One Last Summer at Hideaway Bay

by Zoe Cook

  ‘I’m going to see him in a bit,’ Lucy said. ‘Do you want to come?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ Tara said, sweeping behind the counter, ‘I’ll leave you two to it. Can you give him my love, though? Tell him I’ll see him back at home.’

  ‘Sure,’ Lucy said. ‘Of course.’

  The door of the café opened with a slight creak and Lucy went to call out that they had closed early tonight. She looked up and saw Annabel standing in the doorway; she looked incredibly glamorous in a snakeskin-print black dress and gold high heels.

  ‘Hi,’ Annabel said, meekly, to Lucy. She looked at Tara. ‘Hi, Tara.’

  ‘Hi,’ Tara said, looking unmoved by the sight of the girl who had given her facial wounds a few nights earlier.

  ‘I came to apologise,’ Annabel said, walking a little closer.

  ‘Sure,’ Tara said. She sounded like a little girl. Lucy felt protective of her.

  ‘No, I really mean it,’ Annabel carried on, a pleading tone to her voice. Lucy suddenly wanted her to go away. It wasn’t the time for this.

  ‘I didn’t mean to punch you,’ Annabel said, looking away, almost smiling. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Tara said. She carried on sweeping, as if to signal to Annabel that the conversation was over.

  ‘It’s just complicated,’ Annabel said. ‘I don’t suppose Olly told you how serious we were, but it wasn’t just a casual fling, if that’s what he said. We were together for nearly three months.’

  Annabel sounded so pathetic it made Lucy cringe a little for her. She didn’t know where to look and wished she wasn’t standing here witnessing this exchange. Tara didn’t say anything, but this only seemed to rile Annabel, who took another step towards her.

  ‘And then when we slept together again last month, well, I just thought maybe things were going to go somewhere again. And then I saw you two, and – oh, sorry, did he not tell you about last month?’

  Tara had stopped sweeping and it was written all over her face that Annabel’s revelation was news to her, news that hurt.

  ‘Anyway, I’m sorry. I hope you two are happy together. Just watch him, because he’s a total dickhead.’ With this, she turned to leave. She turned back after a couple of steps and looked at Lucy now, confused. ‘Lucy, you’re still here? I thought you were leaving. Tom proving too hard to resist after all, huh? Well, it’s cool. Come and see me in the shop. I’ve got a top I think you’ll like. See ya!’ Annabel walked out of the café and pulled the door shut with a bang.

  ‘She’s just being a spiteful bitch,’ Lucy said to Tara, who had tears running down her cheeks.

  ‘Do you think that’s true? About last month?’ Tara said, quietly.

  ‘No, I don’t think it is, but I think you should speak to Olly,’ Lucy said. ‘Trust me, don’t waste time wondering whether, and what if, and whatever. Just speak to him, find out the truth and go from there. I saw him kiss you earlier, Tara. I don’t think he’s got eyes for anyone else. I think he adores you.’ Lucy meant it. She’d looked into Annabel’s eyes as she’d let her little secret slip and she’d had the look of a snake about her. It was strange seeing her in this new, unpleasant light. It was strange feeling such fierce loyalty to Tara.

  ‘It’s not important, anyway,’ Tara said, clearly trying to pull herself together. ‘I’m sorry you had to see that. How embarrassing. And you need to get to the hospital. I’ll finish up here. You go.’

  ‘Are you sure? Thanks, that’s really kind.’ Lucy gave Tara a quick hug, then untied her apron and dropped it into the laundry bag by the kitchen door.

  Out on the street she saw Annabel standing outside the pub, smoking and laughing with another glamorous girl who Lucy didn’t recognise. She spotted Lucy and called her over. Lucy walked over calmly and asked, ‘What was that about in there?’

  ‘What?’ Annabel said, smiling but obviously slightly cross.

  ‘What you said to Tara. Is it true?’ Lucy felt the early buzz of anger in her chest.

  ‘Ha, well, sort of,’ Annabel laughed, clinking her glass of wine against her friend’s. ‘She deserved a bit of a shock, the little slag.’

  Without thinking, Lucy took the glass of white wine from Annabel’s hand and tipped it straight over her freshly blow-dried hair.

  ‘Whoops’ she said, as Annabel stood, dripping with Sauvignon blanc, in such shock at what happened that she couldn’t say a word.

