One Secret Summer (39 page)

The kitchen was as large as the entire ground floor of the Elswick house she’d called home. Stainless-steel worktops, a cool
palette of colours and textures; paintings, African masks, a long row of cookery books and on the table, several bottles of
opened red wine. She gulped. She looked down at her dress. Laura Ashley – clearly the wrong choice.

‘Aaron!’ Someone was coming towards them. Julia squinted through the sliding glass door. She’d taken off her glasses. The
figure emerged into clarity. It was Diana Pryce. ‘Darling, you’re here. At last.’ She came into the kitchen, holding her arms
out to her son. She lifted her face to be kissed.

‘Yes, sorry we’re a bit late.’

‘My fault,’ Julia said quickly. ‘I was late getting to his.’

Diana looked at her, her eyes widening a fraction at the sound of her voice. Julia recognised the look straight away.
Good God
, she seemed to be saying,
what have we here?
She held out a hand.
Julia took it. A limp, brief handshake, a wan smile and a quick sweep up and down the length of her, assessing her clothes,
hair, shoes … Julia’s fate was sealed. A working-class girl. Oh, dear.

‘Come and meet Rafe,’ Aaron said, putting a hand on hers. ‘Is Dad here?’

‘He’s upstairs. He went to get a record … something he wanted Maddy to hear.’ Diana turned and led the way. She hadn’t said
a word to Julia. There was a couple sitting in the shade of the leafy oak tree. The woman, a slender redhead, was all smiles.
The man looked up. Julia’s eyes widened. He and Aaron were so alike it was uncanny. It was like looking into Aaron’s face,
but with a few details either missing or altered very, very slightly. A mole above the left corner of his lip; blue eyes a
shade darker than Aaron’s; his hair was shorter, messier. Julia hung back as the brothers embraced but the woman turned her
head expectantly towards her and got up. Julia didn’t know whether to offer her cheek or her hand. The redhead solved the
problem.

‘It’s so
great
to meet you,’ she exclaimed, jumping up and kissing Julia on both cheeks. ‘I’ve heard so much about you!’

Julia recoiled immediately. She knew Aaron hadn’t said a thing about her to anyone, least of all this loud red-headed American
with a smile that showed far too many teeth. She felt Aaron’s hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards his brother.
Rafe’s welcome was more guarded.

‘Hello,’ he said, extending a hand. ‘I’m Rafe. Nice to meet you.’

‘Same here,’ Julia said faintly.

‘Here, have a seat … I’ll get another one.’ Rafe offered her his own. She sat down carefully, tucking her bare legs underneath
her. In her floral summer dress and plimsolls she felt childish and overdressed. Diana was wearing white linen pants and a
light blue kaftan. Simple, understated elegance of the sort Julia desired but never quite managed. Even Rafe’s wife looked
interesting – large gold hoop earrings and a long, swirling gypsy skirt. Julia accepted a drink from Aaron and concentrated
on finishing it in silence, nodding politely whenever something was said.

Lunch was served inside. The food was delicious –
bouillabaisse
, Diana said in a clearly perfect French accent. In honour of their upcoming holiday. Julia sat next to Aaron, answering questions
when they were directed at her. She liked Harvey, his father, immediately. He had an old-fashioned charm, a way of talking
to you that put you straight away at ease. His questions were thoughtful and to her surprise, she found herself volunteering
more information than she normally would. He asked about her family, her parents … were they still in Newcastle? She felt
Aaron stiffen beside her but she was able to answer, quite naturally, ‘No, they’re both dead. Car accident.’

‘Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry to hear that. Not recently, I hope?’ Harvey’s kind blue eyes were on her.

She shook her head. ‘No, it happened when I was fifteen.’

Maddy piped up suddenly. ‘Your parents
died
?
Both
of them? Oh my
God
!’ She stared at Julia. Julia flinched as if she’d been slapped.
It’s my loss, not yours
, she wanted to snap at her. She nodded coolly but it did nothing to stop Maddy’s gushing enquiries. ‘But how did you cope?
I mean, how
old
were you? Fifteen? You poor
thing
. That is just the
worst
thing ever.’

