She took a deep breath, catching sight of her briefcase beside the wardrobe. The sun was shining and it was tempting to reach for a book and lie back on one of the sun loungers in the garden, but she had to do a little bit of work first.
Chapter 6
The second week at Melbury Priory was blessed with sunshine which turned the garden into a golden glory where the scent of lavender, roses and herbs filled the air. For the three women, it meant hours spent by the swimming pool – Lisa with a book in her hand, Harrie with iced water and Audrey with a cup of tea.
‘Who fancies a dip in the pool?’ Audrey suddenly asked. ‘Harrie?’
A shot of cold fear ran down Harrie’s spine. ‘I’m good here, thanks,’ she said quickly.
‘Come on! You’ve hired this amazing place with a pool and I’ve not even seen you in it yet.’
‘I had a swim the other night.’
‘Did you?’
She nodded. She had sneaked out in the quiet of the midnight garden when she was quite sure Audrey and Lisa were asleep.
‘Well, let’s get you in there now,’ Audrey said, on her feet and shedding her light dress, underneath which she had on a pretty blue-and-gold swimsuit. She leaned forward, taking hold of Harrie’s left hand.
Harrie could feel her heart hammering in her chest. ‘Audrey, please don’t!’
‘Come on!’
‘No, really. Maybe later, okay?’
‘Oh, Harrie!’
‘Really – I . . .’ Before she could protest any further, Audrey had hauled her out of her sun lounger.
‘You’ll love it once you’re in!’
‘Go on, Harrie!’ Lisa encouraged from the safety of her own sun lounger. She obviously had no intention of joining them.
‘Audrey – no!’ she screamed, surprising herself and her friend by the force of her command.
Audrey stopped trying to manoeuvre Harrie towards the pool, but she still had a hold of Harrie’s arm and that’s when she blanched and suddenly dropped it. Harrie saw the change in expression in Audrey’s face. She’d seen it, hadn’t she? The scar under her arm. Harrie instinctively hugged her arms to her chest, but it was too late to hide it.
‘I thought you were going to throw her in there for a moment,’ Lisa said with a laugh.
‘No,’ Audrey said. ‘I wouldn’t do that.’ Her eyes never left Harrie’s.
Turning away, Harrie sat back down on the sun lounger and, a moment later, Audrey jumped into the pool and swam to the far end. Harrie watched her as she returned and stopped, eyeing Harrie before swimming back.
‘I’m going to get a drink,’ Harrie said. ‘You want anything, Lisa?’
‘No, thanks.’
Harrie got up and walked the short distance across the lawn to the priory. Her feet were bare and, after the warmth of the grass on her skin, the flagstone floors of the kitchen felt so cold that it was as if she’d plunged her feet into an icy stream.
What she needed was a cup of tea. A good strong one. None of this herbal rubbish. She wanted thick brown builder’s tea.
Reaching into the cupboard, she took out a mug and a spoon from the drawer.
‘Harrie?’
Harrie had known Audrey would probably follow her into the priory, but she’d been hoping she wouldn’t.
‘Yes?’ Harrie said innocently, her back to her friend as she filled the kettle. She could see that her hands were shaking and willed them to stop. She had to be in control.
‘What was it I saw out there?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean.’
Harrie paused with the kettle. ‘What did you see?’
‘Your scar.’
Harrie pursed her lips as she tried to deal with her thoughts.
‘Harrie – look at me. You’re hiding something and it’s freaking me out.’
After switching the kettle on, Harrie turned to face Audrey. She had a large white towel wrapped around her body and her hair was wet from her swim, the long tendrils dripping water over her shoulders.
‘There’s nothing to worry about.’
‘No? Then what’s the scar? You sure didn’t have it when we were in Lanzarote.’
‘No,’ Harrie said, trying to remain calm and in control. ‘I’ve had a little procedure since then – that’s all – and it was all fine.’
‘A procedure? What sort of a procedure?’
‘Just a small biopsy.’
Audrey frowned. ‘A small biopsy? There’s no such thing as a small biopsy!’
‘Yes, there is,’ Harrie assured her. ‘It was very simple really. I found a lump. It was removed. Everything was fine.’
Audrey swore. ‘Oh, my god, Harrie! A lump! Why didn’t you say something?’
‘Because there wasn’t anything to say.’
‘So you’re okay?’
‘Everything’s good.’
Audrey didn’t look convinced.
‘Honestly,’ Harrie said. ‘It couldn’t have been simpler.’
‘But I – we – could have helped, surely?’
‘I didn’t want to worry anyone, really.’
‘God, Harrie – you shouldn’t have to go through something like that on your own. Remember when I dragged you to the dentist’s with me when I had root-canal work done?’
Harrie smiled. ‘Nobody should go through root canal on their own.’
‘And nobody should go through a biopsy either,’ Audrey said, placing her hands on Harrie’s shoulders. ‘Promise me you’ll never hide something like that again.’
Harrie took a moment before answering. It had been one of the most painful decisions of her life not to tell her friends about her diagnosis and a part of her still felt she’d betrayed them by not telling them the truth from the outset.
