One Last Summer

by Connelly, Victoria

  ‘For you maybe.’

  ‘And for you too.’

  ‘Spoilsport!’

  ‘Come on,’ Audrey said. ‘I saw a cute little cafe down the street and I’m dying for a cup of tea.’

  They left the boutique, blinking in the bright light of the seafront.

  ‘I hope she’s okay,’ Audrey said.

  ‘She said it was just a headache.’

  ‘No, I mean in general.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t she be?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but – well – this whole thing seems odd to me. Hiring the priory and summoning us here. Don’t you think it’s odd?’

  ‘I hadn’t really thought about it.’

  ‘Hadn’t you?’

  ‘Nope! It’s probably just a middle-age crisis or something. She’s worked hard for so many years and, after her divorce and everything, I just think she wanted to splash out a bit and treat her friends.’

  ‘Yes, you’re probably right.’

  ‘You worry too much,’ Lisa told her.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You’re good at it, mind.’

  ‘Thanks!’ Audrey said with sarcasm.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Lisa linked her arm through her friend’s and they headed into the cafe.

  If Harrie was one for biting her nails, they would have been down to the quick by now. She knew it was unfair of her not to have told her friends that her daughter, Honor, was coming to stay, but she’d worried that, if she had, Audrey would then want to invite Jack and Lisa would insist on a guest as well, and Harrie had wanted the holiday to be just the three friends. And Honor. It might have been a selfish decision, but she hoped they wouldn’t mind. She couldn’t bear to be away from her daughter for so long – not when every single moment was precious – and she’d given her friends more than two weeks of her exclusive company. Actually, since Audrey had announced that she would be leaving for a few days, Harrie was feeling less guilty about having Honor to stay. The plan had been that Honor would join them at about the midway point but, after last night, Harrie had texted her daughter and she had rung right back and Harrie hadn’t been able to hide the tears.

  ‘I miss you so much!’ she’d cried down the phone, wishing her daughter was with her right there so she could hug her close.

  ‘I’m coming tomorrow,’ Honor had insisted.

  Harrie had protested for a few useless moments, but the truth was that she needed her daughter. Oh, how she needed her little girl with her.

  Honor had graduated from university two years before but, unlike her mother, hadn’t wanted to study teacher training. Instead, she’d taken a job at a local stately home, working for a family who were trying to save their home by opening it to the public. Her salary was appalling, but she adored the work and the quirkiness of the family and the splendour of the Georgian manor. The family had also been so understanding about Harrie’s condition, and Honor had never had any trouble taking time off to accompany her mother to hospital appointments or to help her during the rougher days of her treatment. Harrie didn’t know what she would have done without her and was grateful beyond words.

  She smiled as she thought about some of the fun times they’d shared recently – days when they’d just taken off in Honor’s little car, leaving their worries and fears behind for a few hours. Like the day they’d driven down to Lyme Regis. They’d browsed in a second-hand bookshop, bought fossils from another shop, eaten ice cream on the front and then walked out along the Cobb, taking photos and posing at the end of it like the French lieutenant’s woman. They’d then climbed down the steps known as the Granny’s Teeth in a rather poor imitation of Jane Austen’s heroine Louisa Musgrove, who had leapt from the top.

  ‘Less dangerous this way,’ Honor had said.

  ‘Exactly. We don’t want any unnecessary trips to the hospital, do we?’ Harrie had meant it as a light-hearted comment, but she’d seen the cloud pass over her daughter’s face and had known that it had ruined a perfectly lovely day. Cancer had a way of doing that, didn’t it?

  But now she had to focus on the present. Audrey and Lisa had gone shopping the morning Honor was due to arrive. Harrie had made her excuses, saying that she’d join them next time. There’d been some words of protest and Harrie had been forced to feign a headache. Honestly, this lying business was becoming too much of a habit, she thought guiltily.

  Now, she buzzed around the priory, needlessly tidying things up as she waited for her daughter’s arrival. Mrs Ryder, who’d turned up at the crack of dawn it seemed, was keeping her eye on Harrie.

