Summer Season (22 page)

The next morning, Kezzie woke up feeling even worse than she had on Sunday. She’d barely slept all night, fretting about what she was going to do. Lauren wouldn’t be at all impressed to discover that her newly restored lover had come on so strongly to her friend on Saturday. Thinking about it, she wasn’t even sure that Lauren would believe her. Would she if it were the other way round? It would sound like sour grapes, even though it wasn’t. She sighed heavily. She couldn’t deal with it now. Best she got to work. She had ivy and rosemary bushes to plant.

Kezzie made her way up to Joel’s, past Lauren’s house. The curtains were still firmly drawn, leading Kezzie to draw her own conclusions. She couldn’t possibly tell Lauren what had really happened on Saturday. Luckily everyone else who knew about it had gone home, and she was assuming Troy wouldn’t be so stupid as to come clean. Kezzie hated herself for keeping silent – it went against the grain – but she knew it was the only thing she could do right now.

When she got to Joel’s the sun was already strong in the sky, despite the early hour. It was shaping up to be a lovely day.

Joel was already strapping Sam into the car when she arrived.

‘You’re early today,’ she said.

‘Yup,’ said Joel. ‘Didn’t want to hang about this morning. I think it’s best I drop Sam and run, considering what an idiot I made of myself on Saturday.’

‘Ah,’ said Kezzie. ‘I think I should probably warn you—’

‘About what?’

‘I’m really sorry. It looks as if Lauren had company last night. I saw Troy go round there, and I haven’t seen him leave.’

‘Well, he’s crashed on the sofa before,’ said Joel quickly. ‘And Lauren’s been adamant that they’re not getting back together.’

‘Maybe,’ said Kezzie. ‘But they did look pretty friendly.’

‘What a sod!’ said Joel. ‘To be with you one minute, then end up with Lauren the next. That’s pretty crap.’

‘I know,’ said Kezzie. ‘I feel so bad about it.’

‘Are you going to tell her?’

‘How can I?’ said Kezzie. ‘Oh, by the way, Lauren, I snogged your boyfriend on Saturday night.’

‘I can’t say anything,’ said Joel. ‘She’ll think I’m making it up.’

‘True,’ said Kezzie. ‘I guess we’ll just have to leave it for now.’

‘I guess we will.’

They looked at one another gloomily.

‘I just hope she sees sense quickly,’ said Kezzie.

When Joel had gone, Kezzie set off down the garden with her barrow loaded with plants that Joel had bought at the garden centre. She was still feeling agitated, but an hour or two in the garden was a great tonic, and by lunchtime, when she stopped to survey her handiwork, she was feeling much calmer. The interwoven pattern of box, ivy and rosemary was beginning to take shape, and she could see the patterns clearly. She had filled in the spaces with her chosen plants, and now she was working on the borders, filling
them with heartsease and forget me nots and gloxinia. In a few months she’d transformed the place, and she felt rightly proud of her achievements.

Kezzie still felt bad about what had happened with Troy. She would never have even looked at him sober. And at the moment there was no way she could tell Lauren, so it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. Kezzie couldn’t see another way round it, even if it meant Lauren had to find out about Troy the hard way.

Joel walked down the path to Lauren’s house with a heavy heart. Not only had he blown it with her, he had the sneaking suspicion he might have sent her running straight into Troy’s arms. But there was nothing he could do. If he tried to tell Lauren what a two-timing bugger her boyfriend was, she’d never believe him. Besides, she’d evidently got it fixed in her head he was a lothario, and she wouldn’t be interested in anything Joel might have to say on the subject of Troy. If she only knew the complete soullessness and misery of the assignations he’d had since Claire died.

He knocked on the door, and after a little while Lauren answered, looking flustered.

‘Oh. Er, Joel. You’re early.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Early meeting. So I got here sooner. Hope that’s OK.’

‘Yes, fine,’ said Lauren. ‘I’m er – running a bit late.’

Lauren was obviously trying to hide the fact that Troy was there, Joel thought. She was blushing in a completely charming manner and never had she seemed more desirable to Joel. She was positively glowing. He cursed himself for an idiot of monumental proportions for having failed to see it before. Faint heart had lost fair lady, and to an undeserving rat at that.

‘Hey, babes, who’s there?’ Troy’s voice floated from the lounge.

‘Just Joel,’ said Lauren, blushing scarlet.

