‘Max is new to the village, just like the rest of us,’ Ashna explained to Serena, embarrassed she might have hit a nerve with her questions and gabbling to cover her concern.
‘No way!’ Serena replied. ‘A place for new beginnings – starting with this house, thank goodness. Max, I can hardly wait for you to begin!’
12.
JULY–AUGUST 1998
It had been two years since Serena had stayed with Freddie in Majorca and, although there had been no romance between them then or indeed any indication of it in their letters since, Serena had developed an unwavering crush. She was eighteen now and had just finished her A Levels when she received a beautiful wedding invitation in the post. Amber, one of Freddie’s sisters, was getting married in Majorca in August and, unbelievably, had invited Serena to the wedding. Her immediate thought was that Luna would be put out she hadn’t been included on the invitation, but then she remembered her sister was going to Greece with a friend and wasn’t due back until the day of the wedding. Enclosed with the stiff cream card was a scribbled note from Freddie:
‘Please come! I was allowed to invite a “plus one” and couldn’t think of anyone I’d love to have as a partner more than you. The invitation looks posh but the wedding won’t be conventional – Amber’s going to be barefoot with daisies in her hair. Let me know if you can make it. You’re welcome to come and stay for as long as you want. I’m on my gap year still and not yet off on any travels. Love Freddie x’
For the second time in only a few moments, Serena was astonished. ‘Love Freddie x’ was the most affectionate sign-off she’d ever received from him. He normally just wrote ‘Freddie’ – plain and simple. Serena’s heart began to dance with hope. Maybe, just maybe, this year would be different.
Serena emerged from the stiflingly hot Arrivals hall and peered around, hoping she’d still recognise her pen pal. She knew she hadn’t changed much herself. She was a little taller and slimmer now, perhaps, but her curly hair remained long and blonde, her face round and unadorned with make-up.
‘Serena!’ came a shout and all of a sudden he was there. Freddie. Immediately, he gathered Serena into a hug and lifted her up, spinning her round and round. She laughed, expecting him to find her heavy and put her down, but he didn’t. He carried on spinning her, oblivious to the crowds around them, and Serena stopped worrying about her weight or anyone else and tipped her head back, dizzy and joyful.
Eventually Freddie released her and took charge of the luggage trolley and they made their way out of the hall into the evening sunshine, gabbling away to each other as comfortable old friends always do. But as familiar as he was to her, Serena knew their friendship was no longer enough. In the car she studied him, observing his beautiful profile, trying to work out if he might have feelings to match her own. She had no idea if Freddie’s remarkable greeting was a sign of deeper feelings for her or simply an expression of his boundless, reckless energy.
An hour later, they had wound their way up to Deia, but instead of taking the turning to the farmhouse, the rusty old car took a left down towards the beach – Cala Deia. Freddie parked in the shade of some trees.
‘Come on then,’ he said. ‘Thought you might like to see the beach again before we head home. It’s total wedding chaos there and everyone will want your advice on what to wear.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Serena, smiling. She was not generally anyone’s sartorial muse. But she was happy with the turn of events. It was dusk. That wonderful time of day when holidaymakers traipsed up the hill from the beach, weary from roasting themselves all day long, but evening diners heading to Ca’s Patro March, the beachside seafood restaurant, had yet to arrive. It was quiet. The sun was low in the sky. They made it down to the beach and had settled themselves on some rocks when Freddie turned Serena towards him by gently tugging her hair. He kissed her.
‘I can’t believe it!’ Serena said, as they drew apart after a while. ‘I’ve fancied you forever,’ she told Freddie honestly. ‘But I thought it was one-sided.’
‘You’re kidding me,’ said Freddie, as he pulled Serena back towards him. ‘Serena, you’re blind. I’ve been in love with you since the first moment I met you. I remember you straightening your hair that time and I hated it because your curls are just so much a part of you. But I didn’t want to take advantage. I know you’re only a year younger than me, but it just felt wrong before. I was seriously tempted on a couple of occasions though, and you know what I’m like, I don’t usually think before I act. I think I just cared about you too much to do anything rash. But, Serena, you’re eighteen now. I don’t think anyone could call me dishonourable for letting my true feelings out at last.’
