house and then William himself, waiting by the front door. She thrust a couple of notes into the cab driver’s hands, ignoring his protest that it was too much money, and got out of the cab and ran towards him and into his arms. ‘Oh, William! How lovely to see you! What are you doing here?’

‘Your weird text told me something was wrong. I didn’t know where your son lives so I came here. What’s up?’ He held her and stroked her back and her hair, murmuring words of comfort.

‘Let’s go in the house and I’ll tell you.’

Now she was safe Gilly felt as if she’d panicked and knew that if she hadn’t had too much wine she wouldn’t have been so impetuous. But Sebastian could be frightening and Martin could be dominating.

‘Well, it was my fault really. I had too much to drink.’

‘Why do women always blame themselves for things? Or have you been conditioned to do that?’

William wasn’t usually so blunt but it made her think. She headed towards the kitchen and he followed her. They sat opposite each other at the kitchen table.

‘I probably have been conditioned to do that. Everything was my fault in my marriage, from the roof leaking to the weather being bad to the fact I had a difficult relationship with my mother-in-law. Although she was a very strong character, my ex, Sebastian, blamed the problems we had entirely on me.’

‘So why did you feel the need to drink too much? Although you don’t seem remotely drunk.’

‘I’m not drunk but I’ve probably had too much to be legal to drive. And I did it because Martin sprung Sebastian on me. I panicked. He and Martin together can be very overbearing.’

‘You haven’t told me much about your marriage. When you were getting divorced you were always so careful to keep it as businesslike as you could. Although his attempts to get his hands on your house must have been devastating.’

From habit, she got up to put the kettle on. ‘It was. Fairacres had been my parents’ house, as you know. Sebastian never contributed much to it financially and yet he made it so I had to pay him off by selling the orchard and that bit that went for a building plot.’ She paused and smiled as she sat down again. ‘I should have let it go by now and really, I have, but seeing him tonight and him being so awful about—’ She stopped.

‘About what? Let me guess, the thought of another man going to live in what had been his home?’

‘Yes, basically. He and Martin were very territorial. I suppose it’s different for Martin but Sebastian has no right to be like that at all.’

‘Has he married again?’

‘He did, for a short while, but it didn’t last.’

‘Oh well, we won’t invite him to our party then.’

She laughed.

William picked up a pepper grinder that was on the table between them. ‘You haven’t changed your mind? Martin being unhappy about it hasn’t made you feel you’d rather I didn’t move in?’

‘If I worried about what made Martin happy I’d never redecorate! Or if I did, I’d have to keep the same colours. He’s always had a rather rosy view of what his father was like. But I’m sure he’ll come round.’

‘And if he doesn’t?’

‘Well, we’ll still have the party! And you’ll still come and live with me. And I’ll still move his old desk to make room for yours.’

‘But you’d be unhappy about it.’ It was a statement, not a question.

‘Well, of course I’d prefer it if he gave us his blessing but if he doesn’t then maybe I have to live with that.’ She paused. The kettle was boiling. ‘Do you actually want a hot drink of any kind?’

‘Not really,’ he said, getting up and going round to her side of the table. ‘I think we both need an early night.’

She smiled and put her arm round his waist as they went upstairs.