One Golden Summer

by Clare Lydon

  “I feel that way, as well. I wish I could stay.” Saffron gazed at the horizon, not seeing any obstacles, just the open sea as if saying whatever you want, you can have. She knew, though, life wasn’t that simple.

  Ginger shifted her gaze to her baby sister. “Why can’t you?”

  “Pearl is pushing me to do the next Girl Racer film. If I don’t give her an answer soon, she’ll send her former MI6 goon with the contract and pen. Or, maybe she’ll make me sign with my own blood just to show me who’s the boss of my life.”

  “I never liked Pearl.” Ginger’s disapproving pursed lips had a stronger effect on Saffron than the words.

  “No one likes their agents. They’re a pushy breed. That’s why we hire them. To do and say the things sane people never dare.” There was a time when Saffron unreservedly subscribed to the notion, because that was what every actor told her. But, did that necessarily make it true?

  “Do you really need to make another movie you hate? You have enough money for three lifetimes. And, you can’t tell me that you’ve enjoyed one second when making the previous two. You would call me late at night and cry.”

  “Isn’t that what everyone does? Cry about their jobs?” She made a fist, and rubbed her eye like a child, trying to make Ginger laugh and move on to a less troubling topic.

  Ginger shook her platinum locks, looking so much like the older sister who’d kept Saffron in line all those years ago. “To whinge, yes. But sobbing… talk to any life coach and they’d say if you ever reach that point, it’s time to quit. There’s more to life than a job or, in my case, my marriage.” Ginger sat up straighter. “Look at me, I never thought I’d be happy away from Dave, but you know what, I’m in such a better place right now. Just the other night, I participated in karaoke.”

  “That’s great.” Saffron sarcastically gave Ginger two thumbs up.

  “Don’t be flippant. We both know I never would have with Dave around. He stifled me in ways I didn’t see until he was out of the picture. I’m free to be me. Part of it is being here in Sandy Cove. Away from my old life that never suited me. I don’t care about the latest fashion trends. The hit songs. The hot restaurants.” Ginger took another cleansing lungful of sea air. “Another reason for my new-found happiness is making friends here. Real people with real lives. Not what they put on their social media feeds. Meeting Kirsty has been such a blessing for me.”

  Saffron nodded, afraid to give voice to her thoughts on that front, knowing her sister would pick up on so much more than the words.

  Ginger let out a snort of laughter. “I can see it, even if you’re looking everywhere but me.”

  Saffron met her eyes, to prove Ginger wrong, and it took more effort than she wanted to admit to herself. “I’m doing no such thing.” She pointed at her eyes and then to Ginger. “Looking right at you.”

  “I’m looking back at you.” Ginger mimicked Saffron’s finger-pointing. “Tell me how you feel about Kirsty. Honestly.”

  “I think she’s a great party planner. With her in charge, I don’t have to think of a thing, which is good because you hate all of my ideas.”

  “I don’t hate them.”

  “You don’t like them. You’ve actually called me Hollywood. On more than one occasion.” The tendons in Saffron’s neck tightened.

  “It’s because you can be sometimes. I know you mean well, and I’m eternally grateful for the reason why. But you don’t owe me an apology for missing my wedding. I understood why you had to work. It’s how you dealt with Mum and Dad’s death.”

  Saffron looked back to the sea, wanting to sail to the edge to find out what would happen.

  Ginger continued, “It’s just I’m done doing things to please others. You’re so used to the Hollywood way of life you’ve forgotten about the things we used to dream about, like our forever place. I’ve found mine. It’s time for you to find yours.”

  Saffron sank into a chair. “What if it’s not in my future? I want to stand still, but everyone, not just Pearl, wants me to keep going full speed. I’m getting so many movie offers, and who am I to say no when there are thousands of people who would kill to have my career? My life? The money? The perks?” Saffron curled her arms around herself. “I feel selfish for wanting something different. Pearl’s right when she says a lot of people depend on me for their jobs. If I don’t sign on for Girl Racer, they probably won’t make the movie. That means everyone from the director to the caterers won’t have a job.”

