One Golden Summer

by Clare Lydon

  “So you say.” Saffron snorted, having dealt with these types most of her life. “Or were you putting on a show to con both of us?”

  “What exactly are you accusing me of?” Kirsty jutted out a hip, placing a hand on it, drawing Saffron’s eyes to her spectacular curves.

  Ignoring her increased heartbeat and the kindness in Kirsty’s grey eyes, Saffron stayed the course, her voice losing some of its steam. “You wouldn’t be the first to go through someone close to me to get what you want, all the while pretending to be a supportive friend.”

  “Who do you think you are?” A vein in Kirsty’s neck bulged.

  “Saffron Oliver, the lesbian icon.” She waved a hand in the air. “Those are your words, not mine.”

  “What happened to Pam? Is that your real name instead of the silly stage name?” Kirsty blew a raspberry.

  Saffron’s eyes darted upwards, seeking the calming sensation she’d had by the waterfront, but her patience had dried up. After years in the Hollywood scene, Saffron was wary of anyone who seemed too good to be true. Turning her back on the beautiful woman, Saffron said, “Ginger, let me plan this party. I’ve rented a place on the water, and I’m in dire need of a distraction. Your party will be the talk of Sandy Cove—no, all of Britain. Butlers in the Buff. You’ll be carried in, Cleopatra style—”

  “Whoa, there! I love you. I do.” Ginger paused before digging in. “But I don’t want a Hollywood type party. If I do this, I want something my speed, not yours.”

  “You think I’m the Hollywood type?” Saffron flinched.

  “Not when it comes to your own life. I know for a fact you hate being noticed. Yet, when it comes to those you love, you struggle with your impulse control.”

  “I’ll keep myself in check, I promise.” Saffron bounced up and down in her seat, pressing her palms together. “I can do this.”

  “Tell you what. Why don’t the two of you work together? Because Kirsty isn’t using me to get to you. She agreed to plan this party before you entered the picture. You need to learn not everyone wants to use you.”

  “But—”

  “It’s okay. I don’t need to be part of the planning, and I would never get between sisters.” Kirsty started to step away, but Ginger yanked her back.

  “You’re going to be part of this, and you, dear sister, are going to help, not take over. I need my new friend and sister right now, more than ever.” The pleading in Ginger’s tone was genuine.

  Saffron met Kirsty’s eyes. “Okay.”

  “Fine,” Kirsty managed through gritted teeth, but from the rising and falling of her chest, she wasn’t thrilled with Saffron taking part.

  Saffron had a hard time removing her focus from Kirsty’s breasts, upset with herself for the sudden interest in what lay beneath the fabric.

  “Well, this is off to a fantabulous start.” Ginger laughed. “Hopefully, it won’t crash and burn like my marriage.” Her expression turned serious. “Can you two agree to be cordial?”

  Saffron offered her most charming smile. “Absolutely.”

  “I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but I think you’ll find most in Sandy Cove stick to their own business, myself included.” Kirsty offered an apologetic smile.

  Ginger bobbed her head in agreement, but pointed to one of the covers with Saffron posing with Echo Black. “Tell me about your Girl Racer co-star.”

  “Nothing to tell.” Saffron’s eyes darted to Kirsty, who had sunk back into her chair.

  “That’s not what the tabloids are saying.” Ginger made goo-goo eyes.

  “Who do you believe? Your own sister or people who peddle rubbish?”

  “Touchy!” Ginger looked to Kirsty. “Maybe we should start a matchmaking business, because my sister has terrible luck with women. But who am I to say anything? You two are planning my divorce party. Isn’t this a strange world we now live in?”

  Saffron met Kirsty’s eyes, this time seeing not a conniving woman, but something else that could be even more dangerous. Whatever it was, Saffron couldn’t trust it. Swearing to tread carefully to avoid getting hurt, she leaned back in her chair, feeling more secure staying silent. No matter how pretty the words or the messenger, people were all the same in the end. No one wanted Saffron for who she was, just for what she could do for them. Kirsty may not be using Ginger to get to Saffron, but the woman could still be trouble.

