A Summer to Remember

by Victoria Connelly

  ‘I mean, are you going to try and get it published?’ Nina added.

  He didn’t answer for a moment, but stared out of the French doors into the garden beyond. ‘What do you think?’ he asked her at last.

  Nina’s mouth dropped open in surprise. What did she think? He was asking her opinion on what was a pretty important decision to make. She felt a swell of pride at being so trusted by him. It was something she had never experienced in the workplace and it made her feel so happy.

  ‘I think,’ she began, ‘that you should definitely send it to a publisher or an agent. I believe that’s what writers do.’

  ‘Is it?’

  She nodded. ‘I’ve done a little bit of research on the internet about it all. You can even self-publish. It’s very easy these days.’

  ‘You’ve been thinking about this for a while, have you?’

  Nina bit her lip, hoping that he wouldn’t think she’d overstepped the mark. ‘I think the novel deserves to be read,’ she told him. ‘It’s a wonderful story and it would be so sad to think that we’re the only people who will ever read it.’

  Dudley picked up his pipe, but didn’t light it. He just tapped it into the palm of his left hand as he thought things through.

  ‘What do you think?’ Nina prompted him a moment later.

  His eyebrows were dangerously close to the brow of his nose now, but then a tiny smile broke across his face. ‘I think I should very much like to see my little book published. Look into it some more for me, will you?’

  Nina beamed him a smile. ‘I certainly will,’ she said, making a mental note to make a good long list of agents and publishers whom she hoped would like what she was fast becoming to think of as their novel.

  ‘But this business is just between you and me, right?’

  ‘Right!’ Nina said.

  ‘And we still keep everything under lock and key. There aren’t many things in this house that are mine, but this book is mine and, until it’s finished, nobody sees it but you and me!’

  Nina immediately thought of Olivia’s confession to reading it and wondered how many others had seen the manuscript. Poor Dudley, she thought. There was very little privacy to be had at the mill. He had recently insisted that he and Nina kept the study door locked whenever they left the room. It seemed rather a ridiculous set-up, particularly if you were just going down the hall to make a cup of tea in the kitchen. But, Dudley assured her, those were the precise moments when one could be taken advantage of.

  It was as though he were researching a cure to the common cold rather than scribbling a historical romance that would probably never see the light of day, but it was Nina’s job to oblige him. Although, perhaps she should warn him not to read any more of his novel in bed and then fall asleep – leaving his chapters in the clutches of Olivia.

  She smiled. She rather liked being Dudley’s trusted assistant with honoured access to his most private novel. It was a true privilege, and one she had never been afforded before.

  Along with her progress on Dudley’s novel, Nina had been given another list of things to organise for the wedding anniversary party. Olivia had ordered the marquee that was to be erected in the back garden, but had left Nina in charge of most of the other things. That meant that there was a long list of people to coordinate.

  That afternoon had been set aside for a progress report.

  ‘Have we got the final number of guests now?’ Olivia asked as she placed a tray with tea and homemade cherry scones on the table in the front room.

  ‘Out of the eighty invited, there have been only five so far who can’t make it.’

  ‘Excellent!’ Olivia enthused.

  ‘So I’ve informed the caterers.’

  ‘And they’ve got the number of vegetarians and other dietary requirements?’

  Nina nodded. ‘I’ve also been in touch with the rental company and have given them a final number for chairs and tables.’

  Olivia smiled as she poured the tea. ‘And how are the decorations coming on? What about all these marvellous balloons?’

  ‘No problems there. We’ve got the twenty-five large silver balloons to launch at the end of the evening and we’ve also got a mix of silver and purple for inside the marquee.’

  ‘It’s like getting married all over again!’ Olivia laughed. ‘I’m so excited!’

  Nina smiled. She was looking forward to the party almost as much as Olivia, and had been formally invited to sit at the table with the Miltons.

  ‘The florist is going to erect two stands of flowers and trailing foliage at the entrance, and a rope of ivy and silver ribbon around the marquee.’

  ‘And have you been in touch with the band?’

