Summer Season (18 page)

‘I don’t suppose it was like that originally,’ he said. ‘Nobody’s done anything here forever. I’m sure we can trim that back so it’s not so overgrown. Come on, let’s go in.’

He opened the front door with some trepidation. Uncle Jack was a cantankerous old soul, and from his childhood memories the place had never been clean. Claire was used to the spick and span modernity of their flat in town; would she be able to cope with the amount of work needed here? Even Joel, who loved the idea of restoring an old house like this, felt a little daunted.

They had walked into a house trapped in time. There
was dust everywhere, mote beams danced in the green, red and blue shadows cast by sunlight pouring through the stained-glass window of the front door, but the overall impression was of gloomy darkness. The stairway in the hall, though impressive, was made of dark mahogany, and matched the wood panelling up the walls. The parquet floor was partially covered in a faded red and white rug, which had seen better days, and pictures of various aged relatives stared vacantly out of ancient photographs.

‘Who’s this?’ Claire chanced upon a family photo of a stiff-looking Edwardian family: the parents sitting down, the mother with her hair in a bun, looking terribly severe, the father sitting rigid and squinting into the sun, the children solemn and serious, two girls and a boy dressed in their Sunday best. They didn’t look a happy bunch.

‘I think it’s my great great grandfather Edward Handford, who designed the gardens here,’ said Joel. He looked around him, trying to picture what the place could look like without the dust, and the oppressive darkness. The rooms had high ceilings, and there was masses of space. This could be turned into an amazing house, but he could sense Claire’s lack of enthusiasm. ‘I know it’s dark and old fashioned, Claire, but I’m sure if we took away the panelling and opened up the stairway the place would seem lighter. See that window halfway up the hall? If we made that bigger, it would bring in more light. Come on, let’s look upstairs.’

Claire followed him upstairs, pursing her lips as they went through room after room that looked tatty and worn, as if nothing had been touched here for centuries.

‘I feel like I’m in Miss Havisham’s house,’ said Claire, as they walked out of one particularly cobwebby room. ‘How on earth do you think your uncle managed living here?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Joel. ‘Look, I know it’s a lot of work, but can you really resist those views?’

He pointed to the back window. The back garden, as overgrown as the front, stretched down a hill before them, and gave way at the bottom to views of the South Downs. Joel drew the curtains back, and threw open the casement window. Light came pouring in. Suddenly the dark, poky little bedroom they were in was transformed into something much brighter. The sprig-like wallpaper, now faded, had been pretty once. It was possible to see that the room could be bright and pretty again.

‘This could make a lovely nursery,’ Joel cajoled Claire. ‘I know it doesn’t look much now, but really there’s bags of potential. And where else are we going to get so much space for the money?’

Although they were planning to take out a mortgage to buy the house from Joel’s mum, she had generously given them a good price, one they couldn’t really afford to turn down.

‘I suppose,’ said Claire reluctantly.

He looked out of the window and out towards the bottom of the garden. There was a faint sound of sheep in the background, and the birds were singing.

‘You don’t get sounds like that in London,’ he said.

‘True …’ said Claire, still uncertain.

‘You don’t like it?’ Joel had been so certain she would be brought round, once she’d seen the potential of the house. He’d only visited here a few times in his life, but there was something about the mystery and romance of this place that had intrigued him. He couldn’t wait to get going on the restoration.

‘It’s not that exactly,’ said Claire, rubbing her stomach, ‘it’s just such a big move. With Junior on the way, and all the work here, I don’t know how we’ll manage.’

Joel took her hands in his. ‘It will be fine, I promise,’ he said. ‘I am going to make this house perfect for the three of us, and for however many of Junior’s brothers and sisters who come along. It’s going to be fabulous, you’ll see.’

And that’s what he’d done. The first six months they’d been in the house, they’d put in central heating and Joel had worked as hard as he could to strip out the dark wood, bring in more windows, and open the old house to the light. He’d wanted to bring love and laughter back into the house. And now Claire was gone, and the work that had gone into their home seemed wasted and fruitless. He wondered if Edward had felt the same in the end about the garden. Why else had he let it go to rack and ruin? It all seemed such a waste.

Lauren couldn’t stop thinking about Troy, as she pushed Sam down the hill to the park. It was one of those sharp, cold days you get in early March, but at least the sun was out, so she thought they both needed some fresh air. Over and over she repeated back their last conversation. Troy seemed to be hell bent on showing her he’d turned over a new leaf – he’d even started to pay her a bit of maintenance – and she felt that maybe, just maybe, he actually was.

Her mum was not as convinced, though, and every time Troy’s name came up in conversation, she did her level best to make Lauren ‘see sense’ as she put it. ‘That lad is never going to do right by you,’ she said. ‘He hasn’t got it in him. Don’t let him pull you down.’

Part of Lauren agreed with her mum. It was still early days, and while Troy seemed to be getting on with the kids, and enjoying their company, who was to say when the novelty would wear off? Lauren knew she should keep her wits about her, and remain wary, and yet, and yet …

As she turned into the playground she gasped in horror, all thoughts of Troy driven from her mind. Someone had clearly been having a party. The remains of an impromptu barbecue smouldered in a corner, and bottles, some of them broken, were scattered all over the ground. And yet again, someone had sprayed graffiti over the swings.

