The Promise of Summer

by Bella Osborne

  He blinked. ‘I see. That’s insightful.’

  ‘That’s me.’ She gave him a cheesy grin. ‘I like lots of colour.’ She ran a hand from her shoulder to her toes over today’s vintage outfit and Curtis’s eyes followed it.

  ‘I had noticed that.’

  ‘Rude!’

  ‘Not at all. It’s a hard thing not to notice.’

  ‘Again, rude. But I get your point. I guess that’s my thing. I want people to notice me but not because I have red hair. When I was a kid I stood out because of my hair.’ She self-consciously ran her fingers through it. ‘I was teased because of it, called names – and that was just my family.’ Curtis gasped. ‘Joke, Curtis. You should be able to spot those by now.’

  ‘Yes. Sorry. Continue.’

  ‘Kids at school were mean but that’s what kids do. They find what’s different about you and they isolate you because of it. I thought I’d left it behind when I went to university but no. Our dorm all had nicknames and mine was Red. However much I tried to introduce alternatives they never stuck. Although I was Miss Whippy for a couple of terms.’ Curtis’s eyebrows jumped and stayed there. ‘Long story, it’s to do with ice cream. Anyway, the point is I wanted people to see something other than the hair, so I started dressing in bright colours and patterns and it kind of became my USP.’

  ‘Interesting.’

  ‘Anyway, what’s your favourite colour?’ she asked.

  ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

  Kim found herself making spaghetti Bolognese for two while Vince tried to wrestle a tennis ball off the dog before he devoured it. She wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. There had been the phone call after the dog training class plus a few other messages. And today he’d offered to help her close up and they’d got talking. He told her he was back in Sheffield for a couple of days and before she’d really paid much attention, they were heading back to hers.

  There was a comfortable familiarity with Vince. That sense of ease with another human being was still there. The hurt was too, but it was long since dealt with and filed away.

  Kim watched Vince through the kitchen window as he raced after Boomer. He looked really well. A little overweight, but then she could hardly talk. You’d never know he was counting down his last days. She didn’t know much about the cancer that was killing him. He understandably didn’t want to talk about it. She tapped on the glass and two heads snapped in her direction.

  ‘Dinner,’ she called out and they both raced inside.

  Over their meal they chatted. There was nothing contentious this time and the conversation was easier. She’d missed many things about being married but this was an unexpectedly big one. The mundane chatter that she had taken for granted. The silly things they’d talked about. The in-jokes that only they had laughed at. These things had walked out of her life along with Vince. Loneliness had crept up on her like a changing tide. Slowly engulfing her and dragging her down.

  They took glasses of wine through to her small front room and sat side by side on the old sofa they had spent many evenings curled up together on.

  ‘I like your new place,’ he said, giving a cursory look around.

  It had been all she could afford after the divorce. He had wanted half of what little equity had been in their old house and she hadn’t been able to borrow much thanks to a fledgling business. But he didn’t need to know that. She was starting to realise she had to stop beating him with the same stick. ‘Yes. I like it too. It suits me, and now Boomer as well.’ At the sound of his name he trotted in from the hallway, where he had been suspiciously quiet. He put his head on Kim’s lap and she stroked his ears, thankful that he wasn’t doing his usual frenetic laps around the living room.

  ‘I’ve been thinking, Kim. I want to make amends.’

  ‘There’s no need—’

  ‘No, hear me out. I messed up and I’m sorry. I’ve managed to save a bit. Got a nice little place in Mablethorpe. Bigger place than this.’ Was that a dig? She shook the thought away. It was just fact, she was being oversensitive. ‘Anyway, I’d like you to have it all when I go.’

  ‘What?’ she spluttered the word out with a half laugh. Was he serious?

  ‘I don’t have anyone else.’

  ‘You’ve a niece and nephew.’ Who she sent a tenner to every Christmas.

  ‘Oh, sure. Of course, and I’ll leave them something but …’ He took her hand. Boomer became interested and started to lick their intertwined fingers. ‘I want you to have the rest.’

