A Summer of New Beginnings

by Lisa Hobman

  ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’

  ‘I bought you a prezzie too,’ Will said as he handed her a long, wrapped, rectangular gift.

  Once again, she ripped off the paper and pulled out the surprise. ‘Haemorrhoid cream? Seriously?’

  Will burst out laughing. ‘Well, I heard that those thin bike saddles can take a bit of recovering from so I thought I’d help.’

  She whacked him playfully on the arm. ‘Trust you.’

  ‘Here you go, darlin’, we got you something too.’ Her dad handed her a large box. She sat on the floor, removed the lid and inside, wrapped in tissue paper, were lots of NC500 branded things. Coasters, postcards, a wallet and T-shirt that said ‘I cycled the NC500’ and a beautiful framed map of the route.

  Seeing the route again made tears sting her eyes. And that strange feeling of something like homesickness bubbled up again.

  *

  Time was passing just as slowly in Zara’s absence and whilst in the past this had never been a bad thing, now it was just a sad reminder of his loneliness. He had been out tending to the sheep and then to a local pub with Tosh and the rest of the buffoons he went to school with and as always Bess had dutifully sat by his side. She’d seemed sad too since Zara had gone. The poor little collie really had adored her. He wasn’t afraid to admit to himself that he’d felt the same. He bid his friends goodnight and walked back to the croft.

  The answering machine light was flashing when he walked into the kitchen and his stomach lurched. He rarely got messages and he hoped, desperately, that it was from Zara. Just to hear her voice again…

  He hit play:

  Lachlan, darling, it’s me, Saskia. Where on earth are you at this hour of the night? Surely there can’t be much to do up there in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, it’s Mummy and Daddy’s golden wedding anniversary and there’s going to be a huge party. I haven’t told them we’ve been taking a break and I need you to come. Mummy will be inconsolable if she thinks my plans of marriage aren’t going ahead. And whilst we’re on that subject, I’ve decided we can tell everyone the engagement is on. We can discuss the details when I see you. And I’ve been thinking, you can keep the little farm. But let’s get someone in to run it so you can come home to your real job. Anyway. The party is at Mummy and Daddy’s house. On the twelfth. I’ll expect you on the eleventh and wear your tux, darling. You always look so delicious in your tux.

  He slumped onto the chair at the table that Zara had favoured. Great. Saskia. That’s all I bloody need. How the hell do I get out of that?

  He checked his phone and realised it was far too late to call her back, so he’d try and think of an excuse and ring her when he was sober. Bess climbed onto her bed and Lachy poured some stale coffee from the jug that had been left warming. He wondered what Zara was doing now. He’d hoped she would at least text him to say she had arrived home safe, but she hadn’t. He’d toyed with the idea of contacting the bike shop, but decided it would be too weird to explain the reasons for his call.

  He thought about her passion for writing and the range of emotions she had evoked from him when he had read her book. He wondered if she had dared to submit it to any literary agents yet. He could have offered help on that score, but knew she was too damned stubborn and in denial about her talent to accept it. So, of course, he had refrained.

  He sighed and glanced over at Bess where she lay, head resting on her paws. ‘Well, we’re a gleeful pair, eh, lass? I’m guessing you miss her as much as I do. Why didn’t we make an actual date to see her again? Why didn’t we at least just ask her, eh? I knew that sleeping with her would be a bloody mistake. I knew I was bloody falling from the moment she yelled at me outside her tent.’

  Bess walked over and sat before him. She nudged his hand with her head and he ran his fingers through her fur. ‘And now I’ve got to go and play happy families with Cruella de Vil. Lucky me, eh?’ He crouched down to make eye contact with his canine companion. ‘Now, I know you don’t like her. I remember you peeing on her designer shoes when she came to visit. But I promise you, I’ll go to the party as a favour to an old friend and, after it’s done, I’ll tell her in no uncertain terms that I’m not getting back together with her. We were over a long time ago and I just don’t love her. I don’t think I ever did. And more to the point I don’t think she ever loved me either. But I’ll do this one last favour for her. And then that’s it. You have my word, Bess.’

