Summer Season (15 page)

‘Do you fancy going up against Cynthia at the next meeting?’ said Kezzie, and they both giggled at the thought. Kezzie sipped her latte. She was still feeling shaken up about the phone call and felt she had to talk to someone about it.

‘I did something really dumb today,’ she said.

‘Which was?’

‘I rang Richard up. My ex.’

‘And?’ said Lauren.

‘And a woman answered the phone,’ said Kezzie. ‘I felt so stupid. I can’t believe he’s found someone else already.’

‘How do you know it was a girlfriend?’

‘She answered his mobile.’

‘So? She might be someone he works with.’

‘I know everyone he works with,’ said Kezzie, ‘and I didn’t recognize her voice. Besides, I rang him at nine thirty. He’s never in the office that early. He must have been at home.’

‘There might be another explanation,’ said Lauren.

‘I can’t think of one,’ said Kezzie. ‘So, anyway. I’ve decided. It’s high time I moved on. So that’s what I plan to do.’

Joel was sitting at Edward’s writing desk, reading his diary. The study was smaller than the other rooms in the house, and had a nice cosy feel. So of an evening, Joel had taken to sitting in there with his laptop after he had put Sam to bed. Since he’d discovered Edward’s diary, he’d also found himself obsessively reading about his ancestor’s trials and tribulations. It certainly put his own life into perspective. He was glad to read that after the children had been born there was a period of relative calm, when Lily and Edward seemed to have been happy again. He noticed with wry pleasure that the family often went for picnics by the river.

When Claire was alive they had gone on frequent walks on the Downs. There was one walk in particular, that went down into a valley and near a river, where there was the most beautiful willow tree, which had been a particular favourite. Joel found himself often retracing that walk when he wanted to think about Claire, and he liked the fact that it had clearly been a favourite spot of Edward’s too. Sometimes, the river made him feel peaceful. At others, he came home feeling melancholy. The previous day he’d taken Sam out in the backpack, but being a cold and gloomy day, it had had the latter effect. And even Sam’s giggling in the bath hadn’t been enough to cheer him up. His mood hadn’t improved after a hard day’s work, when every decision that had to be made seemed to be a painful one. And when he’d got back with Sam that evening, Kezzie wasn’t there. He’d forgotten that she had told him she was going to be working at home that day. The house felt cold and empty; the prospect of another lonely evening in front of the TV, bleak. He’d got used to Kezzie’s cheerful presence around the place, and found himself missing her joie de vivre.

He poured himself a glass of whisky and stared out at the darkening front garden. He had a sudden longing for Claire. These feelings lurched on him without warning,
knocking him for six and making him gasp with the hideousness of the pain. He could remember an evening in early summer, just after they’d moved in, when they’d sat outside on the old wooden bench on the crumbling patio and looked at their overgrown garden. He’d had one arm around her, and one hand on her stomach, feeling the thrill, when Sam – then only known as the Bump – had kicked. He’d do anything to go back to that moment – one of the last moments, he sometimes felt, when they’d been truly happy together.

Joel hadn’t meant to let Claire down, but he knew he had. When Sam was born, Claire had taken to motherhood like a duck to water, breastfeeding through the night with seeming contentment, creating a bond with their son that he simply could not share. Joel had known it was petty and pathetic of him, but he felt pushed out – it was as though Claire didn’t need him any longer. She had her baby, his needs came first, and Joel was superfluous to requirements. He’d tried to explain how he felt, and she’d just snapped at him and told him he was being ridiculous. ‘Sam’s a
baby
,’ she said. ‘He needs me. It won’t be forever.’

But as the early weeks of parenthood dragged on, and Claire’s obsession with their newborn son had continued to grow, Joel found himself making excuses as to why he was late home, or when he was there, finding projects that needed his urgent attention. There had always been plenty of those.

Looking back, he could see how Claire must have been puzzled and hurt by his distance and behaviour, but at the time he’d justified it by telling her that he was doing all of it for her.

‘Yes, I
really
want to spend all of Saturday with a baby, while you knock walls down upstairs,’ she’d said. ‘There’s nothing I love more than a house full of dust.’

