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

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  They didn’t stay long at the beach. Billy and Pandora picked up their luggage and came to stay with them at the big gothic house. Richard Shepherd went back to his holiday with his wife and family.

  While Amber fell into an exhausted sleep in the afternoon, Julia went with the others to explore the island on rickety bikes they found in the garage. It was scorching hot. The air smelt of the wide planes of salt marshes stretching out on either side of them as they cycled. They went past fields dotted with flocks of white herons, tiny roadside restaurants and white houses with battered palm trees in their gardens until they reached the sea and the rows of oyster beds. Fishermen shouted as they hauled in black crates of shellfish while a tractor launched a boat down the slipway into the water.

  Julia paused to watch for a second, wishing Charlie was there, knowing he’d love this, before cycling to join the others who had stopped at a shack selling oysters.

  Martin counted through everyone who would eat them. ‘I will,’ he said, ‘And Amber will, won’t she?’

  Billy nodded. ‘Yeah and I will. Panda?’ he looked at Pandora who went over and inspected the shellfish.

  ‘Are they ethically sourced?’ she asked the tough-looking fisherwoman behind the makeshift counter.

  The woman looked Pandora up and down, in her broderie anglaise smock, heart-shaped glasses and white-blonde top knot. ‘They are from the sea,’ she said, bluntly. ‘There.’ She turned and pointed towards the beds of oysters just behind them.

  Pandora peered towards the water. ‘OK,’ she said, the answer appearing acceptable to her. ‘I’ll have a dozen.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ said Lovejoy, picking one up and giving it a sniff. ‘Love an oyster. Julia, are you having any?’ he asked.

  Julia had been trying to avoid the question. She couldn’t think of anything more revolting – just the texture made her shudder – but she didn’t want to be the loser who said no. ‘OK,’ she said, voice clearly unsure.

  Martin laughed. ‘I’ll eat yours if you hate them.’

  When they cycled home, Pandora went rummaging through the house and came out with the big gold candelabra from the living room and sat it majestically on the long wooden garden table along with some paraffin lanterns that she hung from the tree branches.

  Lovejoy found two tennis racquets and a dog-chewed ball and tentatively offered one to Billy. ‘Fancy a game, mate?’

  Billy looked at the racquet. Julia saw Pandora pause while hanging a lantern to give Billy big-eyes, encouraging him to accept.

  Billy put his glasses on and stood up, swiping his hair from his eyes. ‘OK but I’m not very good.’

  Lovejoy held his arms wide and said, ‘Believe me, I’m no champion.’

  Billy cracked a small smile.

  Julia set the table and took orders from Martin to slice the lemons, wash samphire that they’d bought from the beach shack, and mix the gin and tonic, while Martin got busy shucking the oysters. Pandora dusted off an old record player and as the sun began to dim, loud French opera filled the garden.

  Amber appeared in the doorway, bleary from sleep. She saw the gin and tonics and said, ‘Perfect. Just a dash of tonic in mine, please.’ Then settled herself down in one of the big armchairs out the back.

  Julia came to sit next to her with the drinks. They watched the terrible game of tennis happening on the lawn. ‘They’re enjoying themselves,’ Julia said about Lovejoy and Billy.

  ‘Yes I hope so,’ said Amber, watching intrigued.

  The peace was interrupted by the sound of Julia’s phone ringing.

  Amber yawned. ‘Who’s that? Is that Charlie?’ she asked as Julia looked at who was calling.

  Julia shook her head, staring at the name on the screen. She could feel her courage diminish. ‘It’s my mother,’ Julia said.

  ‘Don’t answer,’ Amber suggested.

  ‘I have to, otherwise she’ll ring and ring. And then call Charlie.’

  ‘Oh,’ Amber made a face. ‘Just remember you’re in control,’ she said, picking up her gin and tonic, ‘and just because they’re your family,’ she added, ‘it doesn’t make them right. Unless of course it’s to do with share prices.’ Then slipping on her sunglasses, she went over to stand on the sidelines of the tennis.

  Julia took a deep breath. ‘Hi, Mum,’ she said brightly.

  ‘Are you still in France?’ said her mum without any hello.

  ‘Yes,’ Julia replied. Watching the tennis back and forth.

