Summer Season (20 page)

1916–1917

When war had come Edward was grateful that Harry was still too young to fight. He had hoped, initially, that the war would be over before he was old enough to join up, but since he’d turned eighteen, Harry had been desperate to go and do his bit, but Lily kept begging him to stay. And the stories that came back from the Front were growing ever more desperate. Though Edward wanted Harry to do his duty for his country, he was under no illusion as to what that might involve. And when Connie brought home George Forrester, one of the convalescent soldiers whom
she’d met in Chiverton, Edward fretted for her future happiness.

It is clear to me that Connie is very much in love with George, who is a fine and upstanding young man, whom on discovering his own parents are dead, we have happily taken under our wing,
he wrote in his diary.
In former times, this would have been a source of great happiness to me. Loath as I am to lose my daughter, I can only rejoice if she has found a man who can make her as happy as Lily makes me. But I fear her happiness may be shortlived. George will soon return to the Front, and who is to say what will happen then?

But seeing how Connie flourished and sparkled in George’s presence, his love bringing her a confidence and happiness he had never before seen in her, Edward could not deny his daughter. When, one sunny evening, the young lovers emerged, radiant and shining from a tryst in the sunken garden, Edward immediately knew the question George was going to pose him, as well as the answer he would give.

‘George is returning to the Front shortly,’ said Connie, ‘so we will wait until his return to marry. After all, the war cannot go on forever. He’ll soon come back to us.’

His brave, pragmatic, sensible daughter. How little any one of them understood how necessary those qualities would be in the coming months.

Edward was sitting at his writing desk, looking out of the window one sunny day in July, when he espied a small figure toiling up the hill on a bicycle. As the figure grew nearer, he recognized the boy who delivered telegrams and his stomach plummeted.

At first,
he recorded in his diary,
I thought the telegram might not be for us, but then the boy climbed off his bicycle and turned down our path. I knew the telegram would be for Connie. I couldn’t bear to think of her going through the
heartache so many other families had endured. I leapt to my feet to get to the door before Connie did, but I was too late …

Edward flung open the door of his study to see Connie standing pale and motionless, the door still held open for the boy, who was now making his way back down the path. She clutched the telegram to her breast. Her breathing was laboured, but she stood so still, she might have been a statue. Seeing her father, she mutely held the telegram towards him.

‘George?’ he said gently.

‘Missing, presumed dead it says,’ said Connie, a slight tremble in her voice the only sign of emotion. ‘That means he might still be alive.’

‘Of course,’ soothed Edward, privately thinking it very unlikely, as he held his daughter in his arms. ‘We mustn’t give up hope.’

Lily came in from the garden just then, holding a spray of freesias she’d picked. Seeing Connie in her father’s arms, she gave a slight scream of ‘No!’ Lily had come to love George as another son, but Edward suspected the fears she’d had for his safety were somehow bound up in her fear that Harry, too, would ultimately go off to fight.

Connie laid herself against Edward’s chest, not saying anything, and Lily came over and hugged her daughter close, in an uncommon sign of affection. She looked at Edward with tears in her eyes. ‘Why?’ she said. ‘Why poor George? Why poor Connie?’

But Edward had no answer for that. He wished he could wipe away Connie’s pain, the way he had wiped tears, and patched up wounds, when she was a child. Now there was nothing he could do, and he watched helplessly as Connie moved away from him and stayed, staring mutely out of the window all that day and the next. She couldn’t be persuaded to eat, or sleep.

‘Why doesn’t she cry?’ Lily said. ‘I couldn’t stand to be so silent and still. I don’t think I could bear it, if it were me and you. And if anything ever happened to Harry …’

Her voice broke off and she looked away. Edward, knowing how real and vivid the fear of losing Harry was to her, took her hands and caressed them. ‘Harry will be fine,’ he soothed, ‘and Connie is grieving in her own way. We should let her be.’

But even he was astonished when, on the third day after receiving the telegram, Connie rose as normal, and started to write letters to anyone and everyone who might possibly know what had happened to her beloved George. As the weeks went by and George’s name had still not turned up on the prisoners’ lists, Edward tried to prepare his daughter for the worst. But stubbornly she wouldn’t listen, staying up late at night, wearing herself to the bone, reading and writing letters till she was hollow-eyed and quite thin. Edward worried that she was making herself ill, but if he tried to tell her to ease off, she would look at him blankly and say, ‘I have to do this, for George. Until I know for sure.’

And the day eventually arrived when she finally heard from George’s commanding officer.

Connie put the letter down, and for the first time in months her facade crumbled.

