The Summer Without You

by Karen Swan

  ‘Yeah, you can. That’s the curve ball right there. It’s not the path you thought you were going to take, but suddenly . . . you’re at the crossroads and you’ve got to choose.’

  ‘But what if I don’t want it to be like that? What if I want to do it all fresh with someone who’s learning along the way, like me? I didn’t come out here looking for this – a grieving husband, a ready-made family. It’s everything I don’t want.’

  Hump put his hand on her forearm. ‘I know, baby. But did you ever think that it might just be everything you need?’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Time was playing games with her – rushing through her hands like running water last weekend when she’d wanted it to stop, freeze into ice and become something she could hold, play with at will. Now it was dragging its feet.

  She’d had to leave the studio early, even shaking her head and pretending she was just a part-timer when a couple had come up, enquiring for her, as she’d locked up. She had no appetite for work. Or food. Even when she remembered to fix a meal, she forgot to chew, her eyes trained on the middle distance, somewhere between here and there, trying to find an answer, find the will to call.

  Now she was sitting on the porch, a beer in her hand, waiting for Hump to come back with Bobbi from the Jitney stop on Main Street – just like he had their first weekend, the day after she’d arrived, the day after she’d first met Ted.

  How much had changed since that day. How much she had changed since that day. She had survived for one thing – arriving out here, dressed in Matt’s clothes, a bewilderment clouding around her like perfume as she tried to navigate her way in this strange new world, feeling like a pilgrim, out on her own now. She’d made new friends, set up her career, established a strangely healthy lifestyle of walking on the beach, yoga and cycling (with sprinklings of kayaking, tennis and early morning swims thrown in sporadically). She had done all that, one day at a time. But she’d lost her heart on day one. It had been the very first thing she’d done here, before she’d even unpacked.

  The Humper rumbled down the road and Ro inhaled, bracing herself for the assault that always was Bobbi in the house. She smiled as the big yellow nose turned round the hedge and jiggled up the drive, amazed to see not just Bobbi in the car, but Greg too – Bobbi had bagged the front seat, of course – before remembering he was riding in the showjumping competition this weekend.

  She held up her beer bottle in greeting as they jumped out, reaching inside herself for a smile. Her housemates didn’t need to add her misery to theirs.

  ‘I am so fricking glad to hear you jumped his bones at long last!’ Bobbi greeted her back, bellowing for good measure as she ran across the small lawn and up the porch steps. ‘It took you long enough. Hump and I noticed it at the freakin’ vineyard. We had a bet goin’.’

  Ro’s jaw dropped open as Bobbi reached down and grabbed a beer from the cold box beside Ro’s chair.

  ‘You told them?’ she screeched at Hump, as he – sheepishly – followed after.

  ‘I told you to be discreet,’ Hump scowled at Bobbi, as she perched on the veranda. He looked back at Ro. ‘And I only told them so that they would know to treat you delicately. And with care.’ He glowered at Bobbi. ‘Del-i-cat-ely. She’s not been herself this week.’

  Ro pouted and Greg came over, pulling off his tie and planting a kiss on her forehead. She looked up at him in astonishment. He winked as he got a beer. ‘Lucky chap.’

  ‘“Chap”? You say “chap” now?’ Bobbi scorned, swinging her legs. ‘You really do think this is Fitzgerald’s era, don’t you?’

  Greg stared at her for a moment as he rolled his tie slowly in a ball round his fist before pocketing it. Then he walked over to her and took her face in his hands.

  Everybody stopped breathing – Bobbi, Ro, even Hump – as he stared down at her, before slowly planting a kiss squarely on Bobbi’s forehead too. ‘Don’t be so jealous. You only had to ask.’

  Ro burst out laughing, Hump too, at Greg’s new handling of Bobbi’s tantrums. Three minutes home and already they were lifting her mood.

  ‘You seem chipper,’ Ro said, watching as Greg settled himself on the veranda on the other side of the steps to Bobbi.

  ‘“Chipper”? Now there’s a word, Greg,’ Hump interjected.

  Greg smiled, seemingly enjoying their teasing. ‘Chipper is exactly how I feel.’

  ‘Care to share?’ Ro asked, sensing something coming.

  ‘I just handed in my notice.’

