Summer Season

by Julia Williams

  Joel was grateful that Kezzie hadn’t turned up early. He wasn’t sure he could face her that morning. Idiot. What did he think he’d been doing kissing her?

  There had been a few women since Claire, but they’d been fairly meaningless encounters to fulfil a physical need, and make him feel less lonely. But as soon as anyone had tried to get close, he’d made polite excuses and moved on.

  But this, with Kezzie – in a moment of weakness, he’d let her get too close and it wouldn’t do. It made for an incredibly awkward situation. She was in his house such a lot. He liked her but he wasn’t sure he was ready to entrust his heart to anyone yet. He didn’t know if he would be able to ever again. He’d try and tactfully tell Kezzie when he got home.

  But when he got back from work that night Kezzie wasn’t there. She clearly had been, as a cup and plate were neatly stacked on the drainer, and her boots were sitting outside the back door. She must be as mortified about last night as he was. Damn, he’d have to try and speak to her tomorrow.

  But the following day it was the same. Kezzie arrived after he left, and was gone before his return. The only sign of her having been there was the daily progress on the garden, which was finally beginning to take shape. Joel was impressed with what Kezzie was doing; the patterns did look like hearts, and she’d cleverly woven the initials E and L into the centre, just as on the original plans. It was going to be fantastic. He should tell her so, if he ever got the chance to speak to her again that is.

  On Friday he found his moment, as he arrived back slightly earlier than usual. He came home to change first, before picking Sam up, and encountered Kezzie walking up the garden with all her equipment, clearly on her way to tidy up.

  ‘I was beginning to think you were avoiding me,’ said Joel, feeling embarrassed.

  ‘Well I am,’ said Kezzie. That was Kezzie, nothing if not direct.

  ‘I hope it’s— look, Kezzie, I’m sorry about the other night. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea.’

  ‘What wrong idea?’ Kezzie looked blankly at him, suspicious.

  ‘You know, because I kissed you,’ said Joel, beginning to sweat profusely. ‘I’m sorry, it was a mistake.’

  ‘You mean you’re not going to whisk me off my feet and ask me to have your babies?’ said Kezzie.

  Oh God. He’d really cocked this up. This was going to take some recovering from.

  ‘Er – no.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ said Kezzie with a grin, ‘because I don’t want to have anyone’s babies, least of all yours.’

  ‘That’s a bit deflating.’

  ‘Would you rather I told you, you’d broken my heart?’ said Kezzie.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well then,’ said Kezzie. ‘Let’s stick at being friends shall we? I think we’d be better at that.’

  Joel felt a weight slide off his shoulders. He enjoyed Kezzie’s company and hated to think of things becoming awkward between them.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘I’d hate to think I’d upset you.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t like you,’ explained Kezzie, ‘I do, a lot. But the other night made me realize that I really am not over Richard, and I don’t think you’re over Claire. We’ve both got far too much stuff to sort out.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Joel with relief. ‘Thanks, I’ve been really fretting about it.’

  ‘Don’t,’ said Kezzie. ‘Let’s just enjoy being friends. I think romance is overrated, don’t you?’

  ‘Possibly,’ said Joel. ‘But don’t you think you’re stopping yourself getting over Richard? Hiding yourself down here, never seeing him? It’s like you’re running away. I think you should use Summer Fest as an excuse to try and contact him and pump him for gardening contacts. That way you might get a feel for how the land lies.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Kezzie. ‘Suppose he doesn’t want to talk to me?’

  ‘And suppose he’s been waiting for your call?’ argued Joel. ‘You won’t know until you try, will you? I know if it was me and Claire, I wouldn’t think twice.’

  He sighed, and looked away.

  ‘At least you still have a chance,’ he said. ‘What have you got to lose?’

  Edward and Lily

  1900–1914

  The years passed, and the children grew. In time another sister came to join the family.