Lily and Edward both caught her as she fell, and Lily gently took her up to bed.

This wretched war
, Edward wrote in his diary,
when will it ever end? I fear so badly for Harry. He keeps saying he wants to enlist, and though I know it will break Lily’s heart, I also know he wants to do his duty. How can I stop him from doing what he believes to be right?

The party was in full swing by the time Lauren got there. Kezzie had invited several of the committee, and Eileen was talking enthusiastically about the work that had been done.

‘Have you seen what these young people have achieved?’ she was saying. ‘The gardens haven’t looked this good in years.’

Lauren took the girls’ hands and wandered through the throng to find Kezzie pouring drinks in the kitchen and talking nineteen to the dozen. She seemed a bit merry already when Lauren said hello, but soon composed herself and pointed Lauren in the direction of the garden so the girls could run around.

Lauren got drinks for the girls and headed outside. Kezzie had lit up the garden with fairy lights, strategically placed among the bushes, and set her garden chairs out on the patio in between the planters, which Kezzie had recently planted up with heartsease, primula and a few petunias. It looked lovely.

‘Ooh pretty,’ said the girls, clapping their hands in delight. They were pleased to find Sam toddling outside, watched by an eagle-eyed Joel. She was pleased to see him too. Too often these days their exchanges were fleeting.

‘Where’s Troy?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Lauren, feeling put out that that should be the first thing Joel asked. It felt like she’d not seen Joel
for ages, and she’d been looking forward to a proper chat. ‘Why should I?’

‘Oh. I thought you’d have come with him,’ said Joel.

‘Why would I do that?’ said Lauren, slightly puzzled. What on earth was Joel getting at?

‘It’s just that you seem joined at the hip these days,’ said Joel.

‘What?’ Now Lauren was really bewildered.

‘Just – I thought—’ Joel’s voice trailed off. ‘Never mind what I thought.’

‘Oh my God. You think Troy and I are back together,’ said Lauren, the penny dropping. She felt furious that Joel would assume such a thing, conveniently forgetting that in moments of weakness this didn’t seem such a bad idea. ‘Well, I can assure you categorically that we’re not.’

‘He just seems to be around such a lot,’ said Joel. ‘I was worried about you. And I just assumed …’

‘Well don’t,’ said Lauren. ‘Don’t assume.’

There was an angry silence. Lauren was infuriated that Joel of all people should be interfering in her life.

‘I can look after myself you know,’ said Lauren.

‘I’m not saying you can’t,’ said Joel. ‘I was just worried that given your past with Troy, he might muck you around again. I care about you, Lauren – as a friend. I’d hate to see that.’

‘Well, a) Troy is the father of my children, so of course I will be seeing a lot of him,’ said Lauren, ‘and b) it is possible for a person to change you know, and c) it’s none of your damned business.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Joel, looking wretched. ‘I only want to help. I’m not sure that Troy is all that good for you.’

Lauren’s fury erupted. ‘You’re not
jealous,
are you? My God. I actually think you are. Come on girls, we’re going home.’

‘But we want to play with Sam,’ said the girls.

‘Five minutes,’ said Lauren. ‘And then we have to go.’

She glared at Joel, who looked back at her, unhappily. Why did he have to go and ruin things?

At 9 p.m. Joel decided to call it a day. Sam had crashed in his buggy and Lauren, the only person he really wanted to talk to, had long since gone. He’d tried to apologize again, but she wouldn’t have it. He was aware that in his misery, he’d probably had a bit too much to drink. Whoops. Drunk in charge of a toddler. At least he’d had the sense to walk; he should be able to make it home in one piece.

Joel was usually so circumspect with his drinking, worrying ever since Claire had died that if he got in the habit of drinking heavily he would be in trouble. But Lauren had rattled him tonight. It was as though a veil had been drawn from his eyes. Lauren was right. He was, he realized, very jealous. While Kezzie had come along like a catalyst, to open up his eyes to the fact that he could start to live again, he suddenly understood that all along there’d been someone special right under his nose.

Lauren was the one person who’d been there for him more than anyone else since Claire died. She’d loved Claire too, and in the early days she had patiently listened to him talking endlessly about her. She had been great with Sam too, treating him like one of her own children. How could he have been so blind? All this time he’d had lots of short and unfulfilling flings, and there had been the possibility of happiness there, right under his nose. He wondered if it was too late to persuade Lauren that what she needed right now in her life was him.

‘What do you think I should do, Sammy boy?’ he said to his sleeping son, as he squeezed the buggy past the street lights outside Lauren’s house. The lights in Lauren’s house
were still on; Troy was still at the party. Sam dozed contentedly in the buggy.