‘Oh, this is the pits!’ Lauren said to no one in particular.

‘Isn’t it?’ Another mum Lauren vaguely recognized, came up behind her. ‘We should get on to the council.’

‘What are they going to do?’ said Lauren. ‘I’ve tried that before. All that happens is someone comes down here, paints over the graffiti, and then goes away again. Nobody actually
does
anything.’

‘Well, what can we do?’ said the mum, introducing herself as Rose Carmichael. ‘The police never come down here. Nothing will ever change.’

‘That’s a bit defeatist, don’t you think?’ said Lauren. ‘I’m not sure it’s as bad as all that. If we
all
did something, maybe we could change things.’

‘I suppose,’ the mum looked unconvinced. ‘Have you got any big ideas about what you could do?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Lauren, ‘but at least I’m willing to try. I think it’s time we took matters into our own hands and reclaimed the playground for families.’

She took out her mobile and rang Eileen.

‘Eileen, have you got a moment to come down to the playground? It’s in a terrible state – worse than normal. I really think we should start sorting it out. We can’t wait forever for the Parish Council to do something about it.’

‘I’m only on the High Street,’ said Eileen. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’

Lauren put Sam into the swing and pushed him half heartedly while the other mum did the same with her little boy.

‘I just don’t get why anyone would do this,’ she said. ‘It’s so mindless.’

‘I know,’ said Rose. ‘Were you serious about doing something about it?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Lauren.

‘Well, if you’re prepared to do something about it, I’m in,’ said Rose. ‘What did you have in mind?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Lauren, ‘but I’m sure my friend here can help.’

Eileen was striding up to them with a horrified look on her face.

‘This is awful,’ she said. ‘I keep bringing this to the attention of the Parish Council but so far they’ve done nothing. Even with Tony as Chair now, it takes so much to get them to change anything. So I wouldn’t hold your breath and imagine this will make any difference.’

‘I’m not,’ said Lauren, ‘which is why I want your help spearheading a clean-up campaign. Maybe if we prove to the council how much we need this place, they’ll sit up and take notice.’

‘So now you’re running the Save Our Playground campaign, as well as being on the Summer Fest committee and the PTA?’ Kezzie grinned when Lauren told her what had happened. ‘Well, good for you. I think one committee is enough to send me potty.’

‘Yes, well, someone needs to do
something
,’ said Lauren. ‘Otherwise the situation will just get worse. I think we should catch the little scrotes who did this and make
them
repaint the playground.’

‘Quite the community policewoman, aren’t we?’ said Kezzie.

‘Well, someone needs to be,’ said Lauren. ‘I can’t help thinking if the place were spruced a bit more, the vandals might be put off.’

‘They might,’ said Kezzie. ‘I really ought to get out there and start planting properly. Sod waiting for the Parish Council’s approval – I may just do it anyway!’

‘Oh, I think we can make enough fuss to ensure that,’ said Lauren. ‘I don’t think the Parish Council can turn a blind eye any longer. I’m going on Radio Sussex to talk
about it and I’ve already spoken to the
Heartsease Gazette
and the
Chiverton Post
. I’ve got a petition going, too, and thanks to mums in the playground and a Facebook page I started, I’ve got a hundred signatures already.’

‘Blimey, that’s impressive,’ said Kezzie. ‘Tell you what, I’ll see if I can persuade some of my guerrilla gardening pals to come down for a few days. I did ask them if they would when I saw them last. They’re pretty good at turning a barren patch of land into something that looks halfway decent.’

‘And we should really start Neighbourhood Watch patrols,’ said Lauren. ‘The local police aren’t going to do anything.’

‘I bet it’s bored kids,’ said Kezzie. ‘They probably just need something to do. When I was younger I used to get a buzz out of breaking into parks at night. Me and my mates didn’t cause much damage, but we caused enough. I got tired of being so destructive, but enjoyed the buzz of breaking in. So I became a guerrilla gardener instead.’

‘And now you’re a landscape gardener. How did that happen?’

Kezzie paused. She still felt uncomfortable talking about the reasons why she’d come here. And now that Richard appeared to have completely closed the door on their relationship, she was even more reluctant to come clean. She liked Lauren, and didn’t want her to think badly of her.

‘Richard persuaded me that I had a God-given talent that could be put to better use. I was pretty disillusioned with my job at the time, and then I got made redundant, so it seemed like a good idea.’

‘Why did you split up? If you don’t mind me asking.’

Kezzie pulled a face. As ever, when she thought about her last meeting with Richard she felt sick to the pit of
her stomach. How could a moment of such stupidity have caused such a catastrophe? If she could have one wish in life it would be for that evening to replay differently, for her not to have had Emily that day, for Emily not to have done what she did, for Richard to still be in love with her.

‘I – well, let’s just say I cocked up big time,’ said Kezzie. ‘I did something really stupid and now Richard doesn’t want to see me any more.’