  ‘Something’s going on here,’ she said as Harrie entered the kitchen.

  ‘Yes, Mrs Ryder. My daughter’s coming.’

  ‘A little bit of notice would have been welcome. I don’t know if I’ve got enough food in now.’

  ‘There’s plenty,’ Harrie assured her, ‘and we can always go out to eat.’

  Mrs Ryder shook her head as she filled the dishwasher. ‘I don’t like disorganisation.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know myself until last night.’

  ‘Hmmm, well, that’s just bad planning.’

  Harrie smiled to herself. There was no arguing with Mrs Ryder sometimes. She always had to have the last word. Anyway, it was worth putting up with her wrath to have her beloved daughter there.

  ‘When’s she arriving then?’ Mrs Ryder asked.

  ‘Well, she left pretty early so any time soon,’ Harrie said, looking out of the kitchen window once again as if Honor might be walking up the garden path at that very moment. ‘Actually, I’ll go and check.’

  Opening the front door, Harrie made her way into the garden, partly to escape Mrs Ryder and partly in the hope that her daughter really was there already. She walked down the pathway lined with lavender and humming with bees, reaching the great wooden door set in the high stone wall, opening it and looking out into the track.

  ‘Honor!’ Harrie cried, spotting the small blue car parked parallel to an ancient wall. Honor didn’t appear to have heard and Harrie watched for a moment as her daughter sat very still in the car. Was she on the phone? Or was she just psyching herself up for her visit? Harrie couldn’t help wondering.

  At last, her daughter seemed to rouse herself and opened the car door, spotting her mother standing there.

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Darling!’

  Honor, who was twenty-three, looked just like her mother. She was tall and slim-built with straight fair hair and honey-brown eyes. Her skin was pale like her mother’s too. She was wearing a simple summer dress and a pair of trainers and she looked absolutely scrumptious to Harrie.

  ‘I’ve missed you so much, darling!’ Harrie told her, kissing her cheeks with a resounding smack.

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ Honor cried, but she was laughing. ‘How are you? I mean, how are you really?’

  ‘I’m good. Really good.’

  ‘Yeah? No pain?’

  ‘No pain.’

  ‘But you’re still taking—’

  ‘I’m taking as much as I need to.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ Honor said, sounding so much more like a parent than a daughter. ‘It’s a good thing I’ve arrived.’

  ‘Honestly, Honor – there’s nothing to worry about. I feel absolutely fine. Positively radiant, in fact. I get a little tired occasionally, but that’s probably all this fresh air.’

  ‘Well, you do look good, I have to admit.’

  ‘It’s all this living outdoors. I can’t wait to share it all with you. The gardens are so beautiful and we’ve got our very own orchard and swimming pool. Wait till you see it! Let me help you with your things.’

  ‘Absolutely not!’ Honor said. ‘Besides, I’ve only got one little suitcase.’ She returned to the car and opened the boot, reaching inside for her modest luggage.

  ‘Is that all?’ Harrie asked.

  ‘It’s only light summer clothing,’ Honor told her. ‘I managed to squash i
t all in.’

  ‘We could always go shopping.’

  ‘We really don’t need to, Mum.’

  ‘But I want to treat you!’

  ‘I don’t want you tiring yourself out going round shopping centres. I have everything I need.’

  ‘You won’t tire me out. I’m not an invalid yet, you know.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And no woman ever has enough clothes,’ Harrie told her.

  ‘I do.’

  Harrie shook her head. ‘You are a very unusual young lady.’

  They walked through the gate and Harrie closed it behind them, turning to watch her daughter’s expression as she saw the priory for the first time.

  ‘Wow! This is completely outrageous, Mum!’ She gave a laugh.

  ‘I know!’

  ‘When you showed me the photos, it looked amazing enough, but it’s something else in the flesh.’

  ‘Nothing really prepares you for it, does it?’ Harrie said. ‘It’s been my home for two weeks now and yet it still gives me chills when I look at it. I sometimes sneak outside first thing in the morning or last thing at night and just look at the shadows and the silhouettes, and breathe in all its beauty.’

