One Golden Summer

by Clare Lydon

  A gust of wind blasted the house, the garden chairs scraping over the paving stones. Saffron jumped at what sounded like broken glass. “What was that?”

  Kirsty cupped Saffron’s cheek. “Just the wind.” She studied Saffron’s eyes. “You okay?”

  Saffron nodded, kissing the heel of Kirsty’s hand.

  Kirsty smiled, panting. “Now, I’m really in need of water.”

  “Right.” Saffron gave Kirsty a peck on the cheek. “This all started because of water. I wanted to be close to the water, so I chose this place. And, tonight, water brought us together.”

  “Water is amazing that way.” Kirsty nudged Saffron to the side and opened the fridge.

  Saffron pulled two glasses from the cupboard, placing them on the counter.

  Kirsty twisted the cap off the bottle, the fizzy sound echoing off the walls, neither of them speaking, only watching the other with searing expressions.

  No lights were on in the kitchen since they both seemed to silently desire the darkness to protect them from their fears. As they raised their glasses in a silent toast, Saffron’s phone on the counter-top lit up with a message: I miss my boo. Our bed is so empty without you.

  Saffron clicked the button to darken the screen, but it was too late.

  “It’s getting late. I should go.” Kirsty set her glass down, never taking a sip.

  “No, don’t. I can explain.” Could I? And, why hadn’t Saffron disabled notifications from appearing on her home screen when she left the house earlier like she normally did? Because she didn’t want to miss one of Kirsty’s flirty texts. Not that she could say that now and make it seem believable.

  “That’s not necessary. Really. The message makes it clear you aren’t available.”

  “It’s just something she says. Echo gets lonely at night. It means nothing.” If Saffron thought she could get away with it, she’d dance like a court jester with exaggerated hand motions as if saying, nothing to see here, folks.

  “You know me. I like words as a form of communication. And those words do mean something.” Kirsty’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t understand. You told me your relationship was all for show.” Kirsty pressed her palm to her forehead. “That”—she pointed to the phone—“doesn’t look like it’s for show.”

  “It’s complicated.” How could Saffron admit the truth? She wasn’t willing on most days to be frank with herself yet. How she’d been conned by Echo into thinking Saffron mattered? When in reality, Echo wasn’t capable of love. Image and publicity took precedence.

  “I’m not in a place in my life where I want complications.” Kirsty stared into Saffron’s eyes. “It’s just...” She shook her head, her eyes turning glassy. “Good night, Saffron.”

  Saffron stood frozen in the kitchen, unable to banish the thought that although Kirsty had said good night, what she really meant was goodbye.

  Chapter 15

  Kirsty was back up the ladder again, trying to fix the festival bunting. It wasn’t sitting right. It had been annoying her far more than it should for the past half hour. She was well aware of that. But the more aggravation she could eliminate from her day, the better.

  She’d already lived through Sunday dinner yesterday with her parents going on about how wonderful Saffron was, how totally unstarry she was. Kirsty had said nothing, shut down, helped Dad with his crossword and eaten Mum’s roast. They may well have been wondering what happened to their sunny, happier daughter who was at the festival the day before. The one who ate the oyster to impress a girl. However, they didn’t prod Kirsty further. Perhaps they could tell the wrong question might lead to her biting their heads off.

  “Can you go easy on the bunting, Kirst? It didn’t do anything to you.” Helena walked into the shop, carrying a white box from the bakery.

  Kirsty stared out the window, the bunting crushed in her fist.

  Helena touched her leg. “Put it back up, get down, put the ladder away, and come have a tea with me.” She held up the box. “I bought iced buns.”

  That pierced Kirsty’s veneer. A glimmer of a smile broke through. “I’m not sure even iced buns can fix this.”

  “There’s no problem iced buns can’t fix.” Helena made tea and waited for Kirsty to join her at the counter. “So?”

  Kirsty took a bite of the iced bun and sighed.

  Her friend waited for her to carry on.

