A Girl Called Summer

by Lucy Lord

  ‘She’s a good girl,’ said Britta sadly. ‘Anyway, what can I get you? I discovered some wonderful new herbal teas in Anichas.’ She name-checked the latest health-food shop to open in San Carlos.

  ‘That would be great, thanks. Whatever you recommend.’

  Bella followed Britta into the house. She had only ever seen it before from the beach, and was curious to have a peek inside. It was bigger than it looked, with terracotta-tiled floors and simple whitewashed walls. Brightly coloured Indian throws were slung casually over sofas, and artefacts from all around the globe – Swedish painted wooden dolls, Indian statues, South American wall hangings – gave it a welcoming, if slightly cluttered air. Wind chimes tinkled in the very slight breeze coming off the sea.

  ‘Summer’s in her old bedroom, in there . . .’ Britta nodded towards a wooden door with S-U-M-M-E-R spelt out in red-and-white-painted wooden lettering. ‘Why don’t you go and say hi, while I make the tea? She’ll be glad to see you.’

  Bella carried Daisy across the room (she’d had to leave her buggy at the bottom of the steep stone steps) and opened the door. She blinked in surprise. The room was in complete darkness, the curtains drawn so tightly that not a chink of light could get in.

  ‘Summer?’ she enquired gently.

  ‘Bella?’

  ‘Bella and Daisy, as you’d see if you weren’t lying in total darkness. Do you mind if I open the curtains a bit? It’s a beautiful day out there.’

  ‘So what’s new?’ Summer’s voice was listless.

  Bella ignored her and went to open the curtains. The light that flooded the room revealed its near-squalor. Dirty clothes lay where they’d been dropped on the floor; used mugs, and plates scattered with half-eaten slices of wholemeal toast littered every surface. The almond butter (Bella was getting an eye for these things) on the toast was attracting loads of insects.

  ‘Would you mind taking Daisy for a bit? My arms are absolutely killing me.’

  Summer, who was lying on a single bed facing a wall, sat up slowly. She was wearing what looked like the bottom half of a pair of shortie pyjamas and a grubby black vest top. Her hair was scraped back in a greasy ponytail and her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She still managed to look beautiful, but it was as if somebody had turned down the dimmer switch on her usual golden glow.

  ‘Hey, Daisy,’ she said softly, holding out her arms.

  ‘Summa.’

  ‘My God.’ Summer gave a slight smile for the first time in days, as she took Daisy from Bella. ‘She said my name.’

  ‘She’s been chattering away non-stop, ever since she said her first word at my party.’

  Oh, for Christ’s sake, you stupid cow!

  ‘Y-your party,’ Summer stammered, her eyes filling with tears, and before Bella knew it, she was sobbing her heart out, huge gulping, snotty sobs convulsing her slender body.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart,’ said Bella in anguish, sitting down next to her to give her a hug. ‘Just let it all out, and then you can tell me all about it.’

  ‘Doh ky, Summa,’ said Daisy, from somewhere inside the two women’s arms. At this, Summer started to laugh through her tears, wiping her face on the back of her hand.

  ‘Sorry, Daisy, I’m drenching you.’

  ‘Let me take her,’ said Bella. ‘And cry all you want. I’m in no hurry.’

  Summer took a couple of deep breaths. ‘It’s OK, I’m done crying. I’m sorry. I know I’ve gotta get a grip. I’m behaving like a total idiot, but I’ve never felt this way before.’

  ‘Wha—’ Bella started, but was interrupted by Britta pushing through the door, carrying two delicately painted cups of herbal tea.

  ‘Hey, darling,’ she said.

  ‘Hey, Mamma.’ Summer smiled weakly.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to interrupt you two gals. Just brought you some calming lavender tea.’

  ‘Thanks, Britta,’ said Bella, taking one of the fine bone china cups with her left hand and putting it on the tiled floor. Summer took the other.

  ‘Holler if you need anything else.’ Britta shut the door quietly behind her.

  ‘So . . .’ Bella turned to Summer with a sympathetic smile. ‘Do you want to tell me all about it?’

  ‘This has to have been the worst week of my life,’ said Summer slowly. Bella squeezed her hand. ‘Maybe that means my life has been too sheltered – I don’t know. But after feeling so happy when I first met Jack, I guess it’s all come as a bit of a shock.’