  ‘You did what?’ Hump spluttered, coughing up beer. ‘But you were just about to get MD!’

  ‘I’ve had enough of pedalling the corporate wheel. It’s time to get my life in order. Do like Ro’s done and make some changes.’

  ‘But . . . you’re, like, the only grown-up here! You can’t just jack it all in.’ Panic danced across Hump’s face. ‘Oh God, it’s like my father just dyed his hair blue and came downstairs in a dress.’

  ‘Greg,’ Ro protested, as distressed as Hump, ‘I am no one’s role model.’

  ‘On the contrary, you’re inspiring, Ro. Someone you loved let you down too, but you’ve built a life up from scratch this summer.’

  They thought Matt had let her down? ‘It was only ever meant to be a pause. Nothing permanent. If I’d thought that was what I was doing, I wouldn’t have left the house, much less the country,’ she said. ‘Greg, look, I know that Erin’s hurt you terribly, but our circumstances are very different. Please don’t throw your career away.’

  He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t feel like that. Not this time. It feels like freedom.’ He looked at the floor momentarily. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what happened that weekend – and how close I came to making the biggest mistake of my life.’ He looked back up at her. ‘And I never thanked you properly for what you did for me that night. I’m sorry if it frightened you.’

  ‘We just want you to be happy, Greg.’

  ‘And I’m going to be.’ He grinned at her. ‘Everything suddenly seems incredibly clear. I’ve drawn up plans for my own practice. There’s another VP who’s resigning with me and we’re setting up together.’

  ‘Plus there’s a woman, right?’ Hump added, pointing a finger at him. Greg looked at him in surprise. ‘My bro said you’d met someone. Dude!’ Hump cheered, handing him another bottle as his mobile beeped in his pocket. ‘You’re on the up again. This deserves a celebration.’

  ‘Why does it?’ Bobbi stormed, jumping off the railing in temper. ‘Why are we cheering to the high heavens that Gatsby here’s got himself another Daisy? So your girlfriend got engaged? Well, boo-fucking-hoo! My boyfriend died! Bite me, why don’t you?’

  And before anyone could utter one word, she had stomped upstairs like a grounded teenager, their collective Friday feeling suddenly as flat as week-old champagne.

  Greg went to follow, but Ro held up one hand. ‘No! Leave it to me. I’ve had enough of this.’

  She ran up the stairs two at a time, tripping over her own feet at the top and falling headlong into Bobbi’s room.

  Bobbi, who was lying on the bed, looked up in alarm at the clatter.

  Ro straightened up, pulling down her T-shirt and smoothing her hair from her eyes. ‘That’s it! I’m up to here with you sniping and bitching at Greg. It’s been going on all bloody summer and neither Hump nor I know where to look when you two are in a room together. It’s ridiculous. We don’t know what the hell’s going on with you two, and frankly, we don’t want to! It’s your problem. Just sort it out and stop making our home feel like a war zone. Don’t you think we’ve all been through enough?’

  Bobbi blinked back at her, momentarily stunned into silence. She had never heard Ro raise her voice before and she didn’t know that the rash on her neck that looked like meningitis was actually just temper. Her mouth kept opening and closing, but nothing would come out – only one tear sliding slowly down her cheek. Ro swallowed at the sight of it and sank onto the edge of the bed. Seeing Bob
bi cry was like snaring an eagle – something majestically fierce and strong and free now humbled and broken.

  ‘Oh bugger,’ she mumbled, her resolve crumbling. ‘What happened, Bobs?’ she asked quietly.

  Bobbi was silent for a long time, struggling to say the words her pride wanted to silence. ‘You know how you said with Matt you just knew?’

  Ro blinked, not wanting to hear her words – proven now to be empty and meaningless – quoted back at her like some authority on love. What did she know? What had she ever known? Greg thought she was brave and pioneering; Bobbi thought she was loyal, steadfast and all-knowing. But she was none of those things – she was as lost and uncertain as she’d ever been, the foundations of her world, her life, her self, crumbling away beneath her feet like chalk cliffs.

  ‘I got what you meant, finally, with him. He felt like the fit for me.’ Her voice was small and unnaturally quiet. If Bobbi had never heard Ro loud before, Ro had never heard Bobbi quiet. It was odd, like they were wearing each other’s clothes. She looked up at Ro. ‘I never had that.’

