One Perfect Summer

by Paige Toon

  My alarm rouses me from a deep, deep sleep at seven. I press Snooze without even thinking and then abruptly come to, leaping out of bed and rushing to the shower. He’ll be here for a quick walk with Dyson at eight o’clock, and I’m supposed to be leaving with Mum and Dad at nine to go and see the Cerne Giant – a 180-foot-tall chalk figure carved out of the hill – before going for a drive all the way to Exmoor National Park. I wasn’t kidding when I said my mum had a jam-packed weekend planned.

  By eight o’clock, though, Joe hasn’t arrived. At eight twenty-five, I go back inside because it has started to rain. By eight forty, I’m climbing the walls, and by five to nine, I’m seriously worried.

  ‘He’s probably just slept in,’ Mum assures me. ‘Come on, darling, we need to get going. There’s no time for your walk with him now, anyway.’

  Much as I don’t want to, I agree on the premise that we drive via the pub.

  We’re in Dad’s car and starting off down the dirt track to the main road when I see him, jogging across the field towards the cottage.

  ‘STOP!’ I shout. Dad brakes. I climb out of the car and run. ‘JOE!’

  The relief he feels when he sees me is palpable.

  ‘I’m sorry!’ He bends over, panting and out of breath. ‘I ran the whole way here.’

  ‘Where were you? I was worried!’ I exclaim.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ He looks apologetic. ‘I just slept in.’

  ‘You slept in?’ I whack him on his arm and my face breaks into a grin. ‘I thought something had happened to you! I was about to go to the pub to make sure you were okay!’

  ‘Really?’ He grins back at me, still out of breath. ‘You were going to risk facing my parents to check up on me?’

  ‘Of course!’

  He glances over my shoulder. ‘Is that your dad?’

  ‘Yes.’ I pull a face at him. ‘I meant to tell you last night that he wants to meet you.’

  He looks worried. ‘Okay.’ He stands up straight.

  We walk with trepidation towards the car. My dad puts down his electric window.

  ‘Hello,’ he calls as we get nearer.

  ‘Dad, this is Joe. Joe, Dad.’

  ‘Hello, Mr Simmons. Mrs Simmons.’ He nods at Mum in the front passenger seat while shaking Dad’s hand, extended through the window. I’m glad Dad doesn’t get out. This feels formal enough as it is.

  ‘Jim and Marie,’ Dad says good-naturedly, jabbing his thumb towards himself and Mum. ‘Alice says you live nearby?’

  Joe points across the field. ‘At the pub in the next village.’

  ‘Maybe we’ll stop there on the return journey.’

  That’s my cue to get back in the car.

  ‘That’d be great,’ Joe replies as I grimace inwardly. I have no intention of returning to the pub anytime soon.

  ‘I’ll just be a minute,’ I say to Dad, so he puts his window up. I lead Joe to the back of the car, out of view.

  ‘Will you come and see me again tonight?’ I ask.

  ‘It sounds like you’re coming to see me this afternoon,’ he replies.

  ‘If we don’t . . .’ I say awkwardly.

  ‘My parents will be okay,’ he tries to convince me. ‘I won’t let them bother you. Sit outside!’ he suggests brightly.

  ‘Okay,’ I reply with reluctance. ‘But if I don’t . . .’

  ‘I’ll be here at eleven thirty. Earlier closing time on Sundays.’

  ‘You’re knackered, though.’ I remember his reason for oversleeping. He’s had to walk all this extra distance to and from me for the last few days.

  ‘I’ll still come,’ he promises, cupping my face. I tilt my head up to kiss him. ‘You’d better go.’

  ‘I’ll see you later.’

  ‘At the pub,’ he urges.

  I nod and climb back in the car. He stands and watches until we’re out of sight. Dad waits until then to speak.

  ‘He seems nice.’

  ‘He is, isn’t he?’ I beam.

  ‘Don’t think much of the ring in his eyebrow, though.’

  I roll my eyes and smile. Nothing can dampen my mood today.

  I follow Joe’s advice early that evening and sit outside the pub when we arrive. Dad goes in to order, returning to the table with our drinks and a couple of packets of salted peanuts.

  Joe appears at the doorway and my heart flips. He sees me immediately and comes over.

