Summer Season

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Summer Season Page 25

by Julia Williams


  Kezzie looked surprised to see Lauren at the door.

  ‘Sorry, I haven’t brought anything,’ she said. ‘I just wondered if you’d like to know how the meeting went.’

  ‘Oh yes, sure,’ said Kezzie. ‘Come on in.’

  Lauren came in and accepted the glass of wine that Kezzie offered her, and they chatted for a few moments about the Summer Fest, and laughed about Cynthia’s general outrage at the world in general. When she’d been there for ten minutes or so, Lauren plucked up her courage and said, ‘I’m sorry, Kezzie. I’m kind of here under false pretences. I was a bit worried that I might have offended you somehow.’

  ‘You? Offended me?’ Kezzie looked stricken. ‘Of course you haven’t.’

  ‘Oh, it seemed as though you were avoiding me,’ said Lauren.

  ‘No, not at all,’ said Kezzie. ‘I’ve been busy with Joel’s garden and the Memorial Gardens.’

  ‘So you’re OK with me and Troy then?’ said Lauren.

  ‘Well …’ Kezzie looked awkward – almost guilty.

  ‘Look, I know what you’re thinking,’ said Lauren. ‘And if it were the other way round, I’d be inclined to have the same opinion. Hell, I’m still not even quite sure I’m doing the right thing. I know I said I’d never have Troy back, but I do think he’s changed. And he’s so great with the girls, and he really does make me happy. It’s fantastic. Just what I always wanted it to be.’

  ‘Well, you know him best,’ said Kezzie. ‘So long as he doesn’t treat you badly again.’

  ‘Oh, he won’t,’ said Lauren fervently. ‘I know he won’t. This time, he’s staying for good.’

  ‘Well, that’s OK, then,’ said Kezzie.

  ‘Yes,’ said Lauren with a smile, ‘it is.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The weeks were speeding by and already June was upon them. There were only a few short weeks until Summer Fest and Lauren was looking forward to it. This year was proving to be hot and sunny, and Lauren couldn’t help feeling the weather was reflecting her mood. She was so happy to be with Troy and slowly getting used to her new life with him. They had never had much chance just to be together before – when they’d first met, it had been such a whirlwind, exciting, thrilling, but not real. Then it had all gone wrong, and they had barely been living together any time at all, when he walked out on her. But now, she felt they were really establishing themselves as a couple and their relationship was putting down solid roots.

  It was great having someone to share the little things with, like Izzie’s first tooth falling out and the girls learning to swim. She’d spent so long on her own with the twins, she appreciated having someone to talk to in the evenings most of all. Of course everything wasn’t perfect. Troy was hideously untidy and drank and smoked more than she liked, and he could be moody with the girls sometimes. He also had a habit of forgetting her rule about not smoking inside, which was particularly important in light of Izzie’s asthma. But they were quibbles. The children loved him, he made her happy. Life couldn’t be better.

  True, she saw less of Kezzie and Joel now, but that was inevitable. She was in a full-time relationship; it stood to reason she’d have less time with her friends. She did feel guilty that Kezzie was still working hard at maintaining the Memorial Gardens, and Lauren didn’t get much of a chance to help her, but she was sure Kezzie would understand.

  Eileen didn’t. She dropped in for coffee one day, when Troy was at work, and said, ‘Lauren, you are still on board for Summer Fest aren’t you? Only I hate to nag, but you’ve missed the last couple of meetings.’

  Lauren felt guilty about that. She and Troy had been out a fair bit recently. Even her mum was getting narky about being asked to babysit so often. ‘I do have a life you know,’ she said, ‘and don’t forget I’m going up to Manchester to see your auntie Jan soon. I can’t always drop everything for you’. With her mum away, and Troy working, Lauren hadn’t been able to go to the last meeting.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘of course I’m still involved. I won’t let you down. It’s just that I’ve been a bit busy, what with stuff on at the girls’ school and the pub.’

  ‘I know,’ said Eileen. ‘I appreciate things have changed for you recently. I just hope you’re not going to forget everything else. It’s easy to do when you’re in love.’

  ‘No, no, of course I won’t,’ said Lauren, feeling even more guilty. She had been neglecting her friends.