  As if she understood completely, the dog licked his chin and gave him her paw.

  *

  Three weeks passed and life was almost back to normal for Zara. She had been spending more and more time with Josh and he’d been doing his best to make amends for his transgressions. There had been meals to fancy restaurants, nights out at the theatre and he’d cooked for her at her place, seeing as she refused to set foot in his again. He had even hinted at the idea they could move in together somewhere totally new. She was still thinking things through, but he was wearing her down. The only thing they hadn’t done was sleep together. That prospect was taking a little more getting used to.

  Although, Zara still couldn’t dismiss the feeling that something was missing from her life. David Bowie’s lyrics had taken up residence in her mind and the keyring that Lachy bought seemed to catch her eye often. Her next assignment was arranged and soon she would be leaving for the Maldives to check out more high-class honeymoon locations. The thought didn’t grab her with eager enthusiasm as it would have once done, but she was looking forward to the distraction nonetheless.

  Marco had been seeing a lot of Toby and had announced at the pub the night before that they had agreed to be exclusive. It was good to see him happy with someone who epitomised a decent human being for once. Some of his former lovers had left a lot to be desired in that area. He had been messed about so much, leaving him with trust issues that had manifested in many one-night stands. She hoped this meant that things had changed for him.

  London was still manic by its very nature but, instead of the fact exciting her as it always had in the past, she longed for the fresh air and open spaces of the Highlands. She had looked into hiring a motor home and travelling the North Coast 500 route again, but this time doing it in more luxurious accommodation. Her bid to get Noah to agree to her writing about the route from the opposite perspective to the original piece had fallen on deaf ears. Noah insisted he would never send her to Scotland again. It was his promise, much to her dismay.

  Lachy haunted her dreams and her thoughts. What was he doing? How was Bess? Why hadn’t he been in touch? It took her a while to realise that she had never actually given him her contact details. She’d lost his business card and all he had was the name of the magazine she was employed by, and he didn’t seem the type to just turn up there. But a letter would have been nice. She had hoped, stupidly, that he missed her and might want to at least be friends.

  The coming weekend had given her something to focus on. Her friends had rented a large seafront house at Ramsgate and they were leaving Friday morning and returning Monday evening. A long weekend and some fresh, sea air were just what the doctor ordered. The only downside was the fact that she was the only one not taking a significant other. Josh had been keen to go along but Zara wasn’t quite ready to take that next step yet. The bags were packed, Marco and Toby had loaded Jake’s car – it was the biggest – and Shelley was sitting on Zara’s bed waiting for her to finish applying her make-up.

  ‘Zara! Post!’ Marco shouted from the hallway. ‘Looks important.’ He walked into the room and handed over the envelope. The return address was one in Inverness and her heart skipped a beat as she ripped it open.

  ‘What is it? Is it from Farmer Hot Kilt?’ Shelley asked with a lascivious grin.

  ‘Give her a bloody chance, Shells,’ Marco insisted, but then continued with, ‘Is it though?’

  Confusion washed over Zara as she read the words on the page. Nothing was sinking in. It must be a mistake. It couldn’t be real.

  ‘
Zee, you’ve gone ever so pale. What’s wrong?’ Shelley asked, her voice filled with concern as she moved towards the edge of the bed.

  ‘I… erm… It’s…’ She shook her head as she handed the letter to Shelley.

  Shelley cleared her throat. ‘“Dear Miss Bailey, we are delighted to inform you that your novel New Beginnings has been shortlisted in the Best Unpublished Newcomer category of the Original Fiction Association Literature Awards. This year the awards are to be hosted in Inverness. As you may already be aware, the first prize in this category is a four-book publishing deal and a twenty-thousand-pounds advance. The awards ceremony will be held at the Kingsman Hotel and Conference Centre, Inverness; further details are noted on the enclosed invite, and we look forward to seeing you there. Please confirm your attendance and guests to my secretary at the above address. Yours sincerely, Dominic McAllen. Chairman.”’ Shelley’s voice became exponentially louder and higher pitched as she read.

