The Summer We Ran Away: From the author of uplifting women’s fiction and bestsellers, like The Summerhouse by the Sea, comes the best holiday read of 2020!

by Jenny Oliver

  ‘Did Lexi write that?’ he asked, even though it was obvious she had.

  Just the week before, Lexi had WhatsApped the Cedar Lane Group the message:

  Sorry to do this, guys, but re parking. I know the space outside MY house is not technically mine but I think we should RESPECT people’s right to park in front of their OWN houses. In my last street we did this as an unwritten rule and it worked REALLY well!! Lexi xxxx

  Charlie shook his head. ‘She can’t stick things on people’s vans. She doesn’t own the street.’

  Normally Julia would agree, but she knew the effort Lexi had gone to for this party and she could forgive her for wanting it all to be perfect. As Julia’s father would say, woe betide anyone who got in her way.

  They walked up the path together, Julia wowed by the effort of the decorations, Charlie still shaking his head, incredulous about the van sticker.

  Charlie had changed his top to the polo shirt and only after a massive row had conceded to wear his green shorts that doubled as swimming trunks, but still flatly refused to get in the tub. Julia had her new bikini on under a new white dress with a floaty skirt – both of which she’d bought in H&M but they were exact copies of more expensive ones she couldn’t afford – and a new pair of white Superga plimsolls that she had stumbled upon in TK Maxx and almost wept for joy. She had tried to thread a white ribbon into her hair like she’d seen on Pinterest but she’d run out of time to do it properly and in the time she had it looked a shambles. As a result of being overworked, her hair had gone annoyingly flat.

  ‘I’ve never seen that dress before,’ said Charlie as they waited for the door to open.

  Julia shrugged. ‘Oh I’ve had it for ages,’ aware that they weren’t meant to be spending.

  Charlie nodded, still studying her.

  ‘What?’ Julia asked, conscious that she was being watched.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, then after a second’s contemplation added, ‘It’s just not very you.’

  Julia rolled her eyes. ‘You’re meant to say I look very nice.’

  ‘You do look nice. Just not very you.’ Charlie shrugged.

  Julia was about to reply when the door was thrown open and suddenly Hamish Warrington was there, arms thrown wide as he called, ‘Julia! Charlie! Come in! Come in!’ And Julia found that she couldn’t speak – all hot suddenly and flustered by the sight of him and the memory of her dreams – as he pulled her into a big warm hug.

  Hamish was decked out completely in white linen – shorts and shirt – with white flip-flops. Charlie looked him up and down as he pumped Charlie’s hand in greeting, and said dryly, ‘That’s a brave outfit choice.’

  Hamish barked a laugh, bright white teeth chewing on something or nothing as he gave Charlie a hearty pat on the shoulder, ‘Good to have you here, Charlie old boy.’

  Julia was still all flustered, pulling awkwardly at her dress, trying to balance the Tupperware of cakes which had the effect of making her feel a bit frumpy and self-conscious in front of Hamish. At the same time, she steadfastly avoided Charlie’s sideways mocking glance as he tried to get her on side with regards to Hamish’s white linen ensemble.

  They followed Hamish as he led them through the hallway with its hot pink walls and acid yellow staircase – 954 Instagram likes the day it was painted – and into the kitchen.

  As they walked into the room, it was apparent that there had been no scrimping on the decorations. Puffballs of tissue paper hung from the ceiling like giant pompoms, vases of white lilies graced every table and surface, on the floor were big glass urns of coiled fairy lights. Impeccably dressed waiting staff and caterers were busy arranging platters of food and uncorking champagne.

  In the centre of all the action was Lexi, in a spaghetti-strapped, figure-hugging, floor-length gown of shimmering white sequins that she’d had shipped over from the States. She was leaning up against the pale turquoise herringbone tiles of her kitchen island, selfieing with Alicia Fox from number twenty-four and Nicky Merryweather from number seventeen, their matching blonde hair intertwining as they all pressed their cheeks together.

  Julia had to pause to take a courage-mustering breath. She was really regretting arriving with a giant Tupperware now. They were all so glamorous, so effortlessly cool. They made her feel like the awkward new girl at school, desperate to belong. Nicky Merryweather was nice enough, but Alicia Fox always made Julia uncomfortable. Like there was a joke she’d missed. Whenever she saw Lexi, Julia definitely preferred it when Alicia wasn’t there.