  ‘I’m sure you won’t,’ said Eileen. ‘But be careful. People can let you down. It would be a shame if you let Troy come between you and your friends.’

  ‘He won’t let me down,’ predicted Lauren, confidently.

  ‘Hmm, I thought that about Ted,’ said Eileen. ‘Convinced myself of it for years. And look how that turned out. I just don’t want you to get hurt.’

  ‘I won’t, don’t worry,’ said Lauren, ‘but I appreciate what you’re saying.’

  But after Eileen had gone, she did worry. Not about Troy leaving – she really didn’t think he would – but about her friends. She shouldn’t be feeling guilty all the time about not seeing them, should she? But she did. Lauren realized with a jolt that she hadn’t actually spoken to Kezzie beyond saying hello for the last three weeks. She should really do something about that. Maybe arrange to go out for a drink …

  An opportunity presented itself sooner than she thought, when Joel came to pick Sam up that evening.

  ‘You like tennis, don’t you?’ he said.

  ‘Love it,’ said Lauren (impressed despite herself that he knew that). ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ve got a couple of tickets for the first week of Wimbledon through work,’ said Joel, ‘but I can’t go, I’ve got too much on. I thought you and –’ he paused, as if uncomfortable saying the name ‘– Troy might like to go?’

  ‘Oh,’ said Lauren in surprise. ‘Well, that’s really kind. Troy isn’t a tennis fan though, he likes football more, but maybe Kezzie could come if you can spare her.’

  ‘I should think so,’ said Joel, ‘she’s doing more of a maintenance job in the garden right now.’

  ‘Right,’ said Lauren, ‘I’ll ask her.’

  Kezzie had just finished work for the day and was looking forward to a long soak in the bath. The weather was fantastically hot, which was both a curse and a blessing for gardeners. Kezzie was going a lovely nut brown – she couldn’t remember ever having such a great tan – but equally she was bored with lugging watering cans down the garden. She’d finally managed to persuade Joel to reinstate the ancient tap just outside the knot garden, which clearly had been used for that purpose, so at least she could water the plants properly. She was praying that with the heatwave the council wouldn’t suddenly introduce a hosepipe ban.

  But she was satisfied with her work. She’d completed the planting out of the knot garden, and now it was a question of time for it to take a proper shape. But the basics were there. She’d restored Edward’s heart-shaped pattern, with its huge heart at the centre and the interwoven initials of E and L. She’d recreated the gravel path that surrounded the central knot pattern, and dug out the borders around the edges, which were now overflowing with summer bedding: petunias, busy lizzies and lobelia. The pansies had all died back, but she knew they’d come back into their own in the autumn. She was proud of what she’d achieved and Joel had asked her to stay on and work on the main garden, which was in need of a radical overhaul. If she wanted to enter Chelsea, she already had something to show off. She had taken lots of pictures of both the garden and her designs, which she could send in with her entrance form in September. Thanks to working for Joel, she had gained the confidence to feel she had a garden worth entering.

  The bath was running downstairs when there was a knock on the door.

  Damn. Kezzie had gone upstairs to get undressed. She threw a dressing gown on and leapt back down the stairs.

  ‘Who is it?’ she called.

  ‘Only me,’ said Lauren’s voice. That was unusual. It had been we
eks since Lauren had called round. She was so loved up with Troy it was almost as though the rest of the world didn’t exist. Despite her misgivings about the relationship, Kezzie had to admit Lauren did look incredibly happy every time she saw her.

  ‘Hi,’ said Kezzie. ‘Come on in, sorry about the dressing gown, I’m just about to leap in the bath. How are you?’

  ‘Fine,’ said Lauren, ‘well more than fine, I’m great actually. And you?’

  ‘Yeah, all good too,’ said Kezzie. ‘I’ve nearly finished Joel’s garden, and I’m really pleased with it. You should come and see it some time.’

  ‘I should,’ said Lauren. She looked slightly tentative, as if she weren’t sure about something.

  ‘I was wondering, are you free next Tuesday?’

  ‘I’d have to let Joel know I can’t work that day,’ said Kezzie, ‘but I’m sure he won’t mind. Why?’

  ‘I’ve got tickets for Wimbledon is why,’ said Lauren. ‘Joel couldn’t go, so he gave them to me and Troy hates tennis, so I thought you might like to join me.’