  Lucy walked away quickly, the realisation of what she had done settling with each step, her heart pounding. At the entrance to the path leading towards the house, she felt a car’s headlights sweep over her, flashing on and off. Someone was calling her name. She turned around towards the lights, which blinded her. The car dipped its headlights towards the sand and the passenger door opened. The silhouette walked towards her and she suddenly recognised the voice calling her name in the darkness. It was Tom’s mum.

  38

  Sarah held Lucy in a tight squeeze, smelling her hair and kissing her head. Lucy felt twelve years old again.

  ‘Oh Lucy,’ she said, eventually letting go. ‘It’s so good to see you. How are you?’

  Lucy felt overcome by the emotion of seeing Sarah again like this, because of this. It was horrifically surreal.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Lucy said. It was second time in her life that it had become the hardest question to answer – how are you?

  ‘Can we drive you to the hospital?’ Sarah gestured towards the car. Neil lifted a hand in greeting.

  ‘That’d be great, thanks,’ Lucy replied, walking towards the car, Sarah’s hand on her back.

  Lucy sat in the back of the Freelander, the bumpy Hideaway Bay roads giving way to larger, smoother, dual carriageways and lights speeding overhead. Sarah asked Lucy about London, about her job, about Claire. It was comforting speaking to her. She had a way of never sounding judgmental and she was so calm. She had always been calm.

  ‘And Tom’s told you what’s going on with him?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Lucy said, the realisation dawning all over again. She lowered her window slightly to let some fresh air in.

  ‘And you met Dr Jenkins? He’s a good man.’ Sarah’s voice caught.

  ‘He’s really not going to get better, is he?’ Lucy asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

  ‘No, love’ Neil said. ‘He’s not.’ There was something like frustration in his voice.

  ‘We are so glad you all came together like this,’ Sarah said, clearly trying to lift the tone. ‘When Tom insisted we went back to France, it felt awful, but then he said you were all going to come to the house, and, well, I suppose I sort of understood.’

  ‘He didn’t tell us he was ill,’ Lucy said. ‘We only found out when he got taken to the hospital.’

  ‘Yes, I gathered that, stubborn boy,’ Sarah said, fondly. She was so proud of Tom, always had been – he was her only son.

  ‘He missed you,’ Sarah said. ‘He always missed you. We all did. I’m so glad to have you back here, even if it is only for a few more days.’

  Lucy didn’t reply. The prospect of returning to London felt so alien, almost ridiculous, now. She wouldn’t go, at least not right away. She would cancel her train.

  Tom’s room was overflowing with flowers and baskets of cakes and biscuits. Lucy picked up a couple of cards, read names she didn’t recognise, as his parents hugged him on his bed.

  ‘I’ve never been so popular,’ Tom said, watching Lucy. ‘Come here’.

  Lucy went to his side and he raised his arm for her to lean against his chest. She kissed him instinctively on the lips, then remembered with minor embarrassment that his parents were there. Tom didn’t seem fazed, taking hold of Lucy’s hand as they discussed France, his parents’ journey over here, and, eventually, his current condition.

  ‘They’re letting me go home,’ Tom said, attempting a smile. Lucy examined his face as he spoke, the little lines around his mouth, his sparkling eyes.

  ‘We’ve spoken to Karen,’ Sarah
said. ‘She’s available straight away. She can come to the hospital tomorrow to meet with your medical team.’

  ‘Karen is Tom’s nurse,’ Neil explained to Lucy. ‘She’s cared for him at home for the last year, as and when we’ve needed her.’

  Tom looked embarrassed, Lucy thought.

  ‘Don’t worry, she’s not hot,’ Tom’s eyes lit up a little with this. ‘She’s an old lady nurse.’

  ‘She’s MY age!’ Sarah exclaimed, mock hurt in her voice. It was so strange, Lucy thought, the way they were bantering, as if this were normal to all be sitting around his hospital bed.

  ‘How is the café?’ Tom asked Lucy, raising her hand to his mouth and kissing it lightly.

  ‘It’s good,’ Lucy said. ‘Tara sends her love. Actually, everyone sends their love.’

  ‘Lovely Tara,’ Neil said. ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘She’s, you know, doing alright,’ Lucy said. No one was really okay any more.