Joel was at a loss as to what to do. Should he acknowledge Troy’s presence, and add to Lauren’s discomfort, or ignore him? His heart was churned up. He couldn’t bear to think of Lauren being with anyone but him, but it was particularly galling to think of her with Troy. He opened his mouth to try and say something, but no coherent words seemed to want to come out.

‘Lauren—’ he began.

‘Yes?’ She looked at him, so flushed and pretty his courage deserted him. What could he say to her when she looked so happy, knowing that it wasn’t him who’d made her so?

Cowardice being the easiest option, he thrust Sam into Lauren’s arms.

‘Got to go,’ he gabbled. ‘I’ll miss my meeting.’

‘Your meeting. Of course,’ said Lauren, seemingly glad of the excuse. ‘Come on, Sam, let’s go and find those girls, shall we?’

Joel fled down the path, part relieved and part infuriated. How could she have gone back to Troy after everything she’d said about him? It didn’t seem right.

Lauren spent the day in a cloud. She’d been so reluctant to let Troy back into her life, but it seemed he really had changed. He took the girls to school with her, helped her tidy the house and even came to the park with her and Sam before his afternoon shift at the pub. He promised to come round the next evening, when neither of them was working, happy to settle for a takeaway and night in front of the telly. Something the old Troy would never have contemplated. Lauren was trying not to hope for too much, but suddenly the possibility of a proper family life seemed
to be within her grasp. It would be foolish of her not to grab the opportunity with both hands.

Lauren was almost skipping as she pushed Sam’s buggy down the road to school in the afternoon. The sun was shining, she thought she might truly be in love, and all seemed right in the world. On the way back up the hill as she was chasing after the twins who’d run on ahead, she bumped into Kezzie coming back from work.

‘You’re finished early, aren’t you?’ said Lauren.

‘I got to a point where I couldn’t do any more. I was waiting a delivery of compost, which hasn’t come, and I need some more bedding plants, and by the time I waited for Joel to bring them back from Chiverton it would have been time to pack up anyway. Plus I’m still knackered from the weekend, so I thought I’d call it a day.’

‘How’s the head?’ grinned Lauren. ‘You seemed pretty out of it on Saturday.’

‘Er, I was.’ Kezzie looked shifty and a bit embarrassed.

‘You didn’t make a fool of yourself, did you?’ teased Lauren. ‘Only I couldn’t help noticing that Tom has a bit of a thing going for you.’

‘No, no, nothing like that,’ Kezzie seemed determined to drop the subject.

‘Ooh, you sly dog you,’ said Lauren, in delight. ‘You did do something with Tom.’

‘I didn’t, really I didn’t,’ said Kezzie, looking even more mortified.

‘Don’t believe you,’ said Lauren, grinning. ‘You look like you’ve got a guilty conscience. Go on, who was he?’

‘Will you just leave it!’ Kezzie snapped. ‘Nothing happened.’

‘Oh,’ Lauren was staggered. Kezzie had never ever spoken to her like that before. ‘Sorry, I was just having a laugh.’

‘No, I’m sorry,’ Kezzie looked embarrassed. ‘I’m a bit
tired. All that happened on Saturday was I drank too much, smoked too much dope and had the head from hell yesterday. That was quite enough.’

Lauren, sensing it was a sensitive issue, changed the subject.

‘Well, you guys did a great job in the Memorial Gardens,’ she said. ‘It looks fantastic. Everyone’s saying so.’

‘It does, doesn’t it?’ said Kezzie. ‘Now all we need is to get the war memorial back and we’re in business.’

‘And you need to finish Joel’s garden before the Summer Fest,’ reminded Lauren.

‘That too,’ said Kezzie. She looked as though she were dying for the conversation to end. ‘Anyway, gotta go.’

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ said Lauren. ‘Only you seem a bit edgy.’

‘Never better,’ said Kezzie, but she looked guilt-stricken when she said it. ‘I really do have to go though. See you.’

Lauren puzzled over their conversation as she let herself in and sorted the kids’ tea out. It wasn’t like Kezzie to be so snappy. She only worked it out when Kezzie popped round to borrow some milk, and saw her reaction to Troy sitting in the corner. She tried to hide it, but she was clearly shocked.

‘Er, Lauren,’ she said, when Lauren walked her back to the front door, ‘you can tell me to butt out if you like, but has Troy moved back in?’