  ‘Hello!’ I sit up straighter.

  ‘Hi.’ He looks delighted to see me, but he doesn’t kiss me in front of my parents. ‘How was the giant?’ he asks them.

  ‘Big!’ Mum exclaims.

  ‘Not what I was expecting,’ Dad replies huffily and Mum and I both giggle. The size of the giant’s enormous erect penis was what really put him off. Those Iron Agers were rude! . . . If the chalk giant dates back to the Iron Age – no one is really sure.

  Joe sits down beside me, close, so our arms are touching. My hairs immediately stand on end and I wish the world around us would disappear so I could kiss him. I put my hand on his knee, under the table.

  ‘Have you had a busy day?’ Dad asks Joe.

  ‘It’s been pretty hectic, yeah.’

  ‘This is a stunning setting,’ Dad adds.

  ‘We’re lucky,’ Joe replies.

  We make chit-chat for a couple of minutes until Joe turns to me, regretfully. ‘I’d better get back to work before anyone notices I’m missing.’

  I nod, sadly.

  ‘It was nice to meet you,’ he says to my dad.

  ‘See you again soon, I imagine,’ Dad replies.

  Joe puts his hand on my hand, still resting on his knee under the table. He squeezes it. Mum and Dad turn to each other and pretend to be otherwise engaged.

  ‘Are you still coming tonight?’ I ask quietly.

  ‘Yes, if you want me to.’

  I nod swiftly and he smiles, kissing me quickly on the lips before standing up.

  ‘See you soon!’ he says cheerfully to my parents.

  I’m on edge until he’s safely back inside, then let out a deep breath.

  ‘I guess we should get going,’ Mum says.

  ‘I’m starving,’ Dad responds, knocking back the last of his half-pint of shandy. ‘And I’d better set off to London in an hour.’

  I hear Dyson whimpering as we pass the pub’s outside courtyard, and it pains me not to be able to go and pat him. He must hate it, being tied up out at the back. I feel a wave of affection for him and silently promise to have some treats ready when Joe comes to see me later tonight.

  About halfway through my holiday, Joe takes a day off so we can go together to Brownsea Island. The island belongs to the National Trust and it’s supposed to be breathtakingly beautiful. No dogs are allowed, though, and Joe was feeling guilty about leaving Dyson all day with his parents, but in the end it was my mum who came through.

  ‘Leave him with me. He can keep me company in the garden.’

  ‘No, he’ll be a nightmare,’ Joe responded. ‘He’ll probably knock over your easel or eat your paint or something.’

  ‘He’ll be fine. He’s a good dog.’ Mum patted him affectionately. ‘If he’s a problem I’ll stick him out on the driveway.’

  Joe hesitated.

  ‘He’ll be fine, I promise!’ she insisted.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  I think she was worried about leaving Dyson all day with Joe’s terrible parents as we are. In the end, Joe conceded.

  The boat for the island arrives and we climb aboard. We sit near the front on the left. Joe wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. I rest my head on his shoulder as we wait for the boat to start. Soon we’re zooming past white cliffs towering overhead and staring in at smugglers’ caves.

  Over the Tannoy, the tour guide tells us that this area was the inspiration behind many of Enid Blyton’s books.

  ‘Did you read Enid Blyton when you were a kid?’ I ask Joe.

  ‘Yeah, The Famous
Five books were awesome.’

  ‘I loved those too. And The Magic Faraway Tree.’

  ‘Yeah!’ he enthuses. ‘The lands at the top of the tree that kept changing . . .’

  ‘And the different fruits that grew on the tree as you climbed up!’

  We pass Old Harry’s Rocks, tall free-standing chalk stacks projecting out of the ocean and named, allegedly, after Harry Paye, the infamous pirate, who used to store his contraband nearby. The man sitting in front of us tells this story to his two excited young boys while their mother looks on fondly.

  ‘It’s really interesting, all this history,’ Joe comments.

  My brow furrows. He’s so interesting – and interested – that I don’t understand why he doesn’t want to go to university. Is that really snobby of me?

  I cuddle in close and press my cheek against his chest. He holds me even tighter.

