Page 33 of One Golden Summer
They stared at each other, the only sound coming from the sea, and moonlight glittered on the water’s surface.
Kirsty shivered.
“You’re cold. We should both head home.”
“Probably so.” Kirsty sucked in a breath.
After some hesitation, they both got to their feet.
“I guess this is really good night, this time.” Saffron didn’t want it to be, but it was the only way to protect Kirsty from the inevitable Saffron torpedo.
“I guess it is. Good night, Saffron.” Kirsty turned to leave.
“Um, Kirsty?”
Turning slowly, there was hopefulness in her expression. “Yes?”
“You forgot to give me my bag.”
Kirsty palm-slapped her forehead. “Right. It’s the reason I’m here.”
Saffron wanted to ask if it was the only reason but wasn’t sure how she’d respond to the answer, afraid of all the possibilities.
Chapter 11
“Are you sure you don’t want to just go with an invite cut into the shape of a dagger?” Kirsty glanced down at her legs, which were whiter than she’d like. It wasn’t something she normally worried about when summer rolled around. However, now she was mixing with Saffron and Ginger—both effortlessly tanned—it played on her mind. Kirsty had tried using fake tan one year, and her mum still referred to it as “the summer of orange”.
“A bit too violent.” Ginger adjusted her shades on the bridge of her nose. They were much needed today on Ginger’s back patio, which looked over the beach. To their left, the Poseidon Inn watched over the sea beyond. To their right, stalls were setting up to sell hundreds of oysters and gallons of fizz throughout the day. Straight ahead, the tropical smell of factor 30 being applied to acres of pale British skin filled the air.
“What about a rainbow?”
Ginger let out a bark of laughter as she shifted on her padded garden chair. “Saffron’s the gay one, not me.” She paused. “Talking of which, we went to the Lobster Grill for dinner the other night. Fish and chips to die for.”
Kirsty nodded. “Best in town.”
“You weren’t lying. Anyway, it didn’t escape my attention she was talking a lot about you.” Ginger pressed the tip of her index finger into Kirsty’s knee. “I think she likes you.”
Kirsty took a breath and wasn’t sure what to do with it. How was she meant to react? In a typically British way, naturally. “Don’t be silly. I might be gay, but I’m far too old. Plus, she’s a movie star.” She put a finger to her chest. “In case you missed it, I’m very much not.”
“That’s beside the point.” Ginger cocked her head. “You get on, right?”
Kirsty nodded. She couldn’t deny that.
“You don’t look at her and want to vomit?”
“You’ve got such a way with words.”
“I know. I should have been a poet.” Ginger grinned. “What I mean is, Saffron scrubs up well. So do you. You get on. What’s the issue? I’ve always wanted my sister to meet someone who's not famous, someone normal. Famous people are crazy, take my word for it. Echo Black being a case in point.” Ginger gave her the trademark Oliver smile. “You, however, are the picture of normality. You’d be perfect.”
Echo Black. That name again. She was very much a feature in Kirsty’s life these days, even though Saffron had implied what they had was purely for movie publicity. Did Ginger know that? Kirsty went to reply, but Ginger held up a single finger in front of her.
“And don’t give me that ‘I’m too old’ guff. There's an age gap, but Saffron has lived a million lives. She's an old soul and you’re hip. Plus, she goes for older women. Always has. Echo Black isn’t as young as she says she is, believe me.”
Perhaps Ginger didn’t know the truth. Perhaps Saffron had just confided in her. Kirsty’s insides beamed at the thought. “I’ve just never gone for someone so much younger before.”
“How old was your ex-wife?”
Kirsty sat up straighter in her chair. “Two years younger. But it wasn’t the age that drove us apart. She wanted to live a bigger life than me. She wanted to travel. To go out to parties. I’ve never been that person. I’m far more of a homebody.”