The days that followed were the happiest Serena had ever known. The farmhouse was abuzz with preparations for the wedding and, with so much going on, Freddie and Serena were able to come and go as they pleased. They spent long days at the beach sunning themselves and racing each other in the sea before heading back to the finca for late dinners with the family, then heading out to bars and finally tumbling into bed together in the early hours of the morning. Freddie’s mother Bobbi was truly bohemian and had no issue with Serena sharing a room with Freddie. She welcomed her back into the family as if she were another daughter.
Malcolm too was easy company and several magical evenings were spent sitting around a camp fire while he played retro tunes on his guitar, singing along with his gravelly voice to ‘Hotel California’, ‘House of the Rising Sun’ and Eric Clapton’s ‘Layla’, songs Serena would forever associate with those blissful, balmy evenings spent in such relaxed and loving company, Freddie’s arms around her as he buried his face in her hair.
One day, Serena borrowed Ebony’s bike and she and Freddie cycled up and down winding, precipitous roads and then off the beaten track, Serena determined to keep up with Freddie’s pace. By the time they reached the secluded café Freddie had in mind, she was beetroot-coloured and gasping for a drink. The café was seemingly in the middle of nowhere, although there were a few locals enjoying a drink, and it overlooked a stunning bay, equally hidden from the tourist trade. They seated themselves at a small plastic table with the best view and Serena ordered a Sprite. Never had a fizzy drink felt so refreshing. She wafted a menu in front of her face to try to cool it down and ignored the wobbly-jelly feeling in her thighs.
‘You just need a dip,’ Freddie said. ‘That’ll cool you down. We can climb down to the beach from here as soon as we’ve had some lunch.’
‘Perfect,’ Serena said. And it was. They enjoyed a meal that was as delicious as it was simple: grilled fish, served with a fresh green salad. They chatted comfortably, Serena full of questions about Freddie’s family, who intrigued her no end. They were all such characters, aside from Little Jane, who was sweet and shy.
‘Tell me,’ said Serena, taking another gulp of her drink. ‘Why is Little Jane called Jane when the rest of you have more unusual names? I’ve been wondering about it.’
‘Ah, well, she’s named after my mum’s sister. She died when Mum was expecting Jane. Mum was devastated about it, so she decided to name the baby after her. And, of course, Jane has always been teeny – just like our aunt – so she quickly became Little Jane.’
‘How sad,’ said Serena, frowning. ‘Puzzle solved, anyway. I love your family so much,’ she told him. ‘It feels like being gripped in a huge, warm hug being here with you all. You’re so lucky.’
‘I guess so, though it can be pretty intimidating having three sisters sometimes! How about your family? What are they like?’
‘Dad is reserved, but very warm and lovely. Mum is sweet, though she can be quite distant. She’s always ridiculously bothered about what people think. And my twin sister is . . . a handful, I guess you could call her. We’re complete opposites, even though we’re twins.’
‘Really? I imagined you’d be identical.’
‘We are, to look at. But not as characters. Anyway, hopefully you’ll meet them all at some poin
t. Blimey, the sun’s really heating up now, isn’t it? Shall we go for that swim?’
‘Sure, let me just pay the bill and we’ll go. You can make a start, if you want. Just be careful on the rocks.’
Serena edged down the rocks carefully, wondering where Freddie had got to. He was taking ages paying the bill. She reached the sandy cove below and looked up, expecting to see Freddie clambering down behind her. Instead, she saw he was standing dangerously close to the edge of the cliff above – not far from where they’d just enjoyed their lunch.
‘Freddie, what are you doing?’ she shouted up. She was starting to feel panicky. It made her feel a bit dizzy even looking at him. Her heart began to hammer.
‘Watch this!’ Freddie shouted from above and he jumped, his hands by his sides as he plunged into the sea. It must have been a drop of at least thirty feet. Serena waited in horror, hoping desperately Freddie would emerge. It seemed to take forever; she was almost in tears.