  ‘Oh wow,’ said Kezzie. ‘I love Wimbledon. That would be fantastic.’

  ‘That’s fab,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m so glad you can come.’

  ‘Who’s going to have the girls?’ said Kezzie. Unlike her, Lauren couldn’t just up and leave things.

  ‘Troy’s going to look after them,’ said Lauren. ‘And Eileen very kindly offered to have Sam as well.’

  There was a pause, and then Lauren said in a rush, ‘I’m so sorry, Kezzie, I know I’ve hardly seen you recently but what with Troy and the girls, I don’t seem to have much time. You probably think I’ve been a pretty crap friend lately.’

  Kezzie might well have been thinking that, but given what had happened with her and Troy, she didn’t feel she was one to talk about being a loyal friend.

  ‘What can I say?’ she teased. ‘You’re a woman in love.’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ said Lauren, blushing. ‘So, no hard feelings, then?’

  ‘None at all,’ said Kezzie.

  ‘We can have a girlie day out,’ said Lauren, ‘to make up for it.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ said Kezzie. ‘Thanks. I’d love to come.’

  ‘Thanks for the tickets, Joel,’ said Kezzie, next day, when he came home with Sam.

  It had been another baking day, and she was exhausted but pleased with the progress she’d made. The garden was going to look fantastic by the time of the Summer Fest. She’d spent the day mainly tidying things up: weeding the flowerbeds, snipping the box, ivy and rosemary and entwining them round one another so they retained their shapes. She’d also planted the symbols that Edward had chosen to represent his children, in the outside patterns of the design: gardenia for the babies who’d died, petunias for Connie, white carnations for Harry and peonies for Tilly. And as the pièce de résistance, she planted a pink rose, as a symbol of married love in the centre of the garden. It was extremely satisfying and rewarding. Kezzie didn’t think she’d ever been prouder of a garden she’d worked on.

  Joel looked as tuckered out as she did.

  ‘Oh, no problem. Glad they’re not going to waste.’

  ‘You look shattered, if you don’t mind my saying,’ said Kezzie.

  ‘I am,’ said Joel, pulling a face. ‘Work’s pretty stressful right now. With all these government cuts to funding I’m having to ask all the people who run our services to make savings. And every saving they make impinges on someone’s actual life. It’s pretty dispiriting. If I could only see a way out of it I would.’

  ‘Sounds grim,’ said Kezzie. ‘I’m so glad I’m doing something for myself now. It’s much more satisfying.’

  ‘Sadly, I don’t have much choice in the matter, although I do dream about setting up in business restoring old furniture. Maybe one day I will,’ said Joel. ‘Do you have to rush off? I promised Sammy boy a splash in the paddling pool before bedtime. I was just going to chill on the patio and have a Pimms. Do you fancy joining me?’

  ‘It’s so hot, I brought something to change into, but I’m a bit muddy,’ said Kezzie. ‘I feel like I’ve had a dust bath with one of your sparrows.’

  ‘Have a shower,’ said Joel. ‘You know where the bathroom is, don’t you? There are spare towels in the cupboard on the landing.’

  By the time Kezzie emerged, half an hour later, Joel had made up some Pimms and lit a barbecue, while Sam tottered in and out of the paddling pool, sitting down occasionally. The evening was clear and calm and achingly hot.

  Sam was clearly enjoying sitting on the pool seat, tipping buckets of water on his head.

  Joel looked up from where he was busy grilling sausages to see Kezzie walk towards him in a flattering but simple halter-neck dress. Joel nearly dropped the sausage he was holding.

  ‘Are you all right? Only you look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Joel swallowed. ‘Stupid of me. The dress you’re wearing. Claire had one like it. You’re not at all like her. It was just suddenly in the light …’

  ‘Shall I go home and change into something else?’

  ‘No, no, you’re OK,’ said Joel, pulling himself together. ‘Come on, tea’s ready.’

  But he couldn’t shake the melancholy feeling that had overcome him from the minute he saw Kezzie in that dress. And when he’d finally put a protesting Sam to bed, he came down and sank heavily into his chair. Gratefully he noticed that Kezzie had cleared up for him. They sat in silence for a few minutes when Kezzie suddenly said, ‘You can talk about her you know. Only I noticed you never do.’