  Kim didn’t know what to say.

  An hour flew by, culminating in Curtis reading through a varied list of items in his online basket. ‘Shall I press buy?’ His finger hovered over the button.

  ‘Yep, it’s all good. When you’re next back from London we can go to that art gallery in Shef and you can pick a couple of interesting pictures. They’ll make a talking point. Something to discuss when you’re courting the lay-days.’ Why she said it in a singsong tone, she had no idea.

  ‘Yes. Good idea.’ He pressed the button.

  ‘Now, we need to talk about your new Cordelia-friendly hobby. Which one have you decided to go with?’

  Curtis moved his garden chair closer to Ruby, his thigh rubbing against hers. He shared his laptop screen with her. ‘I did a risk-benefit analysis for each of the options. And as you can see, baking is conclusively the best option.’ He tapped his screen showing the longer list of positives.

  ‘Conclusively,’ said Ruby, quickly skimming the list. ‘I’m quite disappointed the Zumba didn’t come out on top.’

  There was a brief frown before he spoke. ‘Yes, me too.’

  ‘Wow, is that sarcasm Mr Walker?’

  ‘That’s what I was aiming for.’

  ‘Very good.’ Her protégé was heading for graduation. ‘How are you planning to get your Paul Hollywood vibe on?’ Why was she talking like a dodgy DJ? She suspected it was something to do with the heat from his thigh that was radiating up her body and pretty much all she could focus on.

  ‘Do you mean how am I going to increase my knowledge of baking?’

  Apparently not ready to graduate yet. She rolled her lips together. ‘Yep.’

  ‘I thought I might knead some help.’ He motioned with his hands. ‘Failing that, I’ll read some books on the subject and maybe even set up a rival to Greggs.’

  ‘More sarcasm. My word, you’re a regular Chandler Bing.’

  ‘I have no idea who that is.’

  ‘From a TV programme called Friends. My mum and I used to watch it. Anyway, the hobby seems to be under control. Let’s go through the plan of action for next week in London.’

  ‘There’s a plan? I’m impressed.’

  ‘I knew you would be.’ She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and pulled out her phone. ‘Monday, you’ll probably be working late because the project is going live – you could take her to the Thai restaurant in Leicester Square – she’s a regular customer so ordering will be quick. Tuesday, I suggest you play it cool unless she asks you out, in which case check where it is and what to wear and go with it. Wednesday is the project party, so anything goes. But great opportunity to chat to her and bring up the subject of the new hobby you’re starting.’

  ‘But you’ll be at the party too?’ He was watching her closely.

  ‘Er, no. I thought I’d give it a miss.’ What she’d actually thought was that she only knew a couple of people and she didn’t want to spend the evening playing gooseberry to Curtis and Cordelia.

  ‘That’s disappointing. It would be a good opportunity to meet Martin and you know there’ll be free food and drink?’

  ‘Yeah, I know but it’s not really my thing.’ She scrunched up her features as if she’d tasted something sour.

  ‘I would have thought parties were very much your thing. Especially ones with single men and free alcohol.’ He was like Boomer with a tennis ball – he wouldn’t give it up.

  ‘Anyway. Back to the plan. Thursday is your
last night and I’ve booked dinner for the two of you at her favourite restaurant. Wear the dark chinos and the white casual shirt from Jack Wills and remember to mirror her body language where you can without looking like a Covent Garden mime artist.’ She wanted to add: ‘And if you haven’t wowed her by the end of that, you’re never going to.’ She closed her list on her phone and saw the time. ‘I need to make a move.’ She stood up.

  ‘Hang on, we need to discuss the ring.’ She sat down, this time making sure there was a gap between his thigh and hers.

  ‘I had no luck with social media.’ She only had a few hundred followers and very few of them seemed keen to retweet her plea to find Lewis.

  ‘Shall I hand it in to the police?’ he asked.

  ‘I think that’s best.’ They had exhausted all their options to return it. Maybe it was time to let it go.

  ‘And what’s our story if I’m questioned?’