  ‘So what are you doing about the application for the promotion?’ her mother asked. ‘Your father was chatting to, oh I can’t remember his name, at the golf club and he said he hadn’t heard anything from you. Today’s the deadline, apparently. Can you do it from France? What’s that music?’

  Julia turned away from the tennis. She moved into the hallway away from Pandora’s opera music, Billy’s shouts of triumph and Martin’s loud swearing at the oysters that wouldn’t shuck. ‘Hang on a minute, Mum. I’m just moving.’

  Julia went into the living room. It was dark, huge curtains obscuring half the windows, the walls painted deep red. She stood by the mantelpiece, on it was a glass dome underneath which was a flight of tiny stuffed birds, none of them bigger than the palm of her hand. She took a deep breath and said, ‘I’m not going for the promotion.’

  ‘Why not?’ her mother asked surprised. ‘You must. Hold on, your father’s saying something.’ Julia heard her dad’s voice in the background. ‘Wait a sec. No, darling,’ her mum called to her dad, ‘She says she’s not applying.’ There was a pause, then she said to Julia, ‘He wants to know why not.’

  Julia stared at the colourful little stuffed birds under the dome, their wings spread wide, their bodies pinned into place, all of them trapped forever mid-flight. And she said, ‘Because I’m OK as I am. I like my job and I’m good at it. I don’t want a promotion. If anything, Mum, I want less time at work, not more.’

  Her mum was silent for a moment, then she said, ‘But what about the money for the house?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Julia, almost with a laugh, the freedom of having no idea intoxicating.

  ‘Oh Julia, don’t be silly. I don’t know what’s happening with Charlie but don’t lose your head over this.’

  ‘I haven’t lost my head,’ said Julia, smiling at herself in the huge mirror.

  Then her dad came on the phone; they’d evidently put her on speakerphone. ‘Is everything alright, Julia,’ he asked concerned. ‘Should we be worried about you off in France alone?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘You don’t need to worry about me. Don’t worry about me at all.’ She paused. ‘Just know that I am a grown woman and I can totally make the right decisions for my life. OK?’ It was such a simple sentence but it felt like it had taken a lifetime to say. The relief of hearing the words left her hands shaking.

  They were both quiet for a second. ‘What does Charlie have to say about it?’ asked her mum.

  Julia said, ‘It’s not about Charlie. It’s about me,’ surprised at how confident her voice sounded.

  ‘You’re not getting a divorce are you, Julia? Because I was talking to Suzy Maynard just this morning at the gym and she says that the holiday in the Canaries was a bust and now they’re getting divorced and it’s all getting very nasty.’

  ‘No, Mum,’ Julia smiled again, ‘No I hope I’m not getting a divorce.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ said her mother.

  Julia walked away from the little birds under the dome and over to the window, looked out at the low sun feathering the garden, saw a tennis ball shoot into the flowerbed, saw Pandora pirouetting on the patio, Amber going to the kitchen to refill her drink, and Martin carrying a tray of oysters aloft.

  ‘Well, it is a shame,’ her mother went on, ‘about the promotion. But if you think you know what you’re doing…’

  ‘I know I know what I’m doing, Mum,’ said Julia firmly.

  ‘Fine,’ her mum r
eplied, a little short. ‘Right, good.’

  Everyone was silent for a moment. Then her dad said, ‘You really should get a Santander 1,2,3 card though, Julia. Those cash machines abroad are daylight robbery.’

  And Julia had to suppress a laugh as she said, ‘OK, Dad, I will,’ because it felt suddenly easier to concede on the small things.

  Her mum said, ‘Well, we must dash, Julia, we’re off to Waitrose.’

  ‘OK, bye,’ Julia replied, thinking how insignificant the chat was to them, yet how monumental to her.

  Life really did just tick on, unchanging.

  She was staring at her phone in proud awe of herself when she heard the creak of a floorboard and the heavy scent of Chanel. Turning, she saw that Amber had come to stand next to her.

  She was looking out at the garden, hands behind her back. ‘Alright?’ said Amber.

  ‘I’m shaking,’ Julia said looking at her hands. ‘Time for a very large gin and tonic, I think.’

