One Secret Summer

by Lesley Lokko

  ‘Nice flat,’ she said as soon as she entered the living room. ‘Not quite what I expected.’

  ‘What did you expect?’ he asked, taking her coat. It came to him suddenly that he very much wanted to know what she thought.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know … something a bit more traditional. You know. Chintz.’

  ‘Chintz?’ He smiled faintly. ‘Me?’

  ‘Mmm.’ She touched the leather chair. ‘Flowers. That sort of stuff. Who’re these?’ She’d picked up one of the framed pictures from the mantelpiece. ‘I recognise your mum … is that the rest of your family?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s Rafe. And that’s Harvey. My dad.’

  ‘And who’s that?’ She pointed with her finger.

  ‘Josh.’ He hoped his voice was normal.

  ‘Who’s Josh?’

  ‘My brother. My younger brother.’

  ‘That’s your brother?’ She couldn’t keep the note of surprise from her voice. ‘You don’t look anything alike. The two of you look just like your dad. But he looks so different.’

  ‘He’s overseas most of the time.’ Aaron took the picture from her. ‘Anyway, enough about my family. D’you want something to drink?’

  She shook her head. ‘I think I’ve probably had quite enough, thank you,’ she said with a slow smile. ‘Two glasses of wine … that’s a lot for me, you know.’

  ‘I thought you northern types could hold your liquor,’ he said, and then held his breath to see how she took the quip.

  She smiled – again, that slow, sexy smile that made his heart beat faster. ‘Not this one,’ she murmured. They looked at each other. Then, just as it had been the last time he’d kissed her, he wasn’t sure who made the first move. Her mouth was soft and wonderfully warm. The feeling that this was only the beginning of something he’d waited for washed over him slowly. He felt his hands move of their own accord to the opening in the silk blouse she was wearing; he slid his hand, palm down, across the firm, tight flesh and felt her body tremble. He was taken aback by his own boldness – Julia Burrows wasn’t the type to be rushed; he’d known that from the moment he first laid eyes on her, even if he hadn’t understood it. But she was just as hungry. He could tell by the way her body arched towards him and by the willingness with which she allowed him into her mouth. The contrast between the cool aloofness of the woman he’d known for the past five years and the heat he seemed to generate in her now, in his arms, was enough to make him lose his head. ‘Julia,’ he whispered, his words lost in her hair. ‘I don’t mean to—’

  But whatever it was he was going on to say was silenced by the touch of her hands on him, on his belt, sliding his trousers down over his hips, the way she turned him around until he was sitting on the armchair she’d teased him about. He couldn’t think of a single thing other than the explosive longing to feel himself inside her. And then, of course, he couldn’t think about anything at all.

  56

  DIANA

  London, June 1997

  Diana stared at Aaron as if she couldn’t quite grasp what he was saying. He wanted to bring someone. A woman. To Mougins. With the family on their annual holiday. ‘What woman?’ she asked faintly.

  He had the grace to blush. ‘Her name’s Julia, Mother. I … she works with me.’

  ‘She’s a lawyer?’ Relief flowed over her.

  ‘A barrister. Well, she’s just about to finish her second six.’

  ‘And how long have you … known each other?’ she asked, as delicately as she could. She felt like slapping him. What the hell was wrong with her sons? Why was she always the last to know, presented with these … these women … as if they were unalterable facts. Fait accomplis.

  ‘A while. Actually, she was at Balliol with me.’

  ‘At Balliol? And you’ve never mentioned her before?’

  He blushed further. ‘Well, it’s not quite like that. We … we didn’t particularly get on. In fact, we sort of hated each other.’

  ‘Oh. I see. Well, I suppose so. Rafe’ll be there … with Maddy.’ She tried not to let the disappointment show in her voice. In a way, she was forced to admit to herself, it was a bit of a relief. She’d been wondering what on earth she would do with Rafe’s wife by her side for all of two weeks. Now at least there might be someone whose company she could at least tolerate, if not enjoy. A barrister. Better than an actress. A failed actress.

