One Last Summer

by Connelly, Victoria

As she felt the tears rise, she did her best to will them away, refusing to open her eyes until she had recovered her composure. Just take a moment, she told herself. It will pass. Think of something else: something silly. That often worked. She used to do that while waiting for hospital appointments. All those dark dreary hours hanging around in corridors. She’d read her way through so many books and magazines and had gone through her whole life, mining it for all the silly moments, recalling them and reliving them over again, like the time she’d walked into her first classroom as a newly qualified teacher and had tripped over her own feet and flown across the room. It hadn’t been funny at the time and certainly hadn’t created the impression she’d wanted on her first day, but she could imagine how she’d looked to her pupils. Their first flying teacher. They’d called her Mary Poppins after that, but she’d soon managed to nip that in the bud.

  Slowly, trusting herself now, she blinked her eyes open. She could blame any stray tears on the brightness of the sun and sky, she decided as she sat up. Lisa was still lying down, but Audrey was staring out to sea, her long dark hair blowing behind her.

  ‘A penny for them,’ Harrie said.

  ‘They’re not worth that much.’

  ‘They are to me.’

  Audrey turned around and smiled. ‘I was just thinking about the first time we were all together.’

  ‘Wasn’t it in that dreadful student bar?’ Lisa said, pushing herself up from the grass.

  ‘You were flirting with the barman,’ Audrey said.

  ‘Lisa’s always flirting,’ Harrie added.

  ‘And Harrie walked in looking like she was about to cry,’ Audrey remembered.

  ‘I did not!’

  ‘You did a bit,’ Lisa agreed.

  ‘I probably did too,’ Audrey said. ‘It was the first time I’d been away from home and I was as nervous as hell.’

  ‘Me too,’ Harrie admitted. ‘I remember unpacking my suitcase and thinking that I’d give it to the end of the week and, if I didn’t like it, I’d leave.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you stayed!’ Lisa said. ‘It wouldn’t have been the same without you.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Audrey said with a shrug. ‘We’d have probably hooked up with that Tania girl. She would have been a good Harrie replacement.’

  ‘I hope you’re joking!’ Harrie cried.

  ‘Yes!’ Lisa gasped. ‘She was awful!’

  ‘Remember when your earrings went missing?’ Harrie said to Audrey. ‘You said she’d been in your room asking to borrow a book or something.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Audrey said, ‘and it was after that when I noticed they were gone. They’d been my grandma’s. I suppose it was silly to take them to university, but I didn’t expect anyone to steal them.’

  ‘But you got them back, didn’t you?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Yes, they mysteriously turned up in a place I’d already looked at least a dozen times. I think Tania realised how much they meant to me and felt bad about it and sneakily returned them.’

  ‘Weirdo,’ Harrie said. ‘It’s a good job I didn’t leave. Heaven only knows what would’ve happened to you two if you’d been friends with her instead of me.’

  Audrey laughed.

  ‘It was so lovely that we all found each other,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Friends forever,’ Audrey said, looking at Harrie and winking.

  Harrie nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Even when we don’t see each other for years at a time.’

  ‘But that’s the true test of friendship, isn’t it?’ Harrie pointed out. ‘I mean, don’t you just love that we can pick up exactly where we left off? There’s no awkwardness. We’re just back to being us three.’

  Audrey and Lisa nodded and the three of them sat for a few moments, gazing out to sea, the sun on their faces and the wind in their hair. Suddenly, Harrie giggled.

  ‘What is it?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Remember Dr Bulmer?’

  ‘Oh, my god! Yes!’ Lisa said. ‘He fancied himself as an actor, didn’t he? He was always reading things out loud and getting into character. So embarrassing.’

  ‘Remember the time he was reading from Far from the Madding Crowd and started doing all the sound effects of Captain Troy’s swordplay?’ Audrey said.

  Harrie started laughing. ‘How could anyone forget that? I think I turned red trying to hold all the laughter in!’

  ‘You did. I remember,’ Lisa told her. ‘I’ve never read so much in my life as that first year at university. I was horrified at the time when we were sent that reading list and the first book on it was Vanity Fair. I thought I was never going to make it through the term, but I really miss those days now. We had such a wonderful excuse for doing nothing but curling up with a book.’