  “I don’t think it’s that black and white. If you say no, they may not make Girl Racer, but they’ll make a different movie. That’s what movie studios do. The entire moviemaking business doesn’t sit squarely on your shoulders, Saff.” Ginger reached out with a hand, placing it on Saffron’s knee.

  “Sometimes I feel like it does, though.” Saffron massaged her temples.

  “I know. You’ve always taken on the world to prove you can handle anything. You want to be responsible, because you’re afraid if you aren’t, that means you’re like them.” Ginger slanted her head to make eye contact. “Tell me, how has that worked out for you? It hasn’t made you happy. You’re the hottest woman on the planet, but you don’t date. It’s not like you’re hiding your sexuality. What’s stopping you from finding your forever someone to live in your forever place?”

  “Because neither exists.” She ground her teeth.

  “Don’t talk nonsense.”

  “Says the woman basing life decisions on a childhood dream.” There was a hardness to her voice, because Saffron wanted both. But the choice she’d made when she was so young to go into acting wrecked everything, while giving her all the things people equated with happiness, when most of the time Saffron wanted to smash her perfect life with a sledgehammer.

  “Children are more honest to themselves. We knew what we wanted back then. Everything was much simpler.”

  “Too simple. Because when people grow up into adults, they turn into selfish gobshites.” Saffron included herself in that category but ticked the scared shitless column for good measure, because wasn’t that the real reason she forged on the path of misery.

  “Not everyone. Yes, Echo hurt you. She did something foolish, and because of her actions you felt like you did when our parents were raving drunks. Out of control. You hate that feeling, yet you keep making decisions that feed the fear.”

  Had Saffron said the part about fear aloud? Or was Ginger using her sister connection to dislodge the truth. Curious, Saffron pressed, “Like what?”

  “Keeping Pearl. You’ll never be in control of your life as long as she’s your agent.” Ginger sliced a decisive hand in the air.

  “You really think I should fire Pearl?” If only it were that easy.

  “That would be a step in the right direction.”

  “What would I do?” Saffron pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I only know acting.”

  “Luckily, you have the resources to take time to figure out stage two of your life, if you so choose. When we were kids, you wanted to be an artist.”

  “I am.” Saffron snorted defensively.

  “In the field our parents found acceptable. Even though they derided your doodling”—Ginger made quote marks in the air—“you still sketch whenever you have a free moment.”

  Saffron blew a raspberry. “That won’t pay the bills.”

  Disappointment and frustration practically drifted off Ginger. “Stop ducking behind your walls. We’ve already established you don’t need the money. What’s your real fear if you quit making movies? That you’ll slow down enough to realise you want to spend your life with a special someone? Not your Hollywood girl squad, but a woman who knows the true you?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t see that ever happening.” Was that still true? Before Sandy Cove, Saffron thought so. But now?

  “I think you can, or you’re starting to get glimpses here, and it’s scaring the s
hit out of you.” Ginger went to her sister, kneeled down, and placed a hand on each knee. “Come out of your Saffron Oliver fortress. Join the real world.”

  “It’s hard to let the walls down. Not after—”

  “Would you advise me to never date again? After Dave?”

  “I’d hate for you to spend your life alone.”

  Ginger slanted her head. “I don’t want that for you either.”

  “How can I truly open my heart?” Saffron needed guidance in this department.

  “One teensy tiny step at a time.”

  “What’s the first step?”

  “Admitting you like Kirsty.”

  Saffron snorted and gripped onto the arms of the chair, tapping her fingertips. “Just because you want me to like Kirsty, doesn’t mean I actually do.” Why was she denying her feelings?

  “I want you to see what’s right before your eyes. A woman who is about as genuine as you can get. She’s nothing like Echo, who is still all over your socials. Why is that?” Ginger’s eyes pierced into Saffron.

  “You know the reason.”

  “Pearl,” Ginger muttered.

  “She’s desperate to keep the Girl Racer magic going to keep raking in the big bucks.”