  ‘You sure?’ Aaron was apologetic.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. Of course.’ Diana was gracious. ‘I’m sure she’ll enjoy it.’ She watched as Aaron’s face broke into a smile of relief. She suppressed the repeated urge to smack him. She hated surprises of that sort. First Rafe with his bombshell news of an impending marriage, now Aaron. What was the girl’s name? Julia. Julia Burroughs? She wondered what she was like, which school she’d been to. At least she was Oxford-educated. That was a good sign, of the sort she liked. God, whatever next? She felt a sudden flicker of nervousness. Only Josh was left … and God only knew what he’d surprise her with. ‘Well, you’d better bring her to lunch next week. We might as well get to meet her before we spend a fortnight together. Bring her on Sunday. She can meet Rafe as well.’

  ‘And Maddy,’ Aaron added quickly.

  ‘Yes,’ Diana said drily. ‘And Maddy.’

  ‘Mougins? Where the hell’s that?’ Julia asked him the following night.

  ‘In France. South of France. We’ve got a home down there … it’s lovely. You’d really enjoy it,’ he said, echoing Diana.

  ‘For two weeks? With you and your family?’ Julia asked faintly.

  ‘We wouldn’t have to be with them all the time. It’s huge … it’s an old farmhouse. We’ve had it since I was born. We usually go down two or three times a year.’

  Julia was silent. She and Aaron had been together – that old, tired euphemism – for nearly two months and every day there were things about him that surprised her. Like the invitation to join his family on holiday. Two weeks in the sun in the south of France. She’d never been anywhere on holiday before. ‘It’s very kind of them,’ she began hesitantly. ‘But I’ve never met them. Won’t they think it a bit odd—’

  ‘You’re invited to lunch next Sunday,’ Aaron interrupted her. ‘It was Diana’s idea, not mine,’ he added hastily. ‘She’d like to meet you.’

  ‘Me?’ Julia’s mouth dropped open. Diana Pryce wanted to meet her? She swallowed nervously. ‘That’d be lovely,’ she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. Her mind was already racing ahead. Sunday lunch at Diana’s. What on earth would she wear?

  57

  Aaron’s family home in north London was lovely in the way only old money can ever be, Julia noticed, as soon as they stopped outside the house. Tall, elegant, freshly painted but not garishly so; beautiful wooden sash windows, flower boxes and a neat, well-kept front lawn. There were stone-flagged steps leading down to a basement window and a tasteful arrangement of a rockery, a few cacti and flowering shrubs to lead and please the eye. The front door was stylishly black; a heavy, well-polished brass knocker … Julia took in the details with a sinking heart. It was light years away from the home in which she’d grown up. She held on to Aaron’s hand as he led her up the steps. He opened the front door with his own key and they stepped inside. The house was cool and fragrant with the scent of cooking.

  ‘Mother?’ he called down the stairwell. There was no answer, but the sound of classical music floated up the stairs. He turned to Julia. ‘We’ll go downstairs. They’re probably in the garden.’

  The kitchen was as large as the entire ground floor of the Elswick house she’d called home. Stainless-steel worktops, a cool palette of colours and textures; paintings, African masks, a long row of cookery books and on the table, several bottles of opened red wine. She gulped. She looked down at her dress. Laura Ashley – clearly the wrong choice.

  ‘Aaron!’ Someone was coming towards them. Julia squinted through the sliding glass door. She’d taken off her glasses. The figure emerged into clarity.
It was Diana Pryce. ‘Darling, you’re here. At last.’ She came into the kitchen, holding her arms out to her son. She lifted her face to be kissed.

  ‘Yes, sorry we’re a bit late.’

  ‘My fault,’ Julia said quickly. ‘I was late getting to his.’

  Diana looked at her, her eyes widening a fraction at the sound of her voice. Julia recognised the look straight away. Good God, she seemed to be saying, what have we here? She held out a hand. Julia took it. A limp, brief handshake, a wan smile and a quick sweep up and down the length of her, assessing her clothes, hair, shoes … Julia’s fate was sealed. A working-class girl. Oh, dear.