  “I’m just pissed off that I allowed her in. That’s all. She’s not available and I should have known that.” Kirsty put down her bun. “I did know. That’s the annoying thing. I’d read the magazines, seen Saffron shift when she spoke about her. What the hell was I thinking even putting myself in that position?” She rapped her forehead with her knuckles. How could she have been so careless? “I thought with age comes wisdom, but I’m a walking, talking example that doesn’t apply here.”

  Helena put a hand on her arm. “Circle back and start talking English, please.”

  Kirsty took a deep breath. “Saturday was great. You saw that. We had drinks, we ate dinner, and then everyone else left.”

  “And you stayed for a final drink with Saffron.”

  “Yes.”

  “And then ignored my texts all day yesterday asking how it went.”

  “Not well.”

  “I’m getting that.” Helena paused. “So, tell me.”

  Kirsty cast her mind back to Saturday night. When she’d been wondering whether or not she’d be going home. To the frisson of walking back to Saffron’s house. To being in the kitchen. To finally getting the answer to the question: what was it like to kiss Saffron Oliver?

  The answer: beyond magical. When Saffron’s lips had met hers, real life had taken on a new, improved quality. It had been so perfect while it lasted. The feel of Saffron’s lips on hers. The heat of her tongue. The crackle of possibility.

  Until it had been destroyed by the text from Echo Black. Kirsty’s stomach rolled just thinking about it.

  Fuck Saffron.

  Fuck Echo Black.

  Fuck both of them.

  It didn’t matter Saffron was a movie star, did it? All Kirsty’s disappointments with women felt exactly the same.

  When Anna had told her she’d met someone else, a key part of trusting anybody else with her heart had fallen away. Kirsty had worked so hard to repair the damage over the past few years, but she’d never opened herself up too much. Because deep down, even though she’d never admitted it to Saffron, she agreed with her. People couldn’t be trusted.

  Saffron had proved that by claiming Echo and her were just a publicity stunt, but Echo’s text had told Kirsty a different story. Publicity stunt or not, lines had been crossed. They’d shared a bed. They’d been a thing. Saffron had lied to her. Kirsty didn’t need to know much more.

  Saffron Oliver might be famous and a big deal, but she couldn’t be trusted.

  For someone who was just allowing herself to like Saffron, that was a bitter pill to swallow.

  Helena clicked her fingers in front of Kirsty’s face. “What happened?”

  Kirsty sipped her tea before she replied. “We went back to hers, and we ended up kissing.”

  Helena made a face. “Was she a terrible kisser? I once had a guy who was so enthusiastic when he kissed me, I felt like he’d shredded my lips.”

  Kirsty shook her head. “No, the opposite.” Her body revved at the memory. “She was all the things she should be. Until her ex texted a sweet nothing to her phone. I mean, her ex, her co-star, who the fuck knows? But you don’t text someone at gone 11pm if there’s nothing going on, do you?”

  Helena winced. “Maybe, maybe not. Who knows? It might just be habit.”

  “Even so, I’m too old for dyke drama. I don’t want to be caught in the middle of a break-up that’s not quite done.”

  “But you like her. Maybe you could bend your rules just this once? It is Saffron Oliver.”

  Kirsty frowned. “If this is because you want me to date her for the shop—”

  “
It’s not! I want you to be happy.” Helena frowned, pink colouring her cheeks. “You deserve it. Plus, Saffron seems genuine.”

  Kirsty gave her a resigned nod. “Genuinely unavailable and soon going back to her superstar lifestyle.” She threw up her hands and paced to the end of the tasting table. “She’s not going to settle here, is she? In sleepy old Sandy Cove?” Acid disappointment fizzed inside her. “It feels like she’s just been stringing me along. An amusement while she’s here, before she goes back to her real life with her superstar girlfriend. Like I’ve been her plaything.”

  “What about after? Did she text or call?”

  “Nope. Nothing at all.” Kirsty placed both palms on the table and dropped her head. “It’s just, I’d started to imagine she might stick around. How it might work. But now…”

  Helena walked over and rubbed her back.

  Kirsty straightened up, lightheaded for a few seconds until she acclimatised. “Next time I find myself falling for a movie star, slap me, okay? I am not starring in a rom-com. This is real life. In fact, write it down on a piece of paper and hold it up in front of my goddamn face if this ever happens again.” Kirsty strode to the counter and wrote on the back of one of the consignment notes Helena had just unpacked: Life is not a Hollywood rom-com, you stupid fuck. She handed it to her friend.

