The Summer We Loved

by Wendy Lou Jones

  By late morning, the train driver was announcing the approach to Oxenholme and she packed her things back into her bag and alighted onto the platform. Home. Jenny braced herself. In - photo shoot - visit the grave - back on the train again. That was the plan. Her memories fell back to the rows they had had before she’d left that still stung sharply. Focus, she thought. She was there to see Clara and Lizzy. As for the rest? She would smile for the camera and take each breath as it came.

  It didn’t take long to find a cabby and she was soon winding through the countryside back to where she used to live. Her nerves were rising, even though she tried to ignore them. She had barely spoken to her parents since the day she left. What do you say after 14 years?

  The stile at the bottom of the garden and then the horse chestnut came into view. It would soon be laden with conkers, ready to split open on the ground and be treasured. Then there it was, the house she had called home for 17 years. It looked exactly the same as when she had left it. The front door in the middle of an L-shaped house, with a porch and a pillar and giant sash windows. The trees in the garden were bigger now and, actually, now she looked closer, the front door was a different colour too; red, where it used to be green.

  She opened the window and leant out at the sun. It smelled… fresh. A floral scent she recognised from her childhood brought back happier times as she pulled back a memory from the early years.

  A minute later, the taxi stopped and Jenny got out. A dog bounded up to her, barking. She had totally forgotten the puppy they had bought six months before she’d left. He was an old dog now and he didn’t know her. A man appeared, calling the dog to heel. “Charlie. Here boy.” Obediently, the dog walked away and then there he was.

  “Jennifer?”

  “Dad?” My God, he was old. She hadn’t even considered that. He had to be almost 60 by now. The sudden panic inside her made her want to run. She was disturbed by the emotion in his eyes, but she held strong and, paying the cabbie for her fare, she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and walked across the gravel driveway to meet him.

  Tears were in his eyes by the time she got there and holding out his arms to hug her, she went to him and he gave her a force of embrace she had never expected. It was as though he never wanted to let go again. Hesitantly she hugged him. A call from within the house pulled him up and he answered it. “It’s Jennifer. She’s here,” and within seconds, her mother was there in the doorway too. Her look was more uncertain, but the same tears shone in her eyes.

  “Jenny? My little Jenny? You came home,” and she seemed overwhelmed with emotion. Jenny had not in a million years expected such a welcome as this. She had thought it would be awkward, cold and unsettling, but all everyone seemed to want to do now was cry.

  “Hello, Mum.” For a moment, she forgot to be angry, she forgot all the bitterness and pain and before she knew it, they were all in a huddle, and her parents were crying, and Jenny couldn’t help but notice their pain.

  The photographer pulled up and the three of them parted as Charlie went nosing around somebody new, barking at the car and wagging his tail excitedly.

  Her mother took Jenny off indoors and showed her where to put her things while the two men talked. They walked into the living room, where the photos were going to be taken, and fresh furniture stood in place of what had once been. The walls were a different colour and almost everything in there was new, new to her at least. This wasn’t her home. She felt awkward again. She was a stranger here.

  A woman walked in carrying a tray of tea and sandwiches.

  “In the dining room, I think, thank you, Susie,” her mother told her.

  Jenny glanced around. “What happened to Mabel?”

  Pity showed on her mother’s face. “Mabel died, darling.” Her voice had gentled to break the news. “She retired a few years after… She passed away about six years ago now.”

  Life had moved on. Jenny had never thought about this place existing without her in it. In her mind, everything had stopped, suspended in time, just waiting for her spell of forgiveness, which would never come. But they had lived, lived and breathed and worked each day as the one before. Feelings of resentment stirred within her, confusing her emotions. Had she really mattered that much to them after all?

  Stoically she lifted her chin. Her dad walked in and introduced the journalist and photographer, who had both arrived by now. “Where’s Lizzy?” she asked and her mother told her she was in the study, working. “Can I see her?”

