One Golden Summer

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One Golden Summer Page 8

by Clare Lydon


  Kirsty nodded. “We’ll have to go out one day.”

  Ginger shook her head. “I’m strictly a look-at-the-sea girl. I’ll leave that to you two.” She stared out to sea. “It’s so relaxing here, though. I can feel my tension seeping out of me. Like summers when we were kids in Cornwall, isn’t it?”

  Saffron gave her a slow nod. “Exactly that. We just need ice cream, buckets and spades, and we can recreate it properly.”

  “Nathan’s Ice Cream Hut is just down there.” Kirsty leaned over the porch and pointed along the promenade.

  Saffron put her elbows on the wooden railing and leaned next to her. “Is that right?”

  Saffron’s lips were close to Kirsty’s as she turned her face. She nodded. “Just there,” Kirsty replied, her eyes dropping to Saffron’s lips, then pulling away.

  Too dangerous.

  Kirsty might be ready for another shot at love, but not with someone who was skipping town in a few weeks. Saffron had just more or less said so to her mum. She was not a viable option for so many reasons.

  Saffron stood back up. “Who wants a 99? On me?”

  Four hands went up.

  “Yes please!” Mum said, turning to Dad. “A delicious vanilla ice-cream cone with a chocolate flake in the top will make up for the iced bun disappointment.”

  Dad gave her a butter wouldn’t melt grin.

  Mum leaned in to Ginger and Saffron. “Nathan, who runs the ice cream hut, was Kirsty’s first boyfriend when she was seven.”

  “Mum!” Kirsty needed to keep a leash on her mum’s tongue sometimes.

  Saffron turned as she jumped down to the promenade. “I’ll look forward to checking out your taste in men.” She gave Kirsty a wink.

  Saffron was back in minutes holding five 99s, ice cream running down past both wrists.

  “Take them!” Saffron held out her hands, before licking all her fingers one by one.

  Kirsty gulped. She stared at the wooden slats beneath her feet and clenched her toes in her flip-flops.

  Focus on your ice cream.

  Nothing else.

  “You know what? You two should come to our BBQ tomorrow.” Mum took a bite of her chocolate flake. “Ian’s cooking the best lamb chops in town, and we’ve never hosted a real live movie star before. Are you free?”

  Ginger swirled her tongue through her ice cream, before nodding. “I’m free most nights seeing as I know nobody except the people right here, so that would be wonderful.”

  Saffron nodded too, her gaze falling on Kirsty. “Count me in. So long as you promise to show us some baby photos of your daughter.”

  Her mum needed no more invitation. “I’m sure I could rustle some up.”

  Chapter 10

  “This is one of my favourites!” Ruth held the yellowed photo delicately by the corner. “She always had her left eye closed when in direct sunlight. Those greys of hers are super sensitive.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Saffron, sitting at a wooden table with Ruth, leaned closer. “How adorable is she in that pink pinafore dress? Was this taken over Easter? It had to be.”

  Ruth nodded. “She was about three years old, so she didn’t put up much of a fuss about wearing dresses. As you can see in this photo the following year, that changed drastically.” She handed Saffron a photo of Kirsty in a red hoodie, with the hood up, and yellow checked trousers, holding a doll by her hair, the plastic toy carelessly touching the ground. “I’m glad she’s outgrown her Rupert Bear stage.”

  “Her what?” Saffron scratched her cheek.

  “The outfit,” Ruth said, distracted by the shriek of one of the guests on the other side of the garden.

  “Come now. You must remember the comic strip.” Kirsty set her glass down on the table.

  Saffron shook her head.

  “The bear who wears a red jumper and bright yellow checked trousers.” Kirsty narrowed her eyes. “I think it’s still going.”

  “I didn’t have a typical childhood.” Saffron twisted her long hair to the side to get it off her neck, the sun seeming to sear her back.

  Ruth stopped trying to figure out the reason for the fuss on the other side of the garden and returned her attention, pointing at the photo. “Sadly, it was the last year for dolls.”

