Work had begun on ‘Imogen’s Interiors’ almost as soon as the sign had gone up. Imogen didn’t move into the flat straight away, apparently choosing to stay where she was while all the dirty work was being done. The builders gutted the place, leaving only the beautiful frontage though it couldn’t be seen behind the hoarding that covered the face of the building.
Nothing had been done since the water had subsided and they had industrial heaters in there drying the place out before they could actually begin construction of any kind. Everything was being accessed by way of the service road that ran behind and Holly found herself blocked in by a builder’s van on more than one occasion. She chose not let it get to her. It wasn’t Imogen’s fault and it was better than work vehicles being parked in the high street. In any case it was rare for her to use the car and she only had to ask them to move once.
Imogen popped into Art-e-Mis at least a couple of times a week and she and Holly sat in the studio having coffee if there were no customers in the gallery.
‘I don’t want to be on their backs all the time but I also don’t want them to do anything wrong that might be difficult to change later. It should all be okay. They’re working from architect’s plans.’
Holly realised that the conversion of ‘Imogen’s Interiors’ was a far bigger and costlier undertaking than her own had been. Her place was a true rectangle, which had only required painting and filling. It had been up to her to put into it the character that was prevalent in the rest of the cottage. Imogen, or her parents, were paying big bucks. They were also very sensibly putting in flood defences.
‘Will it take long for them to finish?’
‘Quite some time but I don’t want to rush them. I want it to be perfect. The flat will be easy. It’ll need a new bathroom. In fact, I think I’d prefer a wet room. And the kitchen will need refitting. Otherwise it’s just decorating. I suppose that’s not surprising when a man for has lived in it so long. How is Gordon, do you know?’ Imogen, though not as much an integral part of the group as Holly had become, was well aware of what had been happening. She’d been around more than once when they’d all been talking about him.
‘No, we haven’t quite decided what to do yet. Who should go, or not. Phoebe’s determined to go and see him herself but the guys are thinking it’s a long way for her to drive there and back in a day, particularly as she’s pregnant. Gordon may not want her to stay overnight although I guess she could book in somewhere if she wants to. But in any case it wouldn’t be fair to go unannounced and he must have changed his mobile number because the old one’s unobtainable. I think she’ll probably write to him first; may have done so already.’
‘Poor guy.’
‘Anyway, tell me about the shop. Have you worked in your parents’ place before or is it all new to you?’
‘Been crawling around furniture since I was a baby. Between you and me, Holly, I absolutely love the old stuff. Take this table for instance. Beautiful. But some modern things are beautiful too and I’m hoping that my customers will give me the opportunity to design their interiors for them. What’s the point of having the qualification if I can’t use it?’
Holly was learning an awful lot about Imogen, not the least of which was a level of enthusiasm and excitement that matched what her own had been when she was setting up in business. It seemed she’d found another kindred spirit – now that the problem of Adam was out of the way. Holly was beginning to acknowledge to herself what everyone else already seemed to know.
***
Holly didn’t know what Gordon had replied to Phoebe’s note. All she knew was that she now had a contact number for him and was going to see him at the weekend. In the end it was Adam who drove her there. It was to be on the Sunday and the surgery wasn’t open. There was an emergency number if anyone needed a vet in a hurry. Holly questioned him at the first opportunity.
‘How did it go? How was he?’
‘A broken man, Holly. He greeted us as if we were his lifeline.’
‘And that trouble between you?’
‘All behind us. If Phoebe can put it aside then so can I. It made a difference, you know. Our visit. It was as if we’d given him hope. He didn’t expand on the treatment he’s having and I didn’t ask. He seems pretty determined though to conquer his demons.’
‘And the hearing?’
‘He still doesn’t have a date. That’s the worst thing, I think. He wants to pay his dues and do his time and it’s as if he’s in limbo. Until that’s over he can’t make the new start he so desperately wants to. I’m sure he’ll be better now we’ve been to see him. You know what Phoebe’s like. She’d fill anyone with confidence; not that he is confident but you know what I mean.’
‘I hope you’re right. Maybe Gordon isn’t lost to us after all.’
***
There was a lot going on in Cuffingham during the next few weeks. Holly was invited back to school to craft something with the children as Easter was fast approaching and this time Holly decided she’d use the bunny as her theme. Emma would soon be giving up work. Phoebe’s bump was showing and Emma was amazingly slim everywhere except where her tummy declared her prospective motherhood. Louise would soon be moving on to solids and had remained, as she had begun, the perfect baby, adored by everyone.
The dynamics of the group had changed considerably, what with Steve and Phoebe being together and Gordon not being there any more. Imogen spent more time with them than previously as she spent long hours overseeing her project. The downstairs work was completed in record time, due in no small part to her on-site presence, and Imogen decided to move into the flat above even before it was reconfigured.
‘After all, Holly, if I’m working here what’s the point of travelling every day? It’s not as if Gordon lived in a tip; it’s just not to my taste, that’s all.’
Imogen had designed room settings so that the furniture looked as it would in a real home, as nearly as possible anyway. She’d even bought a couple of paintings from Holly.
‘I know I could have got some cheap prints, nice ones as well, but there’s a certain level I want to achieve. Why spoil the whole thing by not giving it the accessories it deserves?’
Holly didn’t at all take exception to her work being referred to as accessories. Though she didn’t have the confidence to charge American prices, her paintings didn’t exactly come cheap. She knew precisely what Imogen meant and was delighted when she finally saw the finished article. Imogen didn’t have a preview evening like Holly had but she did invite her friends to see the finished product before she opened. When Kate saw it she looked at Charlie with a gleam in her eye. This was her sort of place.
‘No,’ he said rather firmly, though his smile took away any severity. ‘We are not refurnishing. I know you’re the one with the good taste but I’m perfectly happy with our home the way it is.’
‘You’re right. Our home is beautiful. But we couldn’t possibly not buy something, you know, like we did when Holly opened. Get Imogen started. Like wetting the baby’s head.’ Most of Kate’s talk was of babies these days.
Charlie never could say no to his wife but it took quite a while before Kate could find anything that would fit into their very traditionally furnished home. She managed though.
‘Imogen’s Interiors’ was a bright attractive place that drew the eye immediately. Some of the other traders had feared a sore thumb in their beautiful village but in fact it was evident that the new proprietor had impeccable taste. The new emporium was going to be an asset to Cuffingham.
***
‘It looks rather nice, doesn’t it?’ Ginny said one Wednesday, referring to Imogen’s shop. ‘She’s got some lovely things in there, and not just the furniture. I’d love to think I could make something one day that would be worthy enough to put in her showroom.’
‘And maybe one day you will. You’ve come a long way, Ginny. You have a real talent with buildings. Not everyone can draw them or paint them. Perspective is so important and that seems to be something you understand. You should be pleased with what you’ve done; I certainly am.’
Holly always encouraged her students though she never lied to them. The promised Easter exhibition was much more low-key than the previous one at Christmas but it nevertheless provided a focal point for everyone and it was decided they should do it again come December.
Earlier in the year Sara, one of Holly’s Wednesday evening group, had begun working in the gallery. Her previous employers had been victims of the flood and Sara had lost her job. Remembering what Patrick had said about help, Holly had offered two days a week. It meant she had Sundays and Mondays free and on one of the Mondays following Easter she, Emma, Phoebe, and Kate, and of course Louise, set out on another day trip.
This time it wasn’t to visit any of the beautiful and accessible towns or villages. They went to see Gordon. The date for his hearing was imminent and they all wanted him to know he had their support. This time Holly did the driving, having waved goodbye to Tubs who was quite happy at home with Sara keeping an eye on her. As much to the point, Holly was now able to leave her without feeling enormous pangs of guilt every time she went out.
Gordon was living in a rented room, which was probably the reason he arranged to meet them at the local pub for lunch. It was obvious he was making a huge effort to be positive and they didn’t talk at all of his problems. He didn’t mention Cuffingham or ask what had happened to his old home. He met Louise for the first time, telling her mother how beautiful she was. He remarked with astonishment on Emma’s pregnancy, ‘I thought you’d finished with all of that,’ and even more so at Phoebe’s whose condition hadn’t yet been obvious when she’d visited with Adam.
For a short while he forgot his own woes and it was good to see him laugh. Somewhere inside his gaunt frame the old Gordon was still lurking. Phoebe was the last to hug him when they left. ‘We’re all here for you, Gordon. Don’t ever forget that.’
***
Holly was coming under increasing pressure from Art to visit America again.
‘After the last exhibition we only have a couple of your paintings on show at any one time, Holly, because they’re all in our catalogue and easily viewed on the website. However, I think it’s time for another Holly Hunter month.’
‘That would be fantastic.’
‘We’d like to do something on the same lines as before. You’d need to come over though. One of the biggest selling points is our beautiful English Rose.’
‘But I can’t, Art. The business.’
Art was a businessman too. He made it clear that the exhibition would be dependent on her attendance. He was charming but intractable and he was a man who was used to having his own way. Patrick wasn’t above leaning on her as well.
‘I’ve seen your place, Holly, and it’s quaint, but we both know this could be much bigger for you if you give it a chance. Anyway, Beth and the girls would love to see you again. And because you have Sara helping you out now, I’m sure it wouldn’t be all that hard for you to get away.’
And the truth was it wouldn’t be all that hard. The ambition she’d had when she first came to Cuffingham rose to the surface again. She was so content with her cosy life she had been happy to let it lie dormant for quite a while now. She thought about her mother and father. What would they have said? They’d have wanted her to be happy but they would also have wanted her to be successful and fulfilled, if that would make her happy too.
She was struggling, finding it difficult to make a decision. She could no longer use Tubs as an excuse as she’d done when they’d asked her before. Tubs was almost grown up, well behaved, and happy with her ‘friends’ just as long as they fed her when Holly wasn’t there, and took her for a walk of course. In any case, as is the way with dogs, she spent a lot of her life sleeping.
No, Tubs wasn’t the reason Holly was hesitating. She’d always confided in Adam before about what was going on, enjoying the way it made her feel a tiny bit important when either Art or Patrick mentioned another visit. They were walking Tubs one day, the dog running ahead of them along the river path, when she told him about the current situation.
‘It’s a great opportunity, Adam; I know it is. I just don’t know what to do.’
‘You’d be mad not to go, Holly!’
He didn’t say it quietly either. He put huge emphasis on the word mad and continued to tell her she was a very lucky (and talented) young woman and it was a chance any sane person would grab with both hands. All Holly could see was that he didn’t care if she stayed or went. Worse, it seemed he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. Obviously she’d been way off in her reading of the situation.
Since the day in the snow when they’d made Worzel she’d felt something had changed between them. She’d hoped Adam would take their relationship a step further – she was old-fashioned enough to want him to make the first move. Now it seemed all Adam wanted from her was the friendship they’d enjoyed for so long. She meant no more to him than Emma, or even Imogen, she thought bitterly.
Holly finally had to acknowledge to herself what were her true feelings for this giant of a man. Okay, if he didn’t want her, if that was how he felt, she’d go for it. She’d had enough of burying her pride when she’d been married to Harry.
‘You’re right. I will go. In fact this time I’ll go for a couple of weeks. I might as well make a holiday out of it as well,’ she added with no little bravado. Adam’s apparent enthusiasm confirmed that she’d made the right decision. She lost no time in contacting Patrick and telling him the good news. This time things were done in slightly less of a hurry as Art had a slot for her a few weeks ahead. Holly did what all young women do when feeling rejected. She went shopping.
‘It’s been ages since I bought any new clothes, Emma. In fact, I think I’ll go to London for a couple of days: do Oxford Street, Bond Street, Knightsbridge. If Art’s going to sell my paintings for an indecent amount of money I may as well dress appropriately.’
‘I wish I could come with you.’
‘You can’t?’
She hesitated only for a moment. ‘Actually, I don’t see why not. Now all the sickness has stopped I’m feeling really well for the first time in ages and who knows when I’ll ever have another opportunity. You’re right. I’ll come. I can be your style guru.’
Holly found a rather upmarket hotel, which was offering a great bed and breakfast deal, and as she and Emma didn’t mind sharing a room it would have been criminal to pass up the chance. She insisted on paying. It would be in lieu of wages for her guru. And so it was that the two young women hit the capital, though Emma was rather more eager than Holly who, for the first time in her life since she’d known her, didn’t confide in her friend.
***
In the end Holly couldn’t help but be excited on her first visit to London in well over a year. They got a cab from Paddington to their hotel, checked their luggage in though the room wouldn’t be available for another two hours, and went out for lunch. Serious shopping wasn’t on the cards that first day so they had a wander round the Royal Academy for a while. ‘What do you know, Emma. It’s right next to Burlington Arcade.’
‘It would be criminal not to have a look while we’re here, wouldn’t it?’
‘A punishable offence, I’m sure. Window-shopping only though. There’s no way I can afford these prices,’ Holly said, looking with longing at a pair of shoes that had caught her eye. ‘Look at those, Em. They’re beautiful.’
‘Isn’t envy one of the deadly sins? Anyway, I’m a middle-aged mother. There’s no way I could wear anything like that.’
‘Middle-aged!’
‘Midway between childhood and the time I ought to be able to see some sense.’
‘You had me worried there for a minute.’
‘Don’t worry, I plan never to grow up.’
‘That’s a relief. I thought you were going to leave me here all on my own.’
By the time they got back to the hotel and unpacked it was time for dinner but both girls were exhausted so they opted for room service and spent the evening watching television interspersed with some giggling – a lot of giggling.
‘It’s like being back at college.’
‘And I suppose you spent your time at college staying at upper-class hotels, did you, Holly?’
‘No, but I spent a lot of evenings watching the box with your and messing about.’
‘Messing about. We’re putting the world to rights.’ Emma sounded indignant.
A thought flashed across Holly’s mind that in her world not everything was right but she pushed it away, telling herself she was being ungrateful. The next day, after Emma had eaten an enormous breakfast and Holly a more modest one, they went out to engage in the serious task of shopping for clothes.