One Last Summer

by Connelly, Victoria

  ‘I think there might be somebody else wanting to enjoy a holiday here tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, but they’re not as important as us, are they?’ Lisa said.

  Harrie grinned. ‘I don’t think they’d see it like that.’

  ‘I thought this summer would last forever,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Forever doesn’t last as long these days, does it?’ Harrie said.

  ‘No,’ Audrey agreed. ‘Remember when you were a child and the summer holidays seemed to stretch endlessly? I wish we could get that feeling back again, although I have felt it here this summer – that wonderful feeling of everything going on forever.’

  ‘Have you?’ Harrie asked, and Audrey nodded.

  ‘I just wish it could last a little bit longer.’

  Harrie smiled, doing her very best to hold the tears back. ‘Me too.’

  Later, in her room, Harrie looked at her reflection in the old mottled mirror. It seemed a shame to have to take her tiara off, but she couldn’t very well sleep in it, could she? Slowly, her hands reached up and she gently removed it, holding it in her hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Would she ever get a chance to wear it again, she wondered? Possibly not. But it had made her feel positively regal for the space of one evening and that was enough. It was another of those little life moments she’d promised herself. The sort that you had to go out and meet halfway. The summer had been filled with wonderful moments and she remembered some of them now, from her arrival at the priory and walking through the hushed cloisters for the first time to welcoming her friends. She remembered Samson’s angel and the misericords he’d shown her. She remembered his big dusty boots, and the way he’d held her in his arms when she’d cried. She remembered Honor’s revelation about Benny, and Lisa’s meditation session with the candles.

  She smiled as her mind leapt from one memory to the next. There’d been the power cut and dancing in the rain. Cake-cutting, tiara-wearing, pool-swimming, meadow-walking, food-sharing and laughing. Lots of laughing.

  Such heart-warming, soul-enriching memories.

  ‘And I won’t forget a single one,’ she told herself.

  Chapter 22

  The suitcases were packed.

  Harrie stood in the middle of the kitchen. Audrey and Lisa had decanted the food from the fridge into cool bags and were now sitting in the garden waiting for Harrie to join them. It was nine thirty, which meant they had just half an hour until they officially had to leave. She took a deep breath, slowly walking through the downstairs rooms in case a stray novel had been left on the arm of a chair or a sun hat left hanging from a peg. But all was tidy. All trace of the three women had been removed, which meant she had one last thing to do.

  Picking up her handbag, Harrie made her way through the cool morning cloisters towards the chapel, listening out for the light tap-tap-tap of Samson’s chisel. How she would miss coming here, she thought, wondering if the next group of holidaymakers would appreciate Samson as much as she had come to. Or would they see him as an annoyance and something to be endured? She truly hoped not.

  ‘Hello?’ she called as she approached the scaffolding.

  ‘Harrie?’

  ‘For the last time, I’m afraid. We’re just about ready to leave.’

  His sandy head popped over the top and he beckoned to her with a hand.

  ‘I can come up?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course you can. I’ve got something to show you today.’

  Putting her handbag down, she grasped the side of the ladder with nervous fingers, wondering what it was Samson wanted to share with her.

  ‘Hey,’ she said once she reached the top. ‘So, what have you been hiding from me all this time?’

  ‘The angel,’ he said.

  ‘Have you finished work on her?’

  ‘Yep. She’s all done. Safe now for another few hundred years. But there’s something else.’

  ‘What?’

  He pointed to a stone just behind the angel’s left wing. Harrie peered closely and spotted a mark in the golden limestone. It was an ‘H’.

  ‘Oh, how wonderful!’ she said. ‘Your stonemason’s mark?’

  Samson glanced at her and shook his head. ‘Not exactly.’

  Harrie frowned. ‘Is that not “H” for Haverstock?’ she asked.

  Samson rubbed his chin. ‘No,’ he told her. ‘It’s “H” for Harriet.’

  ‘You did this – for me?’

  ‘Of course for you! This is your angel, Harrie.’

  She looked at the angel once again, at the serene face and the strong wings. ‘My angel?’

  ‘She’s looking out for you,’ he told her. ‘I’m sure of it.’

  Harrie reached out, her hand shaking as she sought to touch the beautiful single letter carved deep into the golden stone. H for Harriet. She really didn’t know what to say and so she did the only thing she could and hugged Samson.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve no idea what this means to me.’

  She felt his arms close around her, awkwardly at first as if he hadn’t expected such a display of emotion, but then she felt him relax and she heard him sigh. They stood like that for a moment, the silence of the chapel filling their souls.

  ‘I have something for you,’ she said at last, pulling away from him. ‘But you’ll have to come back down to earth to get it.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said.

  Harrie took one last look at her angel, smiling up at the beautifully carved ‘H’ above her wing. Would anybody else ever see it, she wondered? Or would it be her and Samson’s secret forever? Perhaps a future stonemason would find it and speculate on the identity of the mysterious ‘H’.

