Sue Moorcroft - A Summer to Remember

Genevieve did look at him this time. ‘It’s only half a mile. I’ll walk. Clancy’s pretty, isn’t she?’

He nodded, because he’d have been blind not to notice that. There was something in Genevieve’s expression that he didn’t particularly like. Jealousy? Suspicion? He was reasonably certain that he’d never told her about the episode in the darkness of his parents’ garden but had she picked up some lingering vibe between him and Clancy?

She began to turn away, and suddenly he found himself commenting, probably more bluntly than he should, ‘You don’t seem very happy that Clancy might have solved your accommodation issue.’ He hesitated, trying to find a way to put into non-contentious words something that had been bothering him. ‘You’ve always loved your cottage so much. I know it will be a wrench to leave it, even temporarily.’ So why angle to move in with me and make it sound permanent? was his subtext.

She sighed and answered. ‘Yes. But I suppose the problem has made me face things I hadn’t realised existed. It’s ended up being more about my future than about four walls … hasn’t it?’ Then she began striding away from him, her hair flying, head up as if she were confronting something other than the rain on her face. She didn’t offer him a kiss goodbye.

And Aaron didn’t mind that she hadn’t. He watched her go and knew they’d just acknowledged that the subsidence had been the cause of cracks in more than her cottage walls.

He drove to De Silva House, a solid, red-brick Victorian, the home still echoing in his imagination with childhood games shared with Lee in the tall rooms or the sprawling garden. Five granite steps swept up to the black front door, bay trees like sentries on either side, and each gracious bay window gleamed in the emerging sunshine. His father’s car was absent but Lee’s van was outside, indicating that Lee and their mum had returned from shopping.

Aaron found them in the kitchen. Four-year-old Daisy was helping put the shopping away by darting about to grab whatever caught her eye and getting under the feet of adults. It occurred to him that Daisy’s existence was something he hadn’t mentioned to Clancy. Probably just as well. She didn’t need additional emotional pressure right now.

‘Uncle Aaron!’ Daisy bellowed when she saw him, smile wide and arms out in the certainty of a good welcome.

‘Oof!’ He caught her in mid-air and swung her up. ‘Crazy Daisy!’

‘I want to say hello to Nelson,’ she said, trying to scramble down the instant she was up.

‘Sure thing.’ He set her carefully on her feet. ‘In fact, I think he wants you to take him in the garden and play tug o’ war with his rope toy.’

‘Yeah! I know where it is, don’t I, Granny? It’s in the utility room. C’mon, Nelson!’ She flew towards the next room, Nelson cantering gamely after.

‘Back garden only,’ Lee called after them. He turned to Aaron. ‘Want a beer?’

Aaron ignored his mother’s slight eye-roll and accepted. Though he’d been much more relaxed and carefree when he was younger, Lee had become a solemn man who took single fatherhood seriously, pragmatic about living with his parents until his place in Northamptonshire was sold. A beer or two with Aaron might be the social highlight of his week, particularly as Yvonne would be busy with Aunt Norma and less available for babysitting.

‘Thanks.’ Aaron took the proffered beer along with a seat at the table. ‘I’ve come to mention the new caretaker at Roundhouse Row. To everybody,’ he added.

Yvonne, busy stacking tins of soup in a cupboard, glanced over her shoulder. ‘I didn’t think you’d advertised.’

‘It became unnecessary.’ His words seemed to ring in his own ears as he added, ‘Clancy Moss has taken the position herself.’

Lee, who’d been making for another chair, halted.

Yvonne dropped a tin of soup with a clang. ‘Why on earth do you want her to do it?’ she demanded.

Aaron’s eyes remained on Lee. ‘I would have avoided it if I could.’

Although he’d paled, Lee remained composed. ‘OK, thanks for telling me.’ He looked at the bottle in his hand and then around the kitchen as if suddenly struggling to remember where he was or what he was doing. ‘I’ll just go and check Daisy’s OK.’

When the back door had closed behind him, Yvonne rounded on Aaron, pink and damp-eyed. ‘This won’t be good for Lee. Can you stop her?’

Aaron sighed. ‘No. She has as much say in it as I do.’ He deliberated over how much to reveal. ‘She’s not here to make trouble, Mum. From what she told me, she’s had a hard time of it and hasn’t got many places to go. Lee seemed to take it OK. Let’s not make a big deal out of it, in case he gets anxious.’

Yvonne gazed at him, eyes dark with worry. ‘We certainly don’t want that.’

On Monday morning Clancy awoke in an unfamiliar bed in the only-slightly familiar room and the memory of why she was there crashed in on her.

Will.

Renée.

Will with Renée. The images of them together flashed before her eyes.

Stop it! she told herself sternly. She was in a new bed in her new room. She had a new life in a tiny jewel of a village high up above the sea. A wedge of sunlight sliced through the dormer window onto the floor, as if tempting her to get up and warm her feet on the wooden boards. Once that was accomplished, getting on with the day became easier.

First job when she got downstairs: sit down and write a shopping list.

Bedclothes

Towels

Curtains (downstairs and loft)

A rap at the front door made her drop her pen and jump up to answer, expecting it to be Aaron, though it was fifteen minutes earlier than they’d arranged. But when she threw the door open it was to find a woman standing there, her curls dancing in the breeze. ‘Hello, Clancy. I thought it best if we cleared the air.’

Clancy stepped back, feeling her cheeks heating up. ‘Oh! Mrs De Silva. Yvonne. Come in.’ The De Silvas must truly still be harbouring ill-feeling towards Alice and her family if air-clearing had to be done.

Yvonne looked strained and pinched. She stepped inside, her gaze roaming around the big echoing space of the ground floor in which the few pieces of furniture now in Clancy’s care were almost lost. She wasted no time getting down to business. ‘Are you absolutely sure about living here?’ Her hair was untidy. Not the tousled look her son carried off so well, but more the bedhead style of someone who hadn’t been able to wait to come and air her concerns.

Clancy had been about to offer her a cup of tea, but Yvonne’s words made her suspect it wasn’t going to be a long visit. ‘Nearly sure,’ she answered, honestly.

‘I see.’ Yvonne gazed at Clancy, her dark eyes tired. ‘I won’t beat about the bush. I’m worried. When Alice left so cruelly Lee was so hurt … I was terrified at the way he crashed, emotionally. I thought he’d end up in either the psychiatric ward or the morgue. It destroys you to see your child that way and know someone else is responsible.’