Page 33 of Second Chances at the Board Game Café

She spread a black shirt out on the table, held the pillowcase dragon against it and smiled that gorgeous smile of hers. ‘This one would be great, Harry. The green of your dragon would really stand out against the black. It’s quite a straight shirt too, which will make it easier to stitch him onto. Like it?’

‘Absolutely perfect,’ he said, but he wasn’t talking about the black shirt or the dragon.

17

Taylor would have skipped home from the station, but Ava’s dad was waiting in his Volvo and insisted on giving her a lift home too. She couldn’t believe how well it had gone. Loads of people had showed up for a start; she’d found that daunting initially, but it was fantastic to get so much interest. They’d been very generous with what they’d brought: clothes, of course, but also buttons, belts and bits of lace and other remnants. Kate had been very supportive, helping her out by asking questions when she was floundering at the beginning of the session, uncertain of where to start. And the enthusiasm in the room for what they were doing had been palpable; if only she could have bottled it to use on days when she was so tired that she didn’t want to get out of bed.

She wasn’t sure what to make of Harry turning up. He’d looked like a fish out of water, and hadn’t seemed interested in the sewing. Well, not initially. Was he there because of her? she wondered, remembering that fancy bouquet he’d bought her. Did he fancy her? It seemed unlikely. He wasn’t at all flirty, and neither his body language nor his facial expressions gave any indication that he was even the slightest bit interested in her sexually. He was friendly, nothing more.

Why was she even thinking about him?

She never thought about men, although she did have a fantasy that Patrick from The Great British Sewing Bee would come along one day and admire her topstitching.

On the odd occasion when she had wondered if she’d ever have a proper relationship again – and those occasions were few and far between – she’d imagined herself with a man who was as into clothes as she was. Not a fashion slave, but someone who wasn’t afraid to wear something a little different. A guy who liked to be noticed. Whereas Harry dressed almost as if he wanted to blend into the background.

Although once you got over his uninspiring choice of clothes, Harry wasn’t unattractive. In fact, now she came to think of it, he bore more than a passing resemblance to Patrick from the Sewing Bee. How had she not noticed this before? He was like a clean-shaven, less self-assured, less stylish version of Patrick.

There had been something rather sweet, endearing even, about Harry’s reaction to that dragon pillowcase. And hats off to him for having a go at something new. That shirt of his had the potential to be quite striking, although she might have to lend a hand with it. She found herself looking forward to the thought of being Harry’s teacher.

Ava’s dad dropped her off right outside her house, insisting that it was on his way. She thanked him for the lift, said goodbye to Ava and watched them drive away. The lights were streaming out of the window of her little shop and her heart gave an anxious beat. Had Max managed to behave himself for Sylvia? Or had all hell had broken loose?

She stood on the pavement, steadying her breathing. She was more nervous now about setting foot in her own house, than she had been earlier when talking in front of a room full of people. If Max had upset Sylvia, she might refuse to babysit in future and that could spell the end of the upcycling project. And Taylor so wanted this to work; it had reignited that creative spark in her soul that she’d thought had been snuffed out long ago.

She stopped by the front door and listened, fully expecting to hear Max wailing, but there was nothing. She edged towards the window, trying to peep in without being seen herself and was very surprised by the scene inside.

Max and Sylvia were sitting on the sofa together with some kind of board game spread out on the coffee table in front of them. It appeared to be Sylvia’s turn – she was putting some plastic pieces on the board – whilst Max was focused on his hand of cards. Neither of them noticed her.

They looked so content that she was almost loath to disturb them, but at the same time, she was desperate to see what had captured Max’s attention. She’d bought a couple of games from charity shops: Cluedo didn’t work with two players; Monopoly had gone on too long and Max had got bored; and he refused to play chess with her as he beat her every time and said it was too easy.

She withdrew from the window, and opened the door. ‘Hi, Sylvia. Hi, Max,’ she called, walking into the lounge.

Max was laying something on the board now and didn’t even look up.

‘Taylor,’ said Sylvia. ‘I know it’s past his bedtime, but we’re having such fun, aren’t we, Max?’

‘That’s seven points for me. Your turn,’ said Max.

‘What’s the game?’ asked Taylor.

‘Ticket to Ride,’ said Sylvia. ‘You said he liked trains, so I borrowed it from Emily at the board game café. She doesn’t usually lend them out, but I was one of her first customers in the old café, so she said she’d make an exception.’

‘Genius. Has he been okay?’

‘He’s been delightful. Oh, hang on. My turn.’

Delightful? No-one had ever said that of Max before. Of course, she thought so herself but she was his mum so that didn’t count.

‘Last round,’ said Max. ‘I’m down to one train.’

Taylor watched as Sylvia laid down a little line of six green trains across the board, which showed a map of the United States. It looked complicated, but Max appeared to know what he was doing, adding fifteen points to Sylvia’s score.

‘You win,’ he said. ‘By three points. Well done. Can we play this next time please?’

Taylor looked quizzically at Sylvia, wondering if things had really gone okay and if there would be a next time.

‘If Emily will lend it to me again, then yes, we can,’ she said. ‘I might see if I can bring a different map. I think she’s got one with Germany on it.’

After the game had been packed away and Taylor had showed Sylvia out, thanking her profusely for babysitting, she sat down beside Max on the sofa and said, ‘Have you had a good time?’