‘You’re right, I should tell her,’ said Joel. ‘Faint heart, never won fair lady.’ Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell.

Lauren came to the door.

‘Oh. It’s you.’

This wasn’t exactly the answer he was hoping for.

‘May I come in?’ said Joel. ‘I won’t be long. I’ve got to get Sam off to bed.’

‘All right,’ said Lauren.

‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ he said. ‘You’re right. What you and Troy get up to is none of my business.’

‘Too right it’s not,’ said Lauren.

‘It’s just – well – you were also right about something else.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes.’ Joel felt his palms sweating. Lauren’s body language was hostile to say the least. She didn’t exactly seem enthusiastic about him being there, but he ploughed on.

‘I am jealous. I’ve been a bloody idiot and never seen it before. But, Lauren, you’re lovely. You’ve been wonderful to me and Sam. And I think I’m in love with you.’

To his dismay, Lauren burst out laughing.

‘Now I’ve heard it all,’ she said. ‘You mean, you’re in love with the idea of me being a mum to Sam and looking after you. Go home, Joel. You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll see you on Monday and we’ll forget this conversation ever took place.’

‘Relight my fire!’ Kezzie was warbling with Flick. She was having a great time. She’d forgotten how much fun she’d had with her mates, and how much she missed them. She’d discussed the Richard situation with Flick endlessly, and they’d agreed there was probably no way back now; the thought made her feel bleak and lonely.

‘May I steal my lovely girlfriend?’ Gavin appeared by her side and whisked Flick away to dance.

Kezzie sighed. Much as she loved Gavin and Flick it was tough being around such happy couples when your own love life was so disastrous, no matter how much you loved them. She’d even seen Eileen and Tony, who were rather coy about their friendship, disappear off together.

Feeling sorry for herself, and hit by a sudden low, she wandered out to the garden to roll herself a joint. She’d promised Lauren she wouldn’t smoke around the kids, but they’d gone home some time ago. One couldn’t hurt, and it would soothe her fractious nerves. Kezzie sat down on the bench and rolled herself a spliff. She took a deep puff and sat back with her eyes shut, before exhaling slowly. Oh the glory of that first puff. Immediately she felt her worries recede and a calmness coming over her.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Troy appeared silently by her side.

Oh God, that was all she needed. What was he doing here?

‘I didn’t want to smoke inside,’ he said by way of explanation, taking out a light.

He glanced sneakily across at her. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

‘Might be,’ she said, touching her nose.

He gave her a long, sensuous look, which to her surprise made her shiver inside. He really did scrub up quite well. The thought made her giggle.

‘Care to share the joke?’

‘That’s for me to know and you to find out,’ Kezzie winked at him and took another puff. Suddenly the world seemed a happier place. She was at one with everything and feeling more relaxed than she had done all evening. She didn’t even mind that Troy was here. She’d thought him good looking when she first met him, but hadn’t realized quite how attractive he was.

‘It’ll cost you,’ she said with a grin.

‘Cost me what?’ he said softly, moving in slightly closer to her.

‘That depends …’ Kezzie was feeling reckless, she had a sudden impulsive feeling that anything was possible right now.

‘Are you flirting with me?’ Troy asked mock accusingly, leaning towards her in a highly suggestive way.

‘Might be,’ said Kezzie, leaning towards him in response. She felt a small tingle of excitement. He really was very sexy. She pushed the thought away, guiltily, remembering his past history with Lauren. Lauren was her mate, she really shouldn’t go there. ‘This is good stuff. Care to share?’

They shared the rest of the joint and Kezzie felt the world and her troubles disappear to a faraway shore.

She and Troy talked and talked. A rambling disconnected kind of conversation that seemed somehow effortlessly sublime and meaningful, as if they’d plumbed the depths of the universe. She was dimly aware that she felt quite pleasantly sleepy and Troy’s shoulder was very comfy. She came to with someone – Troy? – shaking her hard and saying, ‘You really need to go to bed.’

‘Bed. What a good idea.’ Kezzie suddenly woke up a little and giggled.

Lips on hers. A stubbly chin. A not unpleasant sensation. Hang on, what was going on? Oh.
That
was going on.

‘Troy, what are you doing?’ she said, but her words sounded far away, and she felt she was stuck in a tunnel, watching from a long distance as Troy took another Kezzie upstairs and laid her gently on the bed. The other Kezzie seemed out for the count. Sleep. An even better idea. Her vision slewed down to a single dot. ‘Night, night,’ she mumbled, and then everything went black.