  Chapter 5

  Kirsty scanned the wine aisle in her local Sainsbury’s, taking note of her competition. Wine Time couldn’t hope to compete with their pricing, but what they had on the big supermarkets was a better selection as well as personal service. Their weekly wine tastings were gaining in popularity, and she hoped to add more. Kirsty put her basket of food through the self-checkout, slung her reusable bag on her shoulder, and headed back out into the sunshine.

  After being in the air-conditioned supermarket, the outside warmth smothered her. The summer was shaping up to be a good one, which was fabulous news for Sandy Cove’s tourism. Kirsty had already started to see the boost in their sales from the Down-From-London weekend crowds. She passed The Croissant bakery, its window decorated with Union Jack bunting and pastries in the shape of fishing boats and oysters. The windows of Threadless, the town’s haberdashery, were adorned with knitted waves, along with shipwrecked sewing machines. Meanwhile, the post office had gone to town with the fishy theme, complete with sand, shells, fake oysters, and rocks. Kirsty was late getting to Wine Time’s festival display, and the competition was already heating up.

  She walked past Nick’s News, pleased to see they hadn’t decorated yet either. She wasn’t the only slacker in town. However, their window did have a selection of magazines. On two of the front covers, Saffron Oliver’s face stared back at her—or rather, her Girl Racer alter ego did. She was dressed in miles of tight black leather, her hair impossibly golden, her eyes arrestingly blue. Now she knew why she’d recognised Ginger’s gaze: it was a carbon copy of Saffron’s.

  Kirsty had seen the Girl Racer films like every other lesbian with a pulse, and Saffron’s stare had stayed with her. Kirsty even had a dream where Saffron pulled up on her bike and told her to hop on. Just thinking of her dream, where Kirsty had straddled her bike and locked her arms around Saffron’s waist, sent heat to Kirsty’s cheeks and a rush between her legs. She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing.

  She’d made such an idiot of herself yesterday. Why hadn’t Ginger told her who her sister was? Of course Kirsty had a thing for her: she didn’t know one lesbian who didn’t. However, they all might think twice if they met her. Saffron had proved herself to be self-centred and obnoxious. What was it they said? Never meet your heroes. Saffron Oliver had demonstrated the cliché was totally correct.

  Kirsty shook her head and turned to carry on walking back to her flat. However, when she looked up, Saffron was walking towards her.

  Shit.

  Her mind scrambled to fully obliterate her recent thoughts, but it wasn’t easy.

  Did she have time to look down or cross the road before they made eye contact?

  Too late. Saffron gave her a brief wave.

  Kirsty gave her a reluctant smile.

  Saffron’s blond hair had that effortless style about it as it danced on her shoulders. Did movie stars use different hair products as opposed to mere mortals? Kirsty could ask her. But she’d probably get a snappy response. She wished she’d never mentioned the divorce party to Ginger now. How could the sisters be so different?

  Remember, she was an idiot to you yesterday. She is far from the image she portrays.

  Saffron came to a stop in front of her, giving Kirsty a half-smile. “Just the person I was hoping to bump into.”

  Those were not the words Kirsty had expected to hear. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Saffron had crossed the road to avoid her. Yes, they’d told Ginger they’d work together, but Kirsty was fully expecting Saffron to sack her any minute. It might be for the best.

  “I want
ed to apologise for yesterday. We got off on the wrong foot, and that’s my fault.”

  Kirsty glimpsed her reflection in Saffron’s aviator sunglasses just before Saffron took them off. She tried really hard not to be flummoxed by looking the object of her sex dreams in the face, but it was pretty distracting. If anything, Saffron was more gorgeous in real life than on-screen.

  It didn’t change the fact she’d been an arsehole, though.

  “I’m sorry I accused you of using me for your business. I don’t trust many people because every time I do, they betray me. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the paparazzi didn’t turn up soon as I’m sure somebody’s already told them I’m here.”

  Saffron’s baby blues were so mesmerising, they were verging on criminal. “Maybe that’s true in your world, but this is Sandy Cove. We look after our own here, and Ginger counts as that now. You’re her sister, so you do, too. I won’t tell a soul you’re here, okay?”

