Page 63 of Second Chances at the Board Game Café

Taylor frowned and gestured at the board. ‘And what are those?’

‘You can make a donation to fund the fireworks at the ball, for more victory points,’ said Max as if it was obvious.

They began to play. Max grasped the game immediately, and began gathering resources and tailoring clothes at speed. Every time it was her turn, he leaned over, looked at the resources she’d collected already and whispered what she might do.

‘He’s got a real gamer’s mind,’ Harry said. ‘You’ve picked this up so quickly, Max. I bet you’re good at maths, aren’t you?’

But Max wasn’t listening. His focus was on the board, and he was clearly planning his moves in advance, calculating which might give him the most points. Despite this, he didn’t win, losing to Harry by a couple of points whilst Ludek was a close third and Taylor lagged woefully behind.

‘I’ve missed you on Monday evenings,’ she said to Harry, as she and Max finally stood up to go home.

‘Oh yes, the recycling evenings.’ Harry gave a faint smile.

‘Upcycling,’ she said automatically.

‘I felt awkward, you know, after…’ He glanced at Max.

‘Why don’t you come along tomorrow?’ Behind her back, she crossed her fingers.

‘Yes, I might just do that,’ said Harry.

*

As they waited on the station platform the following morning and the train from Essendale to Halifax arrived, Taylor couldn’t help but scrutinise the windows of every carriage, wondering if Harry was on board.

It seemed Max had had the same idea. ‘There’s Harry,’ he shouted. ‘Harry! Harry!’

He waved madly. Taylor could see Harry laughing. She herself gave a more discreet little wave, but couldn’t help smiling.

The train pulled out of the station, but Max continued waving until it had disappeared completely.

His gestures to Harry became even more exuberant as the week went on. On Friday, he windmilled his arms above his head as if he were doing semaphore.

After she’d dropped him at school, Taylor went straight home, singing softly to herself as she walked. Life felt good. She and Harry were friends again, although it had been a little awkward initially at Monday evening’s sewing class, and Max was having a better week. She had an entire rail of gorgeous upcycled garments for the fashion show, which was, fingers crossed, going to be wonderful. The only blot on her horizon was that the old co-operative didn’t feel like home anymore, not now her sewing stuff was upstairs, hidden away out of sight. The front window looked bare without the garments, and the mannequin, the bunting and the little sign advertising her services were gone, even though she’d added curtains, necessary for her privacy now she was sleeping downstairs.

She put her key in the lock with a sense of resignation. Not so long ago, she’d felt such a sense of pride whenever she arrived home to her little shop, but it was gone now.

It didn’t matter, she told herself as she let herself in. Any future clothes sales would have been mostly online anyway.

Although all evidence of her sewing was gone from the front room, she was still effectively running her business from the premises, and wasn’t sure what Tarquin would think about that. She spent her days on high alert; every time there was a knock on the door she felt almost faint with relief upon seeing it was a customer dropping off or collecting a garment.

What would Tarquin say if he saw the bedroom upstairs was set up as a sewing room? She remembered his tone of voice as he’d said she’d have to persuade him to turn a blind eye. She felt dirty as she recalled the way he’d looked at her.

Her back was twinging. The nights on the sofa bed were already taking their toll. She had a mountain of sewing to do, as always, but what she really longed for was a hot bath, to wash off all thoughts of Tarquin and soak away her aches and pains. She wanted to lie in bubbly water and think happy thoughts, thoughts of how fantastic the fashion show was going to be and how wonderful it was that Harry was now back in her life. Even if a relationship was not on the cards, it was good to have him as a friend. She’d missed him.

She went upstairs and turned the tap on full, holding her hand under the flow of water and relishing the sensation of heat. In all the weeks they’d lived here, she’d not had time for a bath, not once, and she didn’t have any bubble bath. She tipped some shower gel under the tap, hoping it might have the same effect, then went to look for some tealights in the kitchen drawers. A candlelit bath with bubbles during the working day seemed like an extravagance, but didn’t she deserve a treat occasionally?

There was a knock at the door. Damn. She would get rid of whoever it was, lock the door, then make a cuppa and take it upstairs to drink in the bath.

Mr B was standing on the doorstep, wearing a red bow tie with a matching handkerchief tucked in the top pocket of his jacket. She hadn’t seen him for weeks, and was struck anew at how dapper he was. A second later, she remembered that she hadn’t seen him since he’d walked in on her and Harry, and she blushed at the memory.

‘Taylor. May I come in?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said. She glanced upstairs but the bath would be okay; it hadn’t been running for that long.

‘I’m so sorry about my last visit. I intruded upon you. I should have knocked.’

‘No, I’m sorry, Mr B. I’m so embarrassed. And it wasn’t what it looked like.’