But eventually he shot up out of the water like a firework, whooping and hollering. He swam neatly through the waves and ran up the beach to Serena.
‘What the hell were you doing?’ Serena shouted. She was like a mother scolding a child who’s almost run under a bus. ‘You could have killed yourself !’
‘Hey, chill, Serena. It’s okay. I’ve done it before.’
‘But there must be rocks. It’s such a height. Freddie, you scared the life out of me.’
‘I’m sorry . . . It was stupid of me,’ he said, immediately contrite. ‘I was showing off. I didn’t stop and think that you’d be worried. Forgive me?’ he asked, his puppy-dog eyes beseeching her. Serena nodded, calmer now, and she was distracted soon enough as Freddie began to kiss her.
The next couple of hours were spent in the sea and, out of view of the café, making love on the beach with a new intensity that seemed to have been born of their first mild disagreement. And it really was love they made, Serena drinking in the scent of Freddie’s skin. He always seemed to smell of summer.
‘Tomorrow I’m taking you shopping,’ Freddie said as he shifted his position on the sand.
‘Really? What kind of shopping?’ Serena asked. She didn’t like to tell him she loathed shopping for clothes. She did like buying trinkets and treasures though, and she’d spotted some lovely shops that might sell just those kinds of things in Deia.
‘For a ring.’
Serena laughed. ‘A ring?’ she repeated.
‘Uh-huh. Look, you’ll think I’m crazy and I know I can be impulsive, but what about if we got married? Okay, maybe not right away,’ he added, as he clocked the mild alarm on Serena’s face. ‘But in a year, maybe? I know we’re young but, shit, I’m crazy about you, Serena, and I love the idea of getting married young, having loads of babies . . . What do you think?’
Serena felt a bit sick with panic – not because she didn’t feel the same, but at the thought of explaining a teenage marriage to her parents, although she supposed she wouldn’t be far off twenty in a year’s time. A million questions ran through her mind.
‘I’d love to,’ Serena told him honestly. ‘But what about our plans for university? And where would we live? And what about our parents?’
‘Such a stickler for practicalities,’ Freddie teased. ‘I don’t know the answers yet but we’ll sort it all out. All I know is that I’d like to return to Majorca after university. Could you bear that?’
‘That pretty much clinches the deal, regardless of my boring old practicalities. I absolutely love it here,’ Serena told him, smiling.
The very next day, Freddie bought her a ring. Not an engagement ring as such – an eternity ring of sorts from a charming bohemian jeweller’s up the hill, near the ancient church of San Juan.
‘Us, always,’ Freddie whispered as he pushed the ring onto Serena’s index finger. They were watching the sun set over the olive groves and Serena felt a lump in her throat.
She was floating in a bubble of bliss, too happy to even worry that it might eventually burst.
Having enjoyed nearly a month in Majorca, Serena had stupidly booked to return to England the day after Amber’s wedding. She hadn’t thought it through – she should have booked for the following day – but her flight wasn’t changeable. Still, she wasn’t going to let an early start deter her from enjoying herself.
And Amber’s wedding day was the most exquisite occasion from start to finish. The ceremony took place in the garden, right beside the orchard, where an array of beautifully coloured rugs had been scattered around for guests to sit on. Amber had decided she didn’t want to be given away so she arrived in the garden wearing a wispy cream dress made exclusively of lace and with a crown of daisies on her head. When she sashayed along the aisle of grass, Dan, her soon-to-be husband, ran towards her and whisked her into his arms. It was the most romantic thing Serena had ever seen and it seemed to affect all the guests – she’d never seen so many love-struck couples before. And as for her and Freddie, they were inseparable all night. Serena’s flight the next morning was at ten o’clock and they decided that to sleep was to waste time.
‘We’ll sleep when we’re dead,’ said Freddie, quoting his favourite heavy metal band. Every moment of life was to be seized, as far as Freddie was concerned. They arrived at Palma airport at eight, almost delirious with tiredness and, as Serena checked in, she thought Freddie must literally be delirious when he suddenly decided to buy a last-minute ticket to London and accompany Serena home.