  ‘The Press have been pretty bloody horrible,’ said Bella. Despite the fact that Jack had dumped her, Summer had been predictably vilified in the tabloids as the heartless scarlet woman who had split up Hollywood’s golden couple. All the journalists agreed that Jack’s return to LA was merely a ruse to put them off the scent before he and Summer got back together. ‘And as for that boss of yours – what a piece of lowlife scum!’

  Yes, David had kissed and told, painting Summer as a cruel nymphomaniac who used men for sex before discarding them like used condoms. He’d shared intimate photos and even described her favourite positions in bed to some of the seedier tabloids.

  ‘He’s not my boss any more. But yes – God knows what I ever saw in him. The very thought of him makes my flesh crawl now.’

  ‘Not surprised. And of course he’s not your boss any more – no way could you carry on working for a creep like that!’

  ‘No, Bella. He’s not my boss any more because he fired me.’

  ‘What? The cunt can’t do that.’ Bella automatically put her hands over Daisy’s ears. ‘Surely there are employment laws here? You were brilliant at that job.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And just because he couldn’t handle the fact that you preferred a handsome film star to him (for which, big kudos, by the way – Jack Meadows – YUM!), that’s no grounds for giving you the sack. You could probably sue him.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Summer shrugged sadly. ‘Maybe I could. But you’re right, I could never work there again. Shame, because I loved that job.’ She took a swig of lavender tea. ‘But all my old workmates would be laughing behind my back. Those photos, those sordid details he decided to share with the whole fucking world . . . FUCKING SHITHOLE BASTARD!’ she suddenly shouted.

  ‘That’s a bit more like it,’ smiled Bella. ‘Listen, why don’t we continue this outside? It’s so beautiful out there and you don’t look as if you’ve seen fresh air in days.’

  ‘I haven’t. OK, you’re right – let’s get out there. It’s not nice for you and Daisy to have to wallow in my miserable pit.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not that – I . . .’

  ‘I know.’ Summer smiled and stood up, shoving her feet into an old pair of flip-flops that were lying on the floor next to her bed. ‘You have my best interests at heart, and I appreciate it. Thanks for coming.’

  ‘It’s nothing. It’s nice to see you again. Tell you what, though. Do you think your mum would mind looking after Daisy, so we can have a proper uninterrupted chat?’

  ‘I can think of nothing she’d like more.’

  *

  Bella and Summer were sitting in adjacent deckchairs in the shade of a fragrant lemon tree. The uninterrupted view down to the Art Resort in its beautiful bay was spectacular. Several boats with pristine white sails bobbed on the glittering sea, and shoals of brightly coloured fish were visible beneath the crystal-clear waters, even from this distance.

  ‘I honestly thought he was the real deal,’ said Summer, not taking her eyes from the bay. ‘That day we had, Bella. Those nights. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Beyond magical. I lost count of the number of times he told me he loved me.’

  ‘It does sound incredibly romantic.’ Bella kept her own gaze fixed on the horizon.

  ‘Well, he can’t have loved me, can he? Not if he was willing to throw it all away over a creep like David. He clearly is a really good actor. In fact, it was an Oscar-winning performance.’ Her eyes filled with tears again and she angrily
swiped them with the back of her hand.

  ‘Jack seemed like a genuine guy to me,’ said Bella gently. ‘But he is a man. God, bloody men and their stubborn pride – they can be infuriating sometimes!’

  Summer snorted. ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘You know they have that stupid Madonna/whore thing going on . . . And he’d put you on a pretty high pedestal by the sound of it.’

  ‘He can hardly have had me down as the Madonna type.’ Summer gave another snort of laughter. ‘We screwed on our first date.’

  ‘You were screwing him.’ Bella pointed out. ‘He wouldn’t have minded that. But I can see how an Alpha male like Jack wouldn’t take too kindly to his woman, as I bet he had started to think of you – in a stupid, male, Neanderthal way – shagging somebody else’ – Bella was on a roll now – ‘especially somebody as distinctly Beta male as your horrible hairy ex-boss!’

  Summer couldn’t help but giggle.

