PATCHING Things Up

The quilt was tattered and worn, like their marriage – but was it beyond repair?

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Maybe it’s time to throw this away?’ Peter held up the patchwork quilt. Several seams hung open. The backing sagged.

Helen stared at him in disbelief. ‘I hope you’re not serious.’

How could he even suggest it? Helen had made the quilt when they were engaged. Over the years, it had reflected their journey as a family. There were squares made from offcuts of dresses sewn by her grandmother. Friends had bought her fabric when they were overseas. After Amelia was born, Helen often let her choose. So there were farm scenes, cows, even cafes on the quilt. The carefully cross-stitched letter ‘A’ was Amelia’s sewing project in year seven.

Over the years, squares had needed replacing as they faded or met with mishaps. Some fell victim to Myrtle, their kitten.

Helen hadn’t looked at the quilt since Amelia left home to go to university last autumn.

‘Maybe it’s had its day?’ Peter said. But seeing her expression, he put it back in the cupboard.

‘So have we,’ she felt like saying, even knowing it was only half true. She hadn’t got used to being empty nesters.

‘The quilt isn’t perfect and neither are we,’ she said. ‘I’ll get round to fixing it.’ She didn’t mention the state of their relationship. Whether that needed fixing too. But she thought it.