  ‘Yes. They’re booked and raring to go, too,’ Nina told her.

  ‘It isn’t a real party without real music and dancing, is it?’

  ‘Livvy?’ a voice called from the hall.

  ‘We’re in here, Dud.’

  ‘Did I hear dancing mentioned?’ Dudley asked, breezing into the room and whisking Olivia out of her seat. She giggled as Dudley spun her around the room. Nina watched, mesmerised. She’d never seen Dudley in such a good mood. Wow, she thought; twenty-five years of marriage and they still wanted to dance together. Now that was something to aim for.

  ‘Stop, stop!’ Olivia pleaded after a moment.

  ‘You’ll need more practice than that before the big day.’

  ‘I know, but the champagne will fuel me. OH, CHAMPAGNE!’

  ‘All in hand,’ Nina assured her.

  ‘This girl,’ Olivia started, short of breath after her waltz around the living room, ‘is an absolute gem.’

  ‘Don’t I know it,’ Dudley agreed, causing Nina to blush.

  As well as the party arrangements, there was Nina’s dog-walking duties with Ziggy. Whilst it had been a job that had been forced upon her without much in the way of consultation, it was one she couldn’t imagine living without now.

  ‘You’re so good with him!’ Olivia had told her one evening over a glass of wine.

  ‘I am?’ Nina had said in surprise.

  ‘I’ve seen how he is around you. You just have the knack. Honestly, I wish I had half your talent with him. He’d be a much calmer dog, I’m sure!’

  Nina knew that Olivia was just buttering her up and would do and say almost anything to get Ziggy off her hands. Still, she had come to love her time with Ziggy, getting to know the footpaths across the fields and through the woods and learning the different moods of the river. It was such a far cry from her previous job, but Nina was all too aware that her time at the mill was fast drawing to a close.

  On one particularly beautiful July evening, Nina and Ziggy were emerging from a little wood and heading down to the river. The sky was slowly turning from a duck-egg blue to a rich apricot streaked with violet clouds, and a cool breeze had encouraged Nina to do up the buttons on her yellow cotton cardigan. She was going to miss these walks, she thought. How easy it was to just leave the mill and immediately find oneself in the middle of some of Norfolk’s loveliest countryside. She often wondered if she would have discovered it herself if it hadn’t been for her dog-walking duties. She certainly wouldn’t have met Justin if it hadn’t been for Ziggy.

  She still hadn’t seen him since his strange departure from the mill all those weeks ago, but they had swapped innumerable texts since then, with photos of Bess and Ziggy flying between their phones and silly snippets of news. It was a funny kind of relationship, but it brightened many of Nina’s solitary hours at the computer.

  She was just watching a deer dancing across a field when she saw him.

  ‘Justin?’ she called.

  ‘Nina!’ he said. ‘I was just going to text you.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were back in Norfolk.’

  ‘No. I didn’t know myself until a couple of hours ago. Got some unexpected time off. Have to go back first thing tomorrow, though.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, unable to disguise her disappoin
tment. ‘Where’s Bess?’

  ‘Got her nose stuck in a rabbit hole,’ he said, bending down to stroke Ziggy’s head. ‘This one’s looking a lot calmer, these days.’

  ‘Oh, he’s still a Labradoodle and can be a bit of a wild child when he wants to be.’

  ‘Can’t we all?’ Justin said, his eyes twinkling. ‘And how are you?’

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘You?’ She cringed at the awkwardness of the conversation. It was strange; she felt like she knew this man but realised that there was so much about him that she didn’t know. It felt like a long time since she’d last seen him.

  ‘Yes, pretty good,’ he said. ‘And how’s the novel coming along?’

  ‘Really well. I don’t think it’ll be long until it’s finished.’

  ‘Wow!’ Justin said. ‘That’s pretty impressive.’

  Nina nodded. ‘I never thought I’d get the chance to be involved in something so exciting,’ she said. ‘I got so used to working in that awful office with the boss from hell, and I kind of just imagined the rest of my life would be like that with no hope of reprieve!’

