A Summer to Remember

Dedication

I’d like to dedicate this book to Jill Saint and to take this opportunity to remember her wonderful mother, the writer Dora Saint (1913–2012), whose ‘Miss Read’ books are a constant source of joy and inspiration to me.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Acknowledgements

About the Author

By the Same Author

Copyright

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Nina Elliot glanced at the clock on the wall above the filing cabinet, willing the hands to turn a little quicker. The tiny office was so hot. The air-conditioning had broken yet again and the warm spring weather had sent indoor temperatures soaring. Or perhaps it was just Nina’s inner rage that was making her feel decidedly uncomfortable.

She looked across her paper-strewn desk towards her boss on the other side of the room.

‘No, I’ve told you that’s not good enough!’ she was yelling into the telephone. ‘Listen to me – why does nobody listen to me?’

Nina zoned out as the person on the other end of the line got their ear chewed off. She’d been working for Hilary Jackson in the marketing department of a doctors’ locum agency for ten months now and, as far as she was concerned, it was ten months too long. Her previous boss had been a sweet woman called Melanie Philips, who’d worn pink chiffon scarves and rose-scented perfume, and had never batted a blue-shaded eyelid if her staff were running late after their lunch break. The work would get done eventually, she reasoned, but let’s have a nice cup of Earl Grey first, shall we?

Melanie Philips was one of those people who seemed lit from within, Nina had often thought, but motherhood had called and the dark shadow of Hilary Jackson had descended.

Hilary Jackson was a tall, thin, rake-like woman with a pale face devoid of both make-up and humanity. She dressed in sombre-coloured clothing, which usually consisted of a navy trouser suit or, if she was in a more buoyant mood, pale grey. Today, it was the turn of the navy trouser suit.

Nina sighed and then gulped as Hilary put down the phone.

‘Have you got hold of Keith Maltby yet?’ she barked across the room.

‘I spoke to his assistant ten minutes ago,’ Nina told her.

‘Well, why hasn’t he called me back?’ Hilary said. ‘This is very important, Nina, or don’t you understand that? I have to speak to him now!’

‘I’ve left three messages for him,’ Nina explained. ‘His assistant said that he—’

‘Honestly! I sometimes think you’re trying to ruin this company, I really do! You can’t seem to do anything right. I always end up having to do everything myself. And where’s my tea? I asked you hours—’

‘It’s on your desk,’ Nina said, deciding it was her turn to interrupt.

‘Oh,’ Hilary said, momentarily floored. ‘Well, it’s stone cold now, isn’t it? Get me another and be careful not to add too much sugar. I’m sure you do it on purpose sometimes.’

‘Yes, your majesty,’ Nina whispered under her breath as she left the office and went into the tiny communal kitchen to make yet another cup of tea for her boss. Her hazel eyes felt dry and gritty, her shoulders felt tense and she knew she had knots in her back the size of golf balls.

This is no way to live, a little voice inside her said, the thought occurring to her for the first time. You’ve got to do something. You can’t stay here or you’ll go mad!

Her mind spiralled across the long, weary months of working for Hilary Jackson and the countless infuriating things she’d been made to do. Like when she’d worked through an entire weekend whilst her boss sauntered off to some holistic retreat. Or the way Hilary gave her impossible deadlines to meet whilst screaming at her so much that Nina would invariably leave for home in tears.

She looked at her watch now. It was lunchtime. She’d deliver Hilary’s fourth cup of tea and then she’d get out of there. She’d feel better once she was outside.

Stepping out into the street five minutes later, Nina breathed deeply as she forced herself to calm down.

Count to ten. Empty your mind. Calm down.

The mantra only occasionally worked around Hilary Jackson, but it was worth trying.

Her foot had just left the pavement when she heard the car horn. Startled out of her trance, she turned around, her fair hair swinging about her face as she glared at the offending driver.

For a moment, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Standing as if rooted to the spot, Nina looked into the window of the white car and thought she recognised the man at the wheel. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark mood. He didn’t smile, and the ensuing blasts from angry drivers urged her to make her mind up quickly.