  Joel ran his hands through his hair.

  ‘You could talk about Richard and you don’t,’ said Joel.

  ‘Touché,’ said Kezzie. ‘But that’s different. He’s not dead.’

  ‘No one wants to hear about my grief,’ said Joel. ‘People move on. It embarrasses them.’

  ‘Well I do,’ said Kezzie. ‘For a start it seems to me that you beat yourself up about her unnecessarily. Why?’

  ‘Now that I really don’t want to discuss,’ said Joel. ‘I told you how everyone thinks I was the perfect husband and dad. And nothing could be further from the truth. You wouldn’t think much of me if I told you how it really was.’

  ‘Try me,’ said Kezzie.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Joel didn’t look at Kezzie, but stared into the gathering darkness. Its warmth gathered him up and enveloped him. Somehow it was easier to talk if he just imagined no one was listening.

  ‘I don’t know where to start, really,’ he said. ‘It’s just, what you’ve done here. It’s what I wanted to do for Claire, and she never really got it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, I can see it now of course. This was my dream, not hers.’ Joel could see all too clearly now that Claire had never really wanted to come to Lovelace Cottage; she had only done it to keep him happy. If she hadn’t died, maybe he would have changed her mind, but for the time she was here, she hated it. ‘Plus, she was caught up with a small baby while I was working all hours. And when I was home, I was either doing DIY or digging up the garden. And when we moved in the house was such a mess. It was so dark and gloomy. Claire hated it, and I couldn’t persuade her it had potential.’

  ‘And …’

  ‘That’s it, really,’ said Joel. ‘I completely shut her out of what I was trying to do. I thought she didn’t care and was being unsupportive. Looking back, I can see it was the other way round. There she was with a tiny baby. She needed me and I let her down.’

  ‘She may not have thought that.’

  ‘Oh, but she did.’ Joel looked up at Kezzie, his eyes filled with pain. He remembered the fierce, bitter rows when Claire accused him of caring more about the house than her and the baby, and he – to his shame – had told her that she loved Sam more than she did him. ‘We argued about it all the time. And I kept promising to make it up to her. And of course I never did. It seems bloody pathetic now, but I was jealous of her relationship with S
am. I hated coming home. I felt shut out and excluded.

  ‘One night I’d promised I’d be home early from work but I never made it. I ended up going for a drink and got home later than I intended. Claire was furious. She’d cooked me a lovely meal, and I’d gone and ruined everything. We rowed. She went to bed. I drank myself into a stupor. And in the morning …’

  ‘You couldn’t have known what would happen,’ said Kezzie, holding out her hand to him. ‘You shouldn’t beat yourself up about it.’

  ‘It was worse than that,’ Joel swallowed hard. ‘You see there was a girl at work …’

  He remembered it all so clearly. Fi Tatton had been a serial flirt. And rumour had it she had shagged nearly every man in the building. Joel was one of the few notches left unmarked on her bedpost, apparently. She’d made no secret of the way she felt about him, and the fact that he was married hadn’t seemed to bother her. Normally he avoided her like the plague, but that night, despite having promised Claire he’d be home early, he’d been persuaded to go for a drink after work. ‘After all,’ Fi had said, putting her arm in his and leaning in too close, ‘what harm can one drink do?’

  Rewind. If only he could rewind. So that night he’d come home on time, and they’d had the evening Claire wanted. Instead, every time he thought about her, he remembered not the good things: not the way she looked as she laughed, or the smell of her perfume, or the way she flicked her fair hair back, but the disappointment in her eyes and the knowledge that he had let her down.

  ‘So what happened?’ prompted Kezzie.

  ‘I went to the pub, and of course I didn’t stay for one drink, but several,’ said Joel. ‘And one thing led to another …’

  He’d looked at his watch, seen the time, and gone out to grab a taxi, cursing himself because he’d have to come back for the car the next day. He knew he’d had too much to drink, and he’d spent the evening trying to avoid Fi’s less than subtle attempts to make a move on him. And then there she was, standing outside the pub with him while he waited for the cab he’d rung. He burned with shame when he remembered their passionate kisses; the way he’d thrown caution to the wind knowing Claire was going to be cross anyway, and imagining they had a whole lifetime to sort things out.

 

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