One Golden Summer

by Clare Lydon

  “Um, Kirsty?”

  Turning slowly, there was hopefulness in her expression. “Yes?”

  “You forgot to give me my bag.”

  Kirsty palm-slapped her forehead. “Right. It’s the reason I’m here.”

  Saffron wanted to ask if it was the only reason but wasn’t sure how she’d respond to the answer, afraid of all the possibilities.

  Chapter 11

  “Are you sure you don’t want to just go with an invite cut into the shape of a dagger?” Kirsty glanced down at her legs, which were whiter than she’d like. It wasn’t something she normally worried about when summer rolled around. However, now she was mixing with Saffron and Ginger—both effortlessly tanned—it played on her mind. Kirsty had tried using fake tan one year, and her mum still referred to it as “the summer of orange”.

  “A bit too violent.” Ginger adjusted her shades on the bridge of her nose. They were much needed today on Ginger’s back patio, which looked over the beach. To their left, the Poseidon Inn watched over the sea beyond. To their right, stalls were setting up to sell hundreds of oysters and gallons of fizz throughout the day. Straight ahead, the tropical smell of factor 30 being applied to acres of pale British skin filled the air.

  “What about a rainbow?”

  Ginger let out a bark of laughter as she shifted on her padded garden chair. “Saffron’s the gay one, not me.” She paused. “Talking of which, we went to the Lobster Grill for dinner the other night. Fish and chips to die for.”

  Kirsty nodded. “Best in town.”

  “You weren’t lying. Anyway, it didn’t escape my attention she was talking a lot about you.” Ginger pressed the tip of her index finger into Kirsty’s knee. “I think she likes you.”

  Kirsty took a breath and wasn’t sure what to do with it. How was she meant to react? In a typically British way, naturally. “Don’t be silly. I might be gay, but I’m far too old. Plus, she’s a movie star.” She put a finger to her chest. “In case you missed it, I’m very much not.”

  “That’s beside the point.” Ginger cocked her head. “You get on, right?”

  Kirsty nodded. She couldn’t deny that.

  “You don’t look at her and want to vomit?”

  “You’ve got such a way with words.”

  “I know. I should have been a poet.” Ginger grinned. “What I mean is, Saffron scrubs up well. So do you. You get on. What’s the issue? I’ve always wanted my sister to meet someone who's not famous, someone normal. Famous people are crazy, take my word for it. Echo Black being a case in point.” Ginger gave her the trademark Oliver smile. “You, however, are the picture of normality. You’d be perfect.”

  Echo Black. That name again. She was very much a feature in Kirsty’s life these days, even though Saffron had implied what they had was purely for movie publicity. Did Ginger know that? Kirsty went to reply, but Ginger held up a single finger in front of her.

  “And don’t give me that ‘I’m too old’ guff. There's an age gap, but Saffron has lived a million lives. She's an old soul and you’re hip. Plus, she goes for older women. Always has. Echo Black isn’t as young as she says she is, believe me.”

  Perhaps Ginger didn’t know the truth. Perhaps Saffron had just confided in her. Kirsty’s insides beamed at the thought. “I’ve just never gone for someone so much younger before.”

  “How old was your ex-wife?”

  Kirsty sat up straighter in her chair. “Two years younger. But it wasn’t the age that drove us apart. She wanted to live a bigger life than me. She wanted to travel. To go out to parties. I’ve never been that person. I’m far more of a homebody.”

  Ginger eyed her. “Did she cheat on you?”

  An image of Anna on their cream sofa in their old house trying to explain away sleeping with someone else flitted through her mind. Kirsty hadn’t thought about it in a while. She nodded, feeling empty. “She met someone at one of those parties, in the end.”

  Ginger gave her a sad smile. “I wish Dave had cheated on me, rather than just deciding he’d had enough and wanted out. It would have made it easier to take.”

  “It didn’t feel like that at the time.” Kirsty clenched her fist, then released. “In the end, I’m pleased she did it. Looking back, we weren’t right for each other.”

  “Whereas you and Saffron could be.” Ginger pressed a finger to Kirsty’s arm. “I think Saffron could be a homebody, too. If she let herself. She’s still figuring out who she is. She’s a little late to the party.”

