A Summer Fling

by Milly Johnson

  ‘Earth calling Anna, can you read me?’ said Grace.

  ‘Sorry, yes, er, what did you say?’

  ‘Do you want a coffee? It’s my turn to get them.’

  ‘Yes – yes, please. Sorry.’

  ‘What’s up with you this morning?’ asked Christie. ‘You look as if you’ve come back to us after an out-of-body experience.’

  They watched as Anna wrestled with something in her head that she obviously wasn’t sure if she should tell them or not. Then it flooded out of her.

  ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but I’m confused. A couple of weeks ago it would have been mine and Tony’s anniversary, I think I mentioned it when I blew up that day in the pub, well, not a real anniversary ’cos we aren’t married, as I said, but when I got home from work I found a plate on my doorstep. One of those with a picture on it, do you know what I mean? A photo of me and Tony and underneath it just said, Together. And last week there was a red rose on the doorstep and this week a heart-shaped box of Ferrero Rocher.’

  There was a silence as they waited for her to go on.

  ‘No, that’s it,’ said Anna. ‘Three presents over three weeks and nothing else. No phone calls, no guest appearance, nothing.’

  ‘Crikey, it’s like one of those Czechoslovakian fairy stories I used to watch on the box,’ said Christie. ‘Three Gifts for Cinderella, I think it was called.’

  ‘Aye, well, this Cinderella can’t work out what Prince Charming is up to. Am I supposed to drop my chuffing shoe outside the barber’s?’ Anna grunted.

  ‘What’s he playing at?’ asked Raychel.

  ‘You tell me. But there he was as normal as you like with her in his shop on Saturday morning when I did a sneaky drive past. Groping her arse. I can’t think what to make of it, I really can’t.’

  Dawn stopped herself from saying that she would have bagged up the presents, burst into his shop with them and told the other woman to keep his lead on. But it was easy to advise on other people’s relationships, not so easy to take that advice and apply it to your own.

  ‘And how does it make you feel? Are you upset? Angry?’ asked Christie.

  Anna made an attempt to self-analyze.

  ‘I don’t know. I suppose I felt all excited at first – full of anticipation. Now I just feel pissed off because I don’t know what’s happening.’ She didn’t say that Vladimir Darq’s tender hand on her heart had shifted something within her and made her rip off the rose-coloured specs about this so-called exciting development in her and Tony’s relationship.

  ‘It sounds to me as if he’s trying to assert his presence in your life again, just in case you had forgotten him,’ said Christie. ‘I could be wrong, but it’s very much as if he’s warming you up for his return.’

  ‘What, you mean he’s really thinking of coming back?’ said Anna. ‘And he’s not just mucking my head about?’

  ‘Be careful,’ warned Christie. ‘He’s sending you quite blatant love tokens. He’s definitely up to something.’

  ‘Would you have him back though?’ said Grace. ‘After all he’s done to you?’

  ‘You’ve come so far,’ said Dawn softly. ‘You’re a different person to the one you were when you collapsed in the toilets and were sick on Christie’s skirt. Would you really have him back?’

  ‘Would I hell,’ said Anna. But her voice had a definite waver in it.

  Strangely enough, Anna’s mobile rang at lunchtime, interrupting her thoughts about Tony and his hand on Lynette Bottom’s bottom as she absently chewed on a beef and onion sandwich in the canteen. It was Vladimir Darq. Her hands were shaking as she answered it.

  ‘Anna, my car will call for you at eight p.m. on Saturday,’ he said. ‘I have something that I want to give you – it won’t take very long.’ Then he added pointedly, ‘It isn’t a plate.’ He put the phone down before she could say a single word in answer.

  If that wasn’t enough mystery for one day, Christie was acting very oddly that afternoon as well.

  ‘Yes, I’ll make sure,’ she was saying quietly on the phone. ‘Secret squirrel.’ Then, when she saw Anna walk into the department, she switched to a bright and breezy voice. ‘Yes, absolutely, Beryl. We’ll be here,’ before slamming the phone down quickly.

  ‘Nice lunch?’ Christie asked.

  ‘Er . . . yeah . . . I suppose so,’ replied Anna.

