by Minna Howard
THAT LONG LOST SUMMER
Also by Minna Howard
A Dad of His Own
A Winter Affair
Mothers and Daughters
Second Chances
That Long Lost Summer
THAT LONG LOST SUMMER
Minna Howard
AN IMPRINT OF HEAD OF ZEUS
www.ariafiction.com
First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd
Copyright © Minna Howard, 2019
The moral right of Minna Howard to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781789541564
Aria
c/o Head of Zeus
First Floor East
5–8 Hardwick Street
London EC1R 4RG
www.ariafiction.com
For Trisha Ashley and Norma Curtis, friends through thick and thin. My love and thanks.
Contents
Also by Minna Howard
Welcome Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Become an Aria Addict
1
Staying with old friends in the South of France was the perfect place for her and Hugo to get their marriage back on track now that they were alone again without their beloved daughters. Flora felt a lift of hope as the taxi charged up the hill in the golden evening sun, turned sharply and then they were there.
Villa Emeraude was set in the middle of a large sun baked garden, not far from Grimaud and Saint Tropez. There was a narrow drive down one side of the villa which the taxi could easily have used to drop them by the front door, but the driver sat like a statue in the lane by the open gate and waited for them to get out.
‘Here we are,’ Flora said, relieved to be out of the stuffy taxi although she felt a sudden onset of shyness. They hadn’t seen Susie and Matt for almost two years after they’d moved from living practically next door to them in London to Cambridge. A couple of months or so ago, Susie had rung and invited them to stay in the villa which Matt had recently inherited from his grandmother.
‘We thought we’d spend the whole summer out there. Thanks to the Internet, we can still run the business,’ she’d said. ‘The villa’s not at all glamorous, but much loved.’
‘We’d much rather that, than over the top glitz,’ Flora said and so, here they were. She waited beside the taxi while Hugo paid the driver who, with a great show of boredom, opened the boot to release their cases, before driving away without a backward glance.
‘Here we are,’ Hugo echoed.
A bright pink bougainvillea sprawled up the walls of the biscuit coloured villa, the windows framed by light blue shutters. A few large bellied, terracotta pots stuffed with flowering plants stood on the sun baked stone slabs in front of the villa with a couple of skinny, dark green fir trees standing to attention by the blue front door.
Hugo hovered at the door for a moment, wondering whether to pull the metal bell chain, but Susie had seen them through the window and opened the front door, smiling.
‘Hugo and Flora, you’ve arrived.’ She hugged Hugo and then Flora. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you. It’s been far too long, but now we’ve got this villa it makes it so much easier to have people to stay. Come in, I’ll show you to your room. We’ve had a slight drama. A stray cat has had kittens in our airing cupboard.’
‘Oh, that’s a nuisance,’ Flora said.
‘Matt saw her yesterday. He said she looked fat but somehow didn’t think she was pregnant. Anyway, Sylvia, who is also staying, is a real cat person so I’ve put her in charge.’ She shrugged. ‘Someone might turn up to claim them.’
‘How many are there?’ Flora asked. She preferred dogs herself, but there was no doubt that kittens were adorable.
‘Three at the last count, maybe more by now. It’s not that I don’t like them, but I hope we won’t be overrun. And when we leave here at the end of the summer, what happens then? Sylvia said not to disturb them.’ Susie looked harassed. ‘Luckily your beds were made before she commandeered the airing cupboard, so at least you’ve got clean sheets. We’ve all been out all day and are now changing for supper, not smart, you know. We’ve been swimming in the sea and are quite bedraggled.’
Susie was not at all bedraggled. She looked wonderful in a floaty blue cotton dress with red flowers on the bodice, her blonde hair newly washed. Flora felt hot and dirty in her once pristine white trousers and, now crumpled, pale green shirt. She was glad there would be time for a shower before supper.
The interior of the villa was a warren of rooms. It had started off long ago as a modest place, bought by Matt’s grandparents as a bolthole after the war. They’d gradually built on rooms as the family grew. Matt had joked to Susie that he’d only married her so he didn’t have to be crammed into a room with his male cousins when he came to visit his grandparents. Although they had been well built, these extensions gave the villa a rather haphazard look. The place was crammed with furniture left to them by members of the family after death or downsizing. There’d be no more rooms built on now, Flora thought with a pang, as they followed Susie down a passage bright with her scenic photographs – a hilltop village in snow, crisscrossed with tiny bird footsteps, a mass of sunflowers, a stormy sea with the waves edged with foam. Much to her sorrow, Susie could not have children although she’d virtually brought up her highflying sister’s daughter, Alegria.