  ‘Fucking hell, Zee! You’re going to be a famous author!’ Marco and Shelley jumped round the room squealing as Toby and Jake looked on in bemusement.

  Zara still couldn’t understand it. How had this happened?

  ‘I didn’t realise you’d actually sent your book off anywhere! You bloody dark horse,’ Shelley said as she hugged Zara tightly. ‘I’m so proud of you. Still pissed off that you wouldn’t let me read it. But so proud!’

  ‘But… guys, I didn’t send it off anywhere. I wrote a submission letter to accompany it but that was as far as I got. I hadn’t even compiled a list of who I’d send it to, never mind being so presumptuous as to submit it to a competition!’ She held her arms out and let them flop to her sides. ‘How the hell has this happened?’ She narrowed her gaze and pointed a finger back and forth between her two best friends. ‘Did you—?’

  ‘God, no!’

  ‘Absolutely bloody not!’

  They spoke in unison and wore an almost identical, incredulous expression.

  Shelley looked to Marco and then back to Zara. ‘I for one wouldn’t invade your privacy that way, Zara. And I’m sure Marco’s the same.’

  Marco nodded emphatically. ‘Absolutely. And anyway, I wouldn’t want to send it off before reading it in case it’s crap.’ The whole room seemed to gasp simultaneously and Marco waved his hand dismissively. ‘I don’t mean it is crap, for fuck’s sake. I simply mean that I love you too much to set you up for a fall like that.’ He rested his balled fist on his hip. ‘And whilst we’re on the subject, I’m still mad at you for letting Hunky McKilt Pants read the damned thing before me.’

  Shelley’s eyes widened. ‘Oooh! That’s it! It’s him. It’s Kilty McSporran! He read it without your permission once – who’s to say he wouldn’t send it off without your permission too?’

  Zara yelled, ‘Would you two please stop with the offensive, stereotypical nicknames? After what we all went through at school, I honestly thought you’d both know better. And no, I don’t think Lachy would do such a thing. Not after the reaction I had the first time he read the bloody book.’

  The room fell silent and the group stood there, tilted heads and knowing looks on their faces.

  ‘Wait, you all think it was Lachy? Seriously?’

  Marco shrugged. ‘Well, you did sleep with him very quickly so maybe he thought you’d moved to the next level?’

  Zara scoffed. ‘What the hell are you going on about, Marco? Is there an “I’ve shagged you so now I can send your manuscript off to competitions willy-nilly without your knowledge” level? Eh?’

  Marco folded his arms across his chest sulkily. ‘I was just saying.’

  ‘The thing is, Zee, how well did you know him really?’ Shelley asked softly.

  Images of a naked, delicious Lachy gazing at her from his side of the bed sprang to her frontal lobe and she almost lost herself for a moment. Realising she hadn’t answered her friend’s question, she shook her head to try and eradicate the memories. ‘I think I knew him well enough to not suspect him of doing this behind my back.’

  Marco gasped and everyone turned to face him, waiting for the next gem of wisdom to fall from his lips. ‘Did Josh know about the book?’

  Zara thought back to one of their post-coital conversations. ‘Yes. I mean, we talked about our hopes and dreams and stuff like that after he’d found my pink memory stick on my keyring. He asked what it was and I told him it was my book. And before you ask, no, I didn’t let him read it. I just said that one day I dreamed of sitting somewhere with a lovely view and being free to be a fiction writer.’ The group shared those knowing looks again and Zara shrugged. ‘But why would he do it?’ A light bulb flicked on in her mind. ‘Unless…’

  ‘Unless what?’ Shelley asked.

  ‘He’s been doing everything in his power to make me take him back properly. He’s been so sweet and thoughtful. Maybe this is his way of helping me get my dream come true?’ She placed her hand over her heart as she realised it was actually a wonderful thing he’d done.

  Marco scoffed. ‘Well, I wouldn’t bloody put it past him personally. Look what he did in Scotland with the posh hotel. And he could’ve copied the memory stick without you realising when he called round to see you or something. I mean, it’s always with you and you said yourself that he’d noticed it.’

  The more she thought about it, the more confused Zara became. ‘I think I’ll message him. I think it’s very kind but it’s not good enough for things like that. I’ll have to withdraw it.’

