Chapter 9
Shortly after lunch on New Year’s Eve, I finished Paulette’s patchwork quilt.
I draped it over the top of the sofa cushions and spread it out before standing back to get the full effect, pride flowing through me.
Definitely not a disaster. The scene was from an early spring morning with the sun rising over Derwent Water in a blue and peach sky, and ducks floating beside the wooden jetty.
I opened my mouth to call for Cliff and closed it, my stomach sinking as my brain reminded me he wasn’t around anymore.
‘What do you think, Trevor?’ I asked, but Trevor was busy working on a piece of celery and not paying me the slightest bit of attention.
I folded up the quilt and went upstairs to my craft room to get a clear plastic pouch in which to store it.
I hadn’t anticipated finishing it quite so soon but the strange visit to Marianne on Christmas Day had stirred up all sorts of difficult memories and confused questions.
Desperate to quieten my mind, I’d thrown myself into my crafting and it had soon become a personal challenge to see if I could finish Paulette’s quilt by the end of the year.
Mission accomplished. The problem I had now was what to do with the rest of my day.
After each completed quilt, I always took some time off to think about my next project rather than diving straight into something new.
I could kill a bit of time by dropping the quilt off at Paulette’s house in Willowdale and perhaps pick up a sweet treat from The White Willow if they were still open.
They carried a great range of cakes and tray bakes which I’d discovered could be purchased to take out as well as eat in, which was perfect for me when I couldn’t face sitting at a table on my own.
* * *
The White Willow was busier than I’d expected with at least half the tables occupied.
The log burner at one end and the large Christmas tree at the opposite end of the room created a warm, cosy and festive atmosphere.
Cliff was a huge fan of a Sunday morning walk followed by a full English breakfast and he’d have loved it in here but The White Willow only opened the year after he died.
In some ways it was nice to visit somewhere with no connection to my husband but in other ways it made me sad because he should have still been here. Sixty-three was no age to go.
Unable to decide between the tempting selection, I purchased a slice of lemon drizzle cake, a chocolate brownie and a flapjack, figuring I could stretch out the enjoyment over a few days.
Next stop was Paulette’s house. I’d planned to park outside the village hall but there were cars everywhere so presumably there was a party on – probably a children’s one given the afternoon timing.
Although there was only a single garage at Paulette’s, there was a double drive so I pulled in beside her car.
As I opened my back door to retrieve the quilt, doubts set in.
Was it rude to turn up at someone’s house unannounced on New Year’s Eve?
I couldn’t imagine Veronica ever doing this.
Although I couldn’t imagine Veronica having six days in a row during which the only conversation she had with a human was the supermarket cashier asking if she wanted a bag.
To be fair, the woman who’d served me in The White Willow had been lovely but a two-minute conversation about cake had done little to stave off the intense feeling of loneliness which had cloaked me since seeing Marianne.
Deciding that being armed with a gift would make my intrusion forgiven, I grabbed the quilt and made my way to Paulette’s front door. It wasn’t like I was expecting an invitation inside – I’d just drop and go.
It took a while for anyone to answer but when the door finally opened, it wasn’t Paulette standing there.
A young woman, probably in her late teens, was smiling at me.
Naturally pretty with long tousled light brown hair, a wide smile and sparkly dark eyes, she looked familiar from photographs Paulette had shown me of her family so presumably she was a granddaughter, although I couldn’t say which one.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m guessing you’re one of Paulette’s granddaughters.’
‘Yes. I’m Saffy.’
‘Hi, Saffy. I’m one of your grandma’s crafting friends. Can you give her this and say it’s from Yvonne?’
I raised the bag towards Saffy but she didn’t take it, opening the door wider instead. ‘You can come in and give it to her yourself.’
‘I couldn’t impose when she has family here.’
‘It’s only me and it’s no problem. Grandma would have words if I sent you away.’
I wasn’t convinced but I stepped inside anyway and followed Saffy into the lounge.
With Paulette’s vibrant dress sense and larger-than-life personality, I’d expected her home to be full of statement furniture and bright colours but it was surprisingly modern, neutral and calming in a white, grey and blue palette.
‘Grandma’s upstairs on the phone but she should be down in a minute. I was just making us a tea. Would you like one?’
‘I wasn’t planning on staying.’
She smiled at me. ‘Big plans for tonight?’
‘Gosh, no. Just me and the TV.’