  “I don’t know.” Kirsty frowned. “Even if age weren’t an issue, I think my lifestyle and that of a movie star aren’t all that compatible.”

  However, when Kirsty tried to picture them together, it was surprisingly easy. Saffron in her ripped jeans that clung to her perfect bum. A casual arm around Kirsty’s shoulder. Hot lips on hers. Kirsty’s tongue sliding up Saffron’s tanned neck, caressing her silky skin.

  Kirsty shifted in her chair, then crossed her legs. She put a hand to her cheek. A tenner said she was blushing. “Anyway, enough about your sister. I’m here to discuss your party invites.”

  Ginger gave her a knowing look. “Have I made you all flustered? You look just like your mum when you are. Which is no bad thing, by the way. Your parents are gorgeous.”

  “They have their moments.” Kirsty rubbed her hands together. “The invites.” She grabbed her phone and showed Ginger an image. “You could have something like this? It’s a fridge magnet the size of a card, and we can get it designed however we want. I’ve got an illustrator in mind. So now we just need to come up with something funny for the front.”

  Ginger studied the product, before turning to Kirsty. “A magnetic card invite. I love it.” She leaned over and gave her a crushing hug before pulling away. “You’re a genius. The one thing we don’t want to do is let Saffron take charge of this. She gets carried away when it comes to me. She still feels guilty for not being at my wedding.”

  Ginger’s phone lit up. “Speak of the devil. My sister is on her way.”

  Kirsty ignored the way her senses woke up at the mere mention of Saffron. Yes, she’d looked gorgeous at her parents’ BBQ. Yes, they’d shared a moment on the beach. But Kirsty was still who she was. Could Ginger be right in what she’d said?

  Kirsty stretched her arms in the air, turning her head to look for Saffron. No sign as yet. Out on the glassy sea, an impressive windsurfer was doing their thing. “It’s a yes to these invites? You don’t want to go for online, as I found some fab ones there, too?” She had to get back to the matter at hand.

  “Positive.” Ginger’s tone was final. “When Dave and I got married, we did it in a rush. Youthful impulsiveness. I was still reeling from my parents’ death. Saffron was filming all the time, so I never saw her. We just upped and did it. No invites. A handful of guests.” She leaned her head back to the sun. “This party is my belated wedding.” As soon as it was out of her mouth, Ginger sat up. “I only just realised that when I said it out loud.” She stood up, pacing her paved back patio.

  “Morning all.”

  Kirsty turned to where Saffron was undoing Ginger’s back gate, walking towards them with a pad and pencil case tucked under her arm. She was still impossibly tall, her vest top casually hanging off her broad, tanned shoulders. This morning was turning out to be a tsunami of the Oliver sisters.

  Before Kirsty could reply, Ginger ran over to Saffron and grabbed her by the shoulders. “I just realised something!” She was shouting like she wanted the whole beach to hear. “This party is my wedding!”

  Saffron put her things on the patio table and took Ginger in her arms. “I know, which is why I want it to be perfect,” she said, her mouth beside Ginger’s ear, her eyes on Kirsty. Saffron’s gaze was heated.

  All the blood in Kirsty’s body travelled south.

  Ginger promptly burst into tears.

  Kirsty blinked and jumped up as Saffron steered her sister to a chair. Saffron pulled up a seat beside her, with Kirsty to G
inger’s right.

  Saffron and Kirsty both went to put an arm around Ginger at the same time, only succeeding in clutching each other.

  Kirsty turned her head left just as Saffron turned right.

  Boom! Kirsty’s heartbeat revved in her ears like a thunderclap.

  Electricity crackled between them, Ginger the conductor.

  Saffron held her gaze for far longer than necessary, and Kirsty only broke when it seemed a little unfair to be doing whatever they were doing while Ginger was having a moment. However, tell that to her libido, which was currently zigzagging around her stomach, before settling somewhere way lower down.

  Kirsty crossed her legs again and held in a breath.

  This was not her normal Thursday morning, flirting with a movie star. Were they flirting? She had no idea.

  Ginger blew her nose with some force, which brought everyone back to the present.

  Saffron removed her arm.