  ‘And then you found this place.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s so special to me. I’ve really been made welcome here and I feel—’ she paused. ‘I feel as if I’m beginning to find myself. Olivia and Dudley have trusted me with so much and have given me the space and time to do things my way. They’re very special people.’

  ‘Yes,’ Justin said. ‘They are.’

  Suddenly, Nina got excited. ‘Why don’t you come back to the mill and say hello to them? I’m sure they’d love to see you.’

  ‘No, no,’ he said. ‘Another time. It’s getting late now.’

  Nina looked at the last streaks of light in the sky and nodded. ‘I suppose I should be getting back, otherwise I won’t be able to see where I’m going.’

  Justin nodded. ‘That’s what I miss most about the countryside – the all-enveloping darkness.’

  ‘You miss that?’

  ‘Why yes!’ he said.

  Nina laughed. ‘It seems like a strange thing to miss.’

  ‘Not at all. Not when you have street lamps, neon signs and security lights all battling to keep you awake at night. I really miss the comforting depths of the countryside’s darkness.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to be scrambling about in this night’s particular darkness,’ Nina said.

  ‘Let me walk you back,’ Justin said, whistling for Bess who soon joined them.

  ‘But then you’ll have to walk home in the dark,’ Nina pointed out.

  ‘Yes, but I like it and I’m used to it. And I also have a torch.’

  ‘Ah!’ Nina said as they walked along the riverside footpath with the stars high above them.

  ‘Nina,’ he said after a moment. ‘Have you thought about what you’re going to do after the summer?’

  She sighed. ‘I’ve been half-heartedly looking out for other jobs – I was kind of hoping that Dudley would have said something by now about keeping me on, but he hasn’t. He’s mentioned starting another book, but I don’t know how serious he is about it and if he even needs me for it.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘Brood a lot!’ Nina said with a laugh that only went some way towards masking her insecurity. ‘Look for another Milton family?’ she suggested.

  ‘That won’t be easy to find,’ he said.

  ‘I know,’ she said.

  They’d reached the bridge and the sound of the rushing water filled their ears.

  ‘You’d better head back,’ she said, bending to stroke Bess.

  He nodded. ‘I wish I— I wish we had longer,’ he said. ‘I always seem to be rushing back to London.’

  Nina gave a little smile. ‘Yes,’ she said and then he did something that took her completely by surprise – he bent forward and kissed her cheek.

  ‘Good night,’ he said and turned to leave before she had the chance to say anything, leaving Nina to watch his tall figure become engulfed in the darkness of the Norfolk countryside.

  She turned and walked across the bridge. ‘Did that really happen?’ she asked Ziggy, but Ziggy didn’t have time to concern himself about kisses. He wanted some supper, and pulled at the lead in order to reach the front door faster.

  ‘Is that you, Nina?’ Dudley shouted from the study as Nina closed the front door behind her and unclipped Ziggy’s lead.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, joining him in the study. ‘You okay?’

  ‘My pipe!’ he complained, searching his desk like a madman. ‘Nina! Have you seen it?’

  She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid not.’

  Dudley charged out of the room to frantically search elsewhere when Nina’s phone beeped. It was a text from Justin.

  Really sorry not to have more time with you. J x.

  Not to worry, Nina texted back. Dudley’s in the middle of a pipe crisis. Can’t find it! She pressed send.

  Try the bowl on the dresser Justin replied.

  Without thinking, Nina walked through to the kitchen and, sure enough, there was the lost pipe in the bowl on the old oak dresser.

  ‘Dudley?’ she cried down the hallway. ‘I’ve found your pipe.’

  He charged down the hall towards her. ‘What on earth is it doing there?’ he asked in bemusement, picking up the pipe and shaking his head in despair as if somebody had played an awful trick on him.

  Nina looked down at her phone and typed the following message to Justin.

  How on earth did you know where it was?

  But there was no reply from him.

  ‘Whatever happened to that lovely young lady your mother was always talking about?’ Edna Bowridge asked, the necessity to talk after a whole hour of silence proving too much for her. ‘Now what was her name? I’ve quite forgotten.’

