A Summer to Remember. Sue Moorcroft

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СКАЧАТЬ an unfurnished house yesterday.

      He’d met Genevieve at his end-terrace flint cottage in Potato Hall Row on the edge of the village near the cliffs, and found her worrying aloud about where to go while builders repaired her own cottage. It was a tricky subject. He was all too aware that she was fishing to move in with him and he was beginning to resent it. They might have been together for a year or so but he liked his life in Nelson’s Bar as it was. He was content with his own company, creating gardens, soil between his fingers, the scent of grass on the air, blossom in spring, crinkling leaves and the promise of frost when autumn came. Nature’s glorious, ever-changing landscape. OK, he didn’t have much of a relationship history – serial monogamy interspersed with happy singledom – maybe his brother’s public dumping had had something to do with that.

      But that was his choice.

      As it happened, while he’d been trying hard not to tackle the issue of where Genevieve was going to spend the months the builder needed to underpin her house, Aaron’s mum Yvonne had telephoned. ‘Aunt Norma’s broken her ankle on a day trip to King’s Lynn, and bumped her head. She’s got to stay in hospital overnight. Your dad’s on shift at the hotel—’

      Knowing his mother’s car control in times of stress, Aaron immediately offered, ‘I’ll drive you.’ His great-aunt had looked after him and Lee a lot when they were little so Yvonne could work. He’d apologised to Genevieve and was soon driving his mother out of the village, noticing the absence of Clancy’s car outside the Roundhouse and sparing a moment to wonder whether she’d decided to head home to London already.

      He had little opportunity to examine his reaction to that possibility during the hassly fifty-minute journey as Yvonne alternately worried aloud about her aunt and reproved him for the disreputable interior of his double-cab pickup, littered with notes, plans of gardens and empty crisp packets.

      Once at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, they found Aunt Norma had concussion. Queasy and quiet, she looked unlike her usual noisy, feisty self. Yvonne croaked, ‘Oh, Auntie! You poor thing!’ and became quite tearful.

      They stayed on, requesting information of nurses and buying Aunt Norma magazines from the hospital shop. Her normally bright eyes were closed against queasiness and she didn’t tease anyone or ask awkward questions, so they knew she had to be feeling pretty rubbish.

      Finally, after she’d fallen asleep, Aaron and Yvonne went out into a dark and breezy evening. Yvonne was inclined to sniff and Aaron gave her a reassuring hug before they got into his truck, her loose curls blowing into his face.

      It wasn’t until he was nosing his pickup into the mad traffic on the huge roundabout on the outskirts of King’s Lynn that Clancy Moss returned to the forefront of his mind with an uncomfortable jolt. He should have made some effort to check whether she’d definitely left. He had the landline number of the house but the clock on the dash of his truck read 22:47 – too late to ring.

      When, eventually, he’d driven his yawning mother past the Roundhouse, the place was in darkness, but the smart blue BMW was once again parked outside the front gate. He drove on, feeling like a git. Spending a night in an empty house couldn’t be comfortable.

      As he was feeling no better about himself this morning, he let Nelson out into the garden, pausing to enjoy the view of the glittering, restless sea and wonder why anyone would live anywhere other than Nelson’s Bar, then passed half an hour strumming one of his favourite guitars on the garden bench. It always put his soul at peace.

      When it was nine o’clock, mindful that yesterday Clancy hadn’t seemed to be looking after herself, he stuffed four cereal bars in his pockets, called Nelson and snicked on his lead, then stepped out into the early summer sunshine. He strode past the rest of Potato Hall Row, mainly flint cottages edged with red brick. Nelson’s feathery tail waved as the king-sized canine sniffed hedges and gateposts. They made their way down the curve of Long Lane to the Roundhouse.

      The scent of clipped privet was strong on the air as he passed 3 Roundhouse Row where Ernie could be seen sweeping up hedge trimmings. ‘Aaron!’ Ernie hailed him at max volume. ‘Do we have a new Evelyn? Dilys says we have but nobody’s told me.’ He waved towards the blue BMW parked in the lane and leaned on the broom handle, shaggy grey eyebrows knitting above the bridge of his nose.

      Aaron met Ernie’s scowl with a smile. There was no point trading Ernie grump for grump. He couldn’t help but attack every subject like a threat any more than Aunt Norma could help tripping on uneven pavements. ‘Possibly,’ he replied.

      Ernie revolved on the spot as Aaron attempted to carry on by. ‘And she’s Alice’s cousin? Come to represent the family interests, has she?’

      Aaron shrugged, managing to sidestep Ernie on the second attempt. ‘Hard to say. Hedge is looking great, Ernie.’ Ernie was instantly distracted, beaming with pride as he patted his manicured privet, and Aaron escaped. Dilys must have met Clancy, which was like telling the whole village, and Aunt Norma had the same knitting and sewing mates. It was no doubt only because she was in hospital that he hadn’t already received an indignant phone call about a member of Alice’s family living in the Roundhouse.

      He broke into a jog, determined to pass Dilys’s cottage without being collared again but, thankfully, her red gingham curtains were drawn and he was able to slip through the gate to the Roundhouse.

      It was no use checking for drawn curtains there as every window was presently bare. His conscience gave him another prod. He gave the outer front door a gentle knock. If she was upstairs asleep – on what? – she would be unlikely to be disturbed by it and—

      A brisk rattle, then the porch door swung open and Clancy stood in the opening wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Her chestnut hair fell poker-straight and glossy to her shoulders, the fringe framing those direct green eyes.

      ‘Oh, good, it’s you,’ she said, beckoning him in. The smell of coffee and the red mug and bowl he could see in the sink as he followed her suggested she’d had breakfast. ‘I’ve found the bookings book in a kitchen drawer,’ she began as she strode ahead. ‘Can I get access to the Roundhouse Row bank account? Or do I come through you to check payments received? Evelyn’s notes don’t cover that.’ By now she’d reached the place on the kitchen island where the bookings book and a few piles of paper were all neatly arranged. She glanced down at the big dog beside Aaron. ‘Morning, Nelson.’

      Nelson waved his tail. Evidently, he didn’t know her well enough to perform his greeting dance.

      ‘But first—’ Aaron broke in, taken aback to realise the dreary, droopy ghost Clancy he’d met yesterday had vanished, leaving in its place a Clancy much more like the sparky woman he remembered.

      ‘“But first” let’s get the Roundhouse furniture out of storage?’ she finished for him, her honeyed tones belying her steely expression. ‘It’s high on my list, but not high on yours, evidently, as you didn’t bother coming back yesterday, regardless of whether I had anything to sleep on.’

      Aaron felt a smile tug at his mouth. He didn’t want it to, but something amused him about her obvious satisfaction in possessing knowledge he’d failed to share. ‘But first,’ he repeated firmly, ‘I need to apologise for abandoning you yesterday. There was a small family emergency.’ He explained about Aunt Norma.

      Instantly, concern filled Clancy’s eyes. ‘Your family comes first, of course. I can manage on an airbed for another couple of nights if necessary.’

      An airbed. He caught his mouth this time before it grinned at her resourcefulness. ‘I’m СКАЧАТЬ