‘I remember the Christmas tree croquembouche,’ Ginny called out, and they all began to laugh.
Fern covered her eyes. ‘He tried, but what a disaster. The cream puffs didn’t puff up enough, he got spun sugarand green icing all over the floor.’
‘It looked terrible,’ said Loretta, ‘it didn’t taste particularly good either with those cream puffs on the chewy side.’
‘That’s a bit polite, Mum,’ said Ginny. ‘I ate two to be kind to Dad but they were really bad.’
Loretta was watching all three of them and she took Fern’s hands with her own. ‘Don’t you see? The dish you instantly remember wasn’t the Frenchtoast he had down to a fine art, it wasn’t the onion soup you all loved, it was the one thing he really made a mess of.’ She squeezed Fern’s hands and said quietly so the others wouldn’t hear, ‘Try not to be so perfect all the time, Fern, you really don’t have to be.’
Fern leaned in for a hug. ‘I’ll do my best.’ She smiled.
Alongside their mother, the girls finished clearing up and once thedishwasher was chugging away and everything too big to go in had been washed and dried, they took cups of tea over to the table.
Talk turned to Grandad’s quilt and their progress so far. They had a few squares sorted and Fern knew she was pretty slow but at least she’d begun to contribute. That in itself gave her a lift and she was almost looking forward to carrying on with it.
‘How’s the Christmasshopping going?’ Loretta asked her.
‘I still need a couple of stocking fillers so I’ll drive into Tetbury and have a wander around before I do some more work on the quilt. I might have a look in a couple of charity shops for more material too. It’s fun finding things that’ll mean something to Grandad, and we’ve got lots to play with now.’
Daisy agreed. ‘I’ve done a couple of squares, Ginny hasdone five already.’
‘I’ve been doing some late in the evenings,’ Ginny confessed. ‘It’s relaxing before bed.’
Talk moved on to what to buy their grandad this year. They were giving him the quilt between them but each wanted to get him a gift to go with it too.
‘I got him a personalised case for his reading glasses,’ said Fern.
Ginny was next. ‘I found him a tin of his favourite clotted creamfudge along with a retro container for keeping either that or his favourite biscuits in.’
‘I’ve ordered him some books,’ said Daisy. ‘I’m waiting for them to come in at the bookshop, which will hopefully be any day now.’
‘He seems to keep himself busy up there at Butterbury Lodge.’ Ginny finished her tea.
‘He has company and so much to do, I’m not surprised he didn’t want to live with us,’Loretta agreed. ‘And talking of the lodge, Daisy, a little birdie tells me … well, not a little birdie, but Mrs Ledbetter … she told me someone asked to buy one of your photographs.’
‘That’s amazing, Daisy.’ Fern smiled. ‘Tell us what happened,’ she urged.
Reluctantly Daisy explained how she’d been taking pictures of the residents when they didn’t expect it. ‘I walk around the room and get naturalshots, not posed for. Betty’s son saw the photograph I’d taken of his mum and liked it.’ She shrugged as though it was no big deal. And then she changed the subject back to Grandad’s Christmas quilt and was the first to head to the sitting room to get going with it again.
‘The measurements for each block are written on that piece of cardboard on the mantelpiece,’ Loretta told them once they wereall ensconced and ready to get to work. ‘I’ve already built in the measurement for seam allowance.’
‘And don’t forget,’ Daisy grinned, ‘measure twice—’
‘Cut once!’ Fern and Ginny chorused with her, laughing as they did so and bringing the atmosphere back to what it had been earlier.
‘At least I know I taught you all something,’ Loretta said, shaking her head but smiling at their repetitionof the advice she’d given them right from the very start. ‘I will never forget your little face, Daisy, when you wanted to use the beautiful fabric with sailing boats on it for your quilt and thought you’d measured it correctly but when you cut it you realised you hadn’t. You were devastated. I’d picked that fabric up in the charity shop and we didn’t have any more.’
‘I was gutted,’ Daisy recalled.‘At least I got to use it – that’s why it’s cut on a diagonal with a plain piece of pale blue,’ she told her sisters. ‘It looks good so I got over it, but I tend to remind customers now that they must ensure to measure correctly.’
‘You’re good with the customers,’ her mum encouraged. ‘They adore you.’
‘Mum …’ Daisy flitted away the compliment but Fern knew she was right. Daisy had always beena people person, always able to go up and talk to anyone.
‘Who’s that?’ The doorbell rang soon after they’d settled down and Daisy got up to answer it.
When Fern leaned around the door jamb she saw it was Carrie. ‘The cavalry has arrived!’
Carrie didn’t seem any more relaxed than the last time they met, but then she was so much younger than the rest of them. Fern asked her all about school,which proved to be an ice-breaker rather than the conversation stopper it often was with her sons. And Ginny soon got her talking about materials, textures and designs.