Julia was speechless. She set her wine glass carefully to one side and hurriedly excused herself from the table. Her eyes
were full of tears – but of rage, not sadness. How
dare
she? What had happened to her parents wasn’t the plot of a play. It was life –
her
life! Not Maddy’s, to be appropriated in some over-the-top performance. It took her fifteen minutes alone in the toilet to
calm down. When she returned to the table, Maddy was subdued. Clearly she’d understood the message: a step too far.

Three hours later, the ordeal was over. Julia and Aaron walked up Northumberland Park Road together, hand in hand. It was
a beautiful afternoon but Julia wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the sunlight. Her mind kept drifting back to the lunch. She
didn’t care for Maddy. Not in the slightest. There was something about her that set Julia’s teeth on edge. She tried too hard.
She
was too eager, too desperate to please. She laughed at jokes that weren’t funny and empathised to the point of absurdity.
But at least she’d had the sense to shut up after her silly little outburst over Julia’s parents. Julia wasn’t sure she could
have taken much more. As for Diana … well, she wasn’t what Julia had expected. Not at all. She was ice-cold, controlled and
controlling. She sat at the head of the table, her boys ranged alongside her, claiming them all. The two women present were
a minor and irritating distraction. Julia knew the type; Diana was a man’s woman. The sort of woman who loved her sons and
viewed their wives and girlfriends as nothing more than silly threats. She shivered suddenly, despite the warmth of the afternoon.
No, Diana Pryce wasn’t at all what she’d expected, but now that they’d met, she was somehow not surprised. She could sense
Diana’s presence in both Aaron and Rafe. There was a softness in them that was also a weakness – the effort, no doubt, of
living up to her and her exacting, painful demands.

As if on cue, Aaron turned to her suddenly. ‘What did you think of Diana?’ he asked, and the anxiety was back in his voice.

‘She’s … she’s lovely,’ Julia lied. ‘Quite formidable. I … I’m not sure she liked me much,’ she said after a moment.

‘Oh, she’ll warm up,’ Aaron said happily, relieved. ‘It takes her a while, you’ll see.’

Me too, Julia wanted to say, but didn’t. For the moment, she was happy her answer had pleased him. She began to think about
what to take to Mougins. In spite of her reservations about both Diana and Maddy, she was excited. In fact, she couldn’t bloody
wait. A two-week holiday in the south of France! ‘I’ve never been abroad before,’ she’d said to Diana over lunch.

Diana raised a perfect brow – just the one. ‘Never?’

Julia shook her head. ‘Nope. Not unless you count Scotland. And we drove.’

‘You’ve never been in an aeroplane?’ Aaron couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice.

Julia shook her head again, but before she could answer, Maddy leapt in. ‘Me neither,’ she said cheerfully. ‘The first time
I came to London, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep … I remember every minute of that plane ride, I promise you!’

Julia risked a quick glance at Diana’s face. Not one but
two
women in her house who were so clearly unsuitable it was laughable. Diana murmured something inaudible and the moment passed.

And now Diana would be forced to spend a fortnight with them. Two women who’d never been abroad, never been to private schools,
never had horse-riding lessons and couldn’t play the piano; doubtless neither of them could swim, pick a fine wine or say
bouillabaisse
in a way that wouldn’t make you wince. Despite it all, Julia had to smile. It just went to show … clearly Diana had spent
a lifetime controlling everything around her. She’d planned it all, right down to the last detail. The right schools, the
right homes, the right jobs … and then, at the eleventh hour, just when everything should have come together, both her boys
had turned around and done something else. An out-of-work American actress and a girl from Up North. You had to laugh.