  Kirsty cleared her throat, her thoughts in tatters. What the hell was going on? She was still on the clock here, still being paid to be Ginger’s party planner.

  Even if the woman paying the bills was causing her heart palpitations.

  Kirsty put a hand on Ginger’s thigh. She was by far the safer sister to touch. “Like Saffron says, this is going to be perfect, because we’re all going to make it so.”

  Ginger blew her nose again. “Kirsty’s sourced some brilliant fridge magnet invites, so that’s sorted, too.”

  Saffron nodded. “Great.”

  “Now, we’ve got the date, venue, booze and invites dealt with. Just the food and entertainment to finalise.” Kirsty squeezed Ginger’s knee. “We’re cooking on gas.”

  Saffron snagged her gaze one more time. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Kirsty picked up her phone. “Shit, it’s nearly ten. I’m opening up today. I have to run.”

  Ginger nodded. “Sure thing.” She snapped her fingers. “I never gave you that coffee, though.”

  Kirsty shrugged. “I’ll get one on the way back.”

  “I’ll come with you. I need the steps. I’m buying.” Ginger got up, looking towards Saffron. “You coming? Or were you heading elsewhere?”

  “Right with you.” Saffron picked up her pad. “You can drop me off on the way.”

  Ginger ran in to get her house keys and locked up. They fell into an easy step side by side, the sea a calming presence to their left. The beach was beginning to fill up with day trippers, towels and blankets spread out on the pebbles. Kirsty had always been glad they had their beach hut so she didn’t have to lie on a bed of tiny rocks.

  As they walked, Kirsty was hyper-aware of Saffron’s arm grazing hers, making her sweat that little bit more.

  “Okay, so Kirsty’s invites sound good. But did I tell you I can get you some in the form of oyster shells, that smell of the sea when you open them?” Saffron had on her I’m a genius face.

  Ginger stopped in her tracks. “Seriously? In this weather, you want me to pipe fishy smells into people’s houses?”

  Saffron’s face fell. “It’s the smell of nature!”

  Kirsty bit down a laugh. Saffron was well-meaning, but Ginger knew how to put her in her place. Still, she clearly cared about her sister’s party. In fact, she was far from the self-centred arsehole Kirsty had first met.

  “I like Kirsty’s idea better.”

  Saffron shut up.

  They carried on walking, past the oyster stalls, then one selling beach apparel, along with soft drinks, ice creams, and sticks of rock. Kirsty’s mouth watered as they passed the candyfloss machine. She’d always been partial as a kid.

  “What about what you’re wearing? I can help you with that, right? You need something special. Something to tell everyone you’re back on the market.”

  Ginger snorted. “Are you sure you’re not projecting? Do you need something new to tell everyone you’re back on the market?”

  Kirsty almost felt sorry for Saffron.

  Saffron sighed, her pace slowing. “It’s a good job you’re my only sister, otherwise I might see if I could replace you.” She paused, kicking a stone with her bubble-gum pink Converse. “I could get my assistant to fly you in something from Milan. Something designer. You’d look a million dollars. What do you think?”

  They stopped outside The Coffee Hut, somewhere Kirsty had brought Ginger before.

  “Coffee here?” Ginger asked.

  Kirsty nodded.

  “Hello!” Saffron waved her hand in front of Ginger’s face. “Milan? Designer dress? Your sister trying to help?”

  If Saffron had stamped her foot, Kirsty wouldn’t have been surprised. She could picture them as sisters when they were younger, with a similar scene playing out.

  “I’ve already sorted a killer dress from a boutique Kirsty recommended on the High Street, so no need for Milan or anything over the top.” Ginger’s voice softened. “I know you mean well, but I’m doing this my way.”

  Saffron went to respond just as her phone rang. She checked it. Her shoulders hunched. Then she spun on her heel and walked off.

  Ginger nodded towards her. “That’s her agent, Pearl. Saffron needs to sack her. Pearl only has Pearl’s interests at heart. Every time Saffron speaks to her, she hunches a little more. I want her to be happy, and it’s not going to happen with Pearl in the picture.”

  They arrived at the front of the queue, and Ginger ordered three white coffees, which they took to a nearby outdoor table.

  Saffron joined them after a few minutes.