  Marco snatched the letter from Shelley’s grasp and waved it in Zara’s face. ‘Not good enough? Look what’s happened. You’ve been shortlisted in the Original Fiction Association Lit Awards, Zee. It’s only one of the most prestigious awards in the UK for writers. It’s obviously a bloody good book so don’t be ridiculous. You can’t withdraw it now. He may have just done you a huge favour.’

  Marco was right, but Zara was too mixed up to admit it. She huffed like a sulky teenager and walked out of the room to retrieve her phone from its charging point in the lounge. At the very least she had to know who had done it.

  32

  Zara stared at her phone as if doing so would bring forth answers. When it didn’t, she fired off a text to Josh.

  Hi Josh. Quick question. And please be honest. Did you happen to steal my novel and submit it to a competition on my behalf?

  No reply came immediately as she had hoped it would, but she had been quite terse in her message so perhaps he thought she was angry with him. She sent a follow-on message.

  Just so you know, I’m not angry. I’m just a bit shocked. If it was you then thank you. That was a really sweet thing to do. I can’t believe it’s been shortlisted. I’ll speak to you when I get home from Ramsgate. Maybe we could celebrate?

  When they arrived at Ramsgate the sun was shining and there was only a light smattering of fluffy cloud overhead. There was a distinct chill to the air, however, that floated on the sea breeze and caused Zara to shiver. Summer would soon be over and she would be back to winter coats and knee boots. But today at least she had braved her summer attire and was planning on making the most of the beautiful day regardless of the slightly lower temperature.

  The house was beautiful. Situated in the middle of a Georgian terrace, it had spectacular sea views and was within walking distance of everything the friends would need to make this a weekend to remember. Each bedroom had a king-sized bed and Zara joked that, unlike the others and their partners, she would be able to sleep diagonally across hers.

  The décor in each room was light and fresh and the kitchen was kitted out with every gadget imaginable. Marco insisted on making use of one such piece of equipment – fresh Italian coffee for everyone – and of course he received no arguments.

  As the group of friends sat in the small terraced garden enjoying their coffee Zara’s phone pinged.

  Hi Zara. I can’t believe you guessed so easily. It was supposed to be a secret. I’m so excited that you were shortlisted but I had no doubt in my mind. May
be now you’ll see how much I really love you and that all I want is your happiness. I’d be honoured to escort you to the awards ceremony if you’ll have me. Much love J xx

  Zara smiled as she read the words over again. He really meant it when he said he’d do anything to win her back. Maybe she had been too hard on him. Maybe she could at least try to start trusting him again. And maybe even open her heart to him again. He hadn’t mentioned Katie, or Caleb for that matter, and she knew he was trying hard to leave them out of any conversation that took place between them. She didn’t want him to be unable to speak about his son and she’d need to let him know that. She resolved to contact him and maybe even go to his flat when she returned from the weekend away.

  The friends spent a lovely afternoon walking on the beach and playing in the amusement arcades. It turned out Jake was a bit of a whizz on the penny falls and he bought them all ice cream with his winnings.

  ‘The look on the cashier’s face when you handed over that bucket of coins.’

  ‘I know! If looks could kill, eh?’

  As they walked along Shelley linked arms with Zara. ‘It was Josh, then?’

  Zara laughed. ‘How’d you figure that out?’

  Shelley smiled. ‘I’ve known you for a long time, remember, and I know if it had been Lachy you’d be excited at the prospect of seeing him again. Your silence tells me Josh is on a mission and for some reason you’re wondering if you should let him win you back.’

  Zara sighed heavily. ‘I see you and Jake together and now Marco and Toby and I want that for me. Am I crazy, Shells? Am I utterly loopy for wanting the possibility of happiness with someone?’

  ‘Absolutely not. It’s all that most people want. But you have to ask yourself if you’d be settling for second best. I know deep down you think Josh is still pining for Katie, so you need to be sure that he’s 100 per cent sure too. Otherwise you’ll be back to square one again. And even more heartbroken this time because you’ll have let your guard down.’