  ‘It’s like something out of a fairy tale. I thought you were mad to book it, I have to say.’

  ‘I knew you thought that,’ Harrie said. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

  Honor shrugged. ‘I figured you knew what you were doing.’

  Harrie smiled. ‘Haven’t I always?’

  Honor gave a sideways glance. ‘Erm, not always!’

  Harrie gasped. ‘I need evidence before you accuse me of such a thing!’

  ‘Well, what about that time you booked us on a boating holiday on the Broads and we crashed into that bridge?’

  ‘Ah, yes! I don’t think I’m a natural when it comes to boats.’

  ‘And when you booked that cottage on the Welsh coast and we ended up in the wrong village twenty miles away.’

  ‘That wasn’t my fault,’ Harrie said. ‘That was the unreliable satnav.’

  Honor laughed and they entered the cool of the kitchen, where Mrs Ryder was wiping down the table.

  ‘Honor, this is Mrs Ryder,’ Harrie said. ‘She’s taking care of us whilst we’re here. Mrs Ryder – this is my daughter, Honor.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,’ Mrs Ryder said.

  ‘And you,’ Honor said.

  ‘I haven’t had time to prepare a room for you. Your mother sprang your arrival on me just ten minutes ago.’

  ‘It’s okay, Mrs Ryder. The twin room’s already made up,’ Harrie said.

  ‘Could’ve freshened the bedding.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Harrie assured her.

  Mrs Ryder mumbled something as she turned away, grabbing a tea towel, and Harrie placed her hand on Honor’s shoulder and steered her out of the room and up the spiral staircase to the first floor.

  ‘She’s a bit scary, Mum,’ Honor said once they were out of earshot.

  ‘Oh, she’s a sweetheart really. You okay with that suitcase?’

  ‘I’m fine. I’m glad I packed light, though. I didn’t know I’d have to negotiate spiral staircases.’

  ‘Not much further,’ Harrie told her as they walked out onto the landing. ‘I’m afraid you don’t get your pick of the rooms, but it’s a very pretty twin that I think you’ll be comfortable in.’

  Harrie turned left and opened the door.

  ‘It’s gorgeous, Mum!’ Honor put her suitcase down and did what every single person did when they entered a room in the priory: she walked to the window to look outside.

  ‘Isn’t it lovely? Our very own orchard for the summer.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Honor agreed.

  ‘There’s a footpath that runs right through it and out into the lane. I like to walk there early in the mornings when it’s still misty. There’s a blackbird that sings in one of the ancient apple trees there.’ She pointed.

  ‘Are you having trouble sleeping?’ Honor asked her.

  ‘A little.’

  ‘You should tell your doctor, Mum.’

  ‘I don’t want to waste my time sleeping, darling!’

  ‘But it’s important. You need to rest, Mum.’

  ‘I need to live!’

  The two women starred at each other and Harrie flinched when she saw the tears in her daughter’s eyes.

  ‘Hey!’ she said. ‘What’s the matter?’ Harrie crossed the space between them and folded her arms around her slender shoulders. She felt Honor’s arms tighten around her waist.

  ‘You’ve lost more weight,’ Honor told her.

  ‘Not much,’ she said, doing her best to be brave when, in fact, her daughter’s tears tore the very heart out of her.

  Honor sniffed. ‘Don’t lose any more.’

  ‘Hey, I’m eating like a pig!’

  ‘Why don’t I believe you?’

  ‘There’s cake in the kitchen.’

  ‘Really?’ Honor leaned back and mopped her eyes with a tissue from her pocket.

  ‘I was thinking of making a treacle tart too. You used to love those, remember?’

  ‘With lots of yellow custard?’ Honor asked.

  ‘With whatever you want!’

  ‘You’ll have some too?’

  ‘Try and stop me!’

  Honor laughed and Harrie smiled before turning to open the bedroom window.

  ‘You’ve not told them, have you?’ Honor suddenly said.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘You’ve not told Lisa or Audrey.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Because you look too relaxed. I don’t think you’d be so relaxed if you’d told them.’ She came forward and looked directly into her mother’s face. ‘Have you?’