  Our new baby is called Matilda, Edward wrote in his diary, in the summer of 1900. I have planted peonies for her in the knot garden. She is a plump and smiling child, and Lily dotes on her. I feel so blessed that despite our early heartache we have such a perfect family. And Lily I love more than ever. Tending the knot garden together, with the children playing around us, is the greatest of joys. My only sadness is that Lily still seems unable to love Connie the way that I do. I try to make it up to her, by loving her for both of us …

  Edward grew wealthy from his many clients around the country, but the more time passed, the less inclined he felt like travelling from the place where he felt happiest. He was content mainly to spend his spare time pottering in the garden with Lily and the children, or taking them on long walks in the countryside. In summer it was their favourite pastime to picnic under the old willow tree by the river and watch the children play.

  While all his children delighted him, Edward couldn’t help but reserve a special place in his heart for Connie, trying to make up for Lily’s lack of interest in her as best he could. Lily doted on Harry and the baby, and barely seemed to notice Connie at times, but if it bothered Connie she never said.

  Connie was so different from her mother, quiet and studious, and even as a child she was incredibly stoical in the face of pain. There was a day Edward remembered well when she came in with a thorn deep in her thumb, which clearly pained her, yet she shed not a single tear when Edward tenderly pulled it out. Even Lily had marvelled at her courage.

  The years passed, the children grew, and Edward found himself more involved in philanthropy than gardening, the wealth he had accrued from designing gardens for the great and good, allowing him to do charitable works nearer to home.

  I have decided to design a garden for the village, he wrote in his diary in 1904, the people of Heartsease need a place to go for recreation, and I will willingly share my expertise.

  So in summer of 1905, Lily proudly opened the Heartsease Public Gardens for the first time. There was a grand party, and the whole village turned out. They had bunting and flags, and a village fete. Lily, Edward and the children – the girls dressed in white muslin dresses, Harry in a sailor suit – were photographed with the villagers in front of the gates of the new park. It was one of those languorous long summer days that seemed to go on forever. The sun shone, the village band played, and Edward felt blessed to live in a place like Heartsease. He watched with pride as the village children ran joyously in the gardens he’d created for them. After the knot garden, he wrote in his diary, the Heartsease Public Gardens are my greatest achievement.

  ‘I’m so proud of you,’ Lily said, as they returned home that night, the children full of sticky cakes and buns, and exhausted from running wild with the village children. ‘You do so much good for everyone.’

  She kissed him lightly on the cheek, and that evening, when the children were in bed, she and Edward sat on the veranda, watching the sun go down behind the hills, and listened to the bats screeching in the dusk. They held hands and celebrated their good fortune.

  Later, looking back to that time, it seemed to Edward that the sun had always shone, and the summers seemed endless, full of joy and laughter as his children tumbled up in a happy family time.

  Lily’s diary, July 1905

  Today I opened Edward’s gardens. It is such a noble and good thing he has done for the people of Heartsease. Now all the villagers have somewhere to go, and judging by the children today, the gardens are an instant success.

  I am so proud of Edward, so lucky to have married him. I looked at our beautiful children tonight, as they slept, and thank
ed God that I have been so fortunate. After all that early heartache I have my heart’s desire right here, with Edward in Lovelace Cottage. I feel I will never want for anything again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kezzie spent several days mulling over what Joel had said. Maybe he was right. If she got in touch with Richard again, she could know one way or another if it was definitely over. It had been nearly six months now, and no word from him, but then she hadn’t made it easy for him to get in touch with her. Perhaps, as Joel had suggested, Richard had been trying to.

  But then again, if he’d been trying to find her surely Richard would have got in touch with her via Flick? She didn’t hold out much hope for him finding her through Facebook, as Richard didn’t even have an account. While he embraced modern technology for business, he was less keen on social networking in his personal life, claiming he’d rather speak to people face to face than online.

  After some internal debate, she decided that rather than ringing him up again – she wasn’t yet ready for the humiliation of having him slam the phone down on her, or hearing that other woman on the phone again – her best bet would be to use the excuse of the Summer Fest as a reason for getting in touch, and to do it by email.