  ‘Good, good.’ Christie’s mind appeared to be chewing on something. Anna could virtually hear her cogs turning. ‘Anna, you couldn’t do me a favour, could you? I wouldn’t ask but I’m a bit busy myself.’

  ‘Yeah, ’course, what is it?’ Anna presumed she was going to ask her to put the kettle on.

  ‘Will you call into Boots on your way home tonight and get me . . . get me a Boots magazine. I want to . . . look at their food offering. Sandwiches. You can leave an hour earlier so you don’t miss your train.’

  ‘I don’t need to leave an hour earlier—’

  ‘Yes, that’s fine. An hour earlier. I insist,’ said Christie definitely.

  ‘OK,’ said Anna, very puzzled. She accepted it, but felt that Christie wanted a Boots mag about as much as she wanted a Malcolm-type spray tan.

  Dawn had a fitting at ‘White Wedding’ at seven o’clock that evening. She put the dress on and found that it gave her no thrill to do so. And Freya was reprimanding her because it appeared Dawn had lost quite a bit of weight.

  ‘If you keep this up, this dress will slip off you down the aisle,’ said Freya, pinning some alterations. ‘You need some shape at least to carry this design off.’

  ‘Will you take a picture of me in it?’ asked Dawn. ‘My fiancé has an old auntie in a home and I promised to show her my dress. She won’t be able to come to the wedding itself.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ said Freya.

  ‘I hope she remembers me. She’s not been well the past couple of weeks apparently. I didn’t want to confuse her even more, seeing as I’ve only met her once and she might not recognize me. But I did promise to show her a picture.’

  ‘You should always keep those sorts of promises,’ said Freya. ‘My goodness, you’ve lost inches!’

  ‘Shame dresses aren’t magic, isn’t it? Shame they can’t alter themselves to your shape and choose you instead of the other way round.’

  ‘All my dresses are magic,’ said Freya. ‘I guarantee that wearing this dress will lead you to the happiest of lives.’

  ‘I wish you really could guarantee it,’ said Dawn.

  ‘Oh, I can,’ said Freya unequivocally, resting her hand on her heart and smiling a warm, strange smile. ‘I can most definitely promise a bride the happiest of wedding days when she wears one of my dresses. Especially this one.’

  Dawn so wanted to trust Freya in that. She looked at the reflection of herself in the mirror, with the dress pinned to fit her exactly. It really was beautiful and she willed that she would feel wonderful in it, swishing down the aisle. Everyone would love her in this dress and all the niggling and nit-picking of the wedding arrangements would be over and she and the Crookes would be united in happiness. Everyone would enjoy the food and the karaoke, and the horrible orange dresses were something they would laugh about one day. The most important thing was that she and Calum would be joined in holy matrimony and have a solid foundation to build their future happiness on. And Al Holly would be gone and unable to cause any more upset to her feelings. His image would fade and she would think of him as just a nice guy who once crossed her path, a pleasant memory.

  It was a little more difficult to be positive when she got home that night though, to find that Calum had moved all the chocolate favours that Dawn had so painstakingly wrapped up next to the radiator, where they had melted.

  ‘Sorry we’re late, I got held up at work,’ Raychel apologized as soon as the door opened.

  ‘No matter, just glad you could make it. Come in, come in.’

  Elizabeth Silkstone warmly greeted Raychel and Ben, pulling them into her house and t
hen escorting them out into the lovely garden at the back where John and a large, thick-set bloke with a smiley face were cooking meat on a barbecue. John instantly came over and gave Raychel a big hug.

  ‘Hello, Flower,’ he said. ‘George, Janey,’ he called to the big man and a buxom red-haired woman standing nearby. ‘This is Raychel.’

  ‘It’s so nice to meet you, love,’ said the big-bosomed Janey, bending to give Raychel a kiss on her cheek. ‘Elizabeth and I and Fatso over there have known each other since school. We were forced to do Latin together. I’m still having therapy.’

  ‘Don’t forget me,’ said a slim, pretty blonde with a pronounced bump, cutting in between Janey and George. ‘I’m Helen, or Fatso as they’ve no doubt called me. I’m the third member of the Latin triumvirate.’

  ‘She’s just got married,’ said Janey, pointing a thumb at her friend’s swollen stomach. ‘The brazen tart! Him a partner in a firm of solicitors as well. What is the world coming to?’

