A Summer to Remember (4 page)

It was Mrs Milton.

Nina watched for a moment, just to be sure, smiling at the memories that were resurfacing, before summoning up the courage to speak.

‘Mrs Milton?’ Nina’s voice was quiet, but obviously startled the woman.

‘Yes?’ she said, turning around in surprise.

Nina cleared her throat. ‘I don’t know if you’ll remember, but I used to babysit for you. I’m Nina Elliot.’ Nina watched in amazement as the woman’s face beamed, her eyes crinkling at the edges.

‘
Neena!
Gracious! I don’t believe it. Are you all right?’

‘Yes, very well, thank you.’

‘No – I mean – after what happened.’

‘Pardon?’ Nina was puzzled. How on earth could Mrs Milton have heard that she’d walked out of her job?

‘Dominic – the car – he told me all about it.’

‘Car? But I don’t have a car,’ she said.

‘No –
his
car. You know – he nearly ran you over. I was terribly worried. Silly boy.’

Nina’s expression remained one of complete bafflement but then the cogs of her memory slowly turned, releasing the image of the stern face at the traffic lights, the car horns, the panic, the half-recognition.

It had been Dominic. Little Dommie Milton whom she’d once tucked up into bed; the little boy who’d once woken her up because of a nightmare involving giant sunflowers. This same little boy had nearly run her over.

‘Oh, yes!’ Nina exclaimed, ‘But I didn’t know it was him. I mean, I thought I recognised him, but—’

‘But you’re okay?’

‘Yes! Absolutely fine. It was my fault really,’ Nina said. ‘I just wasn’t thinking straight, but I’m fine, thank you.’

‘What a relief. Honestly. He goes around in a dream, that boy. He really shouldn’t be behind a wheel at all. Well, other than a potter’s wheel.’

‘Gosh, how is everyone?’ Nina asked with a smile, trying to imagine the young boys who would all be grown men now.

‘Oh, very well – very well,’ Olivia enthused. ‘Billy’s working in London as a pilot and taking off all over the place. Alex has had about twenty different jobs since graduating and can’t seem to settle to any one of them, and Dommie’s just graduated from art school and is preparing for his first art show in Norwich.’

Nina beamed a smile. ‘You must be so proud of them all.’

‘Oh, I am!’ Olivia said. ‘And you wouldn’t
believe
it but Dudley and I have our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary this summer,’ she said, as if not quite believing it herself.

‘Oh, congratulations!’

‘Thank you,’ Olivia paused and then her forehead crinkled, ‘only there’s so much to organise! We’ve never thrown such a big party before. We’re having a marquee set up in the garden and a band and balloons and flowers – the works! It’s almost as much fuss as our wedding day.’

‘It sounds like it’s going to be a lot of fun,’ Nina said, remembering the times she’d joined the Miltons for lunches and dinners at the mill and how splendid they’d made even the simplest of meals, with the great table set with silver, glass and fine china. She couldn’t imagine how splendid an anniversary party was going to be.

‘And you
must
come along, Nina! We’d love to have you as our guest,’ Olivia said. ‘Now, would you mind
awfully
if I looked in your basket? I’ve come out without my shopping list and I’ve gone completely blank. I can’t remember a
single
thing we need.’

‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Nina said, trying not to grin as she remembered the wonderful forgetfulness of her former employer.

Olivia looked thoughtful. Milk, bread, a tub of margarine, a small box of nasty-looking soap powder, bananas and an economy pack of tissues.

‘See – I haven’t got any of those. TOILET PAPER!’ Olivia shouted, startling a passer-by before taking off into the next aisle, leaving Nina to stand guard over her trolley. She really was a case. Nina had never managed to work out how she could host a dinner party for twelve and bring up three boys, but never know where to find her lipstick.

‘Here!’ Olivia said, returning with two bumper-sized packs of toilet paper. ‘Thank goodness I ran into you. My head is spinning so much with everything at the moment that the simplest things seem to elude me. Anyway, I simply can’t believe how many years it is since we all saw you. There’s
so
much to catch up on.’

‘Yes,’ Nina said, trying to remember exactly how many years it had been since she’d last visited the mill. She’d stopped babysitting for the Miltons after going to university, and that was ten years ago now.