  ‘No,’ Harrie admitted. ‘The time’s not been right. These first two weeks have flown by and I wanted to enjoy them. I wanted them to be a cancer-free zone.’

  Honor nodded in understanding.

  ‘I will tell them, but in my own time.’

  ‘How do you think they’ll react?’

  Harrie puffed out a breath. ‘God knows! They might run a mile.’

  ‘They won’t!’

  Harrie smiled. ‘No, they wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘Unlike Linda then,’ Honor said.

  ‘Ah, Linda!’ Harrie nodded. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? The people you think you can trust with your problems often turn out to be the ones who simply can’t cope.’

  Harrie thought of the colleague she’d worked with for so long and how she had simply vanished from her life the moment Harrie had told her of her condition. Harrie had tried to reach out to her, but her calls had gone unanswered and she’d been forced to walk away from that particular friendship even though it had cut her to the core. She’d experienced it since then in others too. It was sad to acknowledge the fact that some people simply didn’t want sickness in their lives. They didn’t know how to cope with it. They didn’t know what to say and they certainly didn’t know what to do with a friend who was ill, and that was fine. Well, it wasn’t. If Harrie was being perfectly honest, it was downright weird. It angered her immensely. After all, she was the one with the battle on her hands. Why should her friends feel threatened and afraid? But there was nothing she could do about it. Slowly, she had learned to accept that being ill was an isolating experience and that not everybody would be there for you.

  ‘Well, you can do without people like Linda in your life,’ Honor told her.

  Harrie nodded. ‘I have you and my two best friends. What more could I ask for?’

  Honor smiled. ‘There’s something else I need to get from the car. Stay here. I won’t be a moment.’

  Harrie watched as her daughter left the room. It felt so good to have her there. Harrie had missed her so much over the last two weeks, but hadn’t said anything to Audrey and Lisa for fear of giving herself away.

  As she thought of the fun that lay ahead of them t
hat summer, her gaze fell to her daughter’s suitcase. Perhaps she could help her unpack.

  She unzipped her suitcase and opened it, smiling at the pastel-coloured fabrics which her daughter favoured, her hand reaching out to touch the delicate material of a sundress she hadn’t seen before. It was very pretty and Harrie found herself searching for the label but, instead of finding a label, her hand uncovered a book.

  Cancer. What To Do When It Strikes Your Family.

  Harrie cursed, her hand starting to shake slightly. She’d slowly come to accept the cancer on her own behalf, but she still railed against it for the effect on those around her. Why should they have to suffer along with her? Why should their lives be torn apart just because the disease had destroyed hers? She still had nightmares about Honor’s reaction to her news and would often wake up in a cold sweat, the image of her daughter’s distraught face hovering before her. It truly was the most brutal part of this journey, she thought, holding the book in both hands and wanting to hurl it across the room. Of course, she didn’t do that and, as she heard footsteps along the corridor, Harrie covered up the book with the dress and zipped the suitcase shut, moving quickly away to stand by the window and look outside once more as her daughter entered the room.

  ‘Here it is,’ Honor said and, once she was sure she had her emotions under control, Harrie turned around, frowning when she saw Honor with a large carrier bag.

  ‘What have you got in there?’

  ‘Come and see.’

  Honor sat down on the single bed and fished inside the bag, bringing out three large photo albums.

  ‘Oh my goodness! What on earth did you bring all these for?’ Harrie asked with a laugh.

  ‘Because I wanted to look at them with you.’

  ‘I haven’t looked at these for years.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Honor said.

  ‘Did you go round to my house to get these?’

  ‘Of course I did.’

  Harrie smiled. ‘You always did like looking at all the old photographs, didn’t you?’

  ‘You mean like your wedding photos?’

  Harrie nodded.

  ‘I couldn’t find those,’ Honor said. ‘You haven’t thrown them away, have you?’ A little crease formed in between Honor’s brows.

  ‘No, of course not,’ Harrie said. ‘I’ve just put them somewhere where I don’t have to see them every day.’