Chapter 32
HELENA CLICKED SUBMIT on the final application for funding at twenty minutes past two on the last day of March.
She sent up a prayer that at least one of her bids would be successful.
The deadline for the Lottery fund was noon the following day and she had been up all night finalising the application.
She would now have to wait for all her submissions to be considered.
If they failed then it would be back to the drawing board.
To take her mind off it, Helena volunteered to help Johnny at the weekends with his garden.
There was a lot of work to do, and she was a keen student.
They had to clear beds, dig, weed, water, plant and mow.
Gradually, the wild, overgrown stretch of land behind the house began to resemble a garden.
Helena loved every second of it. She particularly loved watching Johnny at work.
She reassured herself there was nothing wrong with appreciating the warm company and good looks of your friend.
She had managed to suppress any more inappropriate feelings towards him, telling herself that it was pointless, if he was interested in her he would have made it obvious by now.
She remembered the way Nathalie had thrown a cushion at him at Christmas when he’d talked about her secret admirers, and how she’d confided in Helena that she never told anyone who she was dating, in case it got back to her kids.
Helena focused instead on the smells of damp soil and freshly cut grass, which she found comforting and nostalgic, remembering gardening with her dad as a young child.
She loved pushing bulbs into the earth, pruning and nurturing, tying back and tilling the soil, the promise of all that was to come from the fruits of their labour.
Helena would often stay for dinner, sometimes joined by Margery, enjoying more of Johnny’s delicious cooking.
They talked for hours while they worked side by side, and then hours more over dinner, sharing bottles of wine.
A deep friendship grew, Helena’s first real friendship with a man, and one she had come to treasure as much, if not more than, her relationships with Margery and Nathalie.
Their friendship was a mirror in which she could see herself as he perceived her, and she realised how much she liked herself through his eyes.
They talked about everything: their childhoods, their families, previous relationships, hobbies, likes and dislikes.
No stone was left uncovered. She felt like she knew him better than she had any other man in her life.
Weirdly, even after all the years she had spent with him, she felt like she knew Johnny better than Noah, certainly better than she had ever known Dan.
He was so much more articulate and emotionally intelligent than Noah ever had been.
And he asked her questions. She realised with Noah it had been more of a one-way conversation: all about him and how he was feeling, never about her.
She felt able to talk to him about anything, from current affairs to more philosophical questions about life, they never seemed to run out of conversation.
Helena had never felt so at ease in a man’s company.
He really was the opposite of Noah. His company was so relaxing, there was no hidden agenda.
She didn’t have to watch what she said, or what she ate, for fear of being judged or told off.
In fact, since he had let slip that he loved curvy women, she had found herself embracing her new-found curves even more.
She found herself wanting to be around him whenever possible, and the feeling was clearly mutual.
If they weren’t working in the garden, barely a day passed in which they didn’t speak or message each other.
And Nathalie was just the same – a constant string of messages, calls, coffees and dinner dates peppered her days.
Between Johnny, Margery and Nathalie, she realised she had created a replacement family for herself.
It felt wonderful to be so deeply connected to others around her.
There was still a shard of loneliness when she thought of Raffy, or the future children she wouldn’t have, but when she thought back to the loneliness she had felt after Noah had left, or, if she was being really honest with herself, the loneliness she had felt while she was with him, she could hardly believe how far she had come.
She would never forget it, that feeling of being so low you wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground, and she grew more determined than ever to do something that would lift others out of a similar state.
Depressingly, by the end of April she had been turned down for every grant she had applied for, apart from a pitiful ￡1,000 from the local council.
There was only the Lottery fund left. She had already decided if that wasn’t successful she would have no choice but to start all over again, perhaps looking for private investors instead.
She had no intention of giving up on her plans for the café.
By the start of May, the Old Rectory’s garden was beginning to bloom. Johnny arrived at Hazel Cottage one Saturday morning with a bunch of freshly picked tulips and narcissi.
‘For you,’ he said, presenting the mini bouquet to Helena with a flourish. ‘To say thank you for all your hard work.’
‘How lovely!’ Helena beamed, telling herself not to read anything more into the gesture, burying her nose in the flowers and inhaling their heady scent.
‘Have you got time to stay for a coffee? Margery’s just nipped out to post a letter.
She’ll be back in a minute. And I’ve just made a batch of cinnamon rolls.
Ahmed is encouraging me to become a supplier for Coffee Stop, and I’m testing the recipe. ’
‘I thought something smelt good. Didn’t I time that well?’ he laughed, following her into the kitchen and peering at the buns on the cooling rack, each one glazed to perfection and dripping with icing. She put the kettle on and scooped coffee into the cafetière.
‘How did your meeting go?’ Helena asked. Johnny had been to see a new client that morning.
‘Well thanks. It was a French woman called Giselle.’
‘Does she look like her namesake?’ Helena laughed.
‘Who?’ Johnny asked, looking perplexed.
‘The supermodel!’
‘I have no idea who you’re talking about,’ Johnny shrugged. It was one of the things Helena loved most about him – how completely disconnected he was from popular culture. ‘Well, she’s attractive, I’d say.’