  Dominic pressed his lips together and pretended not to hear as he got on with the portrait that seemed to be taking him an absolute age.

  ‘Kate, was it? No. May? No. That wasn’t it either. Oh dear, my memory’s fading like a photograph in the sun. Don’t grow old, Dominic.’

  ‘I’ll try not to,’ Dominic grinned.

  ‘FAYE!’ she shouted suddenly, making Dominic jump. ‘Am I right?’

  Dominic nodded.

  ‘Whatever happened to her?’

  ‘We broke up.’ Dominic heard his own voice but barely recognised it. It sounded hard and cold and he didn’t like it.

  ‘Oh.’ For a moment, Edna was quiet once more. ‘Well, that’s a shame, I must say. Your mother always liked Faye.’

  ‘She still does, Mrs Bowridge.’

  ‘But you don’t see her anymore?’

  ‘Well, I see her all the time,’ Dominic said. ‘She’s never away from the mill.’

  ‘Oh? What, you mean you’re still friends?’

  ‘Er, no – not exactly.’

  Edna’s eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘Then she’s seeing Alex?’

  Dominic almost dropped his paintbrush.

  ‘Sorry, dear. I must let you concentrate.’

  Dominic took a deep breath. ‘I’m almost finished.’

  Edna nodded. ‘I’m afraid not, Dominic. As far as romantic complications are concerned, you’ve only just begun.’

  Dominic couldn’t help dwelling on Edna’s words as he walked the short distance from the mill to The Folly later that afternoon. It was a week after his first painting session with Faye and he’d since spent hours looking at the image he’d painted. It was really coming along, and Faye hadn’t been quite such a fidget during their second session together.

  Catching his first glimpse of his beloved folly as he turned the corner, he thought about those last two hours they’d spent together. She’d arrived with her dark hair scraped back after a day’s gardening and her cheeks had been flushed.

  ‘Faye!’ Dominic had cried. ‘Your colouring’s way too high. We’ll have to let it calm down before we can begin. And do something with your hair. You can’t have i
t up like that.’

  She’d nodded and apologised profusely, saying she’d lost track of time whilst staking Olivia’s roses.

  ‘They’re looking glorious right now,’ she’d told him. ‘You must come and see them. There’s this fabulous pink one called “The Ingenious Mr Fairchild”. Isn’t that a brilliant name?’

  Dominic had nodded and said something vague whilst Faye had babbled on about other roses with equally bizarre names. Then he’d remembered that she always babbled when she was nervous. The first time he’d brought her home to the mill, she’d chattered her way through the whole of dinner. It was a wonder that she’d managed to eat anything at all because she’d filled the room with her inane prattle until Olivia had gently placed her hand on hers and calmed her down.

  ‘I’ve never really been obsessed with roses until I came to the mill,’ she’d continued, ‘but they really are the most terrific—’

  ‘Faye!’ Dominic had said.

  ‘Yes?’

  Dominic didn’t say anything, only held her gaze for a moment.

  ‘Oh,’ she said at last. ‘I’m babbling, aren’t I?’

  He’d given the tiniest of nods and then watched as she let her hair loose, allowing it to fall about her face in dark waves. For a moment he’d felt utterly lost, as if he’d spiralled back in time to the day when he’d first seen her do that during a trip to the Broads.

  They’d been walking through Wroxham and had stopped on the bridge, peering down at the boats below. The sun had come out and a light breeze had tickled their faces, and Faye had reached around and untied her hair, letting it blow around her face.

  ‘Dominic?’ she’d said. ‘Is this all right?’

  He’d been jolted back into the present, the vision of the teenage Faye being replaced by the real-life one before him.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Sit down.’

  He’d painted for just over two hours, with a break in the middle in which she drank coffee and he’d paced around, staring at the floorboards and absent-mindedly sorting through tubes of paint.

  ‘Are you okay? You look tired,’ she told him, when she sat back down.

  ‘Do I?’ he’d said, surprised by her attention. He wasn’t used to somebody caring about him in that way anymore.