  ‘I bet you two get on like a house on fire. What a pair!’ Sarah smiled at Lucy, who cringed again at the memory of how much she’d mistrusted Tara to begin with.

  Lucy went to the reception area to buy coffee for everyone, the Costa stand still busy with late-night visitors. She wanted to give Tom and his parents some time alone, so seeing the queue, she headed outside to get some fresh air. The nights were getting cooler, she noticed, pulling her grey knitted cardigan around her front, shivering slightly. Her phone beeped and she retrieved it to read a message from Nina asking how Tom was. Poor Nina had been in a total state since the incident on the cliff. It had shaken her more than Lucy would have expected; she’d hardly left the house since. Kristian was dealing with it in his own way, still surfing every morning, heading out in the early hours, spending far longer than usual in the water before coming home exhausted. Looking after Nina seemed to give him a way of channeling it all. Lucy recognised that need to do something; it was why she’d been so glad to work in the café. It was as if she had this whole new energy source born from a total fear and shock. If she didn’t do something with it she would go crazy.

  She imagined Tom coming home, a nurse looking after him. It was such an alien concept. And what was actually going to happen? Would he get sicker and sicker and fade away there at home? Or would it be dramatic? Would he end up back in hospital, machines pumping drugs into him, doctors rushing around with clipboards? She didn’t know if she could ask Tom, or his parents. What the hell is the etiquette?, she wondered.

  Back in his room, coffees distributed, Lucy sat on the chair next to Tom and listened to him speak to his parents about the café. He wouldn’t be able to return to work, but he was adamant he could run the stock and finances from home. Neil said he could put some hours in in the café and Lucy reiterated that she was happy to help too.

  ‘Are you going back to London?’ Tom asked, matter-of-factly.

  ‘No,’ Lucy said, suddenly sure of her answer. ‘No, I’m calling work tomorrow to tell them I’m not coming back.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ Tom said, genuinely.

  ‘I know, but I want to,’ she said. ‘I can’t just walk back into that life, not now, and not without you. If things were different, then – ‘ she stopped herself. What was the point talking about a life that wasn’t as heartbreakingly awful as this?

  ‘Well, that’s brilliant news,’ Sarah said. ‘You are obviously welcome to stay with us for as long as you like. It will be like old times,’ Sarah said. ‘Hopefully with a little less sneaking into Tom’s room in the middle of the night.’ She laughed at the memory.

  ‘Thank you,’ Lucy said.

  ‘God, you look like your mum,’ Neil said from the corner of the room. He’d been studying Lucy as she spoke.

  ‘Dad – ‘ Tom said, sounding embarrassed.

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ Lucy said. ‘No one’s told me that for a long time. I used to love being told I had her eyes.’

  ‘It’s uncanny,’ Neil said. ‘Like having her in the room.’

  Sarah let out a sob and Neil looked suddenly sorry for having brought up ghosts of the past.

  ‘Sorry, love,’ he said, reaching an arm around her.

  ‘It’s okay, I just need to… ‘ Sarah stood up, dabbing her eyes with a tissue from her handbag. ‘Fresh air. I just need fresh air.’ She left the room and Lucy thought she heard her crying as she walked away. It was the saddest sound she’d ever heard and made tears form in her own eyes, and her throat closed up slightly.

  ‘Look, I’m going to go and make sure your mum’s okay,’ Neil said, standing too. He put a hand on Tom’s chest, and then, in an act that seemed utterly beautiful to Lucy, leant down and kissed his son on the head. A nurse walked in as Neil left, smiling at Lucy, and handing Tom a small paper pot of pills, which he knocked straight back, chasing them with water from the table next to his bed.

  ‘Are you staying with us tonight?’ the nurse asked Lucy, taking her by surprise.

  ‘Oh, I, um, I don’t know, can I?’ she looked at Tom, then back at the nurse, unsure of who she was asking.

  ‘Of course you can,’ the nurse said. ‘Let me sort something out. I think we’ve got another bed free. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  She left the room and Lucy turned to Tom. ‘Do you want me to stay? Is that okay?’

  ‘I never want you to leave,’ he said. She ran her hand through his hair and kissed him again.

  The nurse managed to wheel another bed into the room and line it up next to Tom’s to create a makeshift double.

  ‘Romantic,’ Tom joked, as she took her dress off and climbed under the slightly hard sheets in her underwear.

