‘I know.’
Nathalie was peering quizzically at her. ‘What is it?’ she asked, sensing an element of doubt.
‘Nothing.’
‘Helena. Tell me.’
‘It’s just… he can’t have actually changed, can he?’ She hated herself for even asking the question.
Nathalie sat up and took her hand. ‘Helena, that is exactly what he wants you to think. It’s too easy to show up here, a year later, acting all reformed and innocent, dangling his insanely gorgeous son in front of you like a carrot on a stick. Offering you the chance to become a happy family again. But it’s all bullshit. Men like him, like Mike, they never change. I’m sure he’d be all romance and sweetness and light to begin with, but wait until that initial burst of effort has worn out… The first time he loses his temper again, who will be the one he takes it out on? Who will be the one to bear the brunt of it all? We all know what he’s capable of…’
Helena nodded, blinking back tears. ‘You are right, I know all that. Thank you, I needed someone else to say it. I needed to hear it out loud. It’s all been such a headfuck.’
‘I know. And you are bound to feel confused. It would be impossible not to. But you’ve got us now. And we love you way too much to let that shitbag worm his way back into your life. You are far, far too good for him. And one day, you will find someone who actually deserves you. A decent, kind man.’
‘I hope so,’ Helena smiled, sniffing loudly and draining her glass as Ted came out into the garden.
‘The girls won’t come down,’ he said. ‘I’ve cleared the table though. And I can smell burning.’
‘Shit! The quiche.’ Nathalie wrenched herself out of her chair and raced inside, muttering expletives as she flung open the oven door and searched for the oven gloves.
‘I’m going to love you and leave you,’ Helena said, skirting around the chaos that ensued as Nathalie fanned the blackened quiche with a baking tray while shouting once more up to Meg and Maisy to get their ‘arses downstairs NOW’.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay for lunch?’ Nathalie asked, laughing in the full knowledge that it looked about as unappetising as was humanly possible.
‘Thanks for the offer,’ Helena grinned. ‘But I’m off to Johnny’s with Marge.’
‘Oh of course! It’s Sunday. Lucky you.’
Ted sighed longingly at the prospect. ‘Unfair,’ he groaned.
‘Oi, you. That’s enough!’ Nathalie gave him a playful shove as she came to the door with Helena. ‘Call me later. If you freak out, you know where I am.’
‘Thanks Nat,’ Helena said, laughing to herself as Nathalie stormed up the stairs spouting a torrent of ‘how dare yous’ in an attempt to persuade Meg and Maisy to finally stop their game and join her and Ted for lunch. Her stomach started to rumble at the prospect of Johnny’s cooking. It had been quite a morning. She had built up an appetite after her run and was looking forward to a couple more glasses of wine to calm her nerves and hopefully forget all about Noah’s reappearance in her life. She wondered if Margery wouldn’t mind driving.
*
They sat outside on the newly repointed patio in front of the kitchen, surrounded by the spoils of Johnny and Helena’s planting earlier in the year: jewel bright poppies, roses, lavender and agapanthus fought for supremacy in the bed that ran alongside the paving stones. Butterflies fluttered their gossamer wings as they danced around the blooms. Helena noticed an admiral butterfly, flitting around her. She thought of her mother again. She felt as if she could hear her mother’s voice in her ear, reassuring her that she was right where she was meant to be, that everything was working out just as it was meant to. She clung onto that thought.
It was the best reward for all their efforts, watching as the beds began to fill out, new shoots sprang up, flowers unfurled and insects lolled happily from plant to plant. Johnny seemed extra attentive towards Helena, complimenting her on her new dress, makingsure her wine was topped up, that she was sitting facing the sun. The stresses of the morning ebbed away as the heady combination of wine, sunshine and delicious food began to work its magic.
‘I thought the fete was a great success,’ Johnny said, ‘despite Noah’s attempt to ruin it for you.’ The disdain in his voice was only too clear in his enunciation of the word ‘Noah’. It made Helena smile. They had already discussed that morning’s visit in great detail. Johnny had grilled her intently to find out exactly what Noah had said, testing the waters to see how she was reacting to it all. She felt stronger after Nathalie’s pep talk, she didn’t mention the tiny part of her that had wanted to believe his lies. She could tell Johnny was relieved to hear that she was standing firm, that she had told him in no uncertain terms that she was not interested in getting back together.
‘We couldn’t have hoped for a more glorious day,’ Margery agreed. ‘There was a real buzz. It’s the first time I can remember such a large gathering around here. People seem really excited about the launch of the café.’
‘I’m so pleased. I just can’t wait for it all to happen now.’
‘How much did you raise?’
‘Nathalie and I went through it last night. £1,570 in total profit. Not bad at all.’
‘That’s brilliant!’ Margery smiled.
‘So with the Just Giving page you have enough to cover all your costs?’ Johnny asked.
‘And some to spare.’
As they soaked up the late afternoon sun, Helena talked through the last steps that she needed to complete before the café’s launch on 23 July. It felt overwhelming but at the same time incredibly exciting. It was hard to believe that in a few short weeks her dream of running a community café would finally come true, and there was no way she was going to let Noah’s reappearance affect any of it.