Nina’s heart raced as she jumped back onto the pavement, just as the car swerved to avoid her. That, she thought, was a close call. She shook her head at her stupidity, cursing herself at the danger she’d put herself in because of her inner turmoil.

Taking a deep breath, she crossed the road safely and, once she was on the other side, glanced back over her shoulder to get another look at the driver, but the car had moved on.

‘Calm down,’ she told herself again. ‘You’ve got to calm down, otherwise you’ll have a heart attack before you reach thirty.’

She took another deep breath and cursed herself silently, knowing that, on top of her problems at work, she was still shaken from the night before and what had happened with her boyfriend Matt. They’d been together for four years but, as far as Nina was concerned, it was over. She could still see his face now, ashen and furious, his eyes burning with anger as she’d told him how she felt and how she couldn’t go on in a relationship with him.

‘I won’t let you do this to me, Nina,’ he’d told her as she’d stood in his flat, desperate to leave.

But the thing was, Nina wasn’t going to allow him to do—

She paused. Allow him to do what? She didn’t have the words to explain it, even to herself. All she knew was that this man made her feel miserable. Perhaps it was a kind of abuse she experienced with him – an emotional abuse. One thing was for sure – he made her feel worthless and deeply unhappy by the things that he did and the things that he said to her. A romantic relationship wasn’t meant to be like that, was it? She was pretty sure that she was an average woman, without too many unrealistic expectations when it came to the opposite sex, but surely she should at least feel happy with her chosen partner and not live in dread of what he might do or say next.

She swallowed hard as she remembered all the times he’d made her cry with his belittling comments. He always had to be in control of her – making her say and do things to please him, and she went along with it just to keep the peace and to placate him. But she’d been living a lie. For all those years, she’d been living a lie. Well, she’d finally vowed to herself that it was over and that she’d never let something like that happen to her again. Not ever. She was free from the hold he’d had over her, and she was going to put him out of her mind for good now. In fact, she’d rather not think about men at all at the moment. She had enough on her plate as it was.

‘Talk to Janey,’ Nina told herself, thinking of the dear friend she’d arranged to meet for lunch. Janey had an answer to every question and a solution to every problem. Walking through the main door of The Black Horse, she saw her perched on a barstool, and let out a loud sigh of relief.

‘Was that you being tooted at?’ Janey asked through a mouthful of salt and vinegar crisps.

‘Some idiot almost crashed at the traffic lights,’ Nina rolled her eyes, not wishing to acknowledge the fact that it had been her fault. ‘It’s been one of those days,’ she said, sitting down heavily on the barstool next to her friend.

Janey stared at her with undisguised horror. ‘God, Nina! You could plant potatoes in that forehead of yours. Are you okay?’

Nina gave a smile that only just began to unfurrow her brow. ‘Actually, it’s not just been one of those days – it’s been one of those months. Still, I shouldn’t be doing this, you know.’

‘Doing what exactly?’

‘Drinking during my lunch hour,’ she said with a little laugh.

‘Oh, it’s only one,’ Janey encouraged. ‘I’ve ordered our lunch to help soak it up, so it won’t do you any real harm. Anyway, you look as if you need it.’

‘I certainly do,’ Nina said, her eyes widening until she looked positively possum-like.

‘So, what is it? Why the phone call at that ungodly hour this morning?’

‘I’m so sorry about that,’ Nina said. ‘I just needed to see you today.’

‘You don’t have to apologise,’ Janey said sweetly. ‘I’m not blaming the bags under my eyes on you.’ Janey grinned but Nina didn’t respond. ‘Tell me,’ she prompted, obviously wondering what it was that had cost Nina her smile.

Their drinks arrived and Nina took a sip of her white wine, letting the sweet liquid flow into her system, her bright eyes seeming to focus on something that wasn’t quite present.

‘I’ve broken up with Matt,’ she said at last.