  “As long as Pearl is in your life, you’ll never be able to have a normal relationship. You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to see where things can go with Kirsty.”

  “What if I get to know Kirsty more and I end up really liking her?” Saffron dropped her eyes, surprised she’d squeezed one of her hands, which was now white and starting to throb from lack of blood flow.

  “Isn’t that the goal?” Ginger’s smile was kind.

  “For normal people, yes.”

  “I have news for you, even Saffron Oliver is simply a woman. You’re no different from the rest of us. You just pretend you are.”

  “My lifestyle isn’t built for a happy ever after.” She knew this part as fact.

  Ginger shook her hands in the air. “Build a life so you can have that. We both know our time on this earth can be fleeting. Grab on to the good bits, because in the end, that’s all that matters. Not the next blockbuster. Not the red carpet. Loving someone and being loved back. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

  It sounded nice.

  But like their childhood chatter about a forever home, it was only that. A dream that fizzled under the harsh light of reality.

  Chapter 13

  “One more shell? Five more shells? I never bloody know.” Helena stood back and assessed the tasting table display. Bottles of wine clad in knitted mermaid outfits—handmade by Hugh—sitting on a beach of oyster shells and sand. Anna had first made something similar the year the shop opened, and Helena had seen photos. She’d put Hugh to work, and he had made something far more stylish. It made Kirsty smile to see Anna’s designs upgraded.

  A bit like Kirsty’s life since their split.

  Kirsty strode over and stood next to her, tilting her head. “It looks absolutely fabulous. As for the shells, you know what my dad always says?”

  “You can never have too many?” Helena bumped Kirsty’s hip with hers.

  “Exactly. It looks perfect.” Helena had spent the previous couple of weeks being far more attentive to the shop’s festival needs than she ever had before. Kirsty wasn’t complaining. She wanted to ask Helena why the sudden drive, but she didn’t want to interrupt her flow, either. She’d learned from years of working with her that striking the perfect balance was never an easy task. Helena’s interest in the business waxed and waned. Right now, she was the perfect partner. Kirsty did not want to get in the way of that.

  The loud beat of a drum made Kirsty open the shop door, securing it with their special wine doorstop. She smiled up at the clear blue sky, as the summer heat hit her airwaves. The festival parade opener was going to be a scorcher. She slipped past a couple of people and peered down the High Street. She could taste the anticipation in the air. She couldn’t see the parade yet, but she could hear it. The pavement outside the shop was busy with spectators, but it was nothing compared to the harbour, which would be rammed.

  Opposite, Donald’s Menswear sat empty, a For Rent sign plastered on the window. Strangely, she missed Donald on the pavement. Would the shop be let soon? She hoped so. The other end of the High Street had a few vacant premises, but this end, nearer to the harbour, was otherwise fully occupied. She wanted to keep it that way for their business and for everyone else around them.

  Minutes later, the drums were upon them, a troop of ten men in two rows of five, banging hip-level drums. Behind them were members of the Chamber of Commerce, this year dressed as oysters, as they had been for the entirety of Kirsty’s life. Two years ago, she’d suggested they try something different. It had been greeted with horror by the whole organisation. The pace of change was slow in this town. As was the pace of the parade, but that suited everyone just fine.

  “Show us your thighs, boys!” Helena leaned against the shop doorway, giving the players of Sandy Cove Football Club her best wolf whistle, Hugh in particular.

  Kirsty winced as the decibels reached her ears.

  The team’s red-and-white striped kit was a tight fit, but Hugh carried it off with aplomb. He wore a rainbow headband around his receding hairline, and teased his shorts up a centimetre or two at Helena’s command. He dashed onto the pavement to land a smacker on his wife, before jumping back into place.

  “Stop objectifying me!” he shouted, giving Kirsty a wink.

  “You love it!” Helena replied with a dirty cackle.

  Kirsty rolled her eyes. She was glad their son Anton wasn’t here. He might have died on the spot.

  Next came the Sandy Cove Lawn Bowls Club, with her dad looking splendid in his club whites. He was waving to the crowds like he was a well-worn royal. It always made Kirsty smile.

