When Summer Fades (7 page)

‘Neither,’ replied the bewildered trainee, motioning down the corridor to a cubicle. ‘It’s been reasonably quiet so far. The pubs haven’t turned out yet. But we do have a lad with minor burns. Seems he’s been messing about with fireworks.’

‘Fireworks!’ Sophie said tartly. She’d had more than enough of those at Victoria Villas!

*

Returning home, bleary eyed and exhausted, Sophie was startled to find Carlos standing in the hallway. Presuming him to be newly arrived from his hotel, it didn’t take her long to deduce he was on the phone to Celia. As if a traumatic night in A&E wasn’t bad enough.

‘Yes, Miss Sheffield. I understand,’ Carlos said, glancing up as she passed by to the kitchen. ‘But the situation is far from satisfactory. As for Miss Fuller—’

Not waiting to hear – she’d already heard enough – Sophie filled the kettle and reached for the tea caddy. Rubbing her tired eyes while waiting for the comforting click of the kettle, she could only think of two things. The first was her desperate need for a decent cup of tea and the second was sleep, hours and hours of it.

Sometime later sitting at the kitchen table, her head resting in her hands and her eyelids beginning to close, she discerned a faint waft of aftershave. A far-off warning bell dragged her from her soporific state. If it was aftershave – and a very nice one it was too – it could only mean she was not alone. She stirred sleepily. What was Gavin doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be in Sussex?

‘Miss Fuller?’ a low voice began. ‘I think your tea is getting cold.’

With a start Sophie sat up. She’d been dreaming of Gavin and aftershave. At least she thought she had. But it wasn’t Gavin who was looking at her with concerned navy-blue eyes. Nor was it Gavin who smelt of a wonderful blend of citrus and musk. It was Carlos Martins!

‘You must be very tired. Why don’t you get some sleep? Rosa is almost finished in the bathroom and I’ve arranged with Miss Sheffield to take Rosa to—‘

‘Another family placement?’ Sophie broke in sourly, not wanting to give Carlos the pleasure of adding insult to injury by saying he was taking his cousin away from all this squalor and deprivation.

‘No. I’m taking Rosa to London for the day. We shall be back this evening.’

‘Back? Oh, you mean to collect Rosa’s things? I shan’t be here of course. I’m on duty again … please ask Rosa to leave her key with Lottie and Pearl.’

‘Why should I leave my key with Lottie and Pearl?’ Rosa queried, coming in to the kitchen.

Sophie dragged her weary body from the table, ‘Because, Rosa, your cousin has asked Celia to find you somewhere else to stay. He considers Victoria Villas far from satisfactory.’

‘Carlos! Is this true? When did you ring Celia?’ Rosa rounded on her cousin, fixing him with dark, angry eyes.

‘Not exactly. I rang Miss Sheffield while you were having a shower.’

‘But you know I will stay only with Sophie!’ Rosa’s tone was defiant. ‘I told you last night – when we were making the bed.’

Making the bed? Even though she was dripping with tiredness, Sophie’s eyes widened in surprise. She’d assumed, following her ill-humoured departure last night, Carlos would have booked himself into the nearest available hotel. He’d certainly given the appearance of someone who wasn’t anxious to hang around.

In the hallway, Sophie gazed surreptitiously towards the larger of the two bedrooms. Rosa’s
Forever
Friends
nightie was draped across the pillows, which meant she must have slept in the double bed after all, but what of Carlos? Where had he slept? Certainly not on the sofa; it wasn’t big enough. Had he therefore slept in the Z-bed?

Following Sophie’s gaze and reading her mind, Carlos enquired with a wry smile.

‘What do you think of my hospital corners Miss Fuller?’

‘Hospital corners?’

‘Isn’t that what you nurses call them? I remember when I was last in England—’

‘Oh, you mean the sheets? Yes, they’re perfect.’

‘Such a pity then that they have to be disturbed.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t follow you.’ Sophie was beginning to feel like an idiot. What on earth was Carlos getting at? If he was trying to be clever, then he’d picked the wrong person. She was far too tired to participate in any of his fancy mind games.