  She chuckled. ‘You won’t be questioned, Curtis. It’s not Line of Duty.’ He opened his mouth. ‘It’s a TV show,’ she said before he asked.

  ‘I think I might at least be asked why we’ve held on to it for this long.’

  It was a good point. She had a dip into her imagination. ‘How about you say we tried to get it to him at the London Eye but when that failed you thought it would be safest at home while you tried to track Lewis down. And that your girlfriend loved it so much, you’ve had a replica made. And that’s all taken time.’ She was pleased with her novel-worthy explanation.

  Curtis didn’t look convinced. ‘Or I could say I was caught up with sorting out my house because of the accident and it slipped my mind.’

  ‘Your version sounds more believable. Let’s go with that.’

  Chapter Thirty

  Vince had put the television on and they’d spent an hour sitting together. There was some series on that he said she had to watch. It wasn’t her sort of thing but it was something she knew she would have sat through with him in the past. She hadn’t really been watching it. Her mind was fully occupied with his declaration that he was leaving her everything in his will. She was flabbergasted. More than that she was sad. Sad about the lost years, the fact that underneath it all, Vince was in fact a decent man. A decent man who had made a mistake. Here he was trying to fix things before his time was up.

  He was leaving and she followed him out into the hallway. ‘My solicitor might want to speak to you. I want to make sure everything is sorted out before I kick the bucket. I don’t want any loose ends.’

  ‘Right. Okay.’ She was still a bit overwhelmed by it all. ‘Vince …’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Thank you. This is very kind of you.’

  ‘That’s me.’ He beamed at her and she felt a little nostalgic for the years they had spent together. His expression changed. Almost as if he knew. He leaned forward and his lips brushed hers.

  Boomer barked and came skidding into the hallway. The interruption pulled Kim back to her senses. ‘Right, bye then,’ she said, trying to reach the door handle and awkwardly darting an arm either side of him, like she was trying to spear something.

  ‘Oh. Okay. Thanks for dinner.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ She held on to the dog by his collar while Vince went to leave.

  ‘Whoops,’ he said. ‘Almost forgot my shoes. What an idiot.’ He jogged through to the kitchen.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ he shouted. ‘That sodding …’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she said, still holding on to both Boomer and the door.

  Vince came back into the hallway. He was smiling but Kim knew him well enough to know it was forced and he was cross about something. ‘The dog has only gone and eaten my shoe.’ He held up the evidence and Boomer leaped to try to retrieve his chew toy. The shoe was trashed – there was a large hole at the toe and the tongue was hanging by a thread.

  Kim stifled a laugh. ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  Vince pulled a disgusted face as he put his shoe on. Boomer strained for the chance to finish off the job and Vince lurched away. Kim pulled the dog back. He whined and leaned against her leg, gazing up at her hopefully.

  ‘Anyway, thanks again,’ said Vince, standing up straight and stepping closer to Kim. He ran a finger across her cheek. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to re-create their earlier moment but it had definitely passed.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ She stood back with the door open.

  ‘Right. My solicitor will probably give you a call.’

  For a second she thought he meant because of his shoe and then she remembered the will. ‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’

  ‘But I want to. Night, Kim.’ He gave her a brief kiss on the lips and left.

  Boomer let out a whimper at the sight of his chew toy disappearing. Kim was quite pleased to close the door.

  Ruby was watching her phone for more updates from Curtis on what she was calling Project Cordelia. He was becoming quite the regular messager. Tuesday in the shop had been quiet, except for Boomer who had had a bit of a noisy day. He was definitely calming down but because of that he seemed to overreact when he heard something and excitedly barked every time, so Kim had to settle him. He genuinely seemed thrilled to see everyone and the customers liked that.

  A teenager was browsing the plants as they had quickly established he couldn’t afford to buy his mum flowers for her birthday. He kept asking the price of each of the plants although the sign clearly explained the pricing and she was starting to ponder the similarity of the nearest plant to his haircut.

  He picked up another pot and waved it at her. ‘How much is this one?’