  Kirsty gave Saffron an I’m sorry smile, probably for the childhood comment, and then said to Ruth, “Oh please, Mum. Dolls are lame, even back then when we weren’t spoiled for choice like kids are today.”

  “She really liked Swingball. She took great pleasure in whacking that ball for hours.” Ian wore a maroon apron with 100% British Beef printed on it, and a rainbow badge on the left strap.

  Saffron nearly choked on her wine.

  Ruth ignored her husband, too busy rifling through more photos. “Here’s me holding Kirsty when she was only a few weeks old.”

  Saffron seized the photo. “Oh, look how tiny you are.” She showed Kirsty.

  “You’re wearing checked trousers!” Kirsty waggled a finger at her mum.

  “Don’t blame me for the fashion in 1971.”

  “Mum!” Kirsty’s face morphed into a livid grape colour.

  Ruth laughed. “If you’re just going to yell, leave us be. Or better yet, open another bottle of red to match your face.”

  Kirsty shook her head but followed Ruth’s orders.

  “She’s always been a touch shy.” Ruth sorted more photos from the shoebox.

  Saffron gazed at Kirsty, talking to Ginger, as she uncorked a bottle. How did the woman make that task sexy as hell? Only if Kirsty turned a little more to the right, Saffron would be able to really check out her bicep.

  “How’d you come up with the name Saffron?” Ruth’s expression was completely judgment free.

  “All the credit goes to my parents.” Saffron narrowed her eyes.

  “It’s not a stage name?” Ruth didn’t seem to believe that, like the majority of the human population.

  “I wish, but no, my parents saddled me with the name and my agent loved it, so I was born Saffron Oliver and I’ll have to live my entire life as a seasoning.” To make matters worse, Saffron didn’t even like the spice since to her it only added colour, not flavour.

  “If you ask me, you lucked out in the name department. Saffron is the most expensive spice on the market, which is fitting for a movie star. Maybe they saw into the future.” Ruth’s smile gave the parents in question the benefit of the doubt, something Saffron never did, not even after all these years.

  Saffron shifted in her seat, and a football bumped the back of her leg. She swivelled around to spy a dark-haired girl, no older than six, doing her best not to look like the guilty party. “You like football?”

  The girl nodded.

  Saffron looked to the left and right but didn’t see any other suspects. “Who are you playing with?”

  The girl proudly pointed at her chest.

  Saffron hopped up. “Can I kick the ball with you?”

  The girl nodded enthusiastically, and Saffron passed the ball to her, impressed by the speed it whipped back in return. The two of them drifted to the side, Saffron laughing. The girl attempted to hog the ball, dribbling circles around Saffron. She responded by placing a hand on the child’s head, keeping her at arm’s length, while the girl attempted to get a boot on the ball.

  “You’re cheating.” The girl took another swipe.

  “I have to. You’re just too good.” Saffron continued to stiff-arm the child. “Are you related to Megan Rapinoe?”

  The girl broke free, swiping the ball and taking it with her across the lawn where two children her age, who’d just arrived at the party, stood. Soon enough, they fell into a game.

  “Looks like you’ve been cruelly cut from the team.” Kirsty handed Saffron a glass of wine.

  “So it seems. I didn’t know the local footballers were so ruthless. Thanks.” Saffron took a sip. “Sandy Cove is making me soft. I’m a bit out of breath.”

  “We can’t have that. Take a seat.” Kirsty waved
to a couple of seats to the side of her parents’ garden.

  Saffron crossed her legs, resting the glass on the arm of the chair. “You’re lucky.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This.” She waved to the guests. “Everyone here seems happy and genuine. I haven’t felt this at ease in a group in I don’t know how long.”

  “Is that the experience of all actors? Or…?”

  “I think most of us have our guards up, especially after getting burned the first time.”

  “What happened?” Kirsty wore a sympathetic expression, with curiosity brimming underneath.

  Saffron stared into the red liquid, rolling the glass between her palms, stirring the contents. “I trusted the wrong person.”

  “And?”