‘So, what are you doing with yourself these days?’ Olivia asked her.

Nina bit her lower lip. It was the question bound to be asked sooner or later, but she hadn’t had time to prepare an adequate answer, not thinking she’d ever meet anyone she knew during a weekday trip to the supermarket.

‘Secretarial work,’ she said. ‘Actually, I’ve just finished a job that was – well,’ she paused, ‘it wasn’t right for me and I’m trying to find something that fits, you know? Something where I can really make a difference and feel valued.’

Olivia nodded. ‘Well, you were always valued at the mill. You were our favourite babysitter. You had
such
a way with our boys. You deserve nothing but the best,’ Olivia said, smiling kindly and then her eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment. ‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘I’ve had the most wonderful idea. You said you’re looking for a job?’

Nina nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said warily.

‘Then I might just have the very thing for you,’ she continued, her eyes widening. ‘How about popping over to the mill tomorrow morning. Are you free?’

‘I am,’ Nina said.

‘Excellent!’ Olivia said. ‘Oh, how exciting this is. I can’t believe it. First, Dommie nearly runs you over and then I run
into
you! I tell you, this is fate, Nina. It really is. Now, don’t forget about tomorrow – mid-morning?’

Nina nodded, wondering what on earth Olivia had in mind for her.

‘Oh, God! I’ve forgotten the mince!’ Olivia suddenly exclaimed, grabbing her trolley and executing a quick three-point turn, narrowly avoiding the tins of custard. ‘See you tomorrow, Nina!’

‘Goodbye, Mrs Milton,’ Nina called after her, watching Olivia waltz away with her errant trolley.

Grabbing a bottle of tomato sauce in a brand she’d never heard of, but that was offering twenty per cent free, Nina felt a definite skip in her step as she headed towards the check-out. She was going to visit The Old Mill House. With the river rushing by it and buttercup fields and bluebell woods on the doorstep, it was a little piece of paradise in the heart of the Norfolk countryside. It had been years since she’d been there, years since she’d even thought about it, but it had always held a special place in her heart. It would be wonderful to see it again – wonderful to see the boys again. Perhaps, Nina thought, this was the very door she’d been looking to open.

Chapter Four

Olivia couldn’t wait to get home. For once in her life, she’d managed to leave the supermarket with more than a carrier bag filled with magazines and what her husband referred to as ‘entertaining food’. No, this time she had real, edible food that would fill bellies and, what was more, a piece of news she couldn’t wait to tell Dominic.

The narrow winding Norfolk lanes almost shook as she drove home and the thick hawthorn hedges seemed to tremble as Olivia took a corner a little too fast here and braked a little too hard there. She knew she was the perfect picture of the sort of woman men cursed to see behind a wheel, and it had only been a few minutes since she’d been telling Nina that it was Dominic who shouldn’t be driving. If there was such a thing as driving genes, Dominic had certainly inherited his from his mother.

Turning into the unmade lane that led to The Old Mill House, Olivia heard the bottles of wine clinking on the back seat and slowed her speed, winding her window down to inhale the sweet perfume of the hedgerows. It really was the most perfect place, she thought, and that was saying something for the girl who’d seen the world as a cruise director on The Sea Queen.

That was how she’d met Dudley, of course. He’d been accompanying his elderly mother on holiday and, after playing Cupid on behalf of her shy son, Delia Milton had had the pleasure of welcoming Olivia to the quiet corner of Norfolk that the Miltons had owned for decades. Olivia had known that her voyaging days were over, but she had happily settled into the role of wife and mother, dedicating herself to her husband and three boys, and throwing herself into every committee going, organising charity events and jumble sales for the local church as well as the village horticultural show.

Even though her three boys were now all grown-up and independent, her time was still wonderfully full, she thought, as the car bumped down the lane. She shook her head. Ever since her arrival as Dudley’s bride, he had said he’d get the overgrown and pothole-filled lane into some sort of order, but Olivia rather liked it. It added to the overall charm of the place and she adored the feeling of leaving the tarmac and venturing onto the bare earth.

She bounced along, her eyes darting about the hedgerows, which were a froth of white cow parsley, as her nails drummed a pink tattoo on the steering wheel. Since the meeting in the supermarket, her mind had been working overtime.