  Soon Brownsea Island and its pretty castle appear before us. We dock at the pier and walk through to the entrance to pay our fee. We’ve brought a picnic, so we wander until we come to a meadow. There are a couple of peacocks ambling about, and some geese, ducks and chickens too. I throw a mother duck and her babies some bread.

  ‘Now you’ve done it,’ Joe teases, as the chickens come running and clucking. Soon a whole host of wildlife is right on our doorstep. A chicken hops onto our picnic rug.

  ‘That’s one step too far, matey,’ Joe says, pushing it away with his foot. It comes straight back again. ‘Fuck me, these birds are persistent.’

  I start laughing as a peacock shakes his tail-feathers in our direction.

  ‘Steady, boy,’ Joe warns.

  ‘Hey, look!’ I exclaim, looking behind the peacock. ‘That’s a baby peacock! I’ve never seen a baby peacock before. What do you call female peacocks, again?’ I ask, looking at its brown – and far less interesting – mother.

  ‘Peahens?’ Joe says.

  ‘Yeah, something like that.’

  ‘If a peacock is a male and a peahen is a female, what’s the generic term for them?’ Joe asks. ‘Pea?’

  I start to giggle. ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘I’m going to look that up one day,’ he says.

  ‘I thought I was the brainiac?’ I tease.

  ‘I can’t stand this for much longer,’ he says, pushing away another chicken.

  ‘You’ve got to admit, though, they are quite attractive hens. If I was going to own a hen, I’d want it to look like that.’

  ‘If I still know you in ten years’ time, I’ll buy you one.’

  I smile. ‘Why ten years? Why not two years?’

  ‘You’ll still be at university in two years’ time. I’m not sure your room-mates would appreciate the gesture.’

  ‘True. Anyway, I like the sound of ten years.’ My heart clenches. ‘We will still know each other in ten years’ time, won’t we?’

  ‘We’d better,’ he replies. His smile fades and he kisses me. ‘Come on, let’s go for a walk before the birds try to eat us too.’

  We make our way through pine trees and come to the cliff edge.

  ‘Don’t stand too close!’ I pull him backwards in alarm.

  ‘It’s fine!’ he insists with a grin.

  ‘Just come away from the edge.’ I’m terrified.

  ‘I am away from the edge, Alice.’

  ‘Further away!’ I feel like I’m having a panic attack.

  He does as he’s told, regarding me with apprehension.

  ‘I don’t want to lose you,’ I say. ‘I can’t lose you.’

  ‘You’re not going to lose me,’ he says quietly, full of concern. ‘I’m not near the edge.’

  I feel bizarrely like I’m going to cry again. It makes me feel so out of control.

  But call me psychic, psycho, or whatever you like, suddenly I just know he’s going to hurt me, and I won’t be able to stop it from happening.

  He takes my hands and squeezes them.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say, forcing a shaky laugh.

  ‘Let’s go down to the beach.’ He tries to coerce me out of my odd mood.

  ‘Sure.’ I nod quickly. He leads the way and I hope to God I’m not scaring him off with my behaviour.

  I’ve calmed down by the time we reach the steep steps to the beach. We’ve only got a couple of hours before our return boat journey. We sit against a crumbling brick wall built into the cliff.

  ‘I love it here,’ Joe says. ‘It’s magical.’

  ‘My mum should come,’ I reply. ‘She’d adore it.’

  ‘Tell her to bring your dad one weekend.’

  ‘Only if you take a sickie so we can have the house to ourselves.’

  He glances at me and abruptly looks away. A shiver goes through me and I wonder if he’s also thinking the same thing. I want to be close to him. Closer to him. As close as it is possible to get to another human being.

  My thoughts dart towards Lizzy and I feel a little sick . . .

  Lizzy and I went to an all-girls’ school and we both had this bugbear about some of the girls in our class. There was this one small group in particular – led by a girl called Pippa – who were obsessed about losing their virginity before they went to university. Pippa turned eighteen earlier this year and you should have heard her moan: ‘I can’t believe I’m eighteen and still a virgin . . .’

  Of course, Lizzy and I were – are – virgins too, so we didn’t really want to hear someone going on about how this is a bad thing. We both want to wait for someone special – and it certainly didn’t matter to us that we were going off to university without having ‘done it’. But Pippa was obsessed. She went on holiday to Ibiza at Easter and shagged some random guy. She was adamant it was special; she said she fancied the guy like mad and they’d vowed to stay in touch. But they haven’t. And it’s hard to believe that somewhere, deep inside, Pippa doesn’t regret her actions.