  “She let me down. She says it was a mistake, but…” Saffron gave the glass one final swirl before knocking back a sip.

  “You don’t believe her.”

  “It’s hard to know the truth. I’d like to, but I promised myself never to put myself in that position again.”

  “It sounds lonely.”

  Saffron stared at Kirsty’s parents, Ian with his arm around Ruth’s waist as he turned the meat on the grill. Ruth rested her head on his chest, turning and smiling at Helena for a photo. “It’s part of my life.”

  “Does it have to be, though?”

  Saffron didn’t answer, because although she couldn’t see a way around her isolation, she didn’t want to say it to Kirsty of all people. “What about you?”

  “What about me?” Kirsty flinched as if not expecting to be put into the hot seat. Or did she think Saffron wasn’t the type to get to know someone else? Kirsty wasn’t wrong, for the most part.

  “Has anyone let you down?”

  “My ex did.”

  “Right. That’s probably why you got divorced. Sorry. Stupid question.” Saffron shook her head as if trying to rid herself of disappointment.

  “There are no such things as stupid questions.”

  “Isn’t that just something teachers say?”

  “Probably, but it sounds nice. So, ask away.” Kirsty gestured she was an open book.

  “If I remember correctly, she was a neighbour of yours.”

  “Yes. Sandy Cove is a charming place, but it’s also small. She’s still only five miles away, and it’s not unusual for us to bump into each other.”

  “I’d hate to run into mine.” Unless I ran her over with my motorbike.

  “Won’t you be working with her again?”

  Saffron snapped her head up to look at Kirsty. “Who told you that?”

  “I’m sorry. I assumed we were talking about Echo Black. I saw an article talking about the pair of you.”

  Saffron bristled, but forced out laughter, which more than likely was stilted, if not intimidating. “Oh, no. What I had with Echo doesn’t warrant a blip on the relationship chart.” For some inexplicable reason, Saffron added, “A lot of what you read in the press about me and Echo is just for show to rev box office sales.” Okay, part of that was true, which didn’t appease Saffron’s guilt for misleading Kirsty about Echo.

  “Is it hard to keep track of what’s true or not?”

  “It’s all part of showbiz.” Saffron shrugged, not wanting to waste any more effort on the backstabbing Echo Black. “What’s it like having normal parents?”

  Kirsty started to speak, stopped, and then stared at her parents. “I never realised how lucky I was until recently. It’s funny how you can take the simplest things for granted, but when it’s pointed out to you, it’s like seeing it in a whole new light.”

  “Come on you two! It’s time to eat.” Ginger held her plate in the air as if they needed a visual of the sizzling lamb chops to tempt them.

  Kirsty put a hand on Saffron’s thigh. “To be continued.”

  “I’ve never been a fan of cliff hangers.”

  Kirsty gazed into Saffron’s eyes as if she not only understood that to be true, but she also knew how the thought of the unknown rattled Saffron to the core.

  Plates and cutlery rattled as Kirsty and Ruth started to clean up after the meal.

  “Can I help?” Saffron rose to her feet, not waiting for an answer, loading her arms up with dishes to take inside.

  Kirsty followed her inside, her arms also laden with plates. “Thanks for this.”

  “Always willing to help.” Saffron stood in the kitchen, unsure where to set anything down given every surface was already overloaded. “There’s not much room for anything.”

  Kirsty stacked her plates on top of one pile and then relieved Saffron of hers. “Not much more can be done until after the first load of dishes has finished.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind washing up to help your lovely parents get a head start.”

  “Don’t be silly. They’d never expect that of anyone, let alone a Hollywood star.”

  Deflated Kirsty still thought of her as movie star and not as just a person, Saffron nodded. “Right. Well, it’s getting late, and I better head back to mine.”

  “Do you know where you’re going?”

  “I just need to follow the water to—”

  “The biggest house.”

  “Even I can’t mess that up.” Saffron laughed, staring at her Converses finding them suddenly fascinating.

  “It’s hard to believe you can mess up anything.”

