Victoria Cooke - A Summer to Remember

Victoria Cookegrew up in the city of Manchester before crossing the Pennines in pursuit of her career in education. She now lives in Huddersfield with her husband and two young daughters. When she’s not at home writing by the fire with a cup of coffee in hand, she loves working out in the gym and travelling. Victoria has always had a passion for reading and writing, undertaking several writers’ courses before completing her first novel in 2016.

‘An unputdownable read’

Rachel Burton

‘A true love story’

Amazon Reviewer

‘I couldn’t put it down’

Jessica Bell

‘Delightful contemporary romance’

Amazon Reviewer

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HQ

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019

Copyright © Victoria Cooke 2019

Victoria Cooke asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © July 2019 ISBN: 9780008310264

Version: 2019-06-13

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Why readers and authors love Victoria Cooke!

Also by Victoria Cooke

Title page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Extract

Dear Reader …

Keep Reading …

About the Publisher

For my nanna, Lillian.

For your sense of humour, strength and determination.

xxx

The black and white chequered floor whizzes past. Like a psychedelic trip, it isn’t real. I know that I’m running. I can’t feel my limbs moving, just the vague sensation of the air resistance caused by the motion. I’m on autopilot, and the only thing tying me to the reality of where I am, is the pungent smell of disinfectant that’s been with me at every turn.

I stop abruptly, almost colliding with a person dressed head-to-toe in baggy green scrubs. My heart pounds in my chest. I look down at my hand, the knuckles white, still clutching my phone from when I got the call. It can only have been twenty minutes ago. It’s hard to tell because it feels like a lifetime has passed. The surgeon seems to understand that I can’t speak; his features are barely displaced, neutral, but there’s something lurking in his earthy eyes. Sympathy? ‘Mrs Butterfield?’ he asks. I nod, my mouth like Velcro, my brain too disengaged to speak.

‘Mrs Butterfield, I’m sorry. We did everything we could.’

Did?

You can’t have.

The blood pumping in my ears is deafening. Barbed wire is wrenched from the pit of my stomach, right up through my oesophagus. I’ve never felt pain like it. My legs give way, unable to bear the weight of the surgeon’s words and my knees crash to the floor.

I’m vaguely aware of a low, drawn-out wail. It’s me. The surgeon crouches down and looks me directly in the eyes. The warmth of his chestnut-brown gaze anchors me, and I’m able to gather tendrils of composure. I take a breath.

‘Mrs Butterfield, is there anyone we can call for you?’

I shake my head. I only have one person, and now he’s dead.

‘Eurgh.’ I slam the pearlescent invite down by the kettle. ‘ Plus one ,’ I say in a mocking tone. Coco cocks her head to the side like she’s trying to understand me, and I cup her fluffy face.

‘I know, I don’t get it either.’ My cat’s emerald eyes are still intent on me so, glad of an audience, I carry on.

‘Why Bridget has to assume I need someone by my side is beyond me. As if I’m not capable of going to a wedding without a plus one . It’s not nineteen blooming twenty. I don’t need a chaperone. Perhaps I’ll take you, Coco. That’ll teach her.’ I tickle her under her chin and she stretches out lazily. I’m only half joking.

As I pour my first coffee of the day, my phone rings. ‘Someone’s ears are burning,’ I say on answering.

‘Really?’ Bridget also ignores the need for pleasantries.

‘I got your wedding invite,’ I say dryly.

‘Well, don’t sound too enthusiastic about the happiest day of your best friend’s life,’ she retorts.

‘Aren’t we a bit old for best friends?’

‘Don’t change the subject.’

I rub my temples with my thumb and forefinger. ‘I’m sorry, Bridge. I just, well … I’d specifically told you I didn’t need a plus one.’

‘It’s just a formality, Sam. Don’t be so sensitive. I just wanted you to know the option is there if you did want to bring someone.’

‘Well, I don’t,’ I say, before feeling a little guilty. ‘It just seems so old-fashioned, like, the lil lady needs a gentleman to escort her.’ I put on my best ‘Southern Belle’ accent, and Bridget giggles.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘It wasn’t meant to offend you.’

‘I did warn you,’ I scold. ‘Look, I’m not on the lookout for a man, nor am I resigned to being alone – I’m happy with it. People need to stop assuming I need someone. I got the bloody cat everyone thought I should get, okay!’

‘I know, I’m sorry. Everyone else will be coupled up, so I just thought if you wanted to bring a friend , then you could, that’s all.’

‘All of my friends will already be there.’ I’m aware of my exasperated tone so I soften it a little. ‘I was just telling Coco that she could be my plus one.’

‘You’d better bloody well not.’ Bridget’s stern tone amuses me. I sense that she wouldn’t put it past me.