  Quickly, quietly, she got her phone out of her jacket pocket and took a photo.

  ‘I want to take her with me,’ she told Samson, and he nodded in understanding before the two of them climbed down the ladder to the chapel floor.

  Harrie walked across to the chair where she’d left her handbag, opening it up to retrieve the little blue hardback book she’d placed inside.

  ‘It’s not much but I wanted to give you something to remember me by,’ she said as she handed the book to Samson. ‘It’s got some pictures of the priory and the first church you took me to see.’

  ‘Has it?’

  ‘Yes. There’s a whole page about the misericords there.’

  He opened the book.

  ‘I’ve written in the front so you can’t resell it now,’ she said with a little laugh.

  She watched as he read her inscription.

  To Samson. Thank you for making my summer so special. With love, Harriet. x

  He looked up at her. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  They stood looking at each other for what seemed like an age and then he moved forward an inch, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek in a gentle caress.

  ‘You’re special, Harrie.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Yes, you are. And I won’t ever forget you.’

  Somewhere high above them came the feathery sound of a dove in flight. Harrie was going to miss the jackdaws and the doves that lived amongst the ruins, filling the air alternately with raucous calls then soft ones. She’d miss the brilliant pink valerian growing out of the stonework at bold angles. She’d miss the gentle sound of the trees that cushioned the priory from the outside world, and she’d miss the cool stone floors and the shadows in the cloisters.

  But, most of all, she’d miss Samson.

  Reaching out, she took his left hand in her right one and held it for a moment.

  ‘I’m going to go now,’ she told him. ‘My friends are waiting outside and my daughter’s come down to drive me home.’

  ‘Shall I—’

  ‘Stay here. Please,’ she said quickly. ‘Don’t come with me and don’t let’s say goodbye.’

  Samson nodded, his bright eyes watching her attentively.

  She smiled, trying to capture the beauty of his
face in her memory because she knew that she’d need it in the weeks to come. Then she leaned forward and kissed his rough cheek.

  ‘Harrie . . .’

  She felt him squeeze her hand and then she slowly removed her own, turning around and quickly leaving the chapel.

  Once outside, she looked up into a sky the colour of forget-me-nots. The sun was climbing and the day was already warm and filled with the scent of lavender.

  Audrey and Lisa were sitting on the bench in the courtyard next to Honor. Harrie was glad to see her daughter. She was feeling tired all of a sudden, as if the whole of the summer was just catching up with her.

  ‘There you are!’ Lisa called, waving to her.

  Harrie approached them, hugging her daughter close to her before taking one last glance back at the priory.

  ‘Ready?’ Audrey asked.

  Harrie turned to face them and nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m ready.’

  The Next Summer

  There were three women sitting in the courtyard garden of Melbury Priory and each was wearing a gold tree-of-life necklace.

  ‘I’m really glad we booked this place again even if it is just for three nights,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Me too,’ Audrey agreed. ‘Harrie would approve, wouldn’t she?’

  Honor nodded. ‘I’m so glad I came back.’

  ‘You should have brought Benny with you,’ Lisa said.

  ‘No, he wanted to stay in Rome. I’m going to join him there next week. Then we’ll be going on to Sicily.’

  ‘Oh, to be young and travelling the world!’ Audrey said with a sigh.

  ‘What are you complaining about?’ Lisa said. ‘You’ve got the whole of Norfolk to enjoy and explore!’

  ‘Yes, but only between guests,’ Audrey said. ‘I had no idea running a bed and breakfast would be so full-on!’

  ‘Surely not as full-on as running your school?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Oh, no! Nothing could ever compete with that.’ Audrey grinned. ‘You know, I never thought I’d say this, but Mike was right. I don’t really miss London at all.’

  Lisa did a double-take. ‘Really?’

  ‘I thought I might pine a bit, but I honestly haven’t. I think we made a really good decision selling up in the suburbs.’

  ‘And your business? Do you miss that?’ Honor asked.

  Audrey took a moment before answering. ‘There’s something about being close to the sea,’ she said at last.

  Lisa laughed. ‘What kind of an answer is that?’

  ‘It means, no – I don’t miss it.’

  ‘No? Do you think she’s telling the truth, Honor, because I’m not convinced?’

  ‘I think she is,’ Honor said.

  Audrey laughed at their confusion. ‘I must admit that I rang the office a few times after handing everything over to my replacement. But, after that, Mike and I were so involved with getting our new home sorted and planning the bed and breakfast that I really didn’t give it another thought.’

  ‘Good old Mike,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Yes,’ Audrey agreed. ‘I’m a very lucky woman.’

  A few moments passed.

  ‘Are you still in touch with Alfie?’ Audrey asked Lisa.