  But, instead of heading into the kitchen, to Julia’s surprise, Amber reached over and put her arm round her shoulders, drawing her close. ‘Well done,’ she said. ‘I’m proud of you.’

  Julia glanced across at Amber’s profile. ‘Thanks,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ Amber replied.

  They stood, side by side, both staring out the window at Billy and Lovejoy’s tennis game that was down to its last ball, all the others over the fence or stuck in the guttering.

  Julia took a risk and, putting her arm round Amber’s waist, said, ‘I’m proud of you, too,’ gesturing towards the laughing tennis players.

  Amber laughed, deep and throaty. ‘Well thank you very much,’ she said. ‘I appreciate that.’

  And Julia grinned.

  Then they went outside and Julia ate her first and only ever oyster. Geckos sat poised for moths on the white walls, and the music drifted softly on a gentle breeze. The oyster was as disgusting as she thought it would be. But she’d tried it at least.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The huge wide sky was dotted with a million stars. Bats circled round the tops of the trees. With the music down low they could hear the sound of the sea breaking in the distance. Amber was exhausted. She sat in her chair happily contented, full of oysters and gin and feeling the tightness in her chest that had followed her for eighteen years starting to lose its grip.

  They stayed in the garden long into the darkness. Pandora, who Amber was beginning to realise had boundless energy and enthusiasm, decided to try and teach everyone some yoga. Julia, Martin and Billy were keen enough and Lovejoy, who would have flat out refused in the past, joined in out of a new-found fatherly attempt at bonding with Billy. That made Amber smile to herself as she stayed in her chair. She had absolutely no intention of doing yoga but would happily pass judgement on the others’ failed contortions.

  As she was reaching for her drink she saw a message flash up on Julia’s phone. It was from Charlie.

  She was about to call to Julia when she saw what it said: I’m here. It was meant to be a surprise but I can’t find a bloody doorbell. Could you answer the door, please?

  Amber snorted a laugh. Then she looked at the message, biting down on her lip thinking about poor Charlie trying to make a grand gesture but getting stuck on the doorstep. How did everything always seem to go wrong for them. She felt a bubble of excitement for Julia at the fact he was here, that he’d left his tomatoes and hopped on a plane. The idea thrilled her. It made her want to do something for Julia, who was currently all tangled up in one of Pandora’s poses. To make it special. So she got up out her chair and sloped away to the hallway as quietly as possible to let Charlie in.

  But pulling open the front door, Amber was confronted with Charlie Fletcher standing stark naked on the doorstep.

  ‘Oh Jesus Christ!’ Amber said in shock.

  ‘Shit,’ yelped Charlie.

  They faced each other for a second, Charlie blushing redder and redder, hands clutched to his crotch, Amber frozen with surprise laughter. The next minute, Charlie dashed to the right to hide in the rhododendron bush by the door.

  Amber put her hand over her mouth, hardly able to contain her amusement. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry, Charlie. I thought you were stuck out here.’

  Charlie’s voice was resigned with mortification, ‘Don’t worry, that was, you know, part of the plan.’

  Amber struggled to keep a straight face. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes I see that now.’

  There were footsteps in the hallway. ‘What’s going on?’ asked Martin, appearing next to Amber.

  Then Julia said, ‘Is there someone at the door?’

  Lovejoy peered out, ‘Who is it?’

  They were all there, looking out into the darkness.

  Amber said, ‘It’s someone for Julia.’

  ‘Who?’ Julia looked confused. ‘Where?’

  ‘Hi Julia,’ said Charlie’s voice from the rhododendron bush.

  ‘Charlie?’ Julia peered in through the leaves. ‘What are you doing in the—’ then she clocked his lack of apparel. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Surprise!’ he said, with less enthusiasm than he might have done had Amber not opened the door.

  Everyone else peered in. ‘Oh!’ they said in unison. Pandora squealed. Lovejoy glanced back at Amber and winked, delighted by the turn of events.

  Amber was trying to hold in a grin. ‘I think I somewhat ruined the surprise. Sorry. Come on, everyone, let’s leave them to it.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Julia stood alone on the doorstep. She could feel the smile on her face. ‘You can come out now, Charlie, they’ve all gone.’