  ‘Oh, Summer, what could have possessed you? Seriously? Weird little ape-like creature . . .’ Bella was giggling too, now. ‘Those little hairy arms and legs . . . Those stubbly little hairy fingers . . . I bet he had a hairy back, too! Oh God, look at you! He did, he did, he did, didn’t he?!’

  Soon they were both laughing hysterically, shoulders heaving as they clutched the sides of their deckchairs.

  ‘Oh God oh God oh God,’ Summer eventually gasped. ‘Thank you, Bella. I can’t tell you how good it feels to laugh again.’

  ‘It’s good to see you laugh.’

  As quickly as their laughter had bubbled up, it subsided, and they both gazed out to sea. After a while, Summer turned to Bella, her eyes blazing.

  ‘You know who else I could kill, though?’

  ‘David’s parents, for creating him?’

  ‘Jorge.’

  ‘What’s poor Jorge got to do with it?’ Bella had a soft spot for Jorge and couldn’t understand certain people’s – well, Summer’s and Andy’s, anyway – antipathy towards him.

  ‘He sold the first story to the Press.’

  ‘What?’ asked Bella in shock. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘He was the only one who knew all the details. He was there at your party and at Pacha that night, he gave Tamara drugs, he took the upskirt photo—’

  ‘Whoa whoa, stop right there! He gave Tamara drugs? What the fuck?’

  Summer laughed, not unkindly.

  ‘Oh, Bella, Bella, you can be naïve sometimes. Haven’t you realized yet? Jorge is one of the biggest dealers on the island!’

  ‘Oh. My. God.’ Bella slapped herself on the forehead. Of course, it all made sense. The description of himself as an ‘odd-job man’, the flashy wheels, the constant texting, the whispered conversations with that coked-up bastard Jamie Cavendish. ‘How can I have been so stupid?’

  ‘Hey, don’t worry about it. He can be very charming. I know – I fell for it myself.’

  ‘So what is the story with you two? What happened all those years ago, Summer?’

  Summer sighed.

  ‘We kind of grew up together. We used to play on the beach as kids. When I was about thirteen and he was sixteen, I started to notice how handsome he was, and developed a huge crush on him.’

  ‘God, I can imagine.’

  ‘He realized. Of course he did. And to give him credit, he didn’t take advantage of me then – I was still a geeky kid, in his eyes. But when I turned fifteen . . .’

  ‘ . . . and he was eighteen? God, you must have been a beautiful pair of teenagers.’

  ‘Thanks. But yeah, he was my first time. Nothing wrong with that – I was totally up for it.’

  ‘I can’t tell you how soft porn this is sounding!’

  Summer laughed. ‘Yeah – I guess. But I adored him. He was the love of my life – and I his, or so I thought.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘It turned out he was already dealing. Small-time stuff in those days. Mainly pills to English package tourists in San Antonio. And I don’t want to be rude about your compatriots, but Jeez, some of those girls . . .’

  ‘Yeah, I know. We Brits abroad don’t have a terribly good reputation.’

  ‘He said they just threw themselves at him, that he couldn’t help himself . . .’

  *

  The sunset had been particularly spectacular that night. Summer had sat with thousands of tourists outside Café Del Mar, drinking cocktails and listening to chill-out music. She’d only been to San Antonio a few times before, as she’d been brought up to appreciate Ibiza’s gentler charms, but one of the holistic therapists at the Art Resort had offered her a lift across the island on his moped.

  Now, as excitement rose as the glowing red orb sank slowly into the sea, culminating in a communal roar of approval and round of applause that rippled all the way down the strip, San An’s more obvious, brazen appeal sent thrills through her teenage heart.

  Jorge had recently started an evening job handing out flyers up and down the strip, and would generally drive back across the island afterwards to see her on the beach, where they would make love under the stars. But tonight Summer wanted to surprise him – she had managed to blag a couple of free tickets to a foam party at Es Paradis; at the grand old age of sixteen she looked just grown-up enough to get past the bouncers if she wore make-up.

  As it got darker, the crowds started drifting away from the beach and one of Café del Mar’s barmen, noticing the beautiful, over-made-up young blonde sitting alone on the beach with her arms wrapped around her legs, made his way over to her.