  Tom’s parents had popped back in to say goodbye. They were coming back in the morning to pick Lucy up, hopefully Tom too, if they would discharge him. Lucy snuggled into Tom’s warm body, kissing his chest as he stroked her hair.

  ‘I’m so sorry’ he said. ‘I never wanted to hurt you.’

  ‘Don’t say sorry to me, Tom,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for. I just want you. I just wish things were different. How am I going to be okay without you?’

  ‘You’re going to do great things, Luce,’ he said, running his hand down her side. ‘I know you will do something extraordinary.’

  ‘I don’t want to do anything without you,’ she said, crying now.

  ‘I know,’ he said, ‘I know.’ She felt him kiss her hair.

  Tom didn’t wake fully when the nurse arrived in the early morning to do her observations. Lucy pulled her dress on under the covers and slipped out of bed. She watched from the chair as the slightly stern-looking nurse took his blood pressure, writing down numbers from the display of the heart monitor above his head.

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ the nurse asked as she made her way to the door, surprising her with a warm smile.

  ‘No, thanks,’ Lucy said. ‘I’ll pop out.’

  It was 7am and the hospital held a sense of hushed anticipation, nurses and healthcare assistants bustling about the nurses’ station. Other early risers were wandering in search of coffee machines, sharing smiles with Lucy as she made her way down the corridor.

  Outside, the noise of the busy road the hospital was on seemed abrasively loud. Buses whooshed and squealed, impatient motorists beeped horns at slow green-light pull-aways. Lucy sat on a bench outside the main entrance. It was too early to be warm yet and she wished she’d brought her cardigan. She thought about calling Claire. She’d be up and about getting ready for work. But she couldn’t muster the energy. She hadn’t slept well, she felt almost jet lagged, separate from everything around her, existing in a different world. She decided to walk to find a café. Breakfast might make her feel more human. She vaguely recalled a greasy spoon somewhere down the road, towards the boys’ grammar school.

  The walk took longer than she’d anticipated and involved following the dual carriageway. The soundtrack of traffic blocked Lucy’s thoughts and was surprisingly soothing. She walked quickly, trying
to fight the cool morning air on her skin. The sun was still a pale, silvery yellow – not yet hot enough to burn off the last of the night air. Finally Lucy saw the gaudy candy-striped canopy of the café and she felt her stomach rumble in anticipation of food. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten.

  ‘Morning, love. What can I do for you?’ The large, bleach-blonde lady at the counter hovered over the buttons of her till.

  ‘I’ll have an egg-and-bacon roll, please,’ Lucy said, counting the coins from her wallet.

  Sitting in a plastic chair at a table fixed to the floor, she looked at the other diners in the café: a mixture of tradesmen and students, by the look of things. She wondered what she must look like, sitting there in yesterday’s beach dress, hair still in the messy bun she’d pulled it into before bed. It probably looks like a walk of shame, she thought, remembering the cruel truth. She wondered if Tom had been awake enough to register her kiss as she left this morning. He had stirred slightly and kissed her back. It seemed likely that he would be allowed home today. Home to die. The words forced their way into Lucy’s mind. She felt her stomach twist.

  ‘Cheer up, love, it might never happen,’ Lucy looked up to see a moronic grin looking back at her. She didn’t reply.

  ‘No need to be a bitch.’ The man, dressed in a garish high-vis jacket, was visibly cross now, unimpressed with her silence.

  ‘Please leave me alone,’ she heard her voice shake as she spoke. Who did this prat think he was?

  ‘Oh, you’re one of those hoity-toity, better than everyone, types, I see,’ he said, still standing over her, his large physical presence intimidating now. ‘Get over yourself, you stuffy cow’

  Lucy was about to stand to leave when the blonde lady from the counter arrived with her sandwich.

  ‘This one giving you bother, love?’ she asked, not looking at the tanned, wrinkly-faced man.

  ‘It’s okay. Can I just get this to go?’ she said, standing, handing the plate back.

  ‘Sure.’ The lady took it away and Lucy reached for her handbag from the table.

  ‘Look, love, just a bit of banter, alright?’ he was still talking to her. Lucy realized, with horror, that tears were now streaming down her face. She walked past him, brushing his arm as she left, wishing she could just tell him to fuck off, but lacking the strength.