  ‘Come and meet Rafe,’ Aaron said, putting a hand on hers. ‘Is Dad here?’

  ‘He’s upstairs. He went to get a record … something he wanted Maddy to hear.’ Diana turned and led the way. She hadn’t said a word to Julia. There was a couple sitting in the shade of the leafy oak tree. The woman, a slender redhead, was all smiles. The man looked up. Julia’s eyes widened. He and Aaron were so alike it was uncanny. It was like looking into Aaron’s face, but with a few details either missing or altered very, very slightly. A mole above the left corner of his lip; blue eyes a shade darker than Aaron’s; his hair was shorter, messier. Julia hung back as the brothers embraced but the woman turned her head expectantly towards her and got up. Julia didn’t know whether to offer her cheek or her hand. The redhead solved the problem.

  ‘It’s so great to meet you,’ she exclaimed, jumping up and kissing Julia on both cheeks. ‘I’ve heard so much about you!’

  Julia recoiled immediately. She knew Aaron hadn’t said a thing about her to anyone, least of all this loud red-headed American with a smile that showed far too many teeth. She felt Aaron’s hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards his brother. Rafe’s welcome was more guarded.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, extending a hand. ‘I’m Rafe. Nice to meet you.’

  ‘Same here,’ Julia said faintly.

  ‘Here, have a seat … I’ll get another one.’ Rafe offered her his own. She sat down carefully, tucking her bare legs underneath her. In her floral summer dress and plimsolls she felt childish and overdressed. Diana was wearing white linen pants and a light blue kaftan. Simple, understated elegance of the sort Julia desired but never quite managed. Even Rafe’s wife looked interesting – large gold hoop earrings and a long, swirling gypsy skirt. Julia accepted a drink from Aaron and concentrated on finishing it in silence, nodding politely whenever something was said.

  Lunch was served inside. The food was delicious – bouillabaisse, Diana said in a clearly perfect French accent. In honour of their upcoming holiday. Julia sat next to Aaron, answering questions when they were directed at her. She liked Harvey, his father, immediately. He had an old-fashioned charm, a way of talking to you that put you straight away at ease. His questions were thoughtful and to her surprise, she found herself volunteering more information than she normally would. He asked about her family, her parents … were they still in Newcastle? She felt Aaron stiffen beside her but she was able to answer, quite naturally, ‘No, they’re both dead. Car accident.’

  ‘Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry to hear that. Not recently, I hope?’ Harvey’s kind blue eyes were on her.

  She shook her head. ‘No, it happened when I was fifteen.’

  Maddy piped up suddenly. ‘Your parents died ? Both of them? Oh my God!’ She stared at Julia. Julia flinched as if she’d been slapped. It’s my loss, not yours, she wanted to snap at her. She nodded coolly but it did nothing to stop Maddy’s gushing enquiries. ‘But how did you cope? I mean, how old were you? Fifteen? You poor thing. That is just the worst thing ever.’

  Julia was speechless. She set her wine glass carefully to one side and hurriedly excused herself from the table. Her eyes were full of tears – but of rage, not sadness. How dare she? What had happened to her parents wasn’t the plot of a play. It was life – her life! Not Maddy’s, to be appropriated in some over-the-top performance. It took her fifteen minutes alone in the toilet to calm down. When she returned to the table, Maddy was subdued. Clearly she’d understood the message: a step too far.

  Three hours later, the ordeal was over. Julia and Aaron walked up Northumberland Park Road together, hand in hand. It was a beautiful afternoon but Julia wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the sunlight. Her mind kept drifting back to the lunch. She didn’t care for Maddy. Not in the slightest. There was something about her that set Julia’s teeth on edge. She tried too hard. She was too eager, too desperate to please. She laughed at jokes that weren’t funny and empathised to the point of absurdity. But at least she’d had the sense to shut up after her silly little outburst over Julia’s parents. Julia wasn’t sure she could have taken much more. As for Diana … well, she wasn’t what Julia had expected. Not at all. She was ice-cold, controlled and controlling. She sat at the head of the table, her boys ranged alongside her, claiming them all. The two women present were a minor and irritating distraction. Julia knew the type; Diana was a man’s woman. The sort of woman who loved her sons and viewed their wives and girlfriends as nothing more than silly threats. She shivered suddenly, despite the warmth of the afternoon. No, Diana Pryce wasn’t at all what she’d expected, but now that they’d met, she was somehow not surprised. She could sense Diana’s presence in both Aaron and Rafe. There was a softness in them that was also a weakness – the effort, no doubt, of living up to her and her exacting, painful demands.

