Название: A Summer to Remember
Автор: Sue Moorcroft
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
isbn: 9780008321772
isbn:
Aaron
The relief had been astronomical. Without questioning the wisdom of her impulsive action, the fact that she’d parted from Aaron on bad terms and had never been back to Nelson’s Bar, her reply had flown from her typing fingers.
I know someone who wants the job with the accommodation, which will save you the bother of advertising. She’ll arrive tomorrow.
Clancy
For the past six years, since Alice had jilted Lee and Aaron had bought Lee out of the property, she’d looked after Alice’s half of Roundhouse Row with a tiny fragment of her capabilities. A part-time caretaking job would be a breeze; a summer in Norfolk would help her heal. She’d wilfully ignored Aaron’s astounded reply: TOMORROW??? What about references??? Or me being able to chat with this person? And, later, Clancy! Please reply! She’d put her phone on ‘do not disturb’ in case he broke the tacit agreement of only communicating via email, and rang.
And that’s how she’d ended up sitting amongst boxes last night, packing recklessly for a low-effort life change and a place to lick her wounds. She’d been able to look into Will’s mortified face and say with manufactured indifference, ‘I have somewhere to go. You needn’t worry.’ She’d handed him the white leather file emblazoned with September Wedding in silver. ‘You’ll find everything in here that you need to cancel our wedding. It’s only fair that you take responsibility as you’re the one to find someone new.’ Then she’d completed her packing with the images of wedding dresses and morning suits swimming in the tears in her eyes, remembering, now she was about to return to Nelson’s Bar, Alice’s wedding day.
Clancy was getting an agonising taste of what Lee must have felt. Surely Alice couldn’t truly have imagined Lee’s pain at being left at the altar like that? Or she would have arranged some gentler way of withdrawing from the marriage.
Now, with Lee’s brother Aaron looking on, she swallowed convulsively against empty-stomach nausea. The fluttering in her ears grew louder and cold sweat gathered on her face. Ever the pragmatist, she murmured, ‘I think I should sit down.’
And she did. The room rushed past her and the floor flew up to hit her, hard.
She heard Aaron exclaim, then a warm hand guided her head down towards her knees and his voice seemed to come from far away. ‘Are you ill?’
Politely, she replied, ‘I’m OK. I just missed breakfast.’ Cautiously, she eased away from him and lifted her head. The room only spun slightly. And that might have been because she’d been suddenly engulfed in the memory of the last time Aaron had touched her. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d still affect her.
‘How about you come and sit on the bench outside for some fresh air,’ he suggested gruffly. ‘I brought coffee stuff. I’ll make some.’
‘Perfect, thank you.’ She managed to roll to her knees and then to her feet, aware of him hovering at her elbow as she struggled across to the back door and out to a black-painted bench on the edge of the circular patio. Vaguely, she took in a cardboard box half full of weeds and a spade and fork lying on the grass beside a dog bowl of water. A mower waited on a half-cut lawn speckled with daisies, the scent of new-mown grass increasing her nausea. She lowered herself until the wooden slats felt firm beneath her as a big, dark grey dog jumped up from a sun-splashed patch of lawn, beating his tail and holding his head awkwardly cocked as he regarded her.
‘Oh, bless, he only has one eye!’ she said, automatically extending her hand to be sniffed.
‘He’s a rescue. I took him because I could call him Nelson and he’d fit right in here. Will you be all right for two minutes?’ Aaron was already stepping away.
She nodded carefully and the myriad colours of the garden made her vision spin like a colour wheel. Shutting her eyes helped, especially when Nelson lodged his head on her leg as if in comfort, and when Aaron returned she was able to half-open her eyes again.
‘Here,’ he murmured, proffering a mug of milky coffee and a cereal bar.
Shakily, she took them. ‘Thank you.’
Clancy sipped and nibbled her way through the small repast, Aaron beside her in not-very-companionable silence.
Aaron had seated himself so he could observe Clancy until her coffee cup was empty and Nelson was nosing the wrapper from the cereal bar on the lawn. The breeze stirred her streaky chestnut fringe and flipped the ends of her hair from her shoulders. What had happened to her? She looked like a pale echo of the sleek, beautiful, mythical creature who’d once flashed into his life and out again.
He’d never apologised for the things he’d said – shouted – when Alice had all but destroyed his brother. He’d been too taken up with Lee, who’d stopped eating, acting, at only twenty-eight years old, as if his life was over.
‘I’m surprised you want to move here,’ he said, trying to focus on the present. ‘Nelson’s Bar’s a far cry from London. I can’t imagine wanting to live in a city, the sky only showing between the huge buildings you spend your life in, breathing stale air and looking out of windows that don’t open, but it’s what you’re used to.’
She shrugged.
‘The caretaker’s job involves changing beds and cleaning up after guests,’ he persisted. Then, though he knew because she’d once told him all about it, eyes shining with enthusiasm, and it was in her email sign-off, he asked, ‘What is it you usually do?’
Her lips barely moved. ‘All the hard shit.’
‘Oh.’ Odd answer. ‘I thought it was film making.’
A robin flew down to perch on the handle of his spade and tilt its head to inspect them before flitting off again. Clancy watched it go. ‘IsVid provides video content and video-based services. Websites. YouTube. Raw footage. Editing. Effects. Five of us built it up. The others are the creatives and the people people. I excel at what nobody else wants to do, like writing privacy policies and terms and conditions for us and our clients, working on their internet safety, adhering to law and legislation, writing agreements and contracts.’
‘Oh,’ he repeated. ‘That does sound like hard shit.’
‘There were compensations, like money and satisfaction. But I’ve left the agency. Or I’m taking time out.’ Then she added, ‘But nobody expects me back.’
He managed not to say ‘oh’, this time. ‘OK,’ he said instead, as Clancy wasn’t showing any immediate signs of turning tail for London. ‘As you know, numbers two and three Roundhouse Row have long-term tenants, Dilys and Ernie. For them the caretaker acts as agent to the landlord – arranging maintenance and checking the rent arrives, paying whatever bills the landlord’s responsible for and negotiating any rent rises. Numbers four, five and six, the holiday cottages, can be let out for any number of nights from two up. The caretaker changes bed linen and towels and does the laundry, cleans the houses and does the gardens.’
‘Why don’t you do the garden? You’re a gardener.’ She’d turned to look at him, her head tilted much as the inquisitive robin’s had been.
‘Because I work full time for my landscape gardening business.’ He knew she knew that. It was as if making the polite enquiries of strangers would erase СКАЧАТЬ