  I know – I just know – that Lizzy wouldn’t understand about Joe. She wouldn’t understand if I lost my virginity to him weeks before going away to supposedly start a brand-new, free and single, adult life. She’d think it was a waste. She’d think I was just like Pippa.

  I try to put my friend out of my mind.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if we could stay here tonight? Not catch the boat back,’ Joe says with a smile. ‘I’d build a fire here on these rocks and we could sleep under the shelter of those ferns up the hill.’

  ‘What would you cook for dinner?’ I ask, getting into this idea.

  ‘Chicken?’ he suggests and we both laugh.

  ‘I would love to stay here with you,’ I say quietly after a while. He puts his hand on my waist. My body tingles with anticipation as he slides it upwards. I put my hand inside his T-shirt and he draws a sharp intake of breath. I pull him closer, wanting him to be so much closer.

  The sound of a squealing child makes us break apart. The family from the boat are walking along the sand nearby. The mother gives us a disapproving look and I feel my face heat up as I take my hand away from Joe’s chest. He smiles at me, awkwardly.

  ‘Shall we go?’

  I nod, still blushing.

  ‘Let’s see if we can find a red squirrel.’ He tries to project some enthusiasm into his voice, but it does little to alleviate my embarrassment. I get up and he helps me across the rocks to the steps.

  We get back early that evening after a blissful whole day together. Dyson is deliriously excited to see Joe.

  ‘Was he okay?’ he asks my mum.

  ‘Good as gold,’ she replies. ‘I haven’t fed him any dinner yet, so he might be hungry.’

  ‘Cool. I’ll feed him when I get back to the pub.’

  ‘Lizzy called for you,‘ Mum says to me. ‘You forgot to take your phone with you.’

  ‘Oh, thanks.’ I hadn’t even realised it was missing. Too distracted with a certain someone. ‘How was she?’ I ask.

  ‘Good. In fact, Susan’s chemo treatment is going so well that Lizzy said she might be able to come and stay with us this we
ekend.’

  ‘Really?’ I’m delighted to hear about Susan, but my heart inadvertently sinks as I process the second half of my mum’s sentence. A funny little part of me is reluctant to introduce Lizzy to Joe. It’s strange: she and I have dissected every single crush either one of us has ever had since the age of nine, but for some reason I don’t want to share Joe with her. I’m too frightened she might not see in him what I see. I don’t want her to taint him in any way.

  ‘That’d be awesome,’ Joe enthuses, oblivious to the thoughts racing around my head.

  ‘Wow, yeah.’ I try to sound pleased.

  Joe turns to me. ‘I’d better get back. Thanks again,’ he says to Mum.

  ‘You’re very welcome.’

  I follow him to the gate.

  ‘Walk tomorrow morning?’ he asks.

  ‘Sounds good,’ I say with a smile as he touches his lips to mine.

  ‘I love you.’ He says it out of the blue, almost as though he’s already said it to me a million times. He immediately looks shocked, but I have the biggest smile on my face.

  ‘I love you too,’ I reply.

  ‘Do you?’ His face breaks into an enormous, mirroring grin.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

  Dyson starts to bark at him.

  ‘I’d better get him back for dinner.’

  ‘Okay. See you in the morning.’

  ‘Or later?’ he suggests.

  ‘You really want to walk all the way back here tonight after seeing me all day?’

  ‘You’re tired,’ he says with sudden realisation.

  ‘No, it’s not that,’ I answer hurriedly. ‘I’m thinking of you. I would always rather see you than sleep.’

  ‘I’ll be back later, in that case.’

  ‘Wicked.’

  ‘I’m so pleased you’re here!’ I squeal. After my initial, wholly selfish reservations, I couldn’t wait to see Lizzy. And here she is, on the station platform, on Friday afternoon.

  ‘I’m so pleased I’m here too!’ she squeals back.

  We hug each other tightly.

  She fills me in about her mum on the way back to the cottage. The chemo is awful, but the doctors are encouraging about Susan’s recovery, so that’s an enormous weight off my friend and her family’s minds.