  Helena held the note between her thumb and index finger, like Kirsty had just weed on it. “But you ate an oyster for her. You haven’t done that since school. Not even for Anna.”

  “More fool me, eh?”

  The shop door opening interrupted their chat. When Kirsty looked up, the last person she expected through the door was Saffron, but she was standing right in front of her with Ginger just behind.

  Saffron gave her a pained half-smile and hung back, letting Ginger take the lead.

  For her part, Ginger gave her sister a brief glance, before smiling at Kirsty. Did she know what had happened? Kirsty could only assume she did. Unless Saffron was so contained she’d told nobody. Kirsty had no idea. She didn’t really know Saffron at all.

  “Hey, Ginger. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Kirsty’s tone was brittle. Not to be messed with.

  Ginger gave her a look. “It’s the tasting, remember? You arranged for us to go to the Lobster Grill and taste the food they’re preparing especially for the party?”

  Kirsty closed her eyes. Of course. The Lobster Grill didn’t open on a Monday, so this was the only day they could do. Why couldn’t today have been a bog-standard Monday where she could stay in the shop and hide?

  “I brought Saffron along as her palate has tasted the finest foods in the world, so I figured she might be useful. Also, I thought she might find it impossible to turn down a free lunch as she always says there’s no such thing. But I was surprised at the amount of persuasion it took.”

  Kirsty glanced at Saffron. She wasn’t surprised at all.

  Kirsty turned to Helena. “It’s just for a couple of hours this lunchtime. I didn’t think it would be a problem. Sorry I forgot to tell you.”

  Helena shook her head. “It’s not like we’re going to be overrun with wine lovers on a Monday lunchtime, is it?”

  She was being the perfect business partner again. Just when Kirsty wanted Helena to tell her she couldn’t go. But she had to.

  Ginger’s phone ringing pierced the air, making everyone jump. Ginger took the call into the shop corner.

  Which left Saffron standing in front of Kirsty and Helena, who soon departed for the loo.

  Saffron moved her mouth one way, then the other. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then walked over to the wine shelves to her right, reading one of Kirsty’s handwritten notes. “Sunshine Fields Chardonnay is the perfect accompaniment to a summertime meal. Crisp, clean, uncomplicated.” She glanced over at Kirsty. “Would you recommend it?”

  “I favour crisp, clean, and uncomplicated in my life. Sadly, it’s hard to come by. Perhaps you should buy a case so you know what it tastes like.” Okay, that wasn’t the answer she normally gave to customers. But Saffron Oliver wasn’t just any old customer, was she?

  She was someone who Kirsty had developed feelings for far too prematurely.

  Now, she had buyer’s remorse.

  Ginger came back just in the nick of time. “So sorry. That was a client I’ve just taken on, and their website needs urgent attention.” She sighed as she looked from Kirsty to Saffron. “I know this isn’t the best timing and that you really do need me there, but could you do the tasting for me?”

  Irritation slid down Kirsty, landing squarely in her stomach. She’d thought Ginger was her friend. However, she was her party planner, and this was part of her job. Kirsty was going to have to suck it up, wasn’t she?

  “No problem.” Kirsty’s words came out flat. It was how she was going to have to play this. All her emotions boxed up and hidden away.

  Saffron shrugged, avoiding Kirsty’s gaze. “Sure, we can do that.”

  “Great.” Ginger gave Saffron a hug and did the same to Kirsty. “I trust you both implicitly. I’ll call you later.” With that, she left the shop, apparently oblivious to the tension in the air.

  Prickly heat crept up Kirsty’s back as she stared at Saffron. Yes, she should be asking her what the hell she was playing at, but she still remembered what it had felt like standing in her arms two days ago. Finally giving in to their attraction for a few brief minutes. She was still gorgeous, still ticked the attraction box for Kirsty. But life wasn’t as simple as sexual desire, was it? If it was, she’d slam her up against the shop door right that moment and press her lips to Saffron’s.