And then inevitably there’d be a row, with all the usual tears and recriminations. And he’d been so resentful. So angry with her. If only he’d been able to see the future. How differently he would have reacted. He’d have taken her into his arms and kissed her and told her she was right. If only.

This feeling of guilt was something he was going to have to live with for the rest of his life. Joel closed his eyes and took another sip of whisky.

‘So you think you’ve got New Horizons?’ said Eileen, at the start of the next Summer Fest meeting (now the official name, despite Cynthia’s objections), towards the beginning of March. ‘Excellent.’

‘Well, I hope so,’ said Joel, whose search for suitable celebrities had included the glamorous ex wife of a jaded popstar, a washed-up alcoholic actor, and an ex soapstar, before eventually persuading New Horizons to show up. As the hottest boy band around, who were still new enough to need all the publicity they could get, they would definitely draw a crowd. ‘They seem pretty keen.’

‘Hmph,’ said Cynthia sniffily. ‘I don’t know why we can’t have Alan Marshcroft, as we’ve always done.’

‘New ideas, remember?’ said Tony Symonds, gently. ‘I think that’s brilliant news, Joel, well done.’

‘You’ll certainly have every little girl from miles around coming,’ said Kezzie. ‘And they
should
bring their parents.’

‘How are we getting on with the other entertainments?’ Tony asked.

‘Fine,’ replied Henry Clevedon, a retired judge. He peered over the top of his spectacles at a list he was holding. ‘We have morris dancing lined up, a choir singing madrigals, and the vicar’s kindly opened the church for the bell ringing practice. He’s also going to charge to visit
the top of the tower. There are very fine views of the Downs from there, you know. On a clear day you can even see the sea.’

‘Marvellous,’ said Tony. ‘Now, we’ve arranged for the High Street to be closed, and a number of people have booked stalls already. George Anderson from the butcher’s is doing a hog roast for us in the field, and in the evening we’re going to have music and fireworks.’

‘Any joy sorting a venue out for the Edward Handford exhibition?’ said Kezzie. ‘Only Joel and I have uncovered lots of interesting material, and plenty of family photos. Edward Handford did such a lot for this village; it would be brilliant if we could celebrate his anniversary properly.’

‘Why don’t we use Lovelace Cottage?’ suggested Eileen. ‘Joel, would you mind?’

‘Er,’ Joel was taken aback. He was unsure whether anyone would want to visit his house, the state it was in, but he supposed it made sense to use Edward’s house as the base for the exhibition. ‘I suppose so, if everyone else thinks it’s a good idea.’

‘I think that’s a great idea,’ said Kezzie, and the rest of the committee seemed to agree.

‘Well, that’s settled then,’ said Eileen. ‘I’ve managed to track down the war memorial from the Memorial Gardens, by the way. If you remember, the County Council removed it a few years ago, intending to restore it, and the project foundered. I’ve spoken to the lady in charge, and she’s put me on to the War Memorial Fund, which give grants to help restore memorials to their former glory. Apparently, we could get the memorial back and do a rededication ceremony if we so wish. But it is going to cost us a lot of money.’

‘Do you think we can get some money out of New Horizons?’ said Kezzie.

‘I doubt it,’ said Joel, who had already explored that avenue. ‘I think they have a very tight contract as to who they can and can’t support charity wise, but we could try and raise our profile a bit more by getting some famous garden people to visit the garden and exhibition, couldn’t we?’

‘Great idea,’ said Eileen. ‘Kezzie, you know about gardens, can you make that your priority?’

‘Thanks very much,’ Kezzie said to Joel slightly crossly, at the end of the meeting. ‘Any gardening contacts I have are via Richard. I can hardly go and ask him.’

‘Why not?’ said Joel, puzzled. ‘I know you’ve split up, but what’s the big deal about approaching him on a professional basis?’

‘Let’s just say that I am not Richard’s favourite person, right now,’ said Kezzie, ‘and I think he’d be very unlikely to help.’

‘Shame,’ said Joel, who still couldn’t quite see what the problem was. ‘We’ll have to find another way. Do you fancy a lift home?’

‘That would be great,’ said Kezzie. ‘Thanks.’