  ‘Julia, darling! You look gorgeous.’ Lexi sprang forward from the embrace with the other two blondes, her dress catching the light like a glitter ball. ‘Are those my cakes?’

  Julia nodded, handing over the cakes, grateful to relinquish the Tupperware. ‘You look amazing,’ she said to Lexi.

  ‘Ohh,’ said Lexi, waving away the compliment with faux-modesty. ‘Well I never get to dress up nowadays. Two kids will zap away that kind of sparkle!’

  Everyone smiled and nodded even though they all knew it was a lie – Lexi had a wardrobe bursting with designer dresses and festival fancy dress, and never failed to wow with her Halloween costumes – but she had the power to make everyone happily complicit.

  She lifted the lid off the plastic box of little cakes. ‘These are divine, Julia. You’re a superstar,’ she said, immediately taking a photo of the dainty frosting, showing them to Nicky and Alicia, who both oohed politely, then passed them over to the caterer who was putting together canapés with an air of tautly controlled calm.

  Julia watched as the harassed caterer shoved the cakes to one side.

  ‘Now, drinks!’ Lexi clapped her hands together. ‘There’s a gin bar outside where they are making negronis and the most divine gimlets. They serve them with little red peppercorns – out of this world. Or on the table in the other room there’s champagne and rosé. And for the boys, beer in a barrel by the hot tub.’

  Charlie was straight outside.

  Nicky said, ‘Oh I’d kill for some bubbles,’ and drifted over to the champagne table in the lounge. Julia hovered in the kitchen by Alicia. Lexi had zoned out for a second, editing the pictures she’d just taken for Instagram. ‘God I shouldn’t be doing this now,’ she said, still deep in her phone.

  Leaning against the counter, Alicia was wearing white cut-off denim shorts, two thin gold necklaces, and a white silk vest top, looking perfectly, expensively, dishevelled. The simplicity of it made Julia feel instantly like she’d tried too hard in her flouncy dress and new trainers.

  Alicia looked Julia up and down. ‘Nice dress,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Julia, self-consciously straightening out the skirt.

  ‘Is it new?’ Alicia asked.

  Julia shook her head, ‘No I’ve had it for ages,’ she said, trying to match Alicia’s indifference, all blasé and like she hadn’t spent every lunchtime for two weeks shopping for something white-hot. There was a bag of clothes under her desk ready to be returned after the bank holiday.

  ‘Really?’ said Alicia, mouth tilting up, that same expression that Julia dreaded. ‘I’m sure I saw it in the window of Whistles the other day.’

  Julia made a face like she was none the wiser, especially as this was the H&M rip-off of the Whistles version, but she doubted Alicia had ever set foot in an H&M, she was a Notting Hill boutique kind of shopper. ‘Maybe one like it,’ Julia said as casually as she could, cursing herself for lying.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Alicia with clear disbelief.

  Julia could tell her cheeks had flushed.

  Pushing languidly off the kitchen island Alicia said, ‘Come on, Lexi, it’s your party, you can’t be on your phone all night.’

  ‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ said Lexi, hurriedly finishing her post then clicking her phone off. ‘Right, that’s enough of that. No more time-wasting, a hot tub is calling,’ she laughed. ‘Oh Julia you got the trainers!’ she said, noticing Julia’s feet for the first time.

 
Julia blushed again. ‘Yeah, I wanted to go for the other style, you know, so they weren’t exactly the same as yours but,’ she scrabbled for an excuse not to mention the bargain TK Maxx price, ‘they didn’t have my size.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Lexi grinned, looping her arm through Julia’s and leading her out into the garden. ‘They look fab!’

  Alicia sauntered along behind, Julia sensing her hawk-like judgement. They picked up Nicky on her way through who was flirting with a waiter as he topped up her champagne flute.

  Outside was magical. Like the Snow Queen’s palace. Strings of white outdoor bulbs crisscrossed the piercing blue sky from the corner of the house to the giant conifers at the far end of the garden. Between the firs, a whitewashed shack had been built to house the gin bar. The waiters outside were all sun-bleached surfer cool. They looked barely old enough to drink and were dressed in sleeveless white T-shirts, boardshorts and white bow-ties, working their magic with Sipsmith gin. Across from that, the hot tub bubbled under a giant white sailcloth stretched between scaffold poles for shade. A suckling pig was being roasted over a firepit by a burly hipster in a leather apron ready for a late lunch. The patio was a dance floor, there was a DJ in wraparound sunglasses, there were white helium balloons, flaming Tiki torches, and giant white floor cushions and shisha pipes next to a spray-painted sign that read, ‘chill-out zone’.