  Longing flooded her once more.

  Kirsty closed her eyes.

  Damn it.

  Helena walked back in, oblivious to Kirsty’s thoughts.

  Seeing her, Saffron turned and picked up the wine bottle again. “Can you ship me a case of these when you have a chance? I’m keen to know more.”

  Kirsty turned to Helena. “Can you put that order in for Saffron?” She wasn’t going to react to Saffron, despite the heat of her stare.

  Helena gulped then nodded. “Sure, sure.” She signalled to Saffron. “Can you bring it over so I can get the name right?”

  Saffron did as she was told.

  Helena patted the counter. “Leave it here, I’ll put it back on the shelf.”

  Saffron took a deep breath, only now looking at Kirsty directly. “We should go. The tasting’s booked for midday. You ready?”

  Kirsty ground her teeth together. “As I’ll ever be.”

  Chapter 16

  They walked to the restaurant, side by side, the awkward silence growing more uncomfortable with each step. Every part of Saffron itched as if she was covered in hives, and it took all her restraint not to scratch all her skin off.

  Saffron had experienced perplexing moments before, but this stroll was putting every socially embarrassing situation to shame. Even the time when she was introduced to the director of Girl Racer and she stuck her hand out to shake, only to learn after the fact the germophobe never shook anyone’s hand. Her hand had hung there for many uncomfortable seconds, the director’s eyes locked on hers as if daring to see how long she’d hold out. Turned out for eight seconds, which in hindsight wasn’t very long at the moment, though, it seemed like a lifetime.

  The walk from the High Street, along the water, to the edge of Sandy Cove on the Branton Bay side eclipsed eight seconds by an eternity. Every damn one of the ticks of the clock seemed to kick Kirsty’s annoyance into a higher gear.

  A gaggle of tourists in Bermuda shorts and red faces made their way to the beach to catch more rays.

  “It wasn’t until I walked along a beach in Southern California that I realised our pebble beaches are shite.” Saffron acted out walking barefoot on jagged rocks.

  “Luckily for you, your time in Sandy Cove will be short-lived and you can return to your posh lifestyle.” Kirsty kept her focus on the promenade, her shoulders squarin
g for battle.

  The first attempt to alleviate the tension had crashed and burned.

  “The Kent coastline has more character. It even has castles.” Saffron slid her eyes to Kirsty to see if the lamest peace offering in existence had been accepted.

  From the clamped lips, it had not, and quite possibly, it made Kirsty disappear further into her protective bubble. Saffron had to control the urge to stab the air around Kirsty to pop the imaginary barrier. But that wouldn’t accomplish what Saffron wanted and would probably result in pissing off the woman even more.

  If Saffron wanted to apologise for what had transpired after the kiss, she’d actually have to address the ill-timed text. Talking about her personal life wasn’t something she enjoyed doing. How could she say, Hey, Echo Black is your typical obnoxious Hollywood-type whom I unwisely started a relationship with because I thought she actually liked me, but for her it was more about publicity and that hurt? The icing on the cake was Echo sharing intimate photos of them as a way of fighting off rumours they had separated all in an attempt to keep the frenzy of Girl Racer fans alive. Saffron had told Echo, in her Saffron way, that they were done, but Echo wouldn’t relent.

  The irony wasn’t lost on Saffron. If she’d been able to outright tell Echo they were through, Saffron would have a leg to stand on when explaining everything to Kirsty. Truth was, Saffron hated disappointing people and struggled saying what was really in her heart.

  With a smile, she remembered Kirsty saying she found words useful when communicating. The confident Kirsty wouldn’t be in this situation. Every time Saffron started to text Kirsty after the kiss, she became paralysed by her inability to let Kirsty take a peek behind the curtain, worried she would see Saffron, quaking like a child.

  Saffron had hoped fleeing to Sandy Cove would hammer the point home to Echo. They were through. Apparently, the message hadn’t been received. Or Echo ignored it.

  The same was true with Pearl. If Saffron could cut the agent’s apron strings once and for all, she wouldn’t be ducking calls about a movie she didn’t want to make with Echo, absolutely making it clear to both that Saffron wanted a clean break.