  ‘I remember skimming David Copperfield and then having to fudge my way through a seminar,’ Audrey confessed. ‘I’m sure the lecturer knew if you hadn’t read it properly.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Lisa said. ‘Audrey didn’t do her homework properly?’

  Audrey shook her head. ‘I don’t know why you think I’m Mrs Perfect all the time.’

  Lisa laughed at Audrey’s obvious discomfort. ‘Yes, I don’t know where I got that impression from!’

  Audrey sighed. ‘I have to say I was so relieved when that first term was over.’

  The three of them fell silent and Harrie looked at Lisa, remembering that it had been at the end of that first term when Lisa’s mother had fallen ill. Mrs Coulson had picked Lisa up from university because she couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter having to catch ‘a grubby train’, she said, and she’d treated the three girls to a slap-up lunch in town. The odd thing was, she hadn’t eaten much herself. Lisa had asked her mother if she was all right and Harrie had remembered the look on Mrs Coulson’s face.

  ‘Of course I’m all right!’ she’d declared with a smile, but Harrie had noticed something behind that too-bright smile and had guessed she was hiding something. Lisa broke the news to them when she came back after that first holiday. She’d been pale and fragile and totally dependent on Harrie and Audrey to keep her going. The cancer had been cruel in its swiftness, taking Mrs Coulson in a matter of months. Lisa’s father hadn’t coped well and his sister, Lisa’s aunt, had stepped in. Having no children herself, Aunt Katharine had fussed over Lisa as if she was her own daughter. Lisa had told her friends that she could look after herself, but they’d seen only too well the support she needed. She’d let her work slide and her lecturers had given her endless extensions for her essays and had even allowed her to go home mid-term during one particularly difficult patch.

  Harrie still remembered those dark days. They were one of the reasons why she’d delayed telling her friends about her own cancer. They’d been through so much with Lisa’s mother and Harrie had felt so protective of her dear friend and hadn’t wanted to put her through any more than she needed to. She was absolutely dreading telling Lisa her news.

  Harrie looked at Lisa now. The sun was full on her face and a happy smile danced across it. What would happen when she told her, she wondered? How would Lisa react? Harrie could feel the butterflies rising in her stomach at the mere thought of the scene that lay ahead.

  But not today, she told herself.

  ‘Shouldn’t we be thinking about getting back?’ Audrey asked, looking at her phone at last.

  ‘Gordon Bennett, Aud! Don’t you ever do anything that’s not on the clock?’ Lisa cried.

  ‘I’m just thinking of what’s-her-name and the lunch she’s preparing us.’

  ‘Mrs Ryder,’ Harrie said.

  ‘She won’t want us to be late,’ Audrey told them.

  ‘I’m not having my holiday ruled by some tyrant in the kitchen,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Still, we shouldn’t keep the poor woman waiting if she’s gone to a lot of effort,’ Audrey pointed out.

  ‘And I can’t believe you’ve brought your phone out here,’ Lisa said. ‘I thought you were going to make an eff
ort to relax.’

  ‘I am,’ Audrey insisted. ‘I didn’t bring my watch – look! I’ve got a great white mark where it usually is.’ She pointed to her arm and, sure enough, there was a slim band of pale skin. ‘But I can’t relax without having a phone for emergencies. Imagine if one of us twisted our ankle.’

  ‘We’d manage,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Or went over the cliff,’ Audrey added.

  ‘It would be too late for a phone then.’ Harrie got up from the grass.

  Audrey and Lisa followed, making their way down the hill through the trees.

  ‘Ah! How wonderful it is to go downhill,’ Audrey declared.

  ‘But the view is from the top,’ Harrie said.

  ‘Ever the philosopher!’ Lisa teased.

  ‘Just an observer of life.’

  As soon as they were out of the trees, the priory came into view.

  ‘Isn’t it magnificent?’ Harrie said.

  Lisa pursed her lips. ‘I think it looks slightly spooky. It took me ages to fall asleep last night. I kept expecting to see a hooded monk shuffling about in the shadows.’

  ‘Don’t say that! I’ll never sleep now!’ Audrey cried.