  Julia recognised all the faces from the Cedar Lane WhatsApp group. Practically the whole street was there, except for a few undesirables who had never been invited to join the group. And then dotted around were some of Lexi’s friends who Julia didn’t know.

  Charlie was standing by himself with his beer. In his white polo shirt he did look like a lost schoolboy.

  Lexi, Julia, Nicky and Alicia walked towards him, in the direction of the hot tub, and as they passed, Lexi said, ‘Fancy a dip, Charlie?’

  Charlie winced. ‘Nah, I’m OK thanks.’

  ‘Oh come on,’ Lexi cajoled, grabbing his hand and dragging him a few steps.

  Hamish came to join them, yanking his shirt off over his head to reveal the washboard abs that had featured so heavily in Julia’s dreams. ‘Don’t know about you, but I am ready to get wet!’ he laughed.

  Lexi giggled.

  Julia had to look away. She could feel heat rising up her neck making it go a blotchy red. She was torn between the prestige of being a part of Lexi’s elusive inner-circle and the awkwardness of having to sit rigidly aware next to Hamish, in her swimsuit.

  Alicia stepped out of her denim shorts. Nicky wriggled her white bodycon dress over her head.

  Julia was next to Charlie. Both of them standing watching. ‘Shall we just get in, Charlie?’ she said, hovering on the cusp of indecision.

  ‘No,’ Charlie flatly refused. ‘I told you, I have no interest in hot tubs.’

  Hamish looked over. ‘Come on, Charlie, old boy, everyone loves a hot tub.’

  Charlie shook his head. ‘Not me.’

  Alicia had peeled off her top and was climbing into the frothy water, yelping as the bubbles touched her skin. Nicky splashed her. ‘You bitch,’ Alicia laughed.

  ‘Hamish, honey, can you just unzip my dress,’ Lexi called, holding her hair up from her back to reveal the zip.

  ‘Come on, Charlie,’ Lexi ordered, tying her hair into a big bun on top of her head, ‘don’t be a spoilsport.’

  Charlie made a face. ‘I don’t mind being a spoilsport.’

  Julia found herself being drawn to the water, to the fun. ‘Come on,’ she said, inching closer.

  ‘Why?’ asked Charlie, expression bemused.

  Something about Charlie’s refusal was egging Julia on. ‘To get you out of your comfort zone,’ she suggested.

  Charlie made a face. ‘I like my comfort zone. It’s comfortable,’ he said. ‘Why would I want to be uncomfortable?’

  Julia stared at him for a second, then back at the water where everyone was frolicking with giggling abandon. Getting into the hot tub felt suddenly like a statement against being trapped by convention, it felt like it stuck two fingers up to their spreadsheet and Meryl’s diagnosis of Julia’s bored brain. It felt like living in the moment.

  Julia took a step towards the pool, unzipping her dress. And while she hated standing in just swimwear in front of all the lithe Body Pump-toned figures of Lexi, Nicky and Alicia, she was quite proud of her pale-yellow and white striped bikini that was a near identical copy of one she’d seen in Lululemon. Understated but flattering. She’d never even stepped into a Lululemon before she’d heard Lexi and Alicia talking about how it was the only viable place to buy gym leggings.

  ‘Oh my God, we have the same bikini,’ said Lexi as she let her white sequins pool to the floor to reveal a two-piece in almost the same pale-yellow deckchair stripes as Julia’s. Hers however was clearly the expensive version. ‘Twins!’ Lexi clapped, bounding over to stand next to Julia. It looked much better on pocket-sized Lexi and Julia immediately curled in on herself, loath to be compared.

  Alicia leant over the hot tub, resting her chin on her crossed arms, and drawled, ‘Well look at that,’ in a tone that implied Julia had purposely tried to copy Lexi.

  Thankfully Lexi didn’t hear because she was too busy vaulting into the frothy tub in a move that made everyone whistle and clap, while Julia climbed in via the steps, head down to avoid meeting Alicia’s watchful eye.

  Hamish, who had no interest in swimming costume chat, stood in the centre of the tub and shouted, ‘Charlie, get involved or see that off,’ gesturing to the full pint in Charlie’s hand.