  Her mother’s brow twitched. “She’ll join us in a minute. Let her finish what she’s doing.”

  They adjourned to the dining room for a light lunch and she noticed numerous photos and accolades, won by her sister, pinned up along the walls. All of Lizzy, none of her. She tightened up her defences. Had they wiped the place clean of her? Her mind was working overtime. Had she not done the same to them?

  Jenny thought it odd that her sister wasn’t joining them. Surely she had to eat at some point, but as the time was ticking on, they soon broke away to freshen up for the shoot and reconvened in the living room shortly after.

  And then she walked in. A woman so aloof and sophisticated, Jenny felt quite plain. She glanced at Jenny without expression and then smiled at her parents. “Where would you like me?”

  Was this really Lizzy? Her Lizzy? When had she got so cold? What had she ever done to her? Jenny was quite at a loss. Lizzy had been the only one she had wanted to see and she wasn’t even giving her the time of day. She didn’t understand it. Did she not know it was her? What was wrong with them all? Everything was so topsy-turvy.

  She tried her best to smile for the camera, but her heart wasn’t in it now. Her mind was going in circles, trying to make sense of the day. Finally Charlie was let in and he trotted around to sit next to Lizzy. He looked up at her and she fondled his ears affectionately. Not so frosty then, just cold towards her.

  Jenny wanted to talk to Pete. She wanted to run away up to the end of the garden and ring him in private and make him explain to her what was going on. But he would be in work now. She was on her own.

  When the photos were finished, the journalist took her dad off to interview him, leaving the rest of the family to themselves. The photographer started to pack away and put the room back how he had found it and Lizzy made a move to leave.

  “Lizzy. You’ve grown,” Jenny said in a panic. What a dumb thing to say, but at that moment she could think of nothing else. Lizzy turned around. There was something cold in her eyes and Jenny felt their sharp gaze cut into her. And then she turned her back again and walked out. Jenny turned to her mum. “What did I do?”

  “Don’t worry, love, she’ll come round. It’s a shock, that’s all. Give her some time.”

  “A shock?”

  “Seeing you again.”

  “I know it’s strange, it is for me too, but there’s no need to be rude.”

  Her mum moved over and took her by the hand to sit down. “It hurt her when you left, my darling. She took a long time to come to terms with that. She felt abandoned. I’m sure she’ll be okay. Just give her time to get used to you. It’s so lovely to see you again. How have you been? How is the nursing going?”

  Jenny couldn’t understand it. Lizzy had been hurt by her leaving? But why? She had only been young when Jenny left. She would have thought she’d have been grateful for the lack of shouting and happy, suddenly getting all the attention to herself. She had obviously done well on it, whatever she had made of her life. Why had it affected her? “I thought she would have been pleased to see the back of me?” she said.

  Her mum leaned forward over her knees and took hold of Jenny’s hand. “She loved you, Jenny; we all did. We still do.”

  Jenny pulled away.

  “It hurt her that you left without saying goodbye. She blamed herself for driving you away.”

  “But it had nothing to do with her.”

  “She was too young to understand that. We could hardly tell her about the baby
.”

  “You could have.”

  “She was barely nine years old, Jenny. She loved you. She couldn’t understand why you left her. And why you never even sent her a note again.”

  Jenny was distraught. She had never meant to hurt her sister. She hadn’t given a second thought to the way she would have seen it. Lizzy had felt abandoned, rejected and she had never even considered that. How could she have done that to her little sister?

  She shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts free. “Why didn’t you tell me?” They had been the ones to send her away. They should share in the responsibility.

  “You wouldn’t speak to us.”

  Jenny was suddenly on the defensive. The pain was still hurting. “You sent me away! You sided with Simon’s parents and then sent me away!” Her temper was rising. She had hoped not to cause a scene, being back for just a couple of hours, but this was unfair. “You ruined everything. You smothered me, never letting me out of your sight for weeks on end and then you turned your back on me altogether.”