  Ruby marched over. ‘This, this and this are all the same price and they are the cheapest thing in the shop.’

  ‘Still they’re not exactly cheap, are they?’

  ‘They will last, require minimum care and they’re beautiful when they flower,’ she explained.

  ‘Is that it?’

  What exactly did he expect a pot plant to do? ‘If you feed it, it will grow.’

  ‘Nowt else?’

  ‘It plays “God Save the Queen” on the bagpipes. But only on Thursdays.’

  He huffed, plonked one on the counter and a five-pound note next to it. ‘Can you gift-wrap it?’

  She gave him a tight smile, wrapped the tiny plant in reams of cellophane and finished it with a giant pink bow.

  ‘Cheers, that’s wicked.’ He left appearing genuinely thrilled, she hoped his mother was equally pleased.

  ‘How’s Project Cordelia going?’ asked Kim through the sparse beads.

  Ruby groaned.

  ‘That good eh?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s the problem. He’s in London this week and he keeps updating me on how well it’s going. They seem to be hitting it off. They’re having lunch and tea together each day. I got him to buy a stapler for her as a comedy gift to remember him by.’

  ‘A stapler?’

  ‘I suggested he put a tag on it saying, “To hold things together after I’ve gone”.’

  ‘Cheesy, but good,’ said Kim.

  ‘Apparently she thought it was hilarious and showed everyone in the office. She’s told him she’ll have to get him something special too.’

  ‘Ooh what?’

  ‘No idea, it hasn’t materialised yet. Grrr!’ said Ruby and she laid her forehead on the counter.

  ‘I’m sensing a problem,’ said Kim.

  Ruby kept her head on the counter but turned her face to Kim. ‘You think?’ She sighed and straightened up. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This was the plan and it’s working. I can’t find myself a match but it’s okay because I’m helping Curtis get together with his. So why do I feel utterly shitty?’

  Kim opened her mouth and paused. Ruby waited. Kim shut her mouth and waved her finger about like a Hogwarts first year with a dodgy wand. ‘You’re going to have to work that one out for yourself.’

  She was about to challenge Kim but the door sounded and Boomer barked a welcome, which distracted h
er.

  That evening Ruby was settling down on the sofa in her pyjamas with the latest Jill Mansell novel, Seymour and a hot chocolate when her phone lit up – it was a FaceTime from Curtis. She was instantly intrigued as they’d not FaceTimed before. She answered it before she remembered her PJs and then had to hold it at a very odd angle so only her head was in shot, which made her head fill the screen.

  When the video connected, she saw Curtis baulk at the sight of her giant face and then disappear through a door. ‘What’s going on?’ She peered closer to the screen. Where was he?

  Two doors suddenly opened and Curtis appeared in a flourish. ‘Ta-dah!’ he chorused.

  ‘Double doors,’ she said with a gasp.

  ‘You’d love these. There’s even low-level lighting that comes on at night for you to find your way.’

  ‘That’s brilliant.’ Her grin was making her face ache.

  Curtis picked the phone back up. ‘Are you wearing your pyjamas?’ he asked.

  ‘I might be. Anyway, was there anything else?’

  ‘No, just the doors. I know you’re busy but I had to show you.’

  ‘Thanks. You’ve made my day. And good luck with Project Cordelia.’ She showed him her crossed fingers. He nodded, waved and ended the call. The joy of seeing Curtis and his double doors vanished with him. She stared at the blank screen and felt the loneliest she had in a long time.

  After reading only a few chapters of her book, Ruby’s phone rang and she answered it, expecting it to be Curtis again – she was already smiling at the prospect.

  ‘Hi, I’m calling from Park View Residential Care Home. I’m trying to get hold of Curtis Walker but his phone goes to voicemail and it gave your number.’

  ‘I’m his assistant. What can I do?’

  ‘His father is asking for him.’

  ‘I’m afraid he’s away for work. Is it urgent?’ She feared this was one of those phone calls.

  ‘No, his health is the same as it was. He was just keen to see Curtis as soon as possible.’