Lauren was working behind the bar at the Labourer’s Legs, and so, for the first time, was Troy. She’d been very nervous to start with, spilling drinks, and pouring duff pints, but as the evening wore on, she grew more relaxed in Troy’s presence. To her surprise, he didn’t try anything on and was gently solicitous with her all evening. He cracked jokes, helped her change the barrel, fended off the more leery of the pub goers, and in short made her session behind the bar far more interesting and fun than normal. He even noticed how much Sally took her for granted.

‘You should stand up to them,’ he said. ‘You’re too dedicated. They take advantage of your good nature.’

‘Yeah, well I need the job,’ said Lauren drily, and he had the grace to look embarrassed.

When they got rid of the last customer at 11.20, Troy persuaded her to sit down with a drink while he cleared up. As Lauren often didn’t get away beyond midnight, she let herself be persuaded. It felt relaxing to be sitting in a pub with Troy again. She was reminded of the early days in their relationship, when Troy seemed like the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. She remembered the thrill of his presence, and the way just a touch of his hand used to send chills up her spine. Troy would come round and take her dancing at midnight, or get her out of bed to drive to the seaside, just for the day.

Those days had been heady and giddy with love and desire. She had never met anyone like Troy, and no one had ever made her feel the way he did. She was dizzy with love, and nothing else had mattered except being with him. The years of responsibility with the twins had changed her, she realized with a jolt. It was a long time since she’d done anything just for her. And she missed the freedom she had had. Despite her reservations about being with Troy, she felt easy in his company, and allowed him to buy her another spritzer, though she insisted that she had to be home for midnight.

‘I’ve got to get up in the morning, don’t forget,’ she said, taking a sip of her drink.

‘I could stay over and look after Sam for you,’ said Troy.

‘I don’t
think
that’s a good idea,’ said Lauren. ‘You don’t get back in that easy.’

‘It’s worth a try,’ said Troy with a grin, and Lauren looked away, feeling uncomfortable. It was all very well sitting here having a drink with him, but she didn’t want to encourage him.

‘Stop flirting with me,’ she said.

‘I’m not flirting,’ he said. ‘Why, do you want me to?’

‘No!’ said Lauren. ‘I’m happy as I am.’

‘Are you? Really?’ Troy leant over and touched her hand.

A tingle went up her spine. Dammit. She couldn’t believe he could still have that effect on her. She snatched her hand away.

‘I’m fine. More than fine. Blissfully happy in fact.’

‘Ah well, if you say so,’ said Troy in disbelieving tones.

‘I do say so,’ said Lauren. ‘And even if I weren’t, it wouldn’t mean I’d be coming back to you.’

‘Shame,’ said Troy.

‘Cut it out,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m pleased you’re back, for the girls’ sake. I’m grateful for your help tonight, but you and me – it’s just not going to happen. So get used to it.’

‘If you say so,’ Troy said again.

‘I do,’ said Lauren firmly. ‘And now I’m going home. Be seeing you.’

She got up, annoyed that she’d been so rattled by him. Because he was right. Tonight, being with Troy had reminded her of why she had fallen for him in the first place. Feelings she thought long dead were resurfacing. She couldn’t afford them to, and nor was she going to let them. Getting back with Troy was a foolish pipe dream and she would never let it happen.

Kezzie hesitated as Joel drew up outside her cottage.

‘Have you got time – would you like to come in for coffee?’

Joel looked at his watch.

‘I promise no dope this time,’ she said.

‘Oh go on, just a quick one,’ he said. ‘I’ve got Claire’s mum sitting tonight, so I don’t want to be late for her.’

‘Do you see a lot of Claire’s parents?’ said Kezzie, as she opened the front door and led him into the kitchen.

‘Not as much as I’d like,’ said Joel, taking his coat off,
and slinging it over a chair. ‘They’ve been great. They live about an hour away, and they come over when they can. My mum’s got Parkinson’s, so unfortunately she can’t help me as much as she’d like; it’s been brilliant having the back-up.’

Kezzie turned on the kettle, and grabbed two cups from the cupboard. ‘You don’t take sugar do you?’

Joel shook his head.

‘It must be really hard for them,’ Kezzie continued. ‘I mean, I’m not saying it’s been easy for you, but losing a child – that must be terrible.’