  As if to demonstrate the small-town feel, Shelley from ‘Seaside Surprise!’ gift shop walked by. She gave Saffron a smile, then tapped Kirsty on the arm. “We had that bottle of red last night with dinner. It was delicious and went so well with the steak.” She didn’t wait for a reply, just carried on walking.

  Saffron stared after her. “I guess this isn’t what I’m used to. But I’m hoping to relax into my stay here. It would be good not to have enemies so soon. What do you say? Can we start again?”

  Kirsty pursed her lips. “You’re going to play nicely and not throw your rattle out of your pram?” She couldn’t quite believe she was saying that to Saffron Oliver, but she was.

  “I promise. And if I do, you can tell me to stop being a tit. Okay?”

  That made Kirsty laugh. Maybe there was hope yet for the movie star. “You’re on. I look forward to calling you a tit in the not too distant future.” She shifted her shopping bag up her shoulder.

  Saffron held out a hand. “Can I carry that for you?”

  She was chivalrous, too. Nobody had been chivalrous to Kirsty in quite a while. “I don’t have far to go, but thanks for offering.” Were her cheeks as hot as the sun, now? “Which way were you walking?”

  Saffron shrugged. “I don’t have plans, so I’ll walk wherever you’re going. That’s what friends do, right?”

  Kirsty nodded towards her flat, and Saffron fell into step beside her.

  “What do you think of the divorce party idea? Now you know it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Ginger.”

  Saffron put her shades back on and glanced Kirsty’s way. “Any excuse for a party is a good one. And I do understand the reason behind it. Like I said, my experience with people lately has been a challenge.”

  “Hence you’re hiding out here?”

  Saffron nodded. “Something like that.”

  “Maybe you’re mixing with the wrong people.”

  “You might be right.”

  They crossed the High Street together, Saffron tripping on the kerb and nearly face-planting on the pavement. It took everything Kirsty had not to laugh, but she kept it in.

  “I look forward to your ideas anyway, and I promise to keep you up-to-date when you head home. Is home in London?”

  Saffron nodded. “It is. But I’ve rented my place here till beyond the Oyster Festival. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

  “You can do that? I read somewhere you were due to start filming for the next Girl Racer movie soon.” Kirsty’s cheeks flared at her own words. She didn’t want to sound like she was keeping track of Saffron’s life, but she’d looked at the Girl Racer Instagram account this morning. Just to get an update on her new sort-of client.

  Maybe she should stop doing that now Saffron Oliver was her new sort-of friend.

  Yep, even thinking that was still totally weird.

  “I’ve got the script, but they can’t start filming without me. I haven’t signed on the dotted line yet either. Don’t believe everything you read in the press.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.”

  A young woman with a toddler and pram walked towards them. She was the daughter of one of Kirsty’s mum’s friends. Tilly? Tracey? Kirsty couldn’t quite remember. The woman greeted her as she walked by.

  “You know, there are a few things that are different here from London.” They resumed their walk, Wine Time coming into view. “First, not everyone knows who I am, which is so refreshing. Second, you all walk so slowly.”

  Kirsty shook her head. “What’s the rush? It’s called strolling, you should try it sometime. It’s meditative. You’re not in London anymore.”

  “I’m well aware. Another thing is you seem to know everyone.”

  “That’s what happens when you live somewhere your whole life. There are upsides and downsides.” Kirsty couldn’t sneeze in Sandy Cove without it getting back to her parents.

  “But you know people. I don’t even know my neighbours.”

  Kirsty snorted. “I married mine.”

  “That’s taking it a step too far.”

  “It clearly was, as she left me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be. I’m over it.” As much as she’d ever be. “Her loss, as everyone here keeps telling me.” Telling her parents had been the worst, because she’d felt like she was letting them down. Although, telling a movie star you were crap at love was currently running a pretty close second. Particularly one who was rumoured to be involved with her gorgeous co-star, Echo Black. Therefore, she was very much a love ambassador to boot.