  ‘Does he know?’

  Bobbi shook her head quickly. ‘No. There’s nothing to . . . explain. Nothing actually happened between us. We . . .’ She swallowed hard, pride intruding again. ‘We got back here and he stopped . . . Said he was involved with someone and it was only fair to tell me, that he was trying to do the right thing.’ She raised a small smile. ‘His manners, right?’

  ‘Oh, Bobbi.’

  ‘I thought I could be grown-up about it – said we could still be friends. But I just kind of froze every time I saw him. I . . . I didn’t know how to be, how to hide it, you know? I felt like it was written all over my face the whole time, making me look like a schmuck and making him feel guilty. Because I respected him for doing the right thing.’ She was quiet for a moment. ‘Or at least, I did till she strutted into the kitchen.’

  ‘Who? Erin? You mean you knew about them?’

  ‘I knew it was her he was in love with. I just knew it. I could . . .’ She held her hands up in the air like she was compressing something. ‘I could just feel it between them. Like it was Erin’s private joke.’ She looked across at Ro, eyes flashing dangerously. ‘She always was a bitch.’

  Ro frowned. ‘You knew her before, you mean?’

  Bobbi shot her a look. ‘Penn. She was the queen of the campus. Everyone knew her.’

  ‘Well, she obviously remembered you too. She asked whether you’d met.’

  ‘Ha! If she thought I was going to give her the satisfaction of placing me . . .’ Bobbi sneered.

  ‘Why not?’

  Bobbi stared into the middle distance, a look of cold rage on her face. ‘She took my boyfriend off me. For a bet.’

  Ro gasped. ‘Oh, Bobs, you poor thing.’

  ‘Hey, he was a loser anyway. It was going Nowheresville.’ She shook her head, eyes glazed with reluctant tears. ‘But to be dumped for that bitch twice? I don’t think so – moving on!’ She sailed her arm through the air defiantly.

  ‘Except that you didn’t. Or rather, you haven’t,’ Ro said quietly. ‘You wouldn’t get this upset around him if you really had moved on.’

  ‘I will be fine,’ Bobbi said determinedly. ‘I’m all about making partner this year anyway.’

  Ro looked at her sadly.

  She remembered Bobbi’s venom the day of the tennis tournament – how desperate she’d been for Ro not just to beat Erin, but smash her. ‘Bobbi, I wish you’d at least told me. It must have been awful for you keeping this all bottled up.’

  She looked at Ro, a desperate look on her fierce face suddenly. ‘Listen, you don’t repeat a word of this, Ro. Not one word.’

  Ro shook her head. ‘Of course not. Not a word, to anyone.’

  A creak on the landing floor made them both jump. ‘Shit,’ Bobbi whispered, her eyes wide.

  Ro jumped up to look, but Bobbi pulled her back. ‘No, I’ll go.’

  She crawled off the bed and tiptoed to the door. Ro noticed the window was open and crossed the room quickly to shut it.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Bobbi demanded, flinging open the door. She peered out into the hallway. ‘Oh, it’s you. Where are you going?’

  ‘Popping out.’ Hump’s voice sounded small and distant from where Ro was standing.

  ‘What? But we’re supposed to be going out!’ Bobbi whined.

  ‘And we will. I’ll only be an hour—’

  ‘Bobbi,’ Ro said from inside the room.

  ‘Won’t be long, I promise,’ Hump replied, his voice growing ever more distant and the stairs creaking. ‘I just need to get something from the studio. Greg’s still here—’

  ‘Bobbi!’

  ‘Tch, what is it?’ Bobbi frowned, looking back in.

  Ro was standing beside her chest of drawers, holding up a necklace. ‘Who gave you this?’

  Bobbi stepped into the room, her eyes pinned on Ro’s expression. ‘Kevin did. Why? What’s the matter?’

  Ro looked down at the pearls, her thumb rubbing lightly over the gold oval clasp studded with a ruby. ‘I think this changes everything.’

  The girls ran down the stairs. Greg looked up from the swing seat, a beer in one hand, Dan’s Papers in the other.

  ‘Have you read this? There’s rumours that the people behind Wild Waters in Miami have been spotted sniffing around a development lot in Montauk. Can you imagine? A waterpark in the Hamptons?’ he scoffed. ‘Two hundred million, they’re quoting.’

