A Summer Scandal: The perfect summer read by the author of One Day in December. Kat French

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СКАЧАТЬ fished her keys from her pocket as they approached her car.

      Barty ran his hand appreciatively over the polished wood on the Traveller. ‘It’s admirable that you don’t feel obliged to follow the trends, Violet.’

      Violet slid into the driver’s seat and reached across to open his door, aware that he’d dodged answering her question. She didn’t push it; if he’d been here long enough to know her grandparents, he’d obviously spent a large part of his life here.

      He rubbed his hands together briskly as she started the engine and reversed, then nosed her way along the seafront towards the pier.

      ‘Which way?’

      Barty inclined his head across the strip of grass that served as a central reservation, towards a building fronting the main road. Following his nod, Violet scanned the scene and found herself gazing at a tall pale-brick villa, double-fronted and far more grand and ornate than she’d anticipated. Stone steps led up to the wide, central front door, flanked on either side by graceful white pillars. Curved bay windows ran up the full height of each floor of the building, and up on the very top gutters, large, white letters proudly spelt out ‘The Lido’.

      ‘You weren’t kidding when you said it wasn’t far,’ she murmured, taken aback. She’d imagined that the apartment would be somewhere tucked away at the back of Swallow Beach, not in the grandest building on the seafront. How frankly fabulous.

      ‘Where’s best to park?’

      Barty directed her down a side street. ‘There’s a car park around the back for residents.’

      Residents. Was she really to be a resident in such a gorgeous place, albeit only for a summer? Following Barty’s direction, Vi turned in behind the building and found a well-cared-for, almost empty car park. Even the back of the building was lovely, a rose garden already in early bloom beside the back door.

      ‘Does it matter where I park?’ she asked, keen not to wind anyone up on day one by parking in their space.

      Barty wrinkled his nose. ‘Most people are at work, I expect; park wherever takes your fancy. Have to fight them off with a stick in the summer, mind.’ His hand was already opening the door, and he turned away to unfold his tall frame from the low passenger seat.

      Sucking down a deep breath for courage, Violet swung her door wide and followed suit.

      Following Barty through the back door, Violet found herself inside the ground-floor lobby, light and bright thanks to the many stained windows surrounding the front door and the freshly painted white woodwork on the gracefully sweeping staircase and two apartment doors, one either side of the tiled vestibule. Gold numbers on the doors declared them 1 and 2.

      ‘This is mine,’ Barty said, nodding towards number 1. ‘And that one belongs to Keris, my granddaughter.’

      Vi’s jaw dropped. ‘You live here?’

      He threw his hands out. ‘So it would seem. Cup of mint tea?’

      Vi narrowed her eyes. ‘That’s my favourite.’

      Barty looked at her steadily, half smiling. ‘Who knew?’

      You did, Violet felt like saying. ‘I better not,’ she said, instead. Glancing towards the staircase, her nerves kicked back in. ‘I better head on up.’ She stalled, jiggling the keys, excited and terrified at the same time. ‘Has anyone been up there recently, do you know?’

      Barty shook his head. ‘Not that I’ve noticed.’ He touched his fingers against his fedora. ‘I’ll let you get on. You know where I am if you need me. Tap the door for mint tea.’

      And with that he turned and opened his own door. Looking back at her as he stepped inside, he paused. ‘Do you want me to come up with you?’

      Tempted as she was to say yes, Vi shook her head. This was something she needed to do alone.

      ‘Thanks, I think I’m okay.’

      He looked at her for a couple of silent seconds, then nodded and closed his door. Violet stood still for a few moments, fighting the urge to knock on his door and tell him she’d changed her mind, she’d love a cup of mint tea and someone to hold her hand and come with her. All she knew about the apartment on the top floor was that her grandfather had paid a cleaning company to go in once a month, but that aside, no one with any actual connection to her family had set foot near the place in decades. It was empty. Waiting. For her? Suppressing the chill that ran down her spine, Violet put her best foot forward and set off up the wide, shallow stairs.

      Number 6. The swirled gold number on the left-hand door of the upper-floor landing confirmed it. Violet hesitated at the top of the marble staircase, her eyes flickering towards number 5. Who was her new neighbour? She hoped they wouldn’t mind sharing the top floor; they must be pretty used to having it to themselves after all these years.

      God, but she was nervous. She’d been so caught up with the romantic notion of moving to Swallow Beach that she hadn’t paused to think about the reality of standing here poised to enter the apartment for the first time. She hadn’t counted on feeling so alone, or scared, even. She hadn’t imagined that she’d be ever so slightly spooked, or feel inexplicably certain that her life was going to change as soon as she opened the door. Shooting a look back towards the staircase, she toyed with the idea of asking Barty to accompany her after all. She almost stepped towards it, then at the last second she pulled herself together, swung purposefully towards her door, and raised the key towards the lock.

      ‘Er, not so fast, cat burglar. Who the hell are you?’

      Violet jumped out of her skin, startled by the sudden male voice behind her. His timing couldn’t have been more spectacularly off; her heart was already in her mouth – he’d pretty much guaranteed her a heart attack. Swinging around, she tried to look more together than she felt. For a slow moment, she stared down the guy standing across the landing, mostly because she couldn’t breathe properly.

      ‘I know,’ he grinned, leaning against his doorway and folding his arms. ‘It’s a lot to take in.’ He gestured down at himself. ‘I can wait.’

      Violet looked away out of the picture window towards the sea, ignoring his smart-arse remark. In truth, he was quite a lot to take in. Tall and tanned, so far so good, but also wearing overalls unbuttoned down his bare chest to waist level. He radiated a laid-back kind of charisma that Hollywood directors no doubt wished they could bottle, all dark curls and eyes that said more than his mouth.

      ‘I’m Violet,’ she said, aware she sounded clipped and prim as she raised her chin and looked at him again. ‘And I’m not a cat burglar. I live here.’

      It was his turn to look surprised. ‘No one lives up here but me.’

      ‘Well, now I do.’

      ‘In there?’ he frowned towards her door.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Since when?’

      ‘Since now. Since this minute.’

      He nodded slowly. ‘Have you been inside yet?’

      Violet bit her lip. ‘Not yet.’

      ‘I СКАЧАТЬ