‘What on earth did you do?’ said Lauren. ‘It can’t have been that bad.’

‘It was in his eyes,’ said Kezzie, blinking back tears. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be so wobbly about it after all this time. It drives me nuts that I still am.’

Lauren reached over and gave her a hug. ‘Come on, Kezzie, we’re mates. Talk to me about it, it looks like you need to get it off your chest.’

So reluctantly, Kezzie told Lauren the story she’d told Flick. With Flick she had been fairly sure that she wouldn’t be judged, but Kezzie had heard Lauren go on about how much she hated drugs; she wasn’t sure Lauren wouldn’t be offended.

To her relief, when she’d finished Lauren snorted, ‘Is that all?’

‘What, you mean you wouldn’t have been cross if I let the twins eat magic muffins?’

‘They’re four years old,’ said Lauren. ‘That’s different. You know I don’t agree with drugs. But it wasn’t as if you told Emily to help herself. She shouldn’t have just assumed she could eat whatever she wanted without your permission. And frankly, she does sound quite obnoxious. Which is fair enough, she’s a teenage girl. I hated one of my dad’s girlfriends so much, that I put pepper in her tea. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Emily knew exactly what
she was doing and ate those muffins just to cause trouble between you and Richard.’

This was more or less what Kezzie had thought. ‘Do you really think so?’ She felt hugely relieved that her friend was being so supportive.

‘I sure do,’ said Lauren. ‘And if you ask me, Richard’s an idiot, letting his teenage daughter dictate his love life like that. I mean, he could have cut you some slack, couldn’t he?’

‘Do you know, you’re right,’ said Kezzie, wiping away her tears. ‘He damned well could have. He doesn’t deserve me.’

‘No he doesn’t,’ said Lauren. ‘Sorry, I hope you didn’t think I was interfering.’

‘Not at all, you’ve made me feel much better about it,’ said Kezzie, in control of herself again. ‘So come on, how are we going to go about patrolling the playground?’

‘Patrolling the playground?’ Joel said, when he came to pick Sam up. ‘Yeah, I’m up for that, so long as I can get a sitter.’

‘I can always have Sam overnight when it’s your shift, if you want,’ said Lauren. ‘From what we can tell, a lot of the damage occurs around 10 p.m. That does make it rather late.’

‘That would make life easier,’ admitted Joel. ‘Have you got many other takers?’

‘Quite a few,’ said Lauren. ‘I’ve even persuaded Sally and Andy behind the bar to do a stint, by promising to do a couple of extra shifts for them.’

‘And don’t forget, I’m doing one.’ Troy emerged from the kitchen, holding a spanner and looking very dishevelled.

‘How could I?’ said Lauren drily. ‘Joel, you remember Troy?’

‘Of course,’ said Joel. What was he doing here? For some reason, Joel felt put out. He knew Troy visited the girls, but
Lauren had been very specific about the fact that he only came to see them, not her. He hadn’t realized that Lauren had started asking Troy for help around the house. He had no right to let it bother him, but he couldn’t help it, it did.

Troy was rubbing the spanner with a cloth.

‘That’s all fixed for you, Lauren,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t have any problems with that pipe now. I don’t think it will leak again.’

‘Thanks, Troy, that’s brilliant,’ said Lauren. ‘That leak has been driving me mad for ages, and my landlady keeps promising to do something about it, and never does.’

Joel had no idea that Lauren had had a problem with a leaky tap. In fact, he realized he had very little idea of any problems Lauren might have. She never confided in him any more. He suddenly wished she would.

‘You should have said, Lauren,’ he said. ‘I’d have fixed that for you.’

‘Would you?’ Lauren looked at him in surprise. ‘It never occurred to me to ask.’

‘No job is too small,’ he said, wondering why he was so determined to prove his usefulness to her.

It was something about the way that Troy was arrogantly strutting around the place that he found frustrating. Troy had dumped Lauren in it, left her to it, and now seemed to have slotted straight back into her life, as if nothing had happened. It didn’t seem right, and Joel liked and respected Lauren too much to want to see her being hurt again.

Who are
you t
o judge? a little voice in his head said. You were no better with Claire.

But at least I stayed, he thought.

‘It’s OK, mate,’ said Troy, whispering in a conspiratorial manner as Lauren busied herself getting Sam’s things ready. ‘Now I’m back on the scene, I can do all Lauren’s little jobs for her. I appreciate your concern for her, but you don’t
need to worry about Lauren any more, she’s got me to help her now.’

‘I think Lauren’s managed pretty well on her own so far,’ said Joel bluntly. ‘You’re not the only one looking out for her,
mate
.’

He took Sam from Lauren’s arms, feeling more furious than he could remember ever feeling before in his life.

‘Thanks, Lauren,’ he said. ‘Please don’t feel you can’t ask me for help, you always can, you know.’

‘Bye, mate.’ Troy sat down on the sofa and picked up the paper. He really was making himself at home. Joel was seething when he got in the car. Who did he bloody well think he was? Lauren deserved so much better. But, depressingly, it was clear which way the land lay and Joel couldn’t understand why that made him feel so edgy.