  ‘Come and get a drink,’ said Elizabeth, linking her arm through Raychel’s and leading her away. ‘We’re so glad you’re here.’ Ben was now standing with John and George by the barbecue. ‘I have been dying for my friends to meet you.’

  ‘Do they know?’ asked Raychel.

  ‘They know you are Bev’s daughter,’ said Elizabeth. ‘They’re so happy for me that I found you. Now, how are you settling into that lovely apartment of yours? Have you got it as you want it yet?’

  ‘No, that’ll take a while,’ said Raychel, cutting to the chase. ‘Elizabeth, I had a letter forwarded on to me this morning from our old address. From my mother.’

  ‘Do you have it with you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Raychel, foraging in her handbag.

  ‘Let’s go inside,’ said Elizabeth. The irony wasn’t lost on her that she had drawn a total blank trying to trace her sister for years and here was Bev’s letter finding Raychel relatively easily.

  In John’s office down the hallway, Raychel handed over the envelope.

  *

  ‘Dear Lorraine/Rachel,

  Have I found you? Please let me no. I’m at my wits end wandering if you are alright. I want to see you again. I do’nt want anything from you but I have something imporant I need to tell you. Can I come and see you or you can come and see me.

  Best wishes

  Your mother.’

  As old as she was now, Raychel had read the letter with a shake in her hands. It acted like a key to a door in her head which held back all those memories of her childhood: the scruffy house, the strangers buying drugs, Nathan Lunn and his cruelty and her mother, too spaced out to stop him when he went on his smashing, hitting, violent rampages. But finding Elizabeth had strengthened her. She no longer felt as if she and Ben were alone in the world. John was looking after Ben like a son and she could feel Elizabeth’s strength and love radiate out towards her. She felt safer than she had ever done in her whole life within the confines of her new family circle.

  ‘I don’t want to see her but I feel that I have to. She can tell me what she has to and then she can leave me alone. What should I do?’

  Elizabeth gripped Raychel’s hands in her own.

  ‘Would you like me to go to her?’

  ‘I can’t ask that of you.’

  ‘Yes, you can. Leave it with me.’ Elizabeth took in a deep breath as she made the decision to commit herself to this. ‘I’ll deal with it. I’ll see what she wants.’

  The time was long overdue. Elizabeth needed to see her sister. She had things of her own to sort out with her.

  Chapter 66

  At West House, things had fallen into a routine as if they had always been so. Niki was chopping up vegetables in the kitchen when Grace got home. He had opened a bottle of wine and three glasses stood waiting impatiently at the side of it.

  ‘Ah, good evening, Gracie,’ said Niki. ‘Where’s my sister?’

  ‘Christie’s nipped into town. She needs shoes.’

  ‘No, she doesn’t, she wants shoes,’ said Niki with a big, booming and infectious laugh that Grace couldn’t help smiling at. How different this house felt to her old one. Despite the age of the walls, it was young and alive with no atmosphere sliding down towards a grave. Niki had Lily Allen playing out of his iPod station. Gordon would have had, at best, some morbid radio programme on that sounded as if it was being broadcast through the war. She wondered where Gordon was and what was going through his head at this moment. Then she cut off the thought as Niki pushed a generous glass of Chablis into her hand.

  ‘Try this,’ he invited. ‘I think it’s divine, personally.’

  ‘Anything I can do to help?’ asked Grace.

  ‘Nope,’ said Niki. ‘Cooking unwinds me. And I had the patient of all nervous patients in today. Fifty-eight-year-old company director and terrified of needles like you wouldn’t imagine.’

  ‘How do you calm down someone like that?’ said Grace.

  ‘Acupuncture,’ said Niki.

  ‘No!’ said Grace.

  ‘Joke,’ replied Niki, clicking his tongue. ‘Gotcha, Grace!’ Their eyes met and locked and Grace knew that Christie hadn’t been exaggerating at all when she intimated that her brother was growing fond of her. His next words confirmed it.

  ‘I . . . we both like having you here so much,’ he said in his lovely deep bear of a voice.

  ‘Thank you, Niki. I’m so grateful to you both. I shall try not to outstay my welcome.’