As they walked through the villa, they could hear the sound of running water, muffled voices, a door closing and Flora wondered how many people were staying.
She felt a little shy. ‘Sounds as if you’ve got a house full, Susie,’ she said.
‘Ten of us altogether, you’ll meet the others at supper. All old friends from here and there, some are work colleagues. I don’t think you’ve met them, but you’ll like them,’ she said cheerfully.
‘Of course we will,’ Flora said gamely, disappointed t
hat none of their shared London friends would be here.
Susie opened a door in front of her. ‘Here we are, you’ve got a tiny bathroom. Hopefully the plumbing all works, although the water can be a bit temperamental. Being British, Cecily and Frank put in lots of bathrooms. Not every room has one, but yours has.’
‘Lovely, thank you, Susie, we’re so glad to be here,’ Hugo said, looking relieved as if he’d expected to be housed in some stiflingly hot hovel.
‘I’ll leave you to it. Come through when you’re ready. You’ll see the door to the back garden. That’s where we congregate for supper. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, we’ve so much to catch up on. We want to hear all about your clever girls going to college in the US, so forward thinking of them.’
Flora and Hugo looked round the small white bedroom. It had a double bed covered with a blue Provencal patterned bedcover, matching the curtains, an old fashioned dressing table with a wobbly leg which Hugo had to prop up with a piece of their boarding card and a couple of small, cane bottomed chairs. Though neither of them remarked upon it as they started to unpack, they both felt lonely in this small, neat room without their daughters nearby.
The window blinds were down to keep out the midday heat and Flora went over to look out over the back garden. A turquoise swimming pool shone in the middle of a paved surround with a summerhouse beside it. She saw Matt and another man pulling the sunbeds under an awning to make more space for a table laid for supper. They were lucky to be here and they would enjoy it, it would be selfish not to, she told herself firmly. She must not forget to use this time for her and Hugo to become close again now that their beloved daughters had flown their happy nest.
‘It looks so lovely out there, soft glowing colours,’ she said cheerfully to Hugo who’d just come out of the bathroom with a towel round his waist. ‘We’re going to have a great time, I know we are.’ Her tone was bracing.
‘Yes, of course we are,’ he said. But there was no enthusiasm in his voice and he turned away from her as he got dressed, as if they didn’t know each other at all.
2
Hugo was ready for supper before she was and about to go out to the garden to join the others but she asked him to wait a moment so they could go together. She just had to put on her sandals and brush her hair.
‘Don’t be long,’ he said, hovering by the door. ‘I’m dying for a drink.’
‘Me too,’ she agreed, looking forward to something cool and refreshing. She shoved her feet into her sandals after brushing her hair, still slightly damp from the shower, and they left their room together to follow the sound of laughter.
Flora struggled to dismiss her feelings of panic over Hugo’s mood. This was the first time – apart from a few months immediately after their marriage – that they’d been utterly alone without their daughters. The girls had left for the States almost a week ago and she and Hugo had both been kept busy with work, Hugo sorting out some complicated travel arrangements and she packing up the art gallery ready for the building works to expand and rejuvenate it for the autumn. She was annoyed with him for not trying to be cheerful now that they were here, in this beautiful part of France. She felt guilty feeling like this. Was Hugo suffering from some dreaded depression, or had he stopped loving her, was bored of her company without their daughters to amuse him? If so, why and when had he stopped loving her?
She must not think like this. Naturally they were missing their girls and struggling to get used to a different life without them. She knew other friends had felt the same when their last child had flown the nest, but they had soon got used to their new freedom and embraced it, welcoming their children and their friends and families back for visits, and happily slotting back into a new freedom together when they had gone. She must not panic and imagine that Hugo did not love her any more. Why did people, namely women, somehow feel that they were to blame for any change in a relationship? Now, a tiny but scary voice nudged her. Did she still love him?
It was fortunate that they were out here with such dear friends in such lovely surroundings and surely in a few days all would be well between them. Their relationship might have changed – most relationships changed over time – but that didn’t mean their marriage had run its course.
She followed him down the passage and out into the larger garden at the back of the villa by the pool. Matt saw them first.
‘Flora and Hugo, so good to see you.’ He came over and kissed her. He’d put on weight since she’d last seen him but he was tanned and relaxed, more cheerful than she’d ever known him. ‘Have a drink,’ he said, ‘and let me introduce you to everyone.’
Flora smiled round at the other people who were regarding them with interest. A tall dark woman nearest them in a red dress and a black jet necklace smiled back at her and said, ‘Hi, I’m Didi and this is Tony, my partner.’ Tony was rather gangly with pale eyes and huge hands. He grinned at them.