  They drew up outside Wine Time. “This is me. My empire. Well, mine and my business partner’s.” Kirsty dropped her shopping at her feet. Her shoulder would have a red mark.

  Saffron glanced up at her sign.

  “I really need to get the name touched up.” Seeing it through fresh eyes made Kirsty painfully aware of that. “It’s on my to-do list.”

  However, Kirsty didn’t have time to dwell as the shop door opened and Helena came out, eyes wide, phone in hand. Oh gawd, she was going to be embarrassing, wasn’t she? She gave Kirsty a look, then stuck out a hand to Saffron.

  “Hi, a real pleasure to meet you. Saffron Oliver,” Helena said, just in case Saffron needed to be reminded of her name. “I just want you to know, I’m a huge fan. Love the whole Girl Racer thing. Girl power and all of that.” Helena let go of Saffron’s hand and punched the air.

  Kirsty winced. “This is my very enthusiastic business partner, Helena.”

  Saffron removed her sunglasses again, before turning the full force of her megawatt smile on Helena. “Lovely to meet you, too.” She punched the air with slightly less ferocity. “Doing my bit for girl power.”

  Helena fumbled with her phone, stabbing it nervously. “Do you mind if I take a photo for our wall of fame? We don’t get Hollywood superstars in Sandy Cove very often.”

  Kirsty stepped in, putting a hand on Helena’s arm. “We don’t have a wall of fame.”

  “We could start one.” Helena’s tone was indignant.

  “No photos.” Kirsty gave her a look. “Saffron’s here on a break, and we should respect that.”

  Helena threw her a scowl.

  Saffron rubbed her hands together. “How about this? No photo for your non-existent wall of fame, but I will definitely come in and buy some wine. I only have a bottle of gin in my house, and it would love some company.”

  Helena clapped her hands. “We’ve got some fantastic selections for all budgets. Yours will be slightly higher than most I expect.”

  Kirsty rolled her eyes. She’d have to tell Helena to rein it in.

  Saffron let out a whistle when she walked into the shop. “This is a gorgeous place.” She ran a hand over the tasting table, before walking along the shelves, reading some of the tasting notes handwritten by Kirsty, hanging on strings around the necks of the wines. “I love the personal touch. ‘Overtones of peach’. Yum.” Saffron looked up. “Peaches are my favourite.”

  Saffron�
��s gaze settled on Kirsty.

  Kirsty went to speak, but no words came out. She cleared her throat, as heat flushed her cheeks.

  Tongue-tied in front of a movie star?

  Get a grip.

  “It’s from a lovely producer in the South of France. It’s got a slight pettiance and excellent body.” Kirsty had gone into wine-pro mode. That was good.

  Saffron took a bottle from the shelf. “I’ll have to try it now.” She paused, never taking her eyes from Kirsty.

  Something fluttered in Kirsty’s chest. She ignored it.

  Repeat after me.

  I will not get a crush on a movie star.

  “Even better, how about you pick a box of wine for me? You’re clearly the expert. I like full-bodied reds and interesting whites. Fizz, too. Surprise me.”

  “I can do that,” Kirsty said. “Do you have a budget?”

  “I trust you not to fleece me.”

  “That from the woman who trusts nobody. Quite an accolade.” Kirsty pulled her shoulders back. She was almost back on solid ground. Her body no longer betraying her. Back to being a grown-up doing her professional job. “We offer delivery, so I can drop it round tomorrow. Did you say you were staying at the Beachcomber house?”

  “I love that one! Always wanted to have a look inside,” Helena said, phone back in hand.

  Saffron turned.

  Helena raised her phone.

  “Put it down!” Kirsty mouthed.

  Helena did as she was told, busying herself behind the counter.

  “Yep, the Beachcomber. Are you sure? I can pick it up.”

  Kirsty shook her head. “I have a few other deliveries to do, so I’ll add you to the list.” She pulled out her phone. “Give me your number and I’ll message first to check you’re in.”

  Saffron walked over, took Kirsty’s phone, and keyed in her digits.

  She smelled insanely good. Movie star-good. And now, Kirsty had Saffron Oliver’s number. She was going to try not to fixate on that.