‘I promise,’ she said at last.
‘Good,’ Audrey said, and then she looked around the room. ‘So is that why you hired this place for the summer? You had a health scare and it’s put everything into focus?’ Her friend held her gaze.
Harrie took a deep breath. ‘You’ve found me out.’
Audrey nodded. ‘I did think it was a bit odd. I mean it’s a good odd, don’t get me wrong! But it seems a rather extravagant thing to do.’
‘I know,’ Harrie agreed, ‘and it is. But it had to be done.’
Audrey smiled and then leaned forward to give her a hug and Harrie suddenly felt horribly exposed because she was wearing her swimsuit with the pockets for her breast form prosthesis. She wore them all the time without thinking now and had become quite used to them, but was still very aware of them when in close contact with people. Still, Audrey didn’t seem to notice anything was out of the ordinary.
‘You must have been so scared,’ Audrey said.
‘I was,’ Harrie said. At least that wasn’t a lie. She could still remember that chilling day in the shower when she’d discovered the lump. It was the kind of thing that most women imagined at some point in their lives. Perhaps they’d watched Terms of Endearment and thought, What if that was me? And one always did those checks that doctors were always reminding you to do but, until you actually felt a lump, you couldn’t really imagine the depth of fear that was possible.
‘And you didn’t tell Lisa?’ Audrey asked.
‘No. Only Honor knows.’
‘You mean Charles didn’t know either?’
‘Of course not,’ Harrie said. ‘We’re just friends now.’
‘But friends share things,’ Audrey said.
‘I know, I know. But – well – it’s not like that between us now. Besides, he’s married again. I can’t go running back to him every time there’s a bump in the road.’
‘But this wasn’t a bump – it was a lump!’ Audrey said.
Harrie laughed.
‘This isn’t funny, Harrie!’
Harrie covered her mouth with her hands in order to try and control herself. ‘I know. I’m sorry!’
‘It could’ve been serious!’
<
br /> ‘I know. I know.’
‘Are you going to tell Lisa?’ Audrey asked.
‘No. She’ll only panic.’
‘You really should tell her, Harrie.’
Harrie glanced down at the floor and nodded. ‘I will. But later, okay? I just don’t want to remind her of what happened to her mum.’
‘But her mum had cancer,’ Audrey pointed out, ‘and you’re okay, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, of course I’m okay. I just don’t want to remind her of all that when we’re meant to be enjoying the summer together.’
‘Yes, that was a bad time,’ Audrey said, and Harrie acknowledged that the memory of it still had the power to leave her breathless. Witnessing her friend’s enormous loss had never really left Harrie. She’d felt Lisa’s pain so very deeply.
‘I still have nightmares about it all,’ Audrey confessed.
‘You do?’
She nodded. ‘Remember those nights we sat up with her while she cried and cried?’
‘I’ll never forget them.’
‘We took it in turns to comfort her because we were both so knackered with it.’
‘It was an awful time,’ Harrie said, ‘and it’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to tell Lisa about my little procedure. You won’t mention it to her, will you?’ Harrie asked now, and Audrey sighed.
‘Well, okay, but I’m not happy about it.’
‘I know you’re not,’ Harrie said. ‘Now, I’m going to make that cup of tea. Want one?’
‘No, thanks.’ Audrey headed towards the fridge for a can of cola and Harrie watched as she left the kitchen. She felt absolutely awful for lying to Audrey, but she’d been caught off guard and really didn’t want the big showdown so soon. It was still the beginning of the holiday and she wanted to enjoy her time with her friends as a regular person because she knew that that was bound to change once she told them the truth. That terrible thing which was growing inside her would get all the attention. Her friends wouldn’t look at her in the same way. They would always see the cancer first and she couldn’t bear to see the pity and fear in their eyes. It had happened at her workplace. She’d had to be honest there when she’d given her notice. She had thought about just sneaking away, but that would be so cruel to the colleagues she cared about. The colleagues at the school she’d worked in for so many years had become like a family and she felt that she owed them the truth. But how awful it had been afterwards. It had seemed to her that the disease had reached out and touched so many more people than just its host and that really didn’t seem fair. So, after that, she’d tried to protect people from the truth for as long as possible.
And that’s exactly what she was doing now, she reminded herself. She was protecting her dearest friends, buying them time, allowing them to live in blissful ignorance and be happy for a little while longer.
She would tell them, just not yet.
There was nothing quite like a day spent in the sunshine with a good book, Lisa thought as she crossed the grass towards the priory and entered the cool stone building. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in months, even with her daily yoga practice. Truly, nothing beat quality time spent with friends.
After taking a bath in the monstrous tub in her en suite, which she was gradually becoming quite fond of, she slathered her skin in an expensive moisturiser she’d treated herself to for the holiday. If one couldn’t treat oneself to the occasional luxurious beauty product, life really wouldn’t be worth living. For a moment, she remembered the brief period of her life working in television when she had been on such a ridiculous salary that she’d been able to buy such items without thinking twice. But, now, on a part-time teaching salary, she usually couldn’t justify it.