  “Everything okay?” Ginger asked.

  Saffron put her phone on the table, along with her pad and pencil case. “Just Pearl. Movie stuff. The usual. I’d rather not talk about it.” She sipped her coffee. “Back to your party and the dress I won’t be buying you. Are you going to let me do anything for your party, or was it just lip service to shut me up?”

  Ginger patted Saffron’s arm with her hand. “What about music? You could put a playlist together for me. You’re young and hip.”

  Saffron snorted. “What I know about music you could write on the back of a postage stamp. But I can look into it.”

  “I would love that.” Ginger was throwing Saffron a bone.

  Lizzo’s latest track began to play through the café’s speakers. Saffron quirked an eyebrow. “I know Lizzo, met her at a party. I could ask her to play live! How awesome would that be?”

  Ginger began to laugh, and it soon turned hysterical.

  Saffron frowned. “What did I say?”

  “Not Hollywood, Saff! I don’t want a famous singer. I just want normal music with normal people.” Ginger covered her heart with her palm. “For once, I want to be the star attraction, not anyone else.”

  “Okay, I hear you.” Saffron drummed her fingers on the wooden table. “A live band, though? Does that meet your approval?”

  Ginger scrunched her forehead before nodding. “Do some research. Run some by me. I don’t mind a live band. So long as it’s not a 15-piece orchestra flown in from New York. Or Maroon 5.”

  Saffron’s face spelled affronted. “I’ve got some taste.”

  Chapter 12

  “I can’t believe the view.” Ginger whistled, standing on Saffron’s veranda. “And, I can’t get enough of the sea air.” She spread her arms out, as if embracing her new way of life. “If I were you, I’d never want to live anywhere else.”

  Saffron uncorked one of the bottles of red Kirsty had delivered. “It’s much more relaxing here than my place in London.”

  Ginger, with a glass in hand, sat in one of the padded outdoor chairs with an oomph. “There was a time I’d never live anywhere else than London. Now, I can’t imagine going back.”

  Saffron leaned against the wooden railing, facing her sister, a sense of tranquillity washing over her. “Do you think this is your forever place?”

  “My forever place?” Ginger laughed, her eyes clouding over with nostalgia. “I haven’t heard that phrase in so long.”

/>   “It used to be one of our staple conversations when we’d stay up late, unable to sleep because our parents had thirty of their closest friends over for after-dinner drinks that lasted until dawn.” Saffron let out an anguished sigh.

  “I still feel like I’m catching up on lost sleep.” Ginger yawned, half-covering her mouth. “Do you remember the time Mum actually swung from the chandelier, pretending to be Tarzan after Dad wouldn’t take up the dare?”

  “How could I forget? Who would have thought hundreds of crystals smashing to pieces could make such a deafening sound?” Saffron closed her eyes, her heartbeat speeding up. “When I had to film a scene that involved jumping off the side of a burning building, which was all staged, mind you, I froze on the first ten takes. I kept hearing the shattering of glass, followed by Mum’s screams.”

  “How’d you finally jump?”

  Saffron opened her eyes and gave Ginger a wistful smile. “I remembered you whispering in my ear that we’d never be like them. Irresponsible. Careless. Never thinking about the consequences. For them, it was all about being the life of the party and getting a laugh, to hell with the carnage.” Saffron set her glass down on the railing, her throat constricting. “To this day, I’m still kicking myself for not seeing the truth in the early years. Thinking how cool our parents were for being involved in the West End glitterati scene. All of their friends wanted to be like them. Rich. Fabulous. Adored.” She threaded her fingers and batted her eyelashes. “Idolised.”

  “I remember finding it funny when Dad would bump into things when he was driving. The way he’d say whoopsie-daisy, and then break out into his hyena laugh.” Ginger sighed, and swiped her glistening brow. “It wasn’t until I was much older when I realised that was his drunk laugh.”

  Saffron cringed, recalling just how often that had been. “It’s amazing we survived our childhood with them. It would have been better if they’d kept their theatre jobs and not been fired.”

  Ginger rested her head against the chair, looking up into the darkness overhead, connecting the dots of light with a finger. “That’s why I love it here. All the pressure to be someone I’m not is finally off me.”