Victoria Cooke - A Summer to Remember

I guess I can talk to Marty.

He looks at Barney. ‘Oh, and I already told you Marty couldn’t make it.’ Barney’s face is a picture. ‘Oh, I didn’t.’

‘You know what, Ethan is your friend, and I am someone you’ve just met and kindly invited out. You’ve every right to invite your friend for drinks.’ I can be civilised.

Barney seems to get a sudden whoosh of positive energy and sits upright. ‘Oh good, because he’s here.’

My insides wither as he approaches our table. He’s smiling at Barney. It makes his face look weird, completely different in fact, like a light has come on. When he catches sight of me the light goes out. ‘ You again,’ he says with disbelief.

‘Nice to see you too,’ I retort as he slides on to the bench opposite me.

‘Ethan, I got you a cocktail.’ Harry pushes his own glass over to Ethan, but Ethan’s eyes remain fixed on mine, even as he moves his hand to the drink and takes a sip. The golden light of the setting sun casts a glow across his face, illuminating him like an exhibit in a museum and his eyes shine like jewels.

‘Phew-ee, you could cut this tension with a knife,’ says Barney, flapping his hands around wildly. Ethan looks away, but his jaw is tense and the muscles twitch beneath his skin. My insides turn to lead. If he’s purposely trying to make me feel uncomfortable, it’s working and I can’t bear it. I’ll finish my drink and go.

‘Sorry, guys.’ Ethan’s face relaxes again. ‘I’ve just suffered an earful from her today.’ He nods at me as Barney and Harry, who are now flanking Ethan, each place a consoling hand on his shoulder and give him ‘there, there’ looks. Ethan’s solid frame doesn’t flinch, even though I suspect Harry and Barney (but mostly Barney) are enjoying the contact more than they should be.

‘Why don’t we clear the air?’ Harry suggests. I tilt my head to the side expectantly and Ethan sips his drink like he hasn’t got a care in the world. He’s infuriating.

‘For the sake of enjoying a few drinks in peace, I’m sorry,’ Ethan says, but there’s no feeling in it. He’s doing it purely for the benefit of his friends, and since I’m an outsider, I’m hardly going to make a big deal out of it. I’m going back to Boston tomorrow anyway.

‘For the sake of enjoying the rest of the evening, I accept.’ I hold out my glass and he clinks it.

‘Great,’ says Barney with an excited clap. ‘We just knew you two would get along.’ For someone who professes to be intuitive, he really isn’t.

The next few hours pass amicably. Harry and Barney flirt ostentatiously and without shame, both with each other and with Ethan. I pretend not to notice, but I get the feeling that Ethan actually doesn’t notice at all. He’s so sure of himself.

Harry slurps the last dregs of his cocktail and frowns, realising it’s all gone. ‘So, are you heading back to Boston tomorrow?’

‘Yes, let’s see if I can find my place.’ I wink.

‘You will. Think Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada ,’ he says with a wink.

‘At this point, I’d settle for Anne Hathaway’s role. I’ll just be happy if someone acknowledges my presence,’ I say.

Ethan snorts. ‘Huh! You’re definitely more of a Streep.’

‘Excuse me?’ I ask. He hasn’t spoken to me directly in over an hour, and when he does, he basically calls me a bitch.

‘Oh, come on. I was joking. That’s what we do, isn’t it?’

I’m a little bit lost for words. I wouldn’t exactly call it joking, it’s more of a strange bitterness between us. Whatever it is, it feels weird to address it, we don’t even know one another.

Ethan drains the last of his cocktail. ‘Anyway, Hathaway , tell me what’s happened?’ I look at him, shocked he even cares enough to ask and also slightly surprised he knows so much about the film. I assume he’s just making polite conversation for Barney and Harry’s benefit but explain regardless.

‘Well, that sucks. If you’ve been sent here, your boss back in England must think you’re up to the job.’

‘My thoughts exactly. You know, my impression of American men hasn’t been great. Present company excluded.’ I gesture to Barney and Harry. ‘You’re not excluded,’ I say to Ethan, but light-heartedly, since he’s making an effort and all.

‘Okay, okay. Look, I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did back in Boston. I was … having a bad day.’ The alcohol has obviously infused his system because he’s more relaxed now. He’s speaking to me like a human being, which I believe is progress.

‘It’s fine. It really doesn’t matter. I was perhaps a tad sensitive because I’d just arrived in the city all excited and you smothered my excitement with a huge wet blanket.’

‘Well. On that note …’ He claps his hands together. ‘I’m going to call it a night. Some of us need our beauty sleep.’ Ethan stands with one hand on Barney’s shoulder and the other on Harry’s. They both look delighted. On the other hand, I’m left feeling a little deflated. I opened up to Ethan to try and move on from our little spat and he basically ignored me. Just when I thought he might be decent too.

‘We’ll see you soon, honey,’ Barney says as Ethan walks off, taking away a strange feeling of tension with him. Now I can relax.

‘So how do you know Ethan?’ I ask, interested by the strange dynamic. I wonder if Ethan knows that these two fancy the pants off him. Maybe he’s gay, and he thought I was trying to flirt with him when I asked him to take the photo. Maybe he’s sick of women trying to come on to him. Not that I was, but he’s definitely cock-sure enough to have assumed so.

Barney wiggles into position to fill me in. ‘Ethan was one of the first people we met when we came here. His family own a lot of the local businesses, and he’s such a nice guy, he made us feel right at home.’

Really? ‘He doesn’t strike me as much of a talker.’

‘Granted, he’s a man of few words, but what he does say is kind and generous.’ Barney presses his palms to his cheeks. ‘He’s a manly man. A real alpha-male.’

I stifle a giggle.

‘He’s the best of the best.’ Harry smiles with warmth.

‘I’ll take your word for it.’ I drain the last of my drink. ‘I suppose I’d better go to bed too.’

Harry’s and Barney’s faces drop. ‘Oh, Sam, are you going to come back? We’re not going to lose you forever, are we?’ I giggle at Barney’s theatrics.

I’m sure Boston is great, but it’s lonely and I haven’t really felt at home there. Provincetown is beautiful, and even when I’ve been alone here, I haven’t felt lonely. The sound of the ocean, the friendly hellos from passers-by and the feeling of the warm sun together make for one big snuggly blanket of comfort. I would like to come back.

‘I hadn’t thought about it,’ I lie.

‘You must come back next weekend. We’re having a cookout on the beach, and everyone is invited,’ Barney says.

Next week will probably be as horrendous as the last and escaping to this beautiful, quaint little town will be a healthier equivalent of taking a few Xanax. Plus, these two let me vent.

‘That sounds fabulous. Are you sure I wouldn’t be imposing?’ I chew the side of my lip self-consciously.

‘Not at all. We’d love you to come,’ says Harry with sincerity.

The following week is just as horrible as I’d imagined it would be. I’m sent for coffee on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, and not one of my English colleagues speaks up or offers to go on my behalf, though I did think I caught a very subtle flash of sympathy from Tony. This lunchtime, I was sent on a sandwich run while the men were actually fleshing out key components of the media campaign. It was almost the final straw. I was going to stand up for myself and say something – part of me is still reeling that I didn’t – but throwing away the seven years of hard work it took to get here seemed too big a trade-off. Harry was right: I’ve got my place, but I need to work on getting a better one. I’ll bide my time and be smart about it.