  “Trust me, I can.” Saffron slowly lifted her gaze, and awkwardly offered a hand for Kirsty to shake. “Good night.”

  Kirsty accepted the gesture, her skin soft and warm, while she placed her other hand on Saffron’s elbow. “Stay safe.”

  “I doubt I can get into much trouble on the way back.” Saffron’s mind was going into hyperdrive coming up with compromising situations to get into with Kirsty, the most appealing one involved shoving her against the wall and finally feeling what it would be like to kiss those tempting, luscious, dark-red lips. “Good night,” she said again, failing to come up with any other words to express her true thoughts.

  Outside, Saffron glanced back at the family home, wondering how everything would have been different if she’d had loving parents like Ruth and Ian. Would her love life not be such a wreck? Her one true contribution to any relationship worth pursuing was her ability to torpedo it because that was all she knew how to do.

  A breeze kicked up, propelling Saffron along the path.

  Several minutes in, she lingered at a pub facing the sea, the patrons long gone, making the tables and benches seem abandoned. The sound of the waves stilled Saffron to soak it all in. She’d craved moments just like this, when enduring endless fourteen-hour work days on the Girl Racer set. To have peace and quiet, allowing her the chance to think or not.

  “Saffron!”

  She turned to Kirsty, running towards the pub.

  “You forgot your bag.”

  Even though Kirsty held it in her hand, Saffron reached for the absent strap on her shoulder. “Oh, thank you. I don’t know where my mind is these days.” She stopped herself from adding, “Since meeting you.”

  The security light of the pub bounced in Kirsty’s grey eyes.

  “What were you thinking about?” Kirsty asked.

  “How this place allows me not to think?” Saffron chuckled over her honest answer. “That probably doesn’t make sense.”

  “It does, but the way you were standing, I thought you might be—” Kirsty waved a hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter. Just ignore me.”

  “I could never do that. Go on. What did I look like?” Saffron really wanted to know every thought Kirsty had about anything and everything.

  “It’s just… er… I wondered if you were thinking of your parents.”

  Had Kirsty been mulling over Saffron’s comment about her childhood? Saffron was used to her social circles, who would have ignored the comment because that was part of her girl squad code. No questions or giving an offhand comment a moment’s thought.

  “Not right before you called
me, no. When I left, though, I had been thinking how nice it would have been to have parents like yours.”

  “What were they like? Yours?” She wrapped her arms around herself, and Saffron wanted to experience being held by Kirsty.

  “Not the most responsible, but what can you expect from two adults who named their daughters Ginger and Saffron?” She tried laughing it off, adding a what can you do shrug.

  “I know they aren’t in the picture anymore, but what happened to them?”

  Saffron took a seat at one of the wooden tables. “They died in a car crash years ago. They had a big night out. That was their thing. For most of my childhood, I remember them leaving Ginger and me alone every Friday night… and…” Saffron turned her face towards the water. “It’s been just Ginger and me for so long now. It’s why I want to do everything I can for the party. She was my sister and parents all rolled into one, and I want to let her know how much she means to me.”

  Kirsty sat next to Saffron. “You two are lucky to have each other.”

  “We are.” Saffron pulled her knees up onto the bench, holding herself, resting her chin on one leg. “This looks like a nice pub.”

  “It’s the Poseidon Inn.” Kirsty grew serious. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

  Saffron glanced up. Her eyes became misty, and she started to look away but forced herself not to tear her gaze from those supportive greys. “It was a long time ago.”

  “It probably doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “Yes and no.” Saffron’s bottom lip trembled, and she wanted to disappear into Kirsty’s embrace.

  They stared at each other, the only sound coming from the sea, and moonlight glittered on the water’s surface.

  Kirsty shivered.

  “You’re cold. We should both head home.”

  “Probably so.” Kirsty sucked in a breath.

  After some hesitation, they both got to their feet.

  “I guess this is really good night, this time.” Saffron didn’t want it to be, but it was the only way to protect Kirsty from the inevitable Saffron torpedo.

  “I guess it is. Good night, Saffron.” Kirsty turned to leave.

 

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