‘Of course the bed! I’m sorry, Carlos. I forgot. I’ll do it now,’ Rosa called, running through to the tiny bedroom, where she stripped the Z-bed of all its linen and replaced it with a clean set.

Sophie stared in disbelief. What on earth was happening? Rosa turned to her with a beaming smile.

‘Not to worry about the sheets, Sophie. Carlos says we can take them to laundry.’

‘You’re surely not walking to the laundrette before you go to London?’ Sophie enquired, saying the first thing to come into her head.

Carlos reached out for a soft leather jacket. ‘No. Before I rang Miss Sheffield I ordered a self-drive car. It should be arriving any minute. Miss Fuller, you can have your flat to all to yourself and Rosa and I will wish you pleasant dreams.’

Pleasant Dreams? From the way she felt at the moment Sophie was convinced she’d have only nightmares. One minute she thought Rosa was leaving – whisked away by Carlos to more suitable accommodation, and the next she’d witnessed a certain frosty exchange when Rosa had announced her intention to stay.

Despite welcoming clean linen, Sophie crawled wearily into bed, convinced she could still smell Carlos’s aftershave. For some reason it unsettled her. She fell asleep thinking about eyes the colour of indigo and Carlos’s parting words before he’d ushered Rosa from the flat. Was he simply being sarcastic or had he been genuinely concerned?

*

Eight hours later and considerably refreshed, Sophie found herself humming a familiar song as she ran her bath.

‘What’s with the songs?’ Callie asked, heaving a suitcase of summer clothes into the hall. You’ve been humming it ever since I arrived. You know what they say about constantly humming or singing the same tunes.’

‘No. But I’ve a feeling you’re about to tell me.’

‘It’s supposed to be unlucky. Can I suggest you think of something else.’

‘Unlucky!’ Sophie protested. ‘You surely don’t expect me to believe this fiasco with Rosa and her cousin can get any worse, simply by me humming
Song
Sung
Blue
and
Mood
Indigo
?'

   ‘
Song
Sung
Blue
, I recognize but
Mood
Indigo
? Don’t think I've heard that one before.’

‘Probably not. It was one of Mum and Dad’s favourites.’

‘Anyway what is an indigo mood when it’s at home?’ Callie queried, pausing for breath, swinging Sophie’s suitcase nearer to the door.

Sophie stopped packing books and assorted odds and ends into another suitcase and pushed back her fringe. ‘I don’t know really. To be honest I’ve never really thought about it much. Indigo is a deep violety-blue sort of colour. I suppose it could mean a blue mood back to front,’ she grinned.

‘And we’ll be back to front if we’re not careful! By the sound of that exhaust, I’d say that’s Colleen and Sean with the van. You’re sure it’s all right to take this stuff?’

Sophie fixed Callie with a vacant stare.

‘By that, Staff Nurse Fuller, I mean you’re not planning any exotic trips to the Caribbean in the immediate future? You won’t be requiring your summer wardrobe?’

‘Hardly,’ came the wistful reply. ‘I leave that to the likes of Carlos and Rosa.’

Waving Callie and the van goodbye Sophie turned back to the flat, still humming the same familiar song. ‘Oh stop it!’ she scolded, reminded of Callie’s dire warning when the tune escaped once more from her lips. ‘Go and find something else to play!’

Kneeling in front of her parents’ extremely varied and extensive record collection, Sophie selected blindly. She only hoped it had nothing to do with jazz. Cautiously prising the LP record from the shelf, she gave a well-what-else-did-you-expect sort of sigh. In her hand was the soundtrack of the film
The
Jazz
Singer
. She frowned, would you class Neil Diamond as jazz?

  With blue moods, musical and otherwise banished from her mind, Sophie scanned the list of song titles on the record sleeve. Some she recognised, others she didn’t. With only a vague recollection of the film she opted to play the second side first.

I know
Hello
Again
and
Acapulco
, she thought, her spirits lifting as a result of new-found space in the tiny bedroom. And with her meagre collection of summer clothes winging their way to The Nag’s Head, she could at least sing about sunnier climes, even though she couldn’t afford to visit them.