‘I know,’ said Joel. ‘So it makes me really happy to see how much pleasure Marion gets when she’s with Sam. He’s kept us all going really.’

He looked so sad when he said this that Kezzie instinctively leant over and touched his arm.

‘It will get better, eventually,’ she said, knowing she was mouthing platitudes.

‘Will it?’ Joel looked bleak. ‘There are days when I think I’ll never get over losing Claire. And then I think I deserve that.’

‘What makes you say that?’ Kezzie was shocked.

Joel leant against the kitchen table with his head in his hands.

‘The truth is, Kezzie, and I’ve never told anyone this – not even Lauren – I’m a fraud. Everyone feels sorry for me, the poor widower, bringing up his son alone. But I don’t really deserve their pity.’

Kezzie gave Joel his coffee, and sat down next to him, putting a consoling arm round his shoulder.

‘Don’t be daft,’ she said, ‘of course you do. You’re coping really well with a rotten situation.’

‘I deserve it,’ said Joel.

‘No one deserves something like this to happen to them,’ said Kezzie firmly, squeezing his arm.

‘No?’ said Joel. ‘I was a lousy husband to Claire, and a useless dad to Sam. There isn’t a day goes by when I wish I’d done things differently.’

‘What did you do that was so bad?’

‘I wasn’t there for Claire when she needed me,’ said Joel. ‘I can see that now. But at the time I thought Claire wasn’t interested. She was so wrapped up in the baby it was as if I didn’t exist. It’s pathetic for a grown man to admit, but I was jealous.’ He laughed hollowly. ‘How crap is that. Being jealous of a baby?’

‘Isn’t that quite common?’ said Kezzie. ‘I know Richard said the same when his daughter was born, but he got over it and you would have. You didn’t know Claire was going to die.’

‘But she did die, and every day I’m left with this terrible guilt, that I let her down and she never really knew how much I loved – love her.’

He looked so desolate Kezzie leant over and pecked him on the cheek. The poor bloke. What an awful thing to happen to anyone.

‘You’re way too hard on yourself,’ she said. ‘From where I’m sitting, you’re doing a great job with Sam. And I can’t imagine you being such a bastard as all that. Sounds a bit like Claire wasn’t always sympathetic to your needs.’

‘I’ve never thought of it like that before,’ said Joel.

‘Well, you should,’ said Kezzie, sipping her coffee. ‘I’ve had friends with baby brain, and they go off the planet for months, obsessed with the way their little darlings are behaving. It’s infuriating for a friend, so I can imagine how frustrating it is for a partner. Point is they get over it and Claire would have done. You were just unlucky, that’s all.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Joel toyed with the cup in his hands. He only looked half convinced.

‘I am,’ said Kezzie. ‘Do you think Claire would really
want you to go through the rest of your life moping? What’s done is done. Learn by it and move on.’

Joel looked up at her and smiled, as if something had suddenly dawned on him.

‘You are amazing, Kezzie,’ he said. ‘I’ve never known anyone like you.’

She felt a little thrill when he said that. It felt like a long time since a man had paid her a compliment and she was flattered. She gave him a quick hug as a thank you, and then pulled away, feeling shy and awkward, but Joel pulled her back. It was a long time since she’d been held by anyone and it felt warm and comforting, and right. The months of aching empty loneliness seemed to fade away as she looked up into Joel’s eyes. She was aware of the stubble where he hadn’t shaved, and the heavy musky scent of him. She had the sudden heady feeling that she wanted him very badly. So when he leant over and brushed his lips against hers it seemed natural to respond, and suddenly they were kissing with a passion that she’d forgotten she was capable of.

For a few moments Kezzie was lost in the kiss, without thinking about the consequences, but as she withdrew, panting slightly, it dawned on her this was a mistake.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Not that it wasn’t nice. Or that Joel wasn’t lovely, because both were true. Joel was the first man she’d kissed since Richard, and it was good to know that all the parts were still in working order. But it couldn’t work between them. They were too different. Kissing Joel was a big mistake.

Joel must have clearly thought the same, because he broke away from her abruptly.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,’ he said. He grabbed his coat and rushed out of the house, leaving Kezzie spinning.