I’ve done it again
, thought Maddy to herself miserably as the door closed behind Aaron and his girlfriend.
Over-the-top. Too loud, too friendly, too American
. She’d sensed Julia’s withdrawal as soon as she opened her mouth. Would she never get the balance right? With Diana she was
too reserved, too uptight, too sharp. With Julia she’d been too friendly, too effusive. She was no match for Diana’s cool,
offhand charm and she was convinced Harvey thought her dull. Even Aaron appeared to have forgotten her as soon as he turned
away. She seemed unable to hold anyone’s attention – ironic, given the fact that she was an actress. She’d studied Julia as
discreetly as she could. Glossy dark shoulder-length hair; straight thick eyebrows, pale, flawless skin. She was attractive
– even beautiful – but in a rather prickly, defensive sort of way. Her accent was very different to Rafe’s and Aaron’s – broader
and flatter, and harder for Maddy to understand. She said very little; occasionally her eyes settled upon Maddy.
What
in heaven’s name is Rafe doing with someone like you?
she seemed to be asking. Maddy had none of the poise and sophistication that the English women she’d met seemed to have.
Julia’s flowered frock and white plimsolls seemed to Maddy to be the epitome of European chic. Her own full, gathered skirt
in a patchwork of contrasting patterns, her peasant-style blouse with its frilled, embroidered neckline and her gold hoop
earrings suddenly seemed cheap and silly. She slid a little further down in her seat. She found herself in awe of Julia, even
though she’d barely opened her mouth. She was also a barrister … she’d been to Oxford, of course – a younger, even more reserved
version of Diana, in other words. She would fit in perfectly, thought Maddy enviously, whereas she simply never would. Never.

JULIA

Mougins, July 1997

The car wound its way through the pine and olive groves, each bend a fraction sharper and tighter than the last. They were
climbing steadily into the hills above Cannes. She and Aaron would be the first to arrive. ‘Nearly there,’ Aaron said, taking
a hand off the steering wheel and placing it on her thigh. ‘You’ll love it, I promise.’

Julia was speechless. She sat beside him, unable to tear her eyes away from the landscape. Mile after mile of thickly carpeted
dark green foliage, broken every now and then by the upright index finger of a cypress or a village spire. The soft stone-walled
farmhouses and villas were nestled into the hills, an escape from both the sun and prying eyes. At the top of a hill where
the road forked, Aaron turned down a narrow lane. ‘Just down here,’ he said, steering the car over the rutted tracks. ‘Look
– there’s the
oak tree we used to swing on when we were young. It belongs to old Cassoux, the neighbour. Dad built a sleeping platform one
summer, and when we came back the next, he’d pulled it down. He can’t stand us. Never could.’

‘How long have you been coming here?’ Julia asked, craning her head to take in the view. It was more peaceful than anything
she’d ever seen.

‘We’ve had it for ever. Since I was two, I think. My grandparents used to have a villa here … Harvey and Diana used to come
here as kids. Diana’s always doing something to it … new bathrooms, new kitchen … she loves it.’

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Julia said, leaning out of the window and taking the scent of pine and the lemony tang of citrus groves down
into her lungs. ‘I’d never want to leave. Ooh … is that it? That little white gate?’ she exclaimed suddenly.

‘Yep. That’s it.’

She almost pounded her knees in childish excitement. She opened the door as soon as Aaron pulled the car to a halt and got
out. A white gate set into a thick yellow stone wall. Huge bunches of pink oleanders, a row of pale green olive trees, a gnarled
old cedar – she pushed open the gate and ran ahead of Aaron. The farmhouse at the end of the short track had ochrecoloured
walls and pale blue shutters; one side was covered entirely in ivy mixed with a yellow flowering plant of some description.
It was August and everything was in flower. She slowed to a halt as she approached the front door. She and Aaron were the
first to arrive. They would have the place to themselves for a night; Diana and Harvey were due to arrive the following afternoon,
and then Rafe and Maddy were flying into Cannes that evening. She stopped in front of the door, overcome with a sudden shyness.
What wouldn’t her mother have given to come somewhere like this?

The entrance hall was cool and dark; the shutters were still drawn against the late afternoon sun. There was a partially open
door to her left. She pushed it open and found herself in an
enormous kitchen. A huge wooden table dominated the room – hanging above it, Provence-style, were scores of copper pans and
utensils. A jug of freshly cut flowers stood in the centre of the table, releasing the sweet scent of lilacs and roses into
the air. She stood in the middle of the room, looking dazedly around her. It looked like something out of a magazine. She
wandered back into the hallway. The stone floor was covered with a beautifully intricate pale yellow and cream rug that ran
the length of the hall. Diana’s hand was everywhere – interesting-looking paintings on the walls, a piece of exquisite pottery
here, a small carving there … to her left was an African mask that stood proud of the wall, a densely patterned riot of lines
and deeply scored grooves. It was beautiful. Everything was beautiful.

‘We’re upstairs.’ Aaron came through the front door, dragging suitcases behind him. ‘I’ll bring these up. It’s the top room,
second flight of stairs.’