She was still humming
Acapulco
later that evening when the front door opened and in walked Carlos and Rosa. Rosa was carrying a vast array of Harrods bags, which she waved excitedly in the air.

‘Sophie! Just see what Carlos has bought me. I’ll try everything on right away.’

‘But Rosa … there isn’t time. I have to—’

‘Of course there is! Carlos didn’t book the table for dinner until nine o’clock,’ Rosa called, amidst much rustling of carrier bags and tissue paper.

Sophie looked up helpless. Carlos was eyeing her uniform.

‘There really isn’t time. I promised I would get in early. I was late reporting for duty last night.’ The words slipped out before she could stop them. Carlos, astute as ever, caught them and considered the implications.

‘Then do I assume you were late because of me? In which case, I can only apologize Miss Fuller. I must also apologize for Rosa’s insensitivity. In many ways she is still a child. I hope you can forgive her. She speaks very highly of you, you know. Perhaps, in time, she will learn a great deal from you.’

Sophie was dumbstruck. What did Carlos mean? There was no chance to find out however. Rosa came dashing into the hallway wearing a velvet mini-skirt, cashmere sweater and beige, knee length boots of the finest leather.

‘Now I am ready for the English winter,’ she cried, her face glowing.

‘Yes. It’s all very nice Rosa,’ Carlos complimented, knowing only too well that his cousin would need more than that for an English winter. ‘But we must not forget Miss Fuller has to work.’

‘Oh, do you really have to Sophie? I thought you could have dinner with us at Carlos’s hotel. He is staying—’

Anxious to leave Sophie kissed the young woman on the cheek. ‘Rosa, I’m sorry. I really must go. Some other time, perhaps?’

Disappointment on Rosa’s face soon gave way to sheer delight. ‘Why, yes of course! You can join us tomorrow night instead.’

‘Tomorrow? I thought your cousin was returning to Lisbon tomorrow.’

‘I was,’ Carlos replied, softly. ‘I have now decided to spend Monday in our London office. If you would care to join Rosa and myself for dinner, Miss Fuller, there is something I should like to discuss with you.’

That sounds ominous Sophie thought, watching Rosa hurry back into the bedroom where she tumbled a navy blue cashmere coat onto the bed. Reaching for her own familiar and rather tired looking, navy-blue raincoat, she headed for the door.

‘We’ll pick you up at eight o’clock,’ a firm, yet dignified voice called after her.

*

During late Sunday-afternoon lunch at The Nag’s Head, Sophie pleaded with Callie. ‘Look, all I’m asking you to do is help me think of an excuse why I can’t go.’

‘Why should I be doing that?’ Callie grinned mischievously, her lilting, Irish brogue, silenced by a huge roast potato.’

‘Callie!’ her mother scolded. ‘Will you not eat so quickly!'

‘Sorry! Occupational hazard I’m afraid. Always having to eat in a rush.’

‘Pray tell me then, why does Sophie – who shares the same occupation as yourself – eat like a sparrow?’

‘‘Cos she doesn’t want to spoil her appetite for tonight. Isn’t that right Sophie?’

Sophie winced. She had no desire to be reminded of this evening’s proposed dinner engagement. ‘I’m sure they don’t really want me there. They’re simply being polite. It’s Carlos’s last night – he’s flying back to Portugal tomorrow evening.’

‘Who’s Carlos?’ Declan Callaghan enquired, helping himself to more vegetables.

‘Rosa’s sugar daddy,’ Callie broke in.

‘I beg your pardon! You don’t mean that young girl staying with Sophie—’

‘No, she doesn’t,’ Sophie protested. ‘Carlos is
not
Rosa’s sugar daddy.’

‘You said he was old!’

‘Correction, Callie. I’d been led to believe he was old. OK, so he is quite a bit older than Rosa, but he’s certainly not the Old Father Time I was expecting.’

‘You never told me this yesterday, when I came to collect your summer clothes.’

‘You never asked me. Besides, I was busy packing.’

‘And singing
Indigo
Moods
. By the way I hope you’ve changed your tune.’