Page 18 of Best Summer Ever

‘It’s almost holiday season – plenty of tourists poised to pour in!’

‘Wynmouth is hardly a holiday hotspot,’ I pointed out. ‘And besides, I’m twenty-eight, not eighteen.’

‘So?’ He shrugged. ‘Live a little.’

Then he sauntered off whistling ‘Summer Lovin” fromGreaseand I was left thinking that he should take a dose of his own medicine.

Chapter 5

Having just left one relationship behind, I certainly wasn’t about to take up Nick’s suggestion and start another, even if he had hinted that it could have the shortest possible shelf life.

However, the next morning I was so amazed and dismayed to discover that neither of my parents were genuinely convinced that I really had left my relationship with Laurence behind, that I was almost tempted to consider having a fling just to properly drive the point home. Over breakfast Mum and Dad infuriatingly asked if the current situation might not be more of a brief hiatus or a temporary break, like the one Ross and Rachel had disastrously taken inFriends!

I could have told them that in one sense it was – i.e. the part where Ross slept with someone else – but I kept my lips zipped and ducked out of the cottage the second I could leave without them assuming I had something to hide. I had already shouldered the blame for the break-up, so why couldn’t they accept the situation and move on? I had unthinkingly assumed they had, but I’d clearly misread their reactions.

As I was now feeling put out as well as a bit jittery about my first shift in the pub that evening, I thought I’d bite thebullet and tackle something else head-on that I was feeling edgy about. The rain had cleared and it was a stunning sunny day, so I had no excuse not to head into the garden.

I used to love playing in it when I was little and then earning pocket money helping Dad when I was older. The garden had been my sanctuary… until it wasn’t and then I had completely banished it. I hadn’t given it a moment’s consideration when I decided to move back to Wynbrook for the summer, but now it was on my mind again and I couldn’t escape it.

I was distressed to discover that the packed borders and neat lawns didn’t soothe me in the same way they once had and I ended up skirting around the periphery instead. I walked right to the very edge where there was a single-storey wooden building with a tiled roof and pretty, covered veranda. It was known on the estate as The Summerhouse, but it was bigger and far more special than its commonplace name suggested.

‘Ouch,’ I winced, as I inched my way along the overgrown path towards it and my bare left calf rubbed against an encroaching patch of stinging nettles.

I ignored the pain, knowing that scratching it would make it worse and eventually worked my way through the undergrowth to the veranda. I peered through the windows and was disappointed to find the inside appeared to be as sadly neglected as the outside. The two wooden rocking chairs that usually flanked the door were piled up inside and the rest of the furniture was covered in dust sheets. The windows were so grimy, it was impossible to see if there was still a bed on the mezzanine and I wondered if the electricity was connected.

The Summerhouse had all mod cons. Well, running water and electricity anyway, and had been designed as guest accommodation.Not that the manor wasn’t large enough to accommodate a dozen, but Algy had had the garden sanctuary built for anyone looking for a more private and secluded retreat from the world.

I stepped back and took the whole of it in, carefully avoiding more nettles, and surmised that no one had sought refuge in it for quite a while.

‘Yet another area of the garden I haven’t been able to properly keep on top of,’ I heard Dad say resignedly behind me.

‘You can’t do everything, Dad,’ I reminded him. ‘You need more help.’

The words tasted bitter in my throat, given the memories that were now churning away as a result of my looking around.

‘Yes,’ he said, putting down the loaded wheelbarrow and wiping his overall sleeve across his forehead, which was damp with sweat. ‘You’re right, but getting help is easier said than done. With so much property given over to the tourist trade here now, there are fewer and fewer locals left living nearby every year.’

‘Which in turn depletes the local workforce,’ I said, nodding along, ignoring the growing bud of resentment that I couldn’t allow to bloom. ‘And sucks the life out of the community.’

It was a miracle there was still a school within reasonable distance for Penny to teach in.

‘Exactly,’ Dad sighed. ‘Though the village is holding its own where the community is concerned.’

‘Well,’ I said, trying to cheer him up, ‘I’m local and I’m back.’

‘But for how long?’ he asked. ‘I keep expecting Laurence to turn up and whisk you away again.’

I let out a slow, but not particularly calming breath.

‘That isn’t going to happen, Dad,’ I said firmly. ‘You need to accept that. You and Mum both need to accept that. I thoughtyou had. I would hardly have gone to the trouble of packing up all of my things from the flat and clearing out my room in the cottage to accommodate them if this was just some silly spat Laurence and I had had, would I?’

‘I suppose not,’ Dad sighed. ‘And as far as I know, he hasn’t been in touch?’

‘He hasn’t,’ I confirmed. ‘And he won’t be.’

‘I just hope you don’t end up regretting leaving him,’ Dad carried on after a beat had passed.

‘I won’t.’

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