‘Did you work there too then, Fred?’ asked Helena.
He nodded. ‘I was on the construction side.’
‘So you met through work?’ Helena went on, hoping she’d get the whole story.
‘Not at the time,’ said Jago. ‘I met Fred after it had all gone horribly wrong.’
‘Oh?’ Helena felt she had to keep prompting because both Fred and Jago were so reluctant to tell her what had happened.
‘For some reason,’ said Jago, ‘I got all the flack, the doorstepping, pilloried in the press, all that stuff.’ He paused. ‘Long sessions with the police which actually worked in my favour in the end because I got to know one of the younger ones. He was my contact when I wanted to find out about that Leo your mother was going out with.’
Fred wasn’t interested in any upsides, he was too indignant. ‘You got that because your uncle kindly redirected all the stuff that he should have dealt with to his nephew.’ Outrage gave Fred energy and he seemed to have stopped being old and frail for the time being. ‘He blamed everything on the apprentice who was working his way up from the bottom, to keep himself out of prison.’
‘Is that true?’ Helena was outraged.
Jago nodded. ‘I was in a bad place in every way when I met Fred.’
‘We met at the site of the fire, by coincidence,’ said Fred. ‘I recognised him, we got chatting and I offered to teach him bricklaying.’
Jago grinned. ‘You told me it was time I got calluses on my hands and actually learned how to build. He took me on, and I learned my trade.’ He paused. ‘I decided to change my name by deed poll before I did that. Grew my hair and a bit of a beard. No one recognised me.’
‘I never agreed with you having to change your identity,’ said Fred. ‘It looked as if you’d done something wrong.’
‘Maybe it was cowardly, but I was so ashamed of my name, I didn’t want to be known by it any more.’
‘How did you choose your new name?’ asked Helena.
‘Jago was a nickname from school, and Pengelly was my grandmother’s name. There is a Cornish connection so I’m not a complete fraud. Anyone else for more tea?’
While he was out of the room Fred said, ‘We’ve kept in touch and he’s always helped me out if I’m in bother. He’s supported my family, too. Not with money but with jobs and accommodation once or twice. He’s built a new life for himself. I’m proud of him.’
Helena’s throat suddenly closed with emotion as she realised she felt proud of him too.
After Jago had brought the tea, he went out again and came back with a bowl of jelly and ice cream for Fred. ‘My favourite,’ he said happily as Jago put it in front of him.
‘I suppose it’s nice and easy to eat,’ said Helena.
Fred gave her a funny look. ‘It’s bloody delicious. It’s always been my favourite.’
Seeing Fred’s, Helena wanted jelly and ice cream too. When they had all had it, Fred yawned.
‘Tell you what, it’s turned into a lovely evening out there,’ he said to Jago. ‘Why don’t you take Helena outside and tell her the rest of the story? There’s a nice bench a little way along. Perfect for looking at the view and talking.’
Helena looked at Jago, who then looked at Fred. ‘You’ll be OK?’
‘I’ve got my bell. I’ll ring if I need you.’
Jago got up and held out his hand for Helena’s so he could pull her up too. ‘This calls for rum.’
‘And more ginger biscuits. For dunking,’ she said.
‘Really?’ Jago and Fred both looked horrified.
‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.’
Jago had to go back inside for an old mac and cushions as the seat, although perfectly positioned, was soaking wet.
‘It is an idyllic spot,’ said Helena. ‘You get a bit of both views, the one at the front and the one at the back.’
Jago nodded. ‘My plan is to make the cottage habitable – extend it a bit – and then Fred could maybe come up for holidays with his daughter and her family.’ He looked down at her. ‘Maybe we could come up here too?’ He had become tentative as if not quite sure how he stood with her.
She picked up on his doubt and became shy. ‘I would like that.’
He handed her a glass of rum and the packet of biscuits. She took one and dipped it in. ‘So?’ she asked. ‘What’s the rest of the story?’
‘It’s more background really. Before the fire I was engaged to be married. We were young but we were in love and she had a big wedding planned. All the bells and whistles, country house hotel, a band for the day and another for the night. Her dress cost several thousand pounds.’
‘Oh my goodness.’ Helena crunched into a rum-soaked biscuit for support.
‘But after it all blew up she broke off the engagement. Said she didn’t want everyone to be putting up pictures and mocking her for marrying a man who could have been responsible for people dying.’
‘Although they didn’t die.’
‘And I wasn’t responsible. She knew that, but the rest of the world thought I was. She had a point.’
Helena sipped the rum without the biscuit and found she liked it.
‘I suggested we elope, so we’d be married but we just wouldn’t have the big party. It turned out it was the big party she wanted really, so our relationship probably would have ended in tears anyway.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘She liked being engaged to the nephew of a major property developer; she didn’t want to be shacked up with a simple builder who was going to have to start again with nothing.’
‘There’s that song,’ said Helena. ‘“If I were a carpenter, and you were a lady …”’
‘Believe me, that song was often in my head in those early months.’
‘So, you not only lost your job and your reputation, you lost the love of your life as well.’
Jago nodded. ‘Except she wasn’t the love of my life as it turned out; she was quite selfish and a bit irritating.’ He paused. ‘She would have never put aside her claustrophobia and got covered in mud because a stranger asked her to rescue a kitten.’
‘Oh.’ Helena’s mood had been pensive but it took a little uplift now.
‘Although I suppose I can’t blame her for wanting the huge extravaganza. It’s what every little girl wants, isn’t it, from when they’re nine years old? That’s what she told me.’
Helena shrugged. ‘Is it? I don’t know.’
‘Really?’ He seemed surprised, almost disbelieving.
‘I may be on my own here, but I haven’t given my wedding any thought at all.’ Now she did think about it she realised she wanted something quite low-key, at her mother’s house. Tent in the garden, lots of cake.
‘But don’t you want to get married?’
She couldn’t read his expression. He was confused, she decided, possibly a bit disappointed, and disbelieving. ‘Well, I haven’t ruled it out. But my life has been focused on different things: my weaving, my career, earning a living.’ She paused. ‘I would like children, eventually – I can’t deprive my mum of grandchildren she’s allowed to feed – but I haven’t really thought about it.’