  Bobbi put her hands on her hips. ‘You’re reading that upside down.’ She glared at him.

  Greg frowned as he saw she was right. ‘Oh.’

  But Ro didn’t care about upside-down newspapers. ‘Where’s Hump?’ she asked, her eyes wild.

  ‘He got a call and he’s just gone out. Why?’

  ‘Dammit, I need the car!’

  Greg stood up, taking in their intense expressions. ‘Well, he took the bike – the car’s still here. Why? What’s going on? What’s the necklace for?’ he asked, noticing the string of pearls in Ro’s hand.

  ‘Kevin gave this to Bobbi the night before he died.’

  Greg’s eyes flicked over to Bobbi, an unreadable expression in them. ‘So?’

  ‘So, I know for a fact that this same necklace was given to Florence. I was in her kitchen when she received it.’

  There was a short pause. ‘Personally, I find one pearl necklace tends to look very much like the next,’ he said diplomatically.

  ‘No, it’s the same one. I remember admiring the clasp.’ She showed him the ruby-studded oval clasp.

  Greg planted his hands on his hips. ‘So then Florence returned it.’

  ‘Yes, because it was a bribe. I saw the look on her face when she read the card with it – I thought it was odd at the time, but didn’t know why. Then she told me in the hospital that someone had been trying to force her to sell the house. They’d started off as nice bribes and then, when she didn’t bite, they changed to threats.’ She caught sight of his expression. Bobbi’s too. ‘Look, I know how this probably sounds right now. I’d be sceptical too, but she’s convinced that what happened at the Golden Pear was intended for her, not me.’

  ‘Why would anyone do that to Florence?’ Greg asked, reasonably, doubtfully.

  ‘Her drive cuts along the bottom of the plot for the neighbouring property, meaning they have neither beach frontage, access or a view. She told me it knocks five million dollars off the value of the estate at a stroke.’

  Greg’s eyes narrowed at that. ‘Go on.’

  ‘She tried telling the police, but they just thought she was a paranoid old woman. They said what happened to me was unrelated: no case. She’d done her own investigations and discovered that the house next door had been sold last Christmas to a property development company. She couldn’t find any names of the directors on the board because it’s registered offshore. That was as far as she could get. When I got hurt, she tried telling the police but they just thought she was a paranoid old
woman: that her accident was just that – a civil matter, not their problem. And that what happened to me was unrelated. No case . . .’

  ‘And because of this necklace, you think it was Kevin trying to blackmail her?’ His eyes slid again to Bobbi, who was wearing a face like thunder.

  ‘Well, after everything that’s come out in the press about him, it makes sense. People have gone on record as saying he tried to bribe them with flights, meals, designer clothes, jewellery . . .’

  ‘Actually, he never used the words “bribe” or “blackmail”,’ Bobbi said defensively. ‘We talked about it once at dinner. He told me he saw them as bonuses for the vendor. It often happens the other way round at the levels he worked at – people commonly throw in a Ferrari from the garage or a boat with a big-money lot. And the market’s been so bad – there aren’t enough sellers out there. He just thought he was approaching it creatively. He was proud of it, if anything.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘And he certainly never got heavy on anyone. He would never have threatened Florence. He may have been a bit fluid with rules and regulations, but he was a pussycat. I can tell you that for sure.’

  Ro turned to her. ‘But all the evidence points to him, Bobbi! I’m sorry, I know you were fond of him, but Florence nearly died.’

  ‘And Kevin did die,’ Bobbi retorted. ‘Did he beat himself to death with the golf club?’ Both Ro and Greg winced at the brutality in her words.

  ‘Maybe you’re both right and both wrong,’ Greg said, cutting in, and breaking their deadlock.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘From what’s been reported in the papers and what Ro’s saying about this necklace, it sounds like maybe Kevin did try to induce Florence to sell the house. But if what you’re saying is true too, then he probably wasn’t behind the other incidents. Throwing boiling coffee over someone? Cutting earth wires? Those are big escalations from a pearl necklace being returned.’

  Bobbi planted her hands on her hips, looking so fierce she could have been standing on a chariot with flames shooting out behind her. ‘So then, what are you saying?’