Helena felt a flush of something close to jealousy. She wondered if anyone would casually refer to her as attractive like that. In particular, whether Johnny would.
‘What does she do for a living?’ Helena asked.
‘She’s a yoga teacher apparently.’
‘Wow! That’s cool.’
‘Her garden’s totally overgrown, it needs to be razed to the ground and started from scratch.’
‘I wonder if I could persuade her to teach some classes at the café?’
‘She has asked me if I’d like to try a session,’ Johnny said, laughing at the thought. ‘Can you imagine! I’m the least flexible person in the world.’
‘I’ve always wanted to give yoga a go,’ Helena said. ‘Perhaps I should! Does she run classes at home?’
‘I don’t think so. There certainly isn’t much room in her cottage.’ Helena pictured yoga classes in the space at the back of the village hall and added that to her mental to-do list.
At that moment Margery came bustling through the front door with a tangle of leads and yapping dogs. ‘I caught the postman, Helena,’ she called as she shut the door behind her. ‘There’s a letter here for you!’
Helena’s heart leapt into her throat. She had been waiting to hear from the Lottery for days. She took the letter from Margery as she came into the kitchen.
‘Oh god. This is it!’ she exclaimed as she looked at the return address.
With trembling hands she tore the envelope open.
Her eyes skimmed the page, looking for the familiar apologies and eventual refusal she had read so many times over the past weeks.
‘You’re joking!’ she squealed. ‘They’ve said yes! ’
‘No!’ cried Margery.
‘That’s fantastic.’ Johnny beamed, coming over to give her a hug. ‘Well done.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Margery said, giving Helena a kiss. ‘You clever thing!’
Helena read the words aloud, hardly able to believe it herself.
‘We are delighted to inform you that the grants panel has approved your application for funding for the Hambleton Community Café. The amount of ￡45,000 has been allocated to your community project.’ The letter went on to explain the rest of the process.
The funds should be cleared by the end of the week, which meant that works should be able to commence on the village hall as soon as the builders could begin.
‘I can’t believe this is actually happening,’ Helena said. ‘It doesn’t feel real.’
‘Well if anyone deserves a bit of good luck, it’s you dear.’ Margery squeezed her hand. ‘I couldn’t be happier for you.’
‘I quite agree. And I’m not surprised. After all the work you’ve put in, and to think how wonderful it will be for the community, it’s definitely a worthy cause,’ Johnny said. ‘You’d better call Nathalie, she’ll be over the moon!’
‘I’m seeing her tonight for dinner. I can’t wait to tell her.’
‘All these girls’ nights, I’m beginning to feel quite left out.’ Johnny laughed.
‘I’m sure you’d be welcome to join?’ Helena offered.
She still had her suspicions about Johnny and Nathalie.
Johnny hadn’t mentioned anything, but Nathalie had told Helena she had just started seeing someone properly after a few months of casual flirting, and she was being coy about his identity, referring to him only as ‘lover boy’.
She couldn’t count the number of times she had been tempted to ask either Johnny or Nathalie outright, but every time she decided against it.
She didn’t know why. It was almost as though she was scared that knowing the truth would change things between them all.
She realised that if there was something going on between them they were probably keeping it quiet for the sake of Nathalie’s kids.
Besides, Nathalie was a very strong character, and once she had made her mind up about something that was that.
She had vowed not to bring a man into her children’s lives unless it was forever.
Helena sometimes wondered whether they would suddenly come out into the open and announce a secret engagement.
The thought of her two best friends settling down together made her feel panicked, and nauseous.
She knew she would be jealous of Nathalie, and she couldn’t allow her brain to go there.
She usually shoved that thought out of her mind as soon as it arose, uncomfortable to even contemplate how that would feel. She would be the ultimate third wheel.
‘No, don’t worry,’ Johnny said. ‘I’ve already got plans. Besides, girl talk is sacred. Though I hate to think what you end up discussing…’
‘Why? Do you think we might be talking about you?’ Helena raised an eyebrow.
‘Me! I bloody hope not!’ Johnny laughed.
‘Well that would be telling,’ Helena teased. ‘But tonight, we will definitely be in the mood to celebrate. I think I’ll have to crack open some bubbles.’
‘So what happens now?’ Margery asked.
‘I guess I’ll have to start phoning around all the building companies, checking if their quotes still stand and when they can start.’
‘Shall we take another look at all the different options?’ Johnny suggested. They hadn’t touched her enormous file for a few weeks. Helena hadn’t wanted to tempt fate while the funding applications were being considered.
‘That would be really helpful actually,’ Helena said.
They took their coffees out into the garden and sat at the table.
The flower beds were full of blue forget-me-nots and the purple star-burst spheres of alliums shooting upwards, heralding the arrival of spring.
A chorus of birdsong thronged the air. The sun forced its way through a gap in the clouds, as if reaching an arm of light down to lovingly tend the earth below.
The promise of new beginnings mingled with the honeyed scent of the frothing wisteria that tumbled over the fence.
Together, they looked through her file of possible layouts and designs for the café.
It felt so exciting, so tangible knowing that the funding had been approved.
Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get started.
She felt bursting with anticipation for the new chapter that lay ahead.