Slowly, luxuriously, she stroked the cream into her arms and into the backs of her hands. Those ugly brown marks had begun to march across her skin. Liver spots. Ageing spots. Whatever they were, they were most unwelcome. Of course, hours spent in the sunshine didn’t help, but that was so good for the soul, wasn’t it? And what was more important: the skin or the soul? It was the same dilemma with food, wasn’t it? One was constantly weighing things up, trying to lead a balanced life where health and happiness went hand-in-hand.
But – oh – the ageing process was an unhappy one. Those little brown spots wielded such power over her psyche. They made her feel as if she was going mouldy, like an overripe pear. Then there were the lines around her eyes. Perhaps she smiled too much. Yes, she should definitely stop smiling. She smiled at that and then cursed herself for smiling again. If only one could freeze-frame life for a bit. It was all running away so quickly and she hated to look too far ahead and acknowledge the fact that the big five-o was looming in the not-too-distant future. Fifty! A woman should never have to hit fifty.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look nearly fifty, did she? Her agent used to tell her that she looked at least ten years younger than her age, only Lisa wasn’t sure that was still the case. Still, whenever she moaned about ageing, she reminded herself of the painful fact that her mother had never had that privilege. She’d died of cancer at just thirty-nine. That was no age at all, was it? And how odd it had been for Lisa to reach that age and then to go beyond it, each year becoming older than her own mother.
Looking at herself again, she could clearly see her mother’s image and, while there was comfort in that, there was a little pain too – a constant reminder of what she had lost.
Lisa yanked a rebellious grey hair from her parting. Her mother would have loved to have reached an age where grey hairs, ageing spots and laughter lines started to take over. And Lisa had to remember that whenever she thought she had the right to complain. Still, Lisa was trying to work in an industry where women were judged and measured by those very things. Youth ruled when it came to the world of television and Lisa guessed that her time was up unless a really good character role came in now. A soap-opera villain, perhaps? She’d like that. Or the mother of one of the latest hot actresses. A young mother, Lisa thought, pulling her face taut with her hands and wondering if she should try Botox or one of those face peels.
She checked her phone for messages. She rarely heard from her agent these days. Gone were the long, lazy lunches together in the corner of some fancy London restaurant. She didn’t get invited to those anymore. She was no longer a part of that inner clique. It still stung even after all these years because she knew she was a good actress. She’d proved herself with that one brilliant role and yet that seemed to count for nothing in this industry. She was yesterday’s news. So why was she still finding it so hard to accept? She really should have moved on with her life by now and settled into a full-time teaching job, but her heart just wasn’t in it. She still felt restless with ambition. And there was only one thing to do when she was feeling restless: yoga.
Changing into her yoga pants and choosing an apple-green top, Lisa grabbed her mat and headed out into the garden. The sun was lower in the sky now, but it was still pleasantly warm and she made her way to her favourite corner, where the herbs grew.
After a few settling breaths, Lisa closed her eyes and focused on the world within, letting all the little cares and worries of life slip away. You couldn’t see your laughter lines with your eyes closed, she thought, and then cursed herself for even having that thought. Then she cursed herself for cursing herself because one of the things she had learned through yoga was to acknowledge any thought that entered your head, not to judge yourself for having it but to simply let it pass through. And so she did her best to practise that, batting away all the silly thoughts that entered her mind, like had she brought her nail polish with her? She couldn’t remember. And should she have texted her agent just to keep in touch?
How hard it was to just live in the moment, she thought. There were always so many distractions from just simply being. The mind was a constant source of prey for the demons of the past and the worries of the future.
Lisa worked through a series of stretches, easin
g out the kinks of her body and aligning everything with her breath. She loved losing herself in the practice of yoga, and it was a true joy to do it in such beautiful surroundings.
It wasn’t until she’d finished her practice that she became aware that somebody was watching her. Turning around, she saw it was the handsome gardener with the piercing blue eyes. She frowned. He might well be handsome, but she didn’t like the idea of somebody watching her like that.
She decided to say something.
‘Get a kick out of spying on people, do you?’
He looked shocked. ‘Oh, sorry! I wasn’t. I mean, well, I kind of was, I suppose. Is that yoga you were doing?’
‘Well, of course it’s yoga. What did you think I was doing – weeding the garden at right angles?’
He smiled. He had a nice smile, she couldn’t help noticing.
‘It’s just that I was told to do a bit of yoga. I had an injury last year and my physio recommended it,’ he told her.
‘But you haven’t done any?’ she asked him.
He shrugged and Lisa nodded knowingly.
‘I see. You think you’re too young for yoga, don’t you? You think it’s for middle-aged people like me.’
‘No,’ he protested. ‘I just couldn’t imagine myself . . .’
‘What?’
‘Bending like that.’
‘It would probably do you good,’ Lisa told him. ‘What kind of injury was it?’
One Last Summer Page 8