  There was a pause. The leaves on the rhododendron shook a little as he moved. ‘I don’t think I can now, Julia. The moment’s been er… well, I’ve kind of lost my nerve.’

  Julia bit down on her lip. ‘I can’t believe you came here and took all your clothes off on the doorstep.’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘neither can I, it seemed a good idea at the time. I felt the situation deserved a grand gesture.’

  Julia felt her chest swell. ‘Oh Charlie.’

  ‘It didn’t turn out very well though did it? Do you think you could pass me a towel or something?’

  Julia nipped to the living room and came back with one of the blankets on the sofa. ‘Here.’ She handed it through the branches. ‘I think it’s perfect,’ she said, with a giggle. ‘It’s exactly our kind of grand gesture.’ She had a sudden vision of all the guests at Emerald House having their breakfast in their dressing gowns. She knew her and Charlie would have shuffled self-consciously along the corridor in their dressing gowns and slippers wondering why the hell they hadn’t just got dressed. But that was who they were, she finally acknowledged, who she was meant to be. And who wanted to have breakfast in their dressing gown with a load of strangers anyway?

  ‘Thanks!’ Charlie said, taking the striped Tibetan blanket with relief. Then he appeared out of the rhododendron bush with it tied round his waist, his hair all messed up. ‘That’s better.’

  Julia looked at his face, all the familiar lines of him, the tiny creases at the corners of his eyes, the slight wonkiness of his nose. ‘It’s so nice to see you.’

  ‘Yeah?’ he asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘Good,’ he said, quite chuffed. ‘It’s pretty nice to see you, too.’

  They looked at each other on the doorstep. Pleased but a bit shy. Julia opened her mouth to speak but Charlie cut her off, ‘So have you got those giant pants on?’

  Julia tipped her head. ‘Maybe.’

  Charlie grinned. There was a lightness to him that she hadn’t seen for ages. His hair all mussed up and a glint in his eyes.

  Before she could say anything else he stepped forward and looping his arms under her legs and round he back he hoisted her up in the air. ‘Right then,’ he said.

  ‘Charlie, what are you doing?’ she struggled, completely caught off guard.

  ‘Another big romantic
gesture,’ he said, stalking forward a few paces. ‘Oh shit, my blanket’s falling down. Hang on.’ He stopped, put her down and retied the Tibetan blanket tight round his waist. ‘OK, let’s try again.’ He lifted her up again. ‘Oh God, that really hurt my back.’

  ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, wincing. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. I just pulled something at home doing the ceiling and that must have aggravated it. Have you got any Nurofen with you?’

  ‘No,’ she laughed.

  ‘That’s OK,’ Charlie nodded, serious. Then he crossed the hallway and concentrated on taking the stairs. ‘There’s a lot of stairs,’ he said, clearly daunted.

  Julia said, ‘Do you want to put me down?’

  ‘No, no, I can do it,’ he huffed forward one step at a time.

  Julia tried to suppress a laugh.

  Three quarters of the way up the stairs Charlie stopped and put her down, rubbing his lower back. ‘I think that’s probably enough of a gesture.’

  Julia’s smile widened. ‘It was a great gesture.’

  ‘Hamish Warrington would probably have slung you over his shoulder,’ Charlie said.

  ‘I don’t want to be slung over Hamish’s shoulder. I want to be slung over your shoulder.’

  ‘Christ,’ said Charlie. ‘I could try but probably best to do it when we’re up on the landing. Might not be that safe on the stairs.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it literally,’ Julia laughed. ‘I don’t want to be slung over anyone’s shoulder.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Charlie looked down at her and grinned again. ‘Good.’ Then, almost taking in his surroundings for the first time, said, ‘Is that a dead swan wearing a crown on the landing?’

  ‘It is.’ Julia nodded.

  ‘Interesting,’ said Charlie. ‘Very interesting. Right,’ he looked around. ‘Which way to the boudoir?’

  Julia was lying drifting off to sleep with Charlie’s arms wrapped around her, the moonlight streaming through the wobbly glass when he sat up suddenly and said, ‘Shall we just leave everything behind and move to France? We could get a farmhouse or some old chateau. Do glamping or yurts or something and live completely off-grid. Wouldn’t that be good?’