‘Secretarial work … I’m trying to find something that fits,’ Nina had said. It seemed almost
too
perfect, what with the organisation of the anniversary party and her husband’s current helplessness. Olivia knew that, as a struggling author, Dudley really couldn’t operate without a secretary and, since ‘Teri with an i’ had walked out, his mind, as well as his study, had been in dire need of organisation. He’d been driving everyone potty lately, wandering around the house, looking for someone, anyone, to drag back into his study and help him clear up the mess.

‘How am I expected to do
everything
?’ he’d rail, as if he really had lost the plot completely. Honestly, Olivia had always been under the impression that writing a novel was a nice, relaxing sort of a pastime, but Dudley made the whole experience sound horribly painful. She often wondered why he didn’t give it all up and just play golf instead. It would have been much simpler.

She shook her head in despair as she thought of her husband. She’d never washed so many dishes in her life as recently, quickly learning that, as soon as his footsteps were heard on the hallway tiles, a quick dip in the sink gave her the perfect pardon from the dreaded typing duties. But that was no answer to the problem. ‘Teri with an i’ hadn’t been perfect, but at least she’d been present. However, Dudley’s terrible temper had obviously been too much for the poor girl to handle – although Olivia had her suspicions that her middle son, Alex, might also have had something to do with Teri leaving so suddenly, without an explanation. Alex was usually at the root of any problems to do with young ladies and, with him planning to come home for part of the summer, The Old Mill House would no doubt become one giant light-bulb, with the county’s female population playing moths.

Honestly, she despaired of her sons sometimes. Alex, with half of Norfolk’s girls after him as if he were some sort of Pied Piper of passion, and Dominic, dreaming his life away into his paintings. Then there was Billy – her beloved eldest – who seemed to work all the hours God gave him, but still hadn’t sorted himself out in the girl department. Olivia rolled her eyes. Sometimes she felt as if she was a modern-day Mrs Bennet, only with sons instead of daughters to marry off.

Crunching her car into a position that wasn’t quite straight and that would be testily commented on later by her husband, she grabbed the bags of shopping and practically ran into the house.

‘Dommie? Dud? Anyone at home?’ she called into the echoing hallway.

The house was quiet apart from the excited barks of Ziggy. She walked through to the kitchen, gave Ziggy a dog treat to shut him up and sat on one of the stools, shopping bags surrounding her, looking at the antique clock on the wall that was always set ten minutes fast and knowing that she should really make a start on lunch. But it was too late; her eyes had caught sight of one of the bottles of wine. Not too early for a drink, was it? She’d just make it a quick one, give herself a chance to flip through the magazines and catch up on the celebrity gossip.

Nina sighed as she picked up the telephone. Her eyes ached as she read the tiny print of the local newspaper. Situations Vacant. Nina knew why they were vacant, too. Badly paid, badly run companies with no perks and definitely no prospects – but she nevertheless felt compelled to find out what her options were on the job front. But would this one be any different from the others she’d circled?

‘Hello, can I speak to Mrs Anne Conti, please?’

There was a pause as the receptionist transferred her call to the human resources department via a blast of Vivaldi.

‘Hello? Is that Mrs Conti? My name’s Nina Elliot. I’ve just seen your advertisement for a secretary and was wondering if you could send me an … oh, really? So quickly? Okay. Thank you for your time.’

Nina hung up and drew another neat red line across the paper. Internal applicant no doubt, she thought, realising she’d been through half the paper without any success.

She got up and crossed the room, looking out of her flat window and up into a sky the colour of forget-me-nots. It was a lovely day again, and she was looking forward to visiting Olivia. Images as pretty as a Monet painting filled her mind. The Old Mill House. Green fields stretching to the horizon, a garden overflowing with flowers, the river – rushing and rousing – the perfect restorative. She hadn’t thought much about Olivia’s mention of a job the day before. She hadn’t dared to. Remembering Olivia from her time at the mill, it was probably something like arranging the flowers on her hallway table or helping out with the weekly shop. Anyway, it was nothing that was likely to add up to a living wage, Nina thought with a sigh. Besides, the idea of returning to the mill and actually working there was just too good to be true.