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

  Julia rolled over so she was facing his wide-eyes. ‘No, Charlie. Maybe it would at some point but right now we don’t have the money and we’d lose too much selling our house.’

  Charlie’s face fell a bit, despondent. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ He wiggled back down the bed, pulling the sheet up over them both. ‘And I’ve never really liked yurts. I always think they look a bit hot. And there’s only one room.’

  Julia leant up on her elbow. ‘We can move to France one day, Charlie, that’s totally fine by me, but right now I think we just need to change some small things.’ She reached up and touched his face. ‘We need to change the way we look at what we have.’

  Charlie looked uncertain. ‘Please don’t make me say I’m grateful for things.’

  Julia laughed. ‘I won’t, I promise.’

  ‘OK, go on then,’ said Charlie.

  ‘Well,’ Julia thought for a second. ‘The first thing we need to sort out is your job that you hate.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Charlie. ‘Yes, we definitely need to do that. Or I need to do that.’

  ‘I can help,’ she said. ‘And then we need to work out how to sort the house without spending any more money. Just so that we can live for a bit, and enjoy ourselves again.’

  ‘Agreed again.’ He ran his hand up her arm, stroking her skin. ‘But I’m not really sure how we do that.’

  ‘Well look at this place,’ Julia gestured to the walls and the cracked ceiling. ‘I think the answer is to paint it white. All of it. Just to cover all the stuff we hate and make it like a blank canvas.’

  ‘Shit loads of white paint,’ he laughed. ‘I like it.’

  Julia sat up, cross-legged on the bed, sheet tight around her, getting into her stride. ‘And we can make a feature out of the shabby walls in the kitchen and all the odd chairs. Here they’ve taken all the doors off the kitchen cupboards and just don’t have any. It works really well. We could do that, easily. And we can go to some exhibitions – which would be a nice day out – and buy some posters – there’s one downstairs which adds loads of colour. And then, I was thinking, we could get lots of indoor plants. Put them everywhere. You like plants, and they look good.’

  ‘I do like plants,’ he said dryly, intrigued by her enthusiasm.

  ‘And all the stuff in the attic,’ she went on. ‘I think we should get it down, have a look at it again. I think maybe there’s some stuff we could use, you know, to put on the mantelpiece or on the bookshelves.’

  ‘Blimey, you have changed,’ he said, a smile spreading across his face. ‘No more hankering after a neon light like Lexi’s then.’

  ‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘No more hankering after anything of Lexi’s.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ he laughed. Then he kissed the top of her head and said, ‘It all sounds good. And cheap. And like it’ll give us a bit of space.’

  Julia nodded, pleased with his reaction. ‘And I’m not going for the promotion. And I don’t want an extension. And I don’t really like bi-folding doors.’

  ‘What have bi-folding doors got to do with anything?’ Charlie frowned, unaware of the complete list of wants that had been escalating in Julia’s head.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said, holding in a smile. Then she reached out and held onto his hand. ‘Charlie, you know we were talking on the phone about being good enough and stuff?’

  ‘Ye-ah?’ said Charlie, somewhat wary. ‘This sounds like it might be getting dangerously close to being grateful.’

  Julia bashed him on the arm. ‘No I wasn’t going to say anything about being grateful. I was just going to say, I think you’re absolutely good enough. I think you’re great.’

  Charlie looked at her and smiled. ‘I think you’re great too,’ he said softly.

  Then the noise of Julia’s phone ringing cut into the moment.

  Charlie peered over to see who it was. ‘It’s your mother, you’d better get it.’

  But Julia shook her head. Instead she reached over, silenced the call and wrote a quick text, Super busy at the mo, can’t talk. Will ring later. x

  Charlie watched impressed. ‘Blimey.’

  Julia shrugged, ‘That’s the way I roll now.’

  ‘I like it,’ he said. Then reaching for her phone said, ‘Shall we look up what else we could do with the house?’

  ‘No,’ said Julia, taking the phone off him and chucking it towards her bag. ‘Let’s just lie here for a bit.’