  ‘We’ve exchanged a few texts,’ Lisa told her. ‘I got a postcard from him last week. He’s taking a group of students to the Swiss Alps next month.’

  ‘He’ll be climbing Everest before you know it,’ Audrey said.

  ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised.’

  ‘And how’s the yoga?’ Honor asked.

  ‘Fantastic! I’ve got three venues fully booked for residential courses later this summer and the weekly classes are going well too.’

  ‘Oh, that’s great, Lisa! I’m so proud of you,’ Audrey said.

  Lisa beamed at her friend’s approval. ‘It was such a relief to give up all that commercial work.’

  ‘So you haven’t missed being an actress?’ Honor asked.

  ‘Not a bit!’ Lisa told her, sighing in satisfaction.

  It had been a beautiful day. The three women had walked out to the coast, wending their way back through the fields and the orchard and, every step of the way, they’d talked about or thought about Harrie. When they’d got back to the priory, they’d looked through the photo album Honor had made up of all the pictures they’d taken during that special summer holiday.

  It had been seven months since that cold December day when they’d attended her funeral. The pain of losing her had been almost unbearable and the only reason they’d got through it was each other.

  Audrey looked at Honor now as she gazed up at the clear summer sky. Harrie’s beautiful daughter. A living legacy and a constant reminder of her mother’s precious presence in their lives. Audrey smiled and then got up from her chair.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘Just for a walk.’

  ‘Well, don’t be too long,’ Lisa told her. ‘I’m going to make us cocktails for sundown.’

  Audrey nodded and made her way across the grass. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going, but something drew her towards the cloisters and, from there, to the chapel, her light summer shoes almost silent on the stone floor.

  The scaffolding had long gone and it was hard to see what exactly Samson had been working on all those weeks. Harrie had known more about it than Audrey had. The work had fascinated her friend.

  Audrey walked into the centre of the room, listening to the doves and looking up to admire the fan-vaulted ceiling, and that’s when she saw it. At first, she couldn’t quite make out what it was because it was so high up but, as she let her eyes focus, she could clearly see a beautiful angel carved in stone. It seemed strange that she hadn’t noticed it last summer, but perhaps it had been obscured by the scaffolding.

  She stood there for a few minutes, taking in the beauty of the place, the silence and the solitude, and then she turned to look at the angel again. There was something about it that made her smile, but she wasn’t quite sure what. Maybe it was the gentle expression on its face or the way it seemed to be waving to her with those wonderful golden wings.

  Audrey gazed at it for a little while longer, and then it came to her. She was quite certain about it and yet a part of her knew that she was being fanciful. All the same, as she slowly walked away from the chapel, she couldn’t help feeling that their dear friend Harrie was watching over them all.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  When writing this novel, I was inspired by a wonderful post Leah Bracknell wrote on her Facebook page. Known for her role in Emmerdale, Leah was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer in 2016. I hope I managed to capture some of her spirit and joy for life in my character, Harrie.

  With her kind permission, here is Leah’s post:

  Dearest friends,

  Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for your continued love and support. I truly feel it envelop me, and feel humbled, and so blessed, and grateful. It is magic and divine medicine, and its power is profound and deeply healing, and I wish I could share more of it around.

  I am not frail, nor victim, nor sufferer, tragic, stricken, battling, dying. Labels not of my choosing. I choose – warrior, spirit, invincible, joy, love, grace, beauty, empowered, journey, adventure, growth, healing, laughter. I choose that having cancer makes me bigger, not smaller. I choose to celebrate LIFE. Come with me. Dance with me. Walk with me. Let us celebrate life together.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To my wonderful friends Linda Gillard and Ellie Mead, who let me ask so many questions about their cancer and were so open and giving in their answers. You are two of the strongest and bravest women I know.

  To my yogini, Sophia – thank you for teaching me how to stretch . . . and breathe!

  To the publishing team at Lake Union, especially Sammia, Victoria and Bekah. It’s a pleasure working with you all.

  And to my husband, Roy – remembering that wonderful holiday at Woodspring Priory.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR
/>   Photo © 2016 Roy Connelly

  Victoria Connelly studied English Literature at Worcester University, got married in a medieval castle in the Yorkshire Dales and now lives in rural Suffolk with her artist husband, a young springer spaniel and a flock of ex-battery hens.

  She is the author of two bestselling series, Austen Addicts and The Book Lovers, as well as many other novels and novellas. Her first published novel, Flights of Angels, was made into a film in 2008 by Ziegler Films in Germany. The Runaway Actress was shortlisted for the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s Romantic Comedy Novel award.

  Ms Connelly loves books, films, walking, historic buildings and animals. If she isn’t at her keyboard writing, she can usually be found in her garden either with a trowel in her hand or a hen on her lap.

  Her website is www.victoriaconnelly.com and readers can follow her on Twitter @VictoriaDarcy and on Instagram @VictoriaConnellyAuthor.