Matt introduced Sylvia, plump and cheerful in white trousers and a sparkly top. Flora remembered that she was in charge of the uninvited cat family. Martha wearing a flowery, floaty dress and with long blonde hair, gave Flora the once over as if assessing her, before throwing Hugo a dazzling smile. There were two other men, Ben, very British in jeans and a crisp, blue shirt was sunburnt and rather jolly.
‘Good to see you,’ Ben boomed in their direction. Turning to Hugo, he said, ‘We’ve met, you organised a trip for me to South America, a few years back, great to see you again and to meet your wife.’
‘And Xavier,’ Matt said. Flora turned, smiling politely, to meet him, while trying to keep all their names in her head.
‘Flora, how lovely to see you again.’ Xavier took her hand and raised it briefly to his lips, his dark eyes full of laughter.
Her heart stopped for a moment. Could it really be him, after all these years?
3
Flora was engulfed by memories as she stood there with Hugo in the garden of the Villa Emeraude, surrounded by Susie and Matt’s friends.
Xavier said, ‘After all this time. I often wondered if we’d meet again.’ He moved closer to her, his voice soft in her ear. She glanced round the group. Everyone else was talking to each other, or helping carry out the supper from the kitchen. Hugo was still deep in conversation with Ben.
Those dark eyes of his searched her face and she felt herself drawn to him just as she had all those years ago. This was madness. She took a step back from him.
So…’ He turned and looked round the gathering. The dusk was drawing in and lights were beginning to come on. His gaze came to rest on Hugo. ‘That must be your husband, lover, whatever.’ There was mischief in his face and she remembered how he would tease her.
‘Yes, my husband, Hugo, you must meet him. And you, have you someone here?’ She glanced around the group in the garden.
‘No, I am divorced, I’m here alone.’ Again his eyes, those warm and tender eyes lingered on her face and desire flooded through her. She turned away; he must not guess how empty her marriage had become.
Susie was walking towards them, smiling. ‘Come and have supper. It’s so good to see you both. Longing to catch up.’ She put an arm round Flora’s shoulders, hugging her, before turning to Xavier. ‘We used to live in the next street in London, our children – well, their children and Alegria, my niece – briefly went to school together when they were little, and then three years ago, as you know, we moved to Cambridge and somehow we haven’t managed to meet up for more than an instant until now – though we do phone and gossip occasionally.’
‘That’s great,’ Xavier said and Flora waited for him to say that they, too, had once known each other, but he did not and then they were swept up with the others, all sitting round a table groaning with delicious food and drink and she and Xavier were not alone again that evening.
Sylvia slipped away to check on the kittens and announced that there were four, ‘one tabby like her and the others black,’ she said. ‘I’ll put a note up in the village in case she has
an owner looking for her.’
Flora was relieved to get to bed. As the evening progressed, night creeping over the garden now dotted with gold orbs from the garden lights, she felt herself wilting.
‘Good to be in bed,’ she said to Hugo, who was carefully hanging up his trousers, ‘and a lovely squashy mattress and linen sheets, no doubt left over from Matt’s grandmother’s day. Such luxury.’
Hugo said nothing. He got in beside her and immediately put out the light on his side, then turned away from her, pulling the sheets up as if he wanted to wrap himself in a solitary cocoon.
‘It’s a wonderful villa, and nice people,’ Flora went on, reliving the surprise of Xavier’s presence. It was extraordinary to meet up with him again after all these years. She reminded herself firmly that he was a flirt and no doubt had at least one woman in his life.
She was about to say all this to Hugo, but he jerked the sheet tighter around his body as if to stop her talking and let him sleep. She felt hurt. It wasn’t as if she expected him to make love to her, she didn’t feel like it much herself, but he could have chatted, said something about being here. Of course he was exhausted, he’d worked right up to the wire, just as she had in the gallery, but could he not even say good night?
‘Mmm.’ He rolled himself tighter in his cocoon. She picked up her book and started to read to block out the chill of being ignored, though the words danced before her eyes and made no sense at all.
4
Flora slept badly, waking early and feeling restless. She got up, pulling on some shorts and a T-shirt and crept out of the room leaving Hugo to sleep.
There was a purity in the early morning light, a serenity, the sky washed blue with tinges of soft pink at the edges where it touched the skyline and the rising sun. The door from the villa to the back garden was open and she could see Susie sitting by the pool and Xavier wandering in the garden. Susie had been swimming, her blonde hair was sleek against her head, dripping into the collar of her blue towelling robe.