  ‘I’ve never stayed in such an old building before,’ Harrie said. ‘I’m so used to modern places. I think I’ve been missing out. I’ve always thought I wouldn’t like them. Too many bumpy walls and uneven floorboards with squeaks in them.’

  ‘And mice and spiders,’ Audrey added.

  ‘And moths and monks,’ Lisa said.

  They all laughed.

  ‘But I’m really loving it. I love all the funny little idiosyncrasies – you don’t get those in a newbuild. You might have perfectly straight walls with everything at right angles, but it’s somehow soulless, don’t you think?’

  ‘I wouldn’t swap my modern flat,’ Lisa stated.

  ‘Aren’t these old buildings notoriously difficult to heat?’ Audrey asked. ‘I like my double-glazed windows. Those Georgian sash windows might look lovely, but I wouldn’t want to be sitting next to one on a winter’s evening.’

  Harrie smiled. ‘I don’t think it would be so bad.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Lisa cried. ‘You’re not thinking of taking on some dreadful old project, are you? You’ve got that dreamy, ambitious look about you.’

  ‘No, nothing like that. But I can’t help thinking that I’ve missed out.’ She paused, feeling that she’d said too much. ‘I mean, it’s a young person’s job, isn’t it? Renovating.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be,’ Lisa said.

  ‘What did you have in mind?’ Audrey asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ Harrie said honestly. ‘I just wondered what it would be like to live in a really old place. A place that was filled with the stories of its previous residents. I guess that’s why I booked the priory. There’s something so romantic about an ancient place.’

  ‘Not if you read Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle,’ Audrey pointed out. ‘Wasn’t it always damp and full of rats?’

  ‘There is nothing romantic about sharing your home with rats,’ Lisa agreed.

  Harrie smiled again. ‘We have so many choices, don’t we? Choices we completely overlook. Like where and how to live? A flat or a bungalow, a cottage or a castle . . .’

  ‘I don’t think everyone has a choice,’ Lisa said. ‘I can’t afford anything more than my tiny flat.’

  ‘But imagine if you did have a choice,’ Harrie pressed. ‘What would you choose?’

  Audrey took in a deep breath. ‘I’ve never really thought about it.’

  ‘You’re always working too hard,’ Harrie told her. ‘You need to relax more, dream more. It’s important.’

  Audrey seemed to be contemplating this. ‘Well, I’ve always liked the idea of an eco-house,’ she confessed. ‘Maybe near the sea.’

  ‘You want to live near the sea but you live in London?’ Harrie said.

  ‘I know where I live,’ Audrey told her. ‘You’re the one who told me to dream.’

  ‘It just seems a shame that, well, so many people have dreams but their real lives are so different.’

  ‘So what’s your dream home, Lisa?’ Audrey asked.

  ‘Something big and posh with a sweeping Gone with the Wind staircase and a beautiful studio where I can do my yoga without listening to a neighbour’s music blaring. And I want thick soft carpets,’ Lisa said, ‘so I can walk around barefoot and not be cold. There’s this horrible piece of sticky linoleum in the kitchen in my flat. It never comes clean no matter how hard I scrub it.’

  Harrie and Audrey both made commiserating noises.

  ‘What about you, Harrie?’ Audrey asked. ‘What would your dream home be like?’

  ‘You’re looking at it,’ she said, nodding to the priory.

  ‘Really? You’d want to live here?’ Lisa said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit big, isn’t it?’

  ‘More room to dream in,’ Harrie said.

  They’d reached the meadow now and walked through the grasses and flowers, their legs and feet sending up clouds of butterflies into the air.

  Reaching the garden of the priory, they crossed the lawn and entered through the great wooden door.

  ‘Something smells good,’ Lisa said as they walked into the kitchen. She gasped when she saw the table. It had been laid for three with crockery, cutlery and glasses and looked wonderfully inviting.

  ‘I think we’d better wash our hands,’ Audrey said. ‘I suddenly feel like I’m a child again.’

  A few minutes later, the three women met back in the kitchen and settled down to lunch. Harrie had to admit that Mrs Ryder’s first attempt looked surprisingly good. She had filled a big bowl with crisp green salad leaves and had left roasted peppers stuffed with wild rice in the oven for them.