  ‘Is everything OK, señorita?’ In San An, where most of the punters were foreigners, English was the lingua franca.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ Summer smiled at him. Wow, she was exquisite. ‘But – I don’t suppose you happen to know a man’ – how she loved saying this – ‘called Jorge Dupont? Dark hair, handsome – he works here on the strip.’

  The barman frowned slightly.

  ‘Jorge? Yes, I know him.’

  ‘I’ve been here all evening and I haven’t seen him. Perhaps he’s not working tonight?’

  ‘Oh yes, he’s working tonight.’ The barman’s voice had taken a grimmer tone as he saw Summer in a different light. How much younger could these druggie slappers get? ‘But the strip isn’t his patch. Look, if you walk down there’ – he pointed away from the beach – ‘and take the third right, followed by the second left, you should find him quite easily.’

  ‘Oh, thank you so much!’ Summer jumped to her feet and gave him a spontaneous kiss on the cheek, before setting off in the direction he’d indicated.

  It was decidedly seedier away from the beach, with loud, neon-lit bars advertising half-price drinks all night and ‘English breakfast just like mother makes it.’ Groups of pissed, sunburnt lads vomited in the streets and girls clearly totally off their tits stumbled from bar to bar, make-up smeared across their faces. Summer was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable. This wasn’t the Ibiza she knew; why was Jorge working here?

  She turned another corner into a completely dark, deserted cul-de-sac, and frowned. Surely this couldn’t be right? But then she heard noises at the dead-end of the street and carried on walking in the darkness, her heart pounding as she started to make out shadowy figures in the gloom.

  When she finally identified one of them, she cried out in horror.

  Jorge was standing against the wall, with his jeans around his ankles. On her knees in front of him, a plump girl whose low-slung shorts exposed an unsightly tattoo on her love handles was giving him a blow-job. He was simultaneously snogging another girl and fondling the tits of a third girl with cheap peroxide hair and long black roots.

  She threw up on the spot.

  *

  ‘He broke my heart.’

  ‘But you forgave him?’

  ‘I grew up. I went away to university, I had more boyfriends. This is a small island, I couldn’t avoid him for ever. It was easier just to be polite.’

  ‘And now?’

&n
bsp; ‘He broke my heart once. I’m not going to let him get away with doing it twice.’

  ‘But how can you be sure it was him?’ Bella was reeling from the revelations about the man who’d spent all summer being so kind and helpful and – OK, she had to admit it – flirtatious with her.

  ‘He as good as admitted it, Bella! He told me, that night at Pacha, that he knew about me and Jack. He admitted that he’d given Tamara drugs. And the very next day, it all comes out in the Press? A bit too much of a coincidence, to my mind.’

  ‘It does sound like it.’ Bella was disappointed. ‘Why am I always such a crap judge of character?’

  Summer smiled. ‘You’re just a nice person, who likes to give people the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Bella smiled back. ‘But now down to the nitty gritty. Would it be horribly insensitive of me to ask about the sex on the beach with Jack? I am gagging to know the filthy details!’

  Summer laughed. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

  *

  ‘Hello, darling.’ Andy’s voice was warm but slightly dist-racted as he answered his phone. ‘How is she?’

  ‘She’s OK. I’ll tell you later,’ said Bella, glancing at Summer, who was sitting across the rickety outdoor wooden table from her. ‘Listen, sweetheart, Britta’s invited me and Daisy to stay for lunch. She’s doing her fantastic raw-food lasagne.’

  ‘Sounds delicious,’ said Andy drily.

  ‘It is. But it means I won’t see the others at Benirrás until after lunch, and it also leaves you car-less. You don’t mind cadging a lift with one of them, do you?’

  ‘Are you mad?!’ Bella could hear the sudden elation in his voice. ‘This gives me the perfect excuse to stay at home and get on with my book! God, I need a day off from this constant lotus-eating.’

  ‘You and me both.’ Bella laughed. ‘OK, I’ll see you back at the ranch. Can you let the others know?’

  ‘Sure. I love you.’

  ‘I love you too.’

  ‘Give Daisy a kiss from me?’

  ‘Of course.’ As she ended the call, Bella plonked a great big smacker on Daisy’s lips. ‘That was from Daddy.’