That Long Lost Summer Page 5

  ‘Laurie… Laurie, over here,’ he called, and Laurie’s face lit up with relief and joy as he ran into his father’s arms.

  13

  ‘Now we have the car, let’s go somewhere. There are so many pretty places to see or we could go to the beach.’ Flora said cheerfully to Hugo as they were getting dressed. They’d slept a little later than usual this morning and it was now well past nine o’clock.

  ‘Let’s see what the day brings. We’ve only just arrived here, there’s plenty of time.’ he said without enthusiasm, before going into the bathroom and shutting the door.

  She struggled to conceal her impatience with his obvious indifference to her suggestion that they might explore this beautiful district. There was so much to see, Romanesque towns, art galleries, lavender fields. So many famous artists had come here, seduced by the changing light that washed over the stunning landscape. Hugo had loved it here last time and encouraged their daughters to absorb the beauty. It felt to her now that it was only with her that he was morose and silent. He’d seemed perfectly friendly with the others at supper last night and been happy to go and play golf with Matt. Was it her imagination or was he bored with her without the vitality of their daughters?

  The thought stung deeply. She warned herself not to imagine things, not to jump to conclusions. She remembered one friend who’d confided that her husband seemed bored and dreary when he was with her and yet was amusing and lively when they were with friends and it later transpired that he was having a passionate affair with a woman in the office. Was Hugo doing the same? There were quite a few attractive women in his travel agency. She wondered if somehow she could ask his business partner if anything was going on. She’d known George Hampton forever and felt easy in his company, but should she? Dare she, ask him? What would she do if he confirmed it?

  She got dressed and waited for him to come out of the bathroom. ‘The time will fly past so let’s go somewhere lovely, today,’ she said with rather a forced smile, standing in front of the door so he couldn’t escape back into the bathroom.

  ‘We’ll see what the plans are,’ he said, not looking at her, reaching for his shorts and shirt.

  ‘Look, Hugo.’ She faced him, her impatience mounting. ‘I miss the girls dreadfully too, but they are old enough to make up their own minds and they chose to go to college in the US, not …’ she flailed about for ideas, ‘shack up with some druggy weirdo or drift off somewhere to find themselves, or whatever. They want to do well in life and they worked hard to get to Pennsylvania. Other friends have children who have left home and they get on together, take up new things.’ She could hear the whine in her voice and despised herself for it, but it was bad enough getting used to life with their daughters gone, without her husband acting as if he wished he could leave her too.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He sank down on the bed, still not looking at her. ‘I… it’s difficult to explain… I miss them so much.’

  ‘And I don’t?’ she exclaimed.

  ‘No.’ He looked stricken. ‘I don’t mean that, Flora. Of course you miss them, but I just don’t feel…’ he sighed, ‘connected, somehow. It’s not you, I care for you very much. I just don’t feel we’re close any more.’ His whole body slumped dejectedly.

  Flora struggled with feelings of annoyance and fear at his weakness. Was he having a breