Julia Williams - Midsummer Magic

‘I’d rather have a pint,’ said Ant. Good. True to form.

‘A walk would be great,’ said Josie. ‘We can get up to the Faerie Ring from the footpath at the end of the lane, walk along the cliff edge and then make our way down to the village, and have a pint in the Lover’s Rest. It’ll only take us an hour or so. And it’s a glorious day.’

Diana frantically tried to signal to Josie that this wasn’t her intention, but Josie was looking fixedly at Harry, as if to say, Don’t you dare think about going straight to the pub. Harry clearly understood the look, because he responded with, ‘A walk sounds like a brilliant idea.’

Great. Now Ant would feel obliged to come.

‘I suppose we could stretch our legs,’ said Ant. ‘So what’s this Faerie Ring place then?’

‘They’re a bunch of Standing Stones on the cliff,’ explained Josie. ‘Local legend says magic happens there on Midsummer’s Eve.’

‘Don’t tell me, young lovers plight their troth while fairies dance around them,’ snorted Ant.

‘Something like that,’ admitted Josie. ‘All nonsense of course.’

‘How about it, Di,’ Ant said slyly. ‘Fancy finding yourself a red-hot lover on the cliffs at midnight?’

‘I think the key word that is wrong in that sentence is lover,’ said Diana sarcastically. ‘And until you can find me a red-hot lover worthy of me, I can safely say the answer is no.’

‘As if I’d be interested in you,’ said Ant. ‘You clearly still have no sense of humour.’

‘Not for puerile infants, no,’ said Diana. She was furious. A couple of hours in Ant’s company was all it had taken her to remind him what a prick he was.

‘Woah! Children!’ said Josie. ‘What is it with you two?’

‘Nothing!’ said Diana and Ant, simultaneously glaring at one another.

‘Okay point taken,’ said Josie throwing her hands up, and tactfully changing the subject, to Diana’s relief. She sighed deeply. She couldn’t wait for the weekend to be over.

But, as they set off down the lane that led past Josie’s house to the footpath that took them up to the cliffs, Diana felt a bit better. The hedgerows were alive with birdsong, and the air heavy with scent from the riot of wildflowers that lined the path: the pinks and whites of scarlet pimpernels and red campions jostled with blue mallow and purple speedwell and other flowers Di couldn’t identify. There was barely a cloud in the azure sky, and the sun was so warm, they soon discarded cardigans and jumpers. She breathed a deep sigh of contentment. It was great to be away from London for once and the tension that she’d left behind at work.

‘This way,’ said Josie, confidently leading them over a stile which led onto a sandy cliff path, where the foliage gave way to yellow gorse, green bracken and pink heathers, and tall cow parsley bowed down in the breeze. It was a steepish climb, but with the wind on her face and the sun on her skin, Diana was beginning to enjoy herself – until she caught sight of Ant whispering to Harry, and glancing in her direction. She felt sure it was about her, and her stomach plummeted. How utterly miserable. To think she not only had to spend a whole weekend with him but also a whole wedding, when she’d be forced to be nice to him. Diana couldn’t think of anything worse.

‘So what’s the deal with you and Di, then?’ Harry said as he and Ant forged their way up the cliff path. After the little display of histrionics between them, he and Josie had decided it would be better for now if they kept their warring friends apart.

‘Dynamite Di?’ said Ant, looking back down the path at her, affecting nonchalance. ‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Didn’t look like nothing to me,’ said Harry. ‘You reacted like a scalded cat when you saw her.’

Ant stopped to take a breather and stared back at the lane, Josie’s house reflecting the sunshine in the distance.

‘We knew each other a long time ago. Had a bit of a thing. Didn’t work out.’

‘Which is why you’re so down on her,’ snorted Harry, not believing a word of it, and feeling more convinced than ever, she was the one. He paused too and took a sip of the water he had thought to bring in his small backpack. It was hot work climbing the path. Last time he’d done this walk it had been in the winter and much easier.

‘I’m not down on her,’ protested Ant. ‘You’ve seen the way she is with me. She’s a cow of the highest order. Can’t think why someone as nice as Josie could be mates with someone as chippy as Di.’

‘Oh, Di’s okay,’ said Harry, ‘and she’s been a good friend to Josie; really helped her through some tough times. So do me a favour, mate, and be nice to her. Just for the weekend. If not for me, do it for Josie.’

‘All right,’ said Ant. ‘Anything you say.’

The sun was out and the walk was invigorating. Soon they’d reached the top of the cliffs, and could look out to sea. To their left, the green of the cliffs fell away to the sea, and the path led down towards the dip where the Standing Stones stood, hidden from sight from this angle. To their right, a path led to down to a little cove in the distance. Boats on their way back to Tresgothen bobbed on the turquoise-green sea below, and seagulls keened in the sea breeze. The sparkling blue-green waves, dancing in the sunshine, looked really inviting. Harry had the mad impulse to throw himself off the edge. Here, out in the fresh air on such a glorious sunny day, Harry had a sudden urge to get away from everything, to be free. He’d had the feeling for a while now: that life was becoming more constricted, constrained, even. Particularly since Ant had been back, and Harry had listened to his travelling tales with increasing envy. The lure of going abroad was rearing its head again. And today, the thought of diving out, getting away , suddenly seemed irresistible. Particularly when they reached the famed Faerie Ring, which stood in a dip, a slight way from the cliff.

Approaching them, Harry, who wasn’t often given to fanciful notions, felt a shiver go down his spine. The stones were so old, and weathered; had stood here for generations, through wind and shine. It wasn’t hard to think somehow there was something deeply magical here.

‘Well, go on then,’ said Di, pushing Josie at Harry. ‘Time to plight your troth. It will bring you luck at your wedding.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ said Josie, ‘it’s only a silly superstition. And you have to do it at midnight on Midsummer’s Eve. Plus, you need love-in-idleness.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Ant.

‘A flower; a sort of wild pansy,’ said Josie. ‘The legend goes that if your true love picks love-in-idleness at midsummer, your love will be eternal.’

‘Oh, that is so romantic,’ Di clapped her hands together with glee. ‘I do love all these old tales.’

Harry could see they were both angling for him to say something, but he laughed it off and said, ‘I wouldn’t know a wild pansy from a geranium,’ till Di said lightly, ‘See, there are some growing here, by this stone.’

At that moment, he could have cheerfully strangled her. It had been the same, the day he’d proposed. That had been Di’s doing too. Would he even have thought about marriage without Di’s interference? Sometimes he wondered. To Josie’s evident dismay, he laughed it off, saying, ‘We’ve got two days to Midsummer’s Eve, I’d hate to get it wrong, and anyway, as Josie says, it’s all nonsense.’ He tried to ignore her hurt look as he strode through the Standing Stones and made his way to the path that led back to the town. It was just a silly local legend. She must see that. So why did he feel so guilty?

Ant’s bad mood had dissipated as the afternoon wore on. True, he still had to spend the weekend with Di, but despite moaning about it, he did enjoy a blow in the country, something he didn’t get to do very often now he was working back in the big smoke. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful summer’s day, and it was hard to stay cross for long. Besides, Peter had given him a great tip for an investment. He’d checked it out and it seemed sound. He was still reeling from the thrill of having had a chat with the Peter Hampton. It was the stuff that dreams were made of.