‘What?’ Janey almost choked at the impact of her words.

Nina shifted her weight on the stool. ‘It’s been building up for some time now and it just wasn’t working.’

‘Are you kidding? You two were brilliant together! Matt was – well, he was so charming and handsome and—’ Janey paused to find the right word, ‘perfect.’

Nina visibly flinched. ‘No,’ she said quietly, ‘not perfect.’ For a moment, she thought of her first few magical dates with Matt, when he had completely swept her off her feet with his good looks, his wit and his charm. Like Janey, she’d sincerely thought he’d been perfect, but she soon realised that nobody was perfect and it had been only a few weeks later that she’d seen the true Matt.

He’d been the sort of person who found it so easy to make friends because he had an uncanny ability to charm anybody he liked, but that charm would evaporate in private to reveal the real him – the cruel, controlling Matt that most of the world never saw.

‘Well, what then? Was he seeing someone else?’ Janey tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and looked closely at her. ‘You two have been together for longer than I can remember. I think I’ve worked my way through half a dozen relationships in the time you’ve been a couple and I always thought—’ she paused.

‘What?’ Nina asked softly.

‘I don’t know,’ Janey said, a wistful expression on her face, ‘just that I’d be throwing confetti over the pair of you before too long.’

Nina suddenly felt guilty for never having confided in her friend before, and suddenly wondered why that was. But, deep down, she knew why she’d kept quiet – because she’d blamed herself for the problems with Matt and had stupidly gone on believing that things would get better. Only they hadn’t, and she’d finally realised that she had to put a stop to things.

Nina blinked hard, trying to prevent her tears from spilling. She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to cry because she’d wanted this to happen; she’d made it happen by instigating the break-up with Matt, and yet the huge swelling of unhappiness that filled her shocked her to the core.

‘Do you mind if we change the subject?’ She looked at Janey and, for a moment, neither said anything.

‘Okay,’ Janey whispered, sensing her friend’s discomfort. ‘But that’s not all that’s bugging you, is it?’

Nina shook her head. ‘Like I said last night – my whole life’s a mess.’

‘Come on then – let’s hear it,’ Janey took a sip of wine, as if she needed fortifying before hearing Nina’s next confession.

‘Work,’ Nina said, making the word sound as if it were some newly discovered disease.

‘Well, that makes a change,’ Janey said with a tut.

‘I nearly walked out this morning,’ Nina confessed, closing her eyes and reliving the nightmare again.

‘Why didn’t you, then?’ Janey asked, having long been aware of Nina’s ability to aspire to something rather than to act.

‘But where would I walk to?’

‘God – you’re always so practical!’ Janey chided. ‘You spend far too much time thinking, and not enough time doing. Sometimes you should just go for it.’

Nina sighed. ‘That’s easy for you to say. You’ve got a great job. But not everyone’s dad owns a travel agency and sends his daughter to Greece every other week.’

‘Hey – that’s research for our new brochure!’

‘You’re the only person I know who hasn’t experienced a British winter for the past ten years,’ Nina said good-naturedly.

Janey giggled. ‘I know. I’ve been lucky.’

‘Yes, you have,’ Nina smiled, ‘but you deserve it. The most exotic place I get to visit is the local sandwich bar whenever her ladyship wants a BLT. Other than that, it’s the photocopy room or, on a good day, the stock cupboard. I wouldn’t mind so much if she was civil to me.’

‘She’s a cow!’ Janey stated with a frown.

‘Janey!’ Nina said in a reprimanding tone, although she was laughing, too.

‘Oh, you’re such a saint, Nina, but Hilary Jackson would even make a saint swear. Why don’t you admit it – she’s a complete bitch who doesn’t value you a jot!’

‘Oh, Janey!’ Nina couldn’t help giggling at her friend’s passionate defence of her.

‘What about when she made you take that enormous file home to put all those invoices into date order?’

‘I know, but I guess it was a job that had to be done,’ Nina said with a shrug, before taking the biggest sip of wine she could.