‘He might have,’ said Lauren.

‘I thought you weren’t ever going to let him back in your life?’ Kezzie sounded horrified.

Lauren shrugged, feeling embarrassed. She rather wished she hadn’t made the point
quite
so emphatically.

‘Things change,’ said Lauren.

‘Clearly,’ said Kezzie, sarcastically, and Lauren flushed with embarrassment.

‘Don’t be like that,’ she said. ‘I know I was down on Troy, but I really think we can make a go of it. Please be happy for me.’

‘I’m sorry, Lauren, I can’t be,’ said Kezzie. ‘Troy’s a louse of the highest order.’

‘You don’t know him,’ protested Lauren.

‘I know him well enough,’ said Kezzie, with surprising vehemence. ‘He’ll let you down.’

‘He won’t,’ said Lauren. ‘Troy wouldn’t do that to me again.’

‘If you say so,’ said Kezzie, but she looked unconvinced.

Lauren shut the door on Kezzie and sighed. It was going to be hard persuading people that she was doing the right thing, particularly when she’d been so clear that she wasn’t getting back together with Troy, but she had to try. Even if it meant losing some of her friends.

1918

Edward heard the bells pealing out over the village and felt a great weight fall from his shoulders. Lily would know what they meant, too. She was shopping in Heartsease with Tilly, and the pair of them would no doubt be joining the excited crowds as they celebrated the Armistice. At last after four long years, the war was over. Please God, now Harry could come back to them. Lily hadn’t been the same since he’d left. She’d been working feverishly at the hospital, and rose every day pale with dark shadows under her eyes, the anxiety about what was happening to their only son too much for her. Well, thank God, she could stop worrying now. Their last letter from Harry had only arrived a week or so ago, and he reported being well and happy, and eager to see them both soon.

Edward was drawing himself a celebratory glass of whisky when he heard the telltale tinkle of a bicycle bell. He frowned, wondering where the telegram boy could be going; there was only one other house further up the hill than they were. Edward felt a clutch of fear as he heard the tentative knock at the door. He opened it with a growing feeling of unreality, remembering the day when they’d received the telegram about George. This was a new boy of course, the other one was long gone, his bones mouldering in a Flanders field along with so many others. Here was a new lad, fresh-faced and chipper, and thankfully for him, young enough to be spared the horror of war. He held out an envelope to Edward, who took it from him without a word. He didn’t need to read the telegram to know what it said, but he forced himself to look.

Corporal Harry Handford. Killed in Action. Battle of the Sambre
.
4 November 1918

The words swam before his eyes. Harry Handford. Killed in Action. Sambre. 4 November. A week ago. Only a week ago. They hadn’t been spared after all.

He let out a great howl of anguish, and the boy looked frightened, and said, ‘Sorry sir, I wish it wasn’t so.’

‘Not your fault,’ said Edward, his eyes prickling. He patted the boy on the arm, and found a shilling in his pocket to give him. ‘No one’s fault.’

He turned the telegram over and over in his hands, trying to work out how he was going to tell Lily. Lily, who spent all her waking time fretting about what would happen to their only son. Lily, whose heart was going to be broken as surely as his was.

He sat in the lounge, watching the sun set over a wintry garden, his coffee untouched where the servant had left it.

Eventually, the door banged open and Lily burst in with Tilly.

‘Wonderful news,’ she cried, her eyes shining brighter than he’d seen in a long time. ‘They say that a peace has been signed. The war is over. Harry can come home.’

Edward stood up with a heavy heart.

‘Lily,’ he began, but couldn’t find the strength to continue. He held out the telegram instead. Lily looked at him as if not quite sure what he was showing her, and then she said, ‘Oh,’ in a quiet, faraway voice. Guiltily he felt a smidgeon of relief that she hadn’t created a scene, but then she let out a scream of anguish so piercing it tore his heart anew.

She slumped down in a chair, weeping and saying, ‘Not now. How can it be now?’, while Tilly stood looking on in mute shock.

Edward went to her and kneeled down, taking her hands in his.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I don’t know. It’s too cruel.’

‘How can we endure this?’ she whispered, her eyes brittle with tears.

‘What other choice do we have?’ said Edward, drawing
her close. ‘We aren’t the only ones who have suffered. Others have shown great bravery. Now we must too.’

Lily laid her head on his shoulder and wept.

‘But what if I can’t?’ she said.