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A cloying still heat closed in as night fell making it impossible to sleep. Amber was lying in bed, staring up at the deer skulls lit by the moonlight when there was a knock at her door. ‘Hang on,’ she said, reaching down to the floor to find her vest and pull it on. Then hoicing the sheet up over her, called, ‘Come in.’

  Lovejoy stuck his head in. ‘I think my room is haunted.’

  Amber sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. ‘You were fine last night.’

  ‘I think maybe the ghost was busy last night. But it’s definitely haunted now. Can I come in?’ he asked, standing expectant, hair all ruffled, eyes hooded.

  Amber rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not going to have sex with you, Lovejoy.’

  He looked at her, affronted. ‘I don’t want to have sex with you.’

  She scoffed. ‘Lovejoy, you want to have sex with anyone.’

  ‘That is so not true. I’m insulted.’ He came into the room, dressed in navy boxers and a white T-shirt. ‘It’s not my fault the ghost chose me to haunt.’

  Amber raised a brow.

  Lovejoy walked over to the bed and lay down next to her. The mattress dipped. All the little hairs on her body could suddenly sense him, smell the Persil on his T-shirt. Amber shifted away an inch. Lovejoy made himself comfortable, lying on his back. ‘Look at all those skulls,’ he said, staring up.

  Amber lay on her back next to him, looking up at the hollow-eyed skulls.

  Neither of them said anything for a bit. Through the half-closed curtains the moon cast a shadow straight across them on the bed.

  Lovejoy said, ‘I think it went as well as can be expected today, don’t you think?’

  Amber nodded. ‘I think so.’

  ‘I like Billy,’ he said.

  ‘Me too,’ said Amber.

  They were silent again. Amber could feel that her hand rested near his on the sheet. It all felt suddenly so familiar.

  Lovejoy said, ‘He’s starting to look like your dad.’

  Amber paused, thought about it. ‘I suppose he is.’

  Lovejoy rolled his head to look at her, eyes bright in the moonlight. ‘I can still see it, you know, the day he collapsed. You all calm like you knew what you were doing giving him mouth to mouth. Fuck I was terrified.’

  Amber stared up at the skulls. ‘Me too,’ she said. ‘I was terrified.’

  ‘You didn’t look terrified,’ Lovejoy said, rolling onto his side and looking at her profile.

  She shrugged. Didn’t look at him.

  Lovejoy paused. Then he said, ‘I think quite a lot that I could have handled that time better.’

  Amber laughed, glancing his way. ‘You don’t think it quite a lot.’

  Lovejoy grinned. ‘OK, thinking about it now, I’ve thought that I could have handled it better. Been better to you.’

  ‘We were teenagers,’ she said. ‘What did we know about handling things?’

  Lovejoy shrugged. ‘Yeah but maybe I could have stayed. I didn’t have to go to the States straight away. I was being selfish and I knew it. You could have come and lived with me and my mum and then you wouldn’t have been on your own and you wouldn’t have gone off. You wouldn’t have met that other guy. I maybe wouldn’t have been like I was.’

  ‘You were always going to be like you were!’ Amber laughed. Then she ran her hand over her mouth, thinking. Outside lines of cloud slid over the light. She rolled onto her side to look at him. ‘We would have been the same whatever,’ she said. ‘I think we end up in the same place no matter wha
t.’

  Lovejoy looked like he wasn’t so sure.

  Amber said, ‘Can you imagine what it would have been like, us living together. We’d have been a nightmare.’

  He laughed. ‘You would have been a nightmare.’

  Amber bashed him on the arm. ‘You would have been a nightmare.’

  They lay looking at each other.

  Then Amber took a breath and said, ‘In the spirit of being honest, which I’m trying to be,’ she paused, ‘although it’s very difficult. I just want to say that back then, I did have feelings for you, I loved you I think, and when you left it really hurt me.’

  Lovejoy looked down at the sheet.

  Amber swallowed before carrying on, tone much lighter. ‘I don’t anymore, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Lovejoy, all jokey but clearly a little uncomfortable so when there was suddenly a rattling sound out the window, he sat bolt upright and said, nervously, ‘What’s that noise? See it’s haunted in here as well.’

  ‘It’s rain, Lovejoy,’ Amber replied, dryly.