‘Yes, but in company time – not when you had a girls’ night out planned. I bet she didn’t pay you overtime for it either, did she?’

Nina shook her head. ‘No, she didn’t,’ she said, realising that she had been trampled on for so long that even her friend had noticed. Why oh why hadn’t she done anything about it before, she wondered? But perhaps the time was now. After all, she had taken control and ended things with Matt, so surely she could do the same with Hilary, she reasoned. This, she realised, could be a whole new beginning for her.

‘And remember when she swore at you for sending that letter to the wrong director – which was her fault anyway because she couldn’t ever get her facts straight.’

Nina sighed. ‘I know, I know!’

‘And there’s no need for her to be so rude to you all the time. That woman’s got more hard edges than a Neolithic flint! It’s not on.’ Janey shook her head in despair. ‘So what are we going to do about it?’

‘I don’t know – something,’ Nina said, suddenly hiccupping.

‘Oh, no, Nina – not hiccups again! That’s another thing too. I never knew you to hiccup before you took that dreadful job.’

‘Of course I hiccupped! Everyone hiccups.’

‘Yes, but not like that. Not with nervous tension.’

‘It’s not nervous tension. It’s probably just wine,’ Nina said, giving her loudest hiccup yet.

‘You know what you should do, of course? You should just tell Hilary Jackson where she can stick her job and leave,’ Janey advised, getting into her stride as agony aunt.

‘You think so?’ Nina said, a tiny smile emerging at last.

‘Yes I do.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that. Clear your desk out, tell her what you really think of her and go. Easy. You’re far too good to be stuck in that box with Hilary forever. You’re intelligent, attractive—’

‘Soon-to-be unemployed—’ Nina hiccupped again.

‘No! You’ve got to be positive about this. Employers will be trampling over each other to get you on board.’ Janey smiled encouragingly, not happy at seeing her friend so down. ‘Come on, Nina! You’ve been depressed about this for months now. Something’s got to change, hasn’t it? What’s happened to the old girl I know and love – eh? The girl whose picture is in the dictionary under “vivacious”?’

Nina rolled her eyes in disbelief.

‘Well, obviously not today,’ Janey agreed, and a moment’s silence elapsed. ‘Okay,’ Janey began again, ‘let me put it this way. In an ideal world – what would you do? If you could do anything – what would it be?’

Nina looked into her wine glass. What did she want? What did she truly want? She knew it had nothing to do with the present life she was leading, but was an alternative life waiting out there for her? One in which she was truly valued for whom she was? She looked up at Janey.

‘I’d like to go back to the office and press Hilary’s delete button.’

Janey laughed, not really expecting Nina to come out with such an answer. ‘Then do it!’

‘I don’t know. I’ve always been taught not to throw too much caution to the wind in case it changes direction and slaps you in your face.’

‘Look,’ Janey said, placing a tanned hand on Nina’s right shoulder, ‘I think you’ve already made up your mind about this, haven’t you?’

‘Have I?’

‘Yes – you have,’ Janey said, giving her friend’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘So, you might as well try and have a bit of fun. Just repeat after me: “I’m going to tell Hilary where she can stick her job.” Go on!’

‘I’m going to tell Hilary where she can stick her job,’ Nina repeated obediently, suppressing a particularly large hiccup.

Janey smiled. ‘But first, we’re going to have another drink.’

Chapter Two

Dominic Milton had almost crashed the car at the traffic lights. It had been her, hadn’t it, dancing through the traffic like a ballerina? The same Sahara-blonde bob, swinging neat as a pendulum. The same lovely face with eyes wide and inquisitive. The face he remembered with such affection from over a decade ago. Nina Elliot.

He arrived home, parking his old Volkswagen in the last available space. It was a large driveway by normal standards, but now that both he and Alex had cars as well as their parents, parking was in pecking order, which meant that Dominic was often forced to park further down the lane.