  She came into the kitchen as they were halfway through.

  ‘I hope this will do for you,’ she said.

  ‘It’s splendid,’ Audrey said.

  ‘No need to fire you then,’ Harrie said.

  Mrs Ryder’s eyes widened at this comment.

  ‘I think she’s teasing you,’ Audrey quickly added, shooting a look of disapproval across the table at Harrie.

  ‘There’s no meat,’ Mrs Ryder told them. ‘Not anywhere, although I daresay you would benefit from a bit of bacon.’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Lisa said. ‘Is there some?’

  ‘No,’ Harrie told her.

  ‘I’ve made an egg-free, dairy-free quiche which I’ve put in the fridge for your dinner.’ She shook her head as if in disapproval.

  ‘Thank you,’ Harrie said.

  ‘And I’ve made your beds up and, well, had a bit of a tidy round.’

  Audrey looked slightly alarmed by this. ‘You haven’t moved any of my files, have you?’

  Mrs Ryder turned her attention to her. ‘So you’re the one with the files, are you? Odd thing to bring on a holiday.’

  Harrie bit back a smile. ‘Tell her off, Mrs Ryder.’

  ‘It’s not my job to tell anybody off – only to point out right from wrong when I see it.’

  ‘It isn’t wrong to want to keep my business afloat,’ Audrey said through gritted teeth.

  ‘It is in the middle of a summer holiday,’ Mrs Ryder said. ‘All them spreadsheets and things.’ She shook her head, tutting like a disappointed parent.

  ‘We told her,’ Lisa piped up.

  ‘Everybody’s told her,’ Harrie added.

  ‘Hey! What is this? Some kind of intervention?’ Audrey cried.

  ‘Seems like it!’ Harrie said, highly amused.

  ‘Just shred the spreadsheets and have done with it,’ Lisa said with a laugh.

  ‘I’m not shredding them. They’re important.’

  ‘So’s taking a break,’ Harrie told her.

  ‘I know!’ Audrey said. ‘Why else do you think I’ve given you the whole of my summer?’

  Silence greeted Audrey’s question, but then Mrs Ryder tutted again.
r />   ‘You career women – you’ve got your heads down so often that you’ve forgotten there’s a sky above you.’

  The three of them watched as Mrs Ryder picked up her handbag from a nearby chair and collected the large canvas bag full of her tricks of the trade. ‘I’ll see you in a couple of days.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Ryder!’ Harrie called after her.

  They waited until the large front door had closed behind her.

  ‘Rude woman!’ Audrey declared.

  ‘I like her!’ Lisa said. ‘She’s kind of like a scary headmistress that you want to please.’

  ‘I like her too,’ Harrie said.

  ‘Well, I’m happy to be in the minority on this occasion,’ Audrey said, ‘and if she so much as touches one of my spreadsheets, I’m out of here!’

  Chapter 5

  That first week at the priory was a happy time as the three women gently fell into a new routine with one another, with Mrs Ryder and with the extraordinary rhythms of the old building and its gardens. They read together, reminisced about their student days, dozed off in deckchairs, cooked on the days Mrs Ryder wasn’t there and had the sort of easy, drifting conversations that only happen amongst true friends. Harrie couldn’t have been happier. Well, she could.

  There was, she recognised, still progress to be made on the Samson Haverstock front. She’d given him a bit of breathing space since the flask encounter, watching him come and go with his tools and, if she ever managed to catch his eye, he’d give a curt little nod.

  Lisa had clapped eyes on him properly for the first time a couple of days ago.

  ‘Wow! He’s cute!’

  ‘I wouldn’t bother,’ Harrie warned her. ‘He’s only interested in stone.’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. He’s gorgeous. Look at those arms. I bet he could pick up that trestle table in the kitchen and walk a hundred miles without breaking into a sweat.’

  ‘Well, I bet he’d break into a sweat if you so much as said boo to him,’ Harrie said.

  ‘Maybe I should try that sometime.’

  Lisa hadn’t gone through with her threat, but it was only a matter of time. The truth was, Lisa liked men and Harrie couldn’t imagine that she’d spend the whole summer living like a nun, even though they were in a priory.