  After much deliberation Kezzie sat down at Jo’s rickety desk with a glass of wine to write an email to Richard.

  To: Richard.Lacey@L&GGardendesigns.com

  From: Kezzie@hotmail.com

  Dear Richard, she wrote. And then got stuck. What to say next? I hope you’re missing me as madly as I’m missing you?

  I know you said you never wanted to hear from me again last time we spoke but I thought I’d email anyway?

  I think we’ve made a huge mistake?

  No, she couldn’t say any of that. It was way too personal.

  She started again.

  To Richard? Too formal.

  Hi, Richard? Too friendly.

  In the end she went with,

  Richard,

  Kezzie here. Just wanting to pick your brains about a community gardening project I’m working on. We’re planning to overhaul a local park, and we need to raise a considerable sum of money. I know it’s cheeky of me after all this time, but I was wondering if you could think of anyone I could contact who might be able to offer their services.

  Hope you’re keeping well,

  Kezzie

  She felt like she had been reasonably casual, and not too intense, while managing to maintain a friendly air. She read the email over several times, and took a great big gulp of wine.

  ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ she said, her finger hovering over the keyboard for a minute, before she decided she may as well just go for it, and pressed send. The minute the email had gone she regretted it, but it was too late now. Oh well. She’d have to deal with the fallout tomorrow. As she went to turn the computer off, an email pinged straight back into her inbox. Kezzie swallowed hard. She’d assumed Richard would have gone home for the evening, and hadn’t imagined he’d still be sitting at his desk. It was tantalizing to think of them connected by their computer screens. So close, and yet so far away.

  From: Richard. Lacey@L&GGardendesigns.com

  To: Kezzie@hotmail.com

  Kezzie,

  If you want help with your gardening project your best bet is to contact the RoseThyme Agency who have a lot of gardening celebs on their books.

  I recall from our last conversation I said I didn’t want to see you any more. That hasn’t changed. I think it advisable for you not to contact me again.

  Richard

  Kezzie felt as if a cold bucket of water had been thrown over her head. Seeing the words there so starkly in front of her was even more hurtful than it had been all those months ago. She let out a howl of anguish. Part of her wanted to launch a tirade at him, telling him how wrong he was, begging him to forgive her, but she was too proud. All that would do would make him hate her even more. Instead, she responded with a curt, I only contacted you for the information you gave me. Thanks for that. You won’t hear from me again. And then she deleted her hotmail account. It was one she didn’t use very often, but she couldn’t bear the thought of any more correspondence like that from Richard. Better if he didn’t know how to contact her. And now she’d opened the correspondence, better if she wasn’t tempted to contact him again.

  Kezzie switched off the computer and stared out into the gathering gloom. Finally she had to face it, after all these months of pretending. It really was over. Richard was never going to take her back.

  Lauren was having the opposite problem. After years of thinking Troy didn’t want her, she was being faced with the prospect that now, all of a sudden he actually genuinely did.

  Lauren had been stunned by Troy’s revelation that he was missing her. It was what she’d wanted to hear for a long time. And yet now he’d finally recognized the error of his ways, she wasn’t convinced she wanted him to. She’d got used to it being just her and the girls. They’d been doing fine till Troy came along. And if she wanted a man in her life, she wasn’t sure it would be Troy she was after.

  A picture of Joel swam unbidden in front of her eyes. Now that was ridiculous. He was good looking, it was true; you’d have to be a blind, hormonally challenged hermit not to notice that. But there was so much emotional confusion tied up in Lauren’s feelings for Joel. First, as Claire’s friend, she felt guilty for even thinking Joel attractive. She hadn’t paid any attention to Joel’s good looks when Claire was alive, but increasingly of late, Lauren had been aware that he was very, very, attractive. But she couldn’t possibly think about it because Claire had been her friend. Besides, Claire had painted a very warts and all picture of her husband, so Lauren was fully aware of all Joel’s faults. Claire had been running round like a headless chicken while Joel had ostensibly been doing up the house, but as far as Lauren could see, it was just an excuse not to be there at bath time. Joel probably wasn’t much of a better bet than Troy. Having a man in the house wasn’t a guarantee of support.