  Fifteen minutes later and the parade had passed, the last two slots being taken up by Catch Oyster Bar, their entire staff dressed as oysters. Originality wasn’t a treasured commodity in the town. However, the final pub taking part, The Mariner’s Arms, had at least come dressed as three giant crabs. Kirsty hollered loudest for that.

  She was just about to walk back into the shop when her mum appeared, sprinting along the pavement as if she was in her 40s, not her 70s. Nobody had told Mum she needed to slow down, so she never had. If she ever did, she might never get restarted again.

  “Did you see your dad?” She was hardly out of breath.

  Kirsty nodded. “He was doing his Prince Charles wave again.”

  Helena appeared at Kirsty’s side, giving her mum a kiss.

  Thankfully, she seemed to accept it. Perhaps Kirsty’s words about Helena had sunk in. “Ian looked very statesmanlike today.”

  Mum grinned. “I’ll tell him you said that. He’ll love it.” She paused. “Are you coming down later? I bumped into Ginger in the Co-op earlier, and she said she was going to the harbour.” A loaded pause. “Saffron too.” Her mum leaned in a little as she said the final part, raising her eyebrows. Subtlety had never been her strong point.

  Kirsty gave her a look. “We’ll be there once Anton and his mate relieve us. About five?”

  “That’s about the time when Ginger said she was planning to go.” Her mum paused. “With Saffron.”

  It was like she thought Kirsty was deaf. “Yes, I get it, Mum. Saffron is going. So is most of the town.”

  Mum put a hand on her arm. “Yes, but you haven’t been spending a lot of time with half the town, have you? Even your dad noticed it at the BBQ, and that’s saying something.”

  “Nothing’s going on.” Not a lie. They hadn’t even kissed. But Kirsty knew, whenever they were in close proximity lately, something had changed.

  She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  But she’d like to.

  “Stop being coy.” Her mum wagged a finger. “I’m just saying when she’s around you seem happier. Lighter. More your old self.”
r />   “Absolute rubbish.” But she knew she was blushing.

  Helena nodded. “I agree, Ruth. I think the lady doth protest too much.” She put an arm around Kirsty. “But she’s young, she’s never been in love before. It’s all so new.”

  Kirsty couldn’t help but smile. “Shut up, you two.” She pointed at her mum. “Don’t you have a festival to be at?”

  Mum gave her a grin. “I do. I’m meeting Shirley for lunch.” She reached up and pinched Kirsty’s cheek. “See you later, love refusenik.”

  Kirsty watched her go, then turned. She walked right into Helena’s cheesy grin.

  “You can wipe that smirk right off your face, too.”

  “You love it,” Helena replied. “By the way, Anton’s done some new illustrations for the website, so he’s going to work them up over the next few days.”

  They walked back into the shop. “Ginger said she could implement our online sales once the party’s over, too. Get Anton to whack up the new stuff and the promo pages with locals telling everyone how great we are in the meantime, and then we can get our website into the 21st century, finally.”

  Helena held up a palm, waiting for a high five. “Sounds good, partner!”

  Yep, she was acting really strangely.

  They could hardly make out the harbour by the time they arrived. It was a just din of chatter, a throng of short sleeves, and a sunbeam of collective cheer. Somewhere in there was the market, the cafés, the Crab Star restaurant. Kirsty bristled on sight. She’d never liked crowds. It was part of the reason she’d never done what a lot of her peers did when they left university: move to London. Kirsty loved the capital, but its streets were too packed, and the place was far too impersonal. She loved the simpler life, walks along the beach, the harbour in January when it was just her, a few locals, and Sam who ran the Harbour Oyster Café year-round.

  She fought her way through the crowds, to where Sam was serving a queue of people that stretched beyond her eyeline. She gave him a wave when he caught her eye, and he gave her a wide-eyed grin. Next to him, his two brothers were pumping out drinks with machine-like precision, and his uncle John was shucking oysters, making it look easy. When Kirsty had tried it in her youth, she’d nearly sliced into her main artery.