  “We did no such thing. You wanted to go.”

  “I was 17. I had just lost my baby and I was devastated. Why couldn’t you see that?”

  “We did see that, darling. That’s why we let you go. We thought you needed a change of scene, a break away from us, from here. We never thought, for one minute, you’d stay away from us forever.”

  Her dad walked in. “Is everything all right?”

  Jenny looked at her mother and then to her dad, shaking her head. “No. No, it’s not. I’ve got to go.” She stood up and walked out to collect her things. “It was a mistake, coming back here.”

  Her mum hurried after her. “Don’t say that, Jenny. It’s been wonderful to see you again. Please stay a little longer. You haven’t told us anything about yourself yet.”

  “No. I’ve got to go.” She started walking towards the front door.

  “But it’s miles to the station,” her father told her.

  “I’ll walk.”

  “I can give you a lift,” the journalist said as he wandered into the hall.

  “Great.”

  Her mother approached her, but stopped a short way off as Jenny looked into her eyes and let the anger and confusion show on her face.

  “Don’t leave us, Jenny, not like this. Not again. Please, my darling.”

  Jenny’s heart was aching. She needed to get home. She needed Pete. “I have to,” she said, her voice a little sadder now, and she closed the door of the car and looked straight ahead at the road.

  To say that she had a lot to think about on the train back home would have been an understatement. Jenny couldn’t settle to read or rest in any way. Nothing had been at all as she’d expected. Even she hadn’t been how she’d expected.

  By the time she arrived back at Duxley Station, Jenny was in bits. She looked at her watch. Pete would still be in work. The only other person she could confide in, and who might even have some answers for her, was her auntie, so, on impulse, she took a bus to her aunt’s in the next town, grabbed a burger from a van along the way and went in search of some comfort.

  Jenny felt a welcome sense of security wash over her as she arrived in her auntie’s street. Her aunt would know what to say to ease her and she strode up to the door and knocked. She was just about to knock again when the door opened.

  “Jenny! How wonderful to see you. I was just going out.”

  “Oh. But… I really need to talk to you.” She felt her eyes beginning to glisten.

  Another woman appeared behind her aunt at the door and her aunt looked at Jenny and turned to the lady behind her. “Frances, I think I’m going to have to sit this one out, love. You don’t mind, do you?”

  The lady called Frances gave her aunt a hug and left and Jenny walked in.

  Auntie May settled her into the little living room and went to fetch some tea. “Have you been?” she asked, returning a few minutes later with a pot and a packet of Rich Teas.

  Jenny nodded.

  Her aunt passed over a cup. “Take a deep breath,” she said, “and then tell me all about it.”

  Jenny felt safe there. She had come to think of it as her home a good many years ago. The knick-knacks around the shelves and the flowery walls were familiar to her and she felt wrapped in its safety. Jenny let her guard slip and her emotions unravel as, bit by bit, she told her aunt about what had happened that day. And when she had finished, she looked up into the warm blue eyes of the woman who had loved her at her worst and silently pleaded for understanding.

  Her aunt pulled her into a hug and held her against her, soothing her back and her hair with her ageing hands. “And you want to know what happened. What really happened, not what you think happened in that lost, lonely teenage mind of yours that brought you to me?”

  Jenny nodded, unsure if she was going to like what she heard, but determined she had to hear it.

  And so her aunt told her everything. She told her how a brilliant, strong, teenage girl had fallen in love and found herself with a baby growing inside her. She told her how her mother and father had gone to see the boy’s parents and that they had wanted nothing to do with it. They had decided to send their son away, away from her, to achieve great things and that Jenny should get rid of the baby.

  “They said that?” Jenny asked, appalled.

  “Apparently. Your mum and dad were terribly upset. And when the boy did as his parents told him, they were just as cross with him too.”

  “They never told me any of that,” she said to her.

  “No, well, they loved you. They didn’t want you hurt any more than you had been already and you had enough on your plate coming to terms with the baby.”