  ‘Oh.’ He lay back down. Amber rolled onto her back again. Through the open window they could hear the rain shaking the leaves on the trees. Lovejoy said, ‘I am sorry about back then, you know, not being ready and all that.’

  Amber looked over at him. ‘Thanks,’ she said. She wasn’t very good at apologies and had to take a steeling breath before she replied, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. That, well, I didn’t give you a chance.’ She paused. ‘Even though I know you would have proved me right.’

  Lovejoy laughed, incredulous. ‘You can’t help yourself can you?’

  ‘What? It’s true.’

  ‘Can’t even handle a simple apology.’

  Amber laughed. The sound of the rain outside got louder, splashing off the canopy of leaves. ‘OK, I’m sorry.’

  Lovejoy tipped his head. ‘Thank you.’

  They listened to the rain in silence for a second, then Amber said, ‘You still would have proved me—’

  ‘Amber!’ he held up a hand in warning.

  She laughed.

  The rain really started to pour, crashing down through the trees.

  ‘Do you think you should close the window?’ Lovejoy asked.

  ‘No, I like it,’ said Amber.

  They watched the downpour, the backs of their hands almost touching.

  Then Lovejoy moved his away to scratch his chin as he said, ‘Back to work tomorrow. Emerald House. Enemies again.’

  Amber nodded. ‘Yes. Enemies again.’

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Lovejoy and Amber fell asleep side by side. Amber slept with a calm peace she hadn’t felt for weeks, months, years. And woke as the morning sun beamed through her open window.

  She looked at the bed next to her.

  Lovejoy was gone.

  She rubbed her eyes and sat up, drawing the sheet up over her knees, the room cool from the night of rain. She looked again at the space next to her on the bed and narrowed her eyes, thinking.

  Then she got out of bed and went to look out the window. Lovejoy’s van was gone.

  Amber jogged out into the corridor and flinging open the doors saw Martin and Lovejoy’s rooms were empty.

  ‘Julia, wake up!’ she shouted, banging on Julia’s door. ‘Get up, we have to go! Billy,’ she yelled up the stairs. ‘We’re going!’

  Julia appeared all bleary-eyed at the door. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘The bastard’s left. Lovejoy’s gone. He’s on his way to Emerald House. He’s got a head start. We have to go.’

  Billy appeared from the attic room. ‘How could he do that? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Billy,’ Amber snapped. ‘If I’d thought about it, I’d have done exactly the same thing.’ And while she knew that was true, and that this was a competition and she would do everything she could to beat Lovejoy, she hated the feeling that part of her had hoped to wake up with him there. She strode back to her room to start packing. ‘Come on, everyone, we need to get going!’

  Downstairs there was a loud bash and some swearing.

  They went to peer over the bannister and saw Pandora, in a huge white Adidas T-shirt and tiny stretch red hot pants, nursing her ankle, having come in the front door and tripped over a silver drinks trolley. ‘What’s this doing in front of the door?’ she asked.

  ‘My trolley!’ gasped Julia, running down the stairs. ‘He’s given it back,’ she said, ‘I can’t believe he’s given it back.’ She looked back up at Amber with a grin as she ran her hands over the silverwork. Then she picked up the note that had fluttered to the floor and read, ‘Didn’t want to leave without returning everything to its rightful owner. See you there. Good luck! LJ.’

  ‘That’s nice of him,’ said Charlie.

  Julia looked up from the hallway, ‘That is actually quite nice of him,’ she said to Amber.

  Amber stared down at the sparkling trolley. It was nice of him. It was a really good piece. Julia had done well to spot it. She would never have expected Lovejoy to give it back out of fairness. It was more likely he was just trying to absolve himself of any wrongdoing so nothing marred his victory. Amber harrumphed. Then turning back to her room said, ‘Everyone, pack up we’re leaving, this second. We cannot let him win.’

  As Amber was packing she could hear Charlie through the wall say to Julia, ‘This is all very exciting.’

  And Julia reply, a little giddy, ‘I know.’

  That at least made her smile as she threw all her stuff into her bag, showering and dressing in record time, refusing to let her mind focus on anything else other than the task of winning her Emerald House contract back.