He turned the engine off and sat looking over the dashboard for a moment, remembering the way that Nina had looked at him, accusingly, unknowingly. She hadn’t recognised him, had she?

He sighed and got out of his car. His mother was home. She’d remember Nina. Ambling up the driveway, shopping bag in hand, he fished for his key and opened the front door.

‘Dom, is that you? Dominic?’ his mother’s voice sang through from the kitchen above the sound of a dog barking.

‘Yes.’

‘Did you get my hairspray?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, reaching into the carrier bag for the golden can. He looked at the price sticker and grimaced, wondering if there was such a thing as a drying-out clinic for cosmetic addicts.

‘You’re an angel,’ Olivia Milton said as she walked into the hallway, kissing her son on the cheek. She smelt wonderful, she always did. It was like nothing he’d ever smelt anywhere else; a sort of condensed talcum powder mixed with old roses. Intoxicating, and as much a part of Olivia as her pearl accessories and high heels.

‘I’ve had such a morning – you wouldn’t believe it! Firstly, Andrea Giles phoned telling me there’s been a crisis and that we’ve lost the speaker for the fundraising dinner we’ve got next week, so I’ve been telephoning everyone in my phone book trying to find somebody else who’s both suitable and available. Then I was trying to make a list of everything we need to organise for this anniversary party and my head was spinning at the enormity of it when your father blasts into the room, accusing me of having moved part of his manuscript. “I haven’t been anywhere near your manuscript!” I told him. I wouldn’t dare, Dommie! He bites my head off if I so much as knock on his study door. Honestly, he really needs a secretary or something. He’s quite impossible!’

Dominic grinned, knowing just how difficult his father could be when he was writing his novel and just how melodramatic his mother could be when trying to deal with him.

‘I’m sure everything will work itself out,’ he told her.

It was then that a large fluffy dog tore out of the kitchen, launching itself into the air and crashing into Dominic in his own doggy greeting.

‘Oh, Ziggy!’ Dominic cried, pushing the dog down.

‘He’d absolutely love a walk, Dom!’ Olivia said.

‘You mean you haven’t walked him yet?’

‘I took him out in the garden but you know how he is in the fields. He just drags me along behind him like a ragdoll!’ Olivia said with a sigh.

‘I don’t know why you got him, Mum,’ Dominic said. ‘He’s completely crazy.’

She ruffled the dog’s head. ‘I just couldn’t say no to that face, could I?’ she said in the kind of voice she reserved for animals and small children.

‘You’ve got to get him trained,’ Dominic said, remembering the day five months ago when his mother had arrived home with the out-of-control puppy.

‘I know, I know,’ Olivia said, removing the portion of skirt that had found its way into Ziggy’s mouth before pushing him away from her and turning her attention to her son once more. ‘You all right, Dom?’ she asked, breaking his train of thought.

Dominic looked at his mother. ‘Do you remember Nina?’

‘Nina?’ Olivia walked over to the hall mirror, shook her head upside down and applied a heavy mist of hairspray to her thick red hair.

‘Our babysitter from years ago,’ he added.

‘Oh – Neee-na!’ she stood back up to full height. ‘Well, of course I remember her! She was that lovely girl who looked after you and Alex for – let me see – it must have been at least four years.’

Dominic nodded. ‘That’s right.’

‘Gosh, you were such a cute little boy,’ Olivia said, patting his cheek.

‘I wish you wouldn’t do that, Mum,’ Dominic complained. ‘I’m twenty-one, for goodness’ sake.’

‘Never too old for a bit of motherly affection!’ she said. ‘Anyway, what’s all this about Nina?’

‘I just saw her in town,’ Dominic said.

‘Really? How is she?’

‘No, I didn’t speak to her. I nearly ran her over.’

‘WHAT?’ Olivia shrieked. ‘Is she all right?’

‘Yes, of course she’s all right,’ Dominic said, but felt a pang of guilt as he realised that perhaps he should have stopped the car to find out. Too late now, though. ‘Anyway, I thought you might want to invite her to the anniversary party in August.’