  “But I thought they had told him to go.”

  “I know you did.”

  “Why didn’t anyone correct me?”

  “We tried. You were 17. You loved him. You didn’t believe any of us. You were so angry after he left you. Understandably so. And then, losing the baby…” She shook her head. “You were devastated. You were just lashing out, everywhere. They knew that. So they asked you if you would like to get away for a while, a change of air, if you like, and I had a room free at the time.

  “My Donna had left home a few years before and I thought I could use the company. It was only ever meant to be for a couple of months. But when it came to it, you couldn’t bear to go home. You stopped reading their letters, taking their calls; you wanted nothing to remind you of home. You completely shut them out. Shut it all out. I tried, for a while, to talk you round, but then you started pulling away from me too. So we had to let it drop.”

  “But there was nothing of me on their walls. It was all Lizzy.”

  “That only happened much later on. She was having her own problems and having reminders of you all around the walls wasn’t helping.”

  “Problems caused by me?”

  Her aunt didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

  “It was all just a sad situation, my love. Nobody was really to blame.”

  But Jenny realised now that there was. It was her. All those years she had been blaming them, not even considering Lizzy, and all the time it had been her. Her teenage rejected self, lashing out at the unfair world around her. Her parents had been left to deal with the mess she’d trailed behind her and she hadn’t even thought to care. If there was a medal for regret, she would own it.

  She could still clearly remember the pain she had felt and the loneliness echoing around her. It had been at the forefront of her mind when she’d arrived there that day. Was this really what had happened? It did have a ring of truth about it, but it was completely at odds with what she remembered. If this had been the case, why hadn’t they tried harder to reach her, or waited till she was older and then tried again. She was 31 now; there had been plenty of time to approach her calmly.

  Jenny stayed for a while after that. Her aunt rustled them up another pot of tea, but as dusk fell, she realised she had better be heading back. There w
as so much to think about, so much at stake, but she needed to talk to Pete before she turned in. He would want to know what had happened.

  By the time she got back to Duxley it was nearly ten o’clock at night. She took a taxi from the bus station, stopped briefly at her house to pick up the biscuits and went straight over to Pete’s.

  She didn’t pause in her mission. She needed to speak to him. Taking the stairs two at a time, she knocked on the door, not even considering that he might not be in. Of course he would be in. He knew she would be needing him. She knocked again, harder this time, until she heard him respond.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your horses.”

  The door opened and Jenny’s heart filled with joy. Pete; her handsome hero; he would settle her. But Pete wasn’t smiling. She looked into his eyes and was disturbed by the turmoil raging there. And then, from behind him, she heard a woman’s voice.

  Chapter 12

  “Who is it, babes?”

  Jenny leaned to the side and looked past him, and there, as plain as day, lounging on his settee in the shortest skirt and cropped top imaginable, was Tina, a nurse she recognised from theatre. This could not be happening.

  Jenny took a step back in shock. She had been the same as all the rest. One night, that was all you got with Pete, and now she was just another notch on his bedpost. And as the light flickered out in Jenny’s tender heart, her eager smile faded and crumbled to dust.

  She looked up at him and he must have known how it looked, because after a few seconds of feigned innocence, he couldn’t even meet her gaze. What had she been thinking? She had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar and she had only herself to blame. He hadn’t promised her anything. He hadn’t even told her she was different. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t find the words to say, so she simply put down the box of shortbread and as a tear began to trickle down her cheek, she closed her eyes, blocking him out of her heart, turned and walked away.

  “No. Jenny, don’t go. It’s not what you think,” he called after her, but there was no point; she would not hear him. She had been a prize fool. You could have asked anyone in the hospital if it was wise to sleep with Dr Florin and not one of them would have said she should. And in amongst all the images of seduction and betrayal Jenny was repeating inside her mind, came the fact that she had been eating Jenny’s cakes! Why the hell that upset her so much when all else had turned to pain, she had no idea.