‘Why not?’ he said, his delicious dark eyes red-rimmed but more gorgeous than ever. ‘I’ve got my passport – I always have it on me for ID. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you,’ he smiled, peeling notes from his wallet to pay for his ticket. Serena was incredibly flattered, knowing how hard Freddie had been working at various bars to earn that cash. But the relaxed persona she’d taken on in Majorca was starting to fade even before they’d landed in London. Bobbi and Malcolm may have been wonderfully bohemian, but her own parents were not and she was anxious Freddie would find her life abysmally dull and bourgeois compared to his Majorcan lifestyle, especially as they would have to sleep in separate rooms.
She needn’t have worried. Her mother was charmed by Freddie’s manners and good looks, her father was a quiet yet welcoming host, and Luna – well, Luna was the most charming of all.
13.
APRIL 2015
By Easter, the house had definitely turned a corner, Serena decided, as she stretched her aching back and surveyed the newly transformed garden. For one thing, as winter turned gently into spring, the house was warmer, especially as they kept the log burners roaring. For another, she and Pete had been grafting away in the garden for weeks and the exercise had transformed her – she was sleeping well and there was even some colour in her cheeks again. Serena could hardly believe how Pete’s clever layout (and back-breaking labour) had turned the enormous space from an overgrown field into a beautiful landscape divided into four sections. A large patio was now accessible from the kitchen, filled with terracotta pots brimming with spring flowers including pretty primroses and vibrant crocuses, and brick steps led up to a lawn with raised borders on either side. Here, an array of scented and variously coloured roses had been planted and Ashna enjoyed practising her yoga and meditation on the grass, beside an old apple tree. A newly clipped hedge crossed the middle of the lawn and an archway through it led to an open meadow. Currently, only the wild grasses were evident, with a path mown through them, but they’d scattered a selection of seeds and Pete had assured Serena that, by summer, the meadow would be bursting with wild flowers.
Pete had surprised them all with his incredible knowledge of horticulture. He was an expert on the famous gardener Gertrude Jekyll, and passionate about gardens, most particularly wild ones. Serena now knew all about the African daisies, baby blue eyes, dog violets, yellow celandines, bluebells and cornflowers that would emerge before they knew it.
At the far end of the garden, beyond the meadow, was an a
rea that was now given over to a large vegetable patch. It was this that had become Serena’s domain and she was thoroughly enjoying reading up on what to plant that was seasonal. Will was the cook in their household – he’d always been an excellent chef – but it was wonderful to think she’d soon be able to contribute something to their suppers.
It was now Good Friday and almost time for the sombre midday service. As always seemed to happen on this particular bank holiday, the sky had clouded over as the clock hands edged closer towards the moment of the crucifixion.
‘You guys had better finish up soon,’ Serena said to Ashna and Max, who were both in downward dog poses on the lawn. ‘Think it’s going to chuck it down before long.’
‘I’ve been telling her that for the last ten minutes,’ Max muttered. ‘We’re going to get soaked any minute. There, I felt a drop of rain. And Pete’s going to help me fix my van before lunch. I can’t keep him waiting . . .’
‘Don’t you dare move,’ Ashna scolded him. ‘Such a bad student. You were the one who told me your neck was hurting. I can help you, but not if you keep making excuses! Now, breathe!’
Serena laughed to herself. She’d never heard Ashna being so strict. She hurried inside to change for the service, swapping her gardening clothes for a long black skirt and a silver top, adding jingling silver bangles and the beautiful sea-green scarf Ashna had given her. She dabbed on a little lip gloss and dashed into the study, where she found Will putting the final touches to his sermon.
‘You look beautiful,’ Will said, looking up at Serena and putting his papers away.
‘Thank you, my darling, but come on,’ she said. ‘The vicar can’t be late!’
‘True,’ he laughed. ‘But then again, they can’t start without me.’ Serena smiled at his oft-used joke.
Home for Winter Page 6