  The rain had broken the heat. Outside the air was fresh and crisp, there was a sea mist that clung to their skin in a layer of sparkling moisture. With the house locked up and everyone dressed and ready, Julia, Charlie, Billy and Pandora all stood in a line by the van, possessions at their feet, no one saying anything as Amber tried for the umpteenth time to start the van.

  ‘You’ll flood the engine, Mum.’

  ‘Thank you, Billy,’ she said, without looking, just concentrating on turning the key and listening to the throaty rumble that wouldn’t tick over.

  Charlie said, ‘If the worst comes to it, I could probably give you a tow.’

  They all turned to look at the tiny Fiat 500 Charlie had hired.

  ‘Maybe not,’ Charlie added.

  ‘Shit!’ Amber bashed the steering wheel. Then she got out and opened the bonnet, staring at a mass of wires and blackened bits of machinery that she knew nothing about. ‘Anyone know anything about cars?’ she asked, knowing full well that none of them had a clue.

  Pandora’s hand shot up. ‘I do!’

  Everyone turned to look at her.

  ‘You do,’ Amber said, surprised.

  Pandora trotted over. ‘Oh yes,’ she said with a chuffed little flick of her hair. ‘I went to a very progressive boarding school.’

  Billy grinned. Amber watched her with a new-found respect. Her white-blonde hair flowing as she leaned herself under the bonnet to diagnose the issue.

  Amber was just getting her toolkit out the back of the van when a giant blue Cadillac eased its way round the corner of the drive and stopped right in the middle, blocking them all in.

  ‘Oh Jesus Christ,’ said Amber, hand to her forehead in disbelief. ‘What now?’

  An old man in a tweed suit with long wispy hair and a pipe unfolded himself from the ancient car and walked round to open the door for his wife, a woman in a turquoise twin set with a necklace made of dolls’ heads the size of quails’ eggs.

  ‘Bonjour,’ the old lady smiled.

  Amber stepped forward, introducing herself the best she could with her limited French.

  But it was Julia who came into her own. As Amber struggled, she stepped forward and chatted with a tumble of A-level French.

  Amber happily stopped speaking and let
Julia take the lead. She turned to see Charlie beaming with pride. ‘She’s good, isn’t she?’ he said.

  Julia and the old couple had a really long, convoluted chat with lots of big laughs and clapped hands. Amber had no idea what she was waffling on about but she was starting to get antsy, time was of the essence.

  Suddenly behind her the van’s engine sprang to life and Pandora jumped down from the driver’s seat, wiping her hands on a rag, saying, ‘All done.’

  ‘Amazing,’ said Amber. ‘Julia, can you tell them we loved staying at their house but we’re sorry we’re in a hurry and have to go—’

  Julia held up a hand, indicating for Amber to wait a sec. The old woman was talking, big gesticulations with her hands. Julia was nodding. Amber was practically hopping from foot to foot with impatience, ‘Come on, Julia,’ she muttered.

  But the old woman was giving a long explanation about something. Julia said, ‘Mais oui,’ and started to smile. Then she gestured that she’d like to talk to Amber.

  The old woman held her hands wide, ‘Bien sûr, bien sûr.’

  Julia was almost giddy as she spoke. ‘She says that the house, all its contents, it’s for sale.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Amber was hardly able to believe what she was hearing. ‘Are they serious?’

  Julia nodded. ‘Yeah, definitely. They’re downsizing,’ Julia said with a grin. ‘Moving back to Paris. The whole lot has to go. She’s asking if you want to pick anything? It’s all a very reasonable price.’

  The old couple were watching, waiting, eager little faces.

  ‘Do I want to pick anything?’ Amber’s face split into a grin. ‘Oui. Oui,’ she said, nodding at the couple. ‘Definitely oui!’

  Together they all trotted back up the steps to the house. Amber with visions of chandeliers and age-speckled mirrors.

  ‘You should text Lovejoy,’ Julia said, coming up beside her. ‘Tell him what’s happened. Remind him that when you leave you miss out,’ she added.

  Amber glanced across at her. ‘I should,’ she said with a nod. But she didn’t because the notion was a little too bittersweet. Instead she turned to Charlie and said, ‘I hope there’s room in your tiny car for a taxidermy swan.’