  Lauren made her way reluctantly to the pub, knowing that tonight she was sharing another shift with Troy. Despite her anxiety, the sight of a new family of ducklings frantically swimming after their proud mother made her smile. Spring was definitely in the air.

  Lauren sighed, enviously looking at the few stalwart smokers who were sitting under the patio heaters on the benches outside the pub. She would much, much, rather be drinking with them, but Sally had called and wheedled her into coming in this evening. ‘I know it’s short notice,’ Sally had said, ‘but I really can’t get anyone else tonight, and you’re always so reliable.’ For which read, I know you need the money. Which was true. Lauren always needed the money, and never felt she could turn an offer of work down. Mum couldn’t babysit, so Kezzie had stepped in, and now Lauren was hotfooting it – late – to the pub.

  ‘You’re late,’ Sally was on her case the minute she walked in the pub. Who was helping who out of a jam here?

  ‘Sorry,’ said Lauren, ‘you didn’t exactly give me much notice.’

  Sally looked as though she was about to launch into a tirade, but Troy appeared like magic from his side of the bar, and said, ‘Oh, come on, Sal, you know that’s not fair, at least Loz has turned up.’

  Loz. She liked the way he called her that. No one else ever did.

  Sal was immediately flattered by Troy’s attention; you could almost hear her purr, and within seconds she’d forgotten that she wanted to bawl Lauren out, and was being persuaded that she needed to go upstairs and put her feet up in front of the TV, which was precisely the reason Lauren had been called in at the last moment.

  ‘Thanks for that,’ said Lauren.

  ‘No worries,’ said Troy, giving her a wink. ‘I won’t have you being bullied like that.’

  Lauren forced down the little thrill that shot through her as he said that. Troy was being Troy. He was trying to get her back, and would use any means at his disposal to do so, she had to remember that.

&nbs
p; As it happened, he didn’t try anything at all for the rest of the evening. It was a fairly slow night and only three or four of the regulars were in, so Lauren and he chatted amicably behind the bar for most of the night. To her surprise, Lauren found they had a lot to talk about. They argued about the football, Lauren supported the local third division club, while Troy (naturally) supported Man U, and couldn’t work out why Lauren would be interested in a bunch of losers. They read the headlines in the tabloids left at the bar, and laughed at the shenanigans that low grade celebs were getting up to if the redtops were to be believed. And in between, Troy talked about the girls.

  ‘I just can’t get over how great they are,’ he said. ‘You’ve done a good job with them, Loz.’

  Lauren felt a little glow of pride. It wasn’t as if being a mum came with a yearly appraisal. It felt nice to get some recognition that she was getting it right.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Most of the time I feel like I’m just about coping.’

  ‘I think you do more than cope,’ said Troy. ‘In fact I think you’re rather magnificent.’

  Lauren blushed, and turned away. Why did he have to be so nice now? If only he could have felt like this four years ago.

  ‘Well, that’s easy for you to say,’ she said. ‘You come in after all the hard work’s done and think by complimenting me that makes it all right.’

  Troy had the grace to look embarrassed.

  ‘Sorry, that came out wrong,’ he said. ‘You’re absolutely right. It is easy for me to say, but I know now what a tosser I’ve been. I should never have left you in the lurch like that, and I wish I hadn’t.’

  ‘Too right you shouldn’t,’ said Lauren.

  ‘I do want to make it up to you,’ he said, ‘more than anything.’

  Lauren sighed, ‘It’s not that easy to wipe out four years of hurt, Troy. Let’s just leave it that we get to know each other again as friends, and you concentrate on being the girls’ dad. Take one step at a time, eh?’