  ‘You couldn’t possibly do that, Gracie,’ said Niki. Then he notched up the humour by singing a falsetto opera song about his scallops because, as his sister so rightly said, he would not want to compromise Grace as a guest, not after what she had been through recently. He knew her thoughts would be a jumble and the last thing she would want was some bachelor-dentist declaring an ever-growing batch of undeniable feelings.

  She was, however, a woman worth waiting for. And Nikita Koslov thought he might just have been waiting his whole life for her.

  Chapter 67

  ‘Can’t believe we are at the end of another week!’ said Christie, pouring the bottle of chilled Zinfandel into five glasses. ‘Anyone doing anything exciting this weekend? It only seems like two minutes since I was asking that question last Friday.’

  ‘I’m off to see Calum’s old auntie in a retirement home,’ said Dawn.

  ‘Bloody hell, I can’t compete with that much excitement,’ said Anna.

  ‘Aw, don’t be rotten,’ laughed Dawn. ‘She wants to see my dress so I had a picture taken. She’s too frail to come to the church.’

  ‘Christie and I are off to the theatre,’ said Grace.

  ‘And my brother is coming as well,’ said Christie. ‘He has rather a crush on Grace.’

  ‘Get in there, Gracie,’ said Anna, which mirrored exactly what Paul and Laura had said. It was, apparently, obvious to them also that Niki rather liked their mother. He was always fizzily cheerful around her and, though Grace had told her children that he was like that around everyone because it was his natural disposition, they didn’t believe her at all. Did she like Niki enough to say ‘yes’ if he invited her out to dinner? Paul had asked her. The thought terrified Grace, to be honest. The idea of starting a new, normal relationship, with all that it entailed, was scary stuff. Especially with a fifty-five-year-old body, although it was still in fantastic shape, thanks to years of yoga. But then Niki was fifty too. Did men feel the same insecurity about their bodies with new partners?

  ‘What are you going to do now that filming is over? Won’t you feel lost?’ Raychel asked Anna.

  ‘Well,’ Anna leaned forward to impart her information. ‘Mr Darq is sending a car for me tomorrow night. Says he’s got something for me.’

  ‘What?’ asked Dawn, her eyes lit up with excitement.

  ‘Haven’t a clue. I won’t be there long apparently, so he says.’ She sighed rather heavily at the thought of having to say a second goodbye to him.

  ‘Ooh, how exciting,’ Christie g
rinned. ‘Wonder what it could be. Can you wait?’

  Anna downplayed the thrill that tripped along her nerve-endings at the thought of seeing him again. ‘I’ll have to, won’t I?’ She had thought of his hand on her heart more times than she cared to count that past week. She’d even dreamed about him one night, wild and saturnine and threatening to eat her. Although the dream had ended before he had fulfilled his promise and she never did get to find out if he meant literally or metaphorically. She wondered if she could look him in the face after the sexual tension that her night-brain had created. Vladimir Darq. He was taking up more and more of her thought space, which concerned her. There was no point in forming an attachment with someone like him. But she was aware that was exactly what was happening.

  ‘And I’m going shopping with my aunt,’ said Raychel after taking a deep breath.

  She cut through most of the story and told them that she had been contacted by an estranged aunt who was, by fantastic coincidence, living in the area.

  ‘What an amazing story,’ said Christie. ‘I didn’t think things happened like that in real life. You must be delighted.’

  ‘It’s a long, complicated story,’ said Raychel. ‘I gave you the abridged version.’

  ‘And the happy ending,’ said Dawn. ‘So that’ll do nicely.’

  On Raychel’s face was a great big wide arc of a smile. She had so wanted to tell her work-mates some of her story: the nice parts. They had made it so easy for her to be friends with them. Accepting her without wanting to know all the ins and outs of her past life. She felt like she had a big, cosy blanket around her. She was content, despite the niggle about her mother’s reappearance in her life. But she had Elizabeth on her side and that made her feel protected in a way that not even her lovely Ben could manage.

  After the others had left, Dawn sat at the bar and watched the band.

  ‘Are you going to sing again?’ asked the barman when she gave him a drinks order. ‘You were fab.’

  ‘It was a one-off,’ said Dawn, secretly glowing.

  ‘The manager wanted to see you. Think he was on about offering you the odd singing job.’