  All eyes were on Charlie. He looked like the small ounce of enjoyment he’d summoned up for this party had just been successfully squeezed out of him.

  Julia was willing him to agree to Hamish’s challenge, to just get over it and get in the pool.

  Hamish started chanting, ‘Down it, down it.’

  Alicia, Nicky and Lexi joined in, clapping with glee. Another couple, strangers to Julia and Charlie, who were already lounging in the tub sat up to join. A group of grinning dads who lived up the street chipped in as the chant spread, as Hamish raised his hands high like a conductor and the bow-tied waiters over by the big trees paused to grin and whistle.

  Julia sank down into the warm water, wincing in sympathy as Charlie looked momentarily startled by the onslaught. She hated herself for wanting to see him pushed out of his comfort zone. For craving any reaction outside of apathy. Anything to disrupt the status quo.

  When she saw him start to raise his glass to see off Hamish’s challenge, she sat up a little straighter. Then almost as quickly he stopped. Julia watched as an expression of pity crossed his face and with a narrow-eyed glance aimed at Julia specifically for being complicit, Charlie turned on the spot and walked away.

  There was a collective, disapproving sigh.

  ‘Spoilsport,’ Lexi catcalled, semi-joking.

  Hamish looked completely agog that someone could defy the rules of a challenge. ‘He can’t walk away. That’s cheating. Julia,’ Hamish said, nudging her on the bare arm, ‘sort your husband out.’

  The touch of Hamish’s skin on her own made Julia almost flinch in fright. Immediately hyperaware of their contact, images from her dreams flashing before her eyes, his big hands roaming over her rain-soaked clothes, the crush of his mouth hot on hers. His smell. His taste. Julia had to press her fingers momentarily over her eyes to make the memories go away. And then, just to divert Hamish’s attention from her, she shouted, ‘Come on, Charlie, it’s a game. Come back.’ But she knew he wouldn’t come back. He kept going towards the house without so much as a backwards glance.

  ‘Shame on him,’ muttered Hamish, lolling back so his honey-tanned shoulders were mere inches from Julia’s.

  She shrugged as if her husband were a lost cause, while gearing up to apologise to him later in private. Her skin alive at the proximity to Hamish. Her guilty heart thumping.

  Chapter Three

  In the end, no one stayed in
the hot tub for long, there was too much to do and see. The suckling pig was charring over the firepit in the centre of the lawn, the flames licking high up to a sky so blue it was almost white. The DJ was trying to corral people onto the dance floor with some thumping tunes that shook the garden. The surf-dude waiters were showing off their mixology skills with a Tom-Cruise-in-Cocktail inspired routine while a crowd whooped and clapped.

  It being her party, Lexi was too flighty to be pinned in one place. When some new guests arrived, she jumped out of the hot tub to greet them with a squeal and stood chatting in just her bikini, freshly poured flute of champagne in hand. The couple Julia hadn’t known got out as well after their polite small talk with her fizzled out quite quickly. Nicky was beckoned to the chill-out zone by her husband to delight in the fact that by chance he’d bumped into an old pal from boarding school.

  On the other side of the hot tub, Alicia was on her phone. Julia found herself on the sidelines of a chat between Hamish and a couple of other guys from the street, the fellow dads who’d sidled over with their beers, about a possible men-only cycling trip in the summer. Hamish was stretched out, arms wide, his hand resting just behind Julia’s neck. She was uberaware that if she leant back they would be touching, so she was sitting slightly forward, a touch uncomfortable, as she tried to shuffle imperceptibly along so she was out of reach. Really she wanted to get out of the hot tub, but she hadn’t yet been able to locate a towel. Hamish was busy expounding on the merits of cycle routes around Croatia. As she listened, Julia found herself wishing that Charlie could be part of this inner-circle trip. Part of all the in-jokes and the antics. But she knew that Charlie thought groups of weekend cyclists like Hamish and co. were idiots who just cycled round the park and showed off expensive kit. He liked to cycle solo. So even if he was invited, and somehow they conjured up the money for him to go, he’d probably turn it down anyway.

  ‘And what are we supposed to do while you’re bombing round Zagreb?’ Alicia asked, glancing up from her phone, one perfect brow raised. Her husband was one of the other dads, a clean-cut city banker who looked like he could still be in the office even in casual clothes, leaning against the edge of the tub.