  As if on cue, Aaron turned to her suddenly. ‘What did you think of Diana?’ he asked, and the anxiety was back in his voice.

  ‘She’s … she’s lovely,’ Julia lied. ‘Quite formidable. I … I’m not sure she liked me much,’ she said after a moment.

  ‘Oh, she’ll warm up,’ Aaron said happily, relieved. ‘It takes her a while, you’ll see.’

  Me too, Julia wanted to say, but didn’t. For the moment, she was happy her answer had pleased him. She began to think about what to take to Mougins. In spite of her reservations about both Diana and Maddy, she was excited. In fact, she couldn’t bloody wait. A two-week holiday in the south of France! ‘I’ve never been abroad before,’ she’d said to Diana over lunch.

  Diana raised a perfect brow – just the one. ‘Never?’

  Julia shook her head. ‘Nope. Not unless you count Scotland. And we drove.’

  ‘You’ve never been in an aeroplane?’ Aaron couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice.

  Julia shook her head again, but before she could answer, Maddy leapt in. ‘Me neither,’ she said cheerfully. ‘The first time I came to London, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep … I remember every minute of that plane ride, I promise you!’

  Julia risked a quick glance at Diana’s face. Not one but two women in her house who were so clearly unsuitable it was laughable. Diana murmured something inaudible and the moment passed.

  And now Diana would be forced to spend a fortnight with them. Two women who’d never been abroad, never been to private schools, never had horse-riding lessons and couldn’t play the piano; doubtless neither of them could swim, pick a fine wine or say bouillabaisse in a way that wouldn’t make you wince. Despite it all, Julia had to smile. It just went to show … clearly Diana had spent a lifetime controlling everything around her. She’d planned it all, right down to the last detail. The right schools, the right homes, the right jobs … and then, at the eleventh hour, just when everything should have come together, both her boys had turned around and done something else. An out-of-work American actress and a girl from Up North. You had to laugh.

  I’ve done it again, thought Maddy to herself miserably as the door closed behind Aaron and his girlfriend. Over-the-top. Too loud, too friendly, too American. She’d sensed Julia’s withdrawal as soon as she opened her mouth. Would she never get the balance right? With Diana she was too reserved, too uptight, too sharp. With Julia she’d been too friendly, too effusive. She was no match for Diana’s cool, offhand charm and she was convinced Harvey thought her dull. Even Aaron ap
peared to have forgotten her as soon as he turned away. She seemed unable to hold anyone’s attention – ironic, given the fact that she was an actress. She’d studied Julia as discreetly as she could. Glossy dark shoulder-length hair; straight thick eyebrows, pale, flawless skin. She was attractive – even beautiful – but in a rather prickly, defensive sort of way. Her accent was very different to Rafe’s and Aaron’s – broader and flatter, and harder for Maddy to understand. She said very little; occasionally her eyes settled upon Maddy. What in heaven’s name is Rafe doing with someone like you? she seemed to be asking. Maddy had none of the poise and sophistication that the English women she’d met seemed to have. Julia’s flowered frock and white plimsolls seemed to Maddy to be the epitome of European chic. Her own full, gathered skirt in a patchwork of contrasting patterns, her peasant-style blouse with its frilled, embroidered neckline and her gold hoop earrings suddenly seemed cheap and silly. She slid a little further down in her seat. She found herself in awe of Julia, even though she’d barely opened her mouth. She was also a barrister … she’d been to Oxford, of course – a younger, even more reserved version of Diana, in other words. She would fit in perfectly, thought Maddy enviously, whereas she simply never would. Never.