‘So you must have time for a cuppa.’
‘Go on, then,’ I said, feeling quite thirsty.
I wasn’t sure what to do with myself while I waited.
Saffy hadn’t said I should sit down but I could hardly wander around the room when I was here uninvited, so I stood awkwardly just inside the lounge door.
The house had still been a building site when we’d viewed it and the lounge seemed bigger than I remembered.
When Saffy returned with a tray of mugs a few minutes later, she laughed. ‘You are allowed to sit down, you know.’
I took my drink and had just sat down when I heard footsteps on the stairs. ‘Sorry about that, Saffy,’ Paulette called. ‘Who was at the door?’
Paulette entered the room at that point, smiling widely when she saw me. ‘Yvonne! What a lovely surprise!’
‘I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced but I wanted to bring you a gift.’ There was a table beside me with a coaster on it so I placed my drink down and picked up the package. ‘I got it finished sooner than expected.’
Paulette removed the quilt and opened it out with a gasp.
‘Oh, my! Saffy, can you hold this up so I can see it properly?’
Saffy took the quilt from Paulette, spreading her arms wide and high. Paulette’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head.
‘This is spectacular, Yvonne!’ she said after running her fingers along the jetty then stepping back to get a full view. ‘But I can’t possibly accept it. The work that’s gone into this… It’s too much.’
‘I designed it as a challenge and because I liked the photo but it’s a place that’s important to you so, if you like it, I really want you to have it.’
‘Like it? I love it!’
She switched places with Saffy to give her granddaughter a look.
‘It’s lush,’ Saffy said. ‘You’re super talented, Yvonne.’
Their reactions gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside and exactly the boost I needed after such a tough week. I was so glad I hadn’t talked myself out of visiting.
‘Thank you. I love making quilts. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve made over the years but I’ve enjoyed every single one.’
‘Where do you sell them?’ Saffy asked.
‘Nowhere.’
‘So you have a pile of quilts at home doing nothing?’
‘Yes.’
‘How many?’
‘Not sure. Thirty or so? Which is why I really need your grandma to accept this one.’
‘Consider it accepted.’ Paulette draped it over the back of the sofa, smiling at it. ‘It’s so beautiful. I can’t thank you enough, Yvonne.’
I was still on my feet and Paulette surprised me by grabbing me in a hug.
I stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into it.
I’d almost forgotten how good it felt to be hugged – that comfort and warmth from another person’s body – and felt momentarily tearful.
Cliff had been a great hugger, as had my mum, but nobody else in my life had been tactile.
At Cliff’s funeral, a few mourners had given me half-hugs – holding my arms as they gave me a kiss on the cheek or an air kiss – but that hadn’t felt particularly personal.
Not like this. I longed to tighten my hold on Paulette but I was conscious that might be a bit weird for two women who’d only known each other for a few months and had never been tactile before, so I gave her a quick squeeze then released her.
‘You must let me pay you,’ Paulette said.
‘Absolutely not. It’s a gift. Your expression when you saw it was payment enough.’
‘Then let me take you out for a meal to say thank you.’
‘She’s not doing anything tonight,’ Saffy said. ‘She could stay for tea.’
Paulette clapped her hands together. ‘That’s perfect!
We’re ordering a Chinese banquet tonight and intending to stuff our faces so there’s more than enough for three.
In fact, if you want to nip home and pack an overnight bag, you’d be welcome to stay and see the New Year in with us.
We’ve got a couple of bottles of bubbly in the fridge. ’
It was so kind of them but panic welled inside me because there was no way I could accept. Not tonight of all nights.
‘Party!’ Saffy cried. ‘And small ones are the best. You will stay, won’t you?’
She looked and sounded genuinely excited at the prospect and I felt tearful once more. A week ago, Marianne had made me feel so unwanted and now Paulette and a teenager I’d only just met were eager to see in the New Year with me. I wished I could accept but it really was out of the question.
Paulette evidently spotted my discomfort. ‘No offence if you’d rather do your own thing. We can take a raincheck if you like.’
‘Yes, please. I, erm…’
A series of beeps saved me from finding an excuse.
‘Urgh!’ Saffy muttered. ‘My phone’s about to die. I need to find my charger.’
She left the room and, moments later, I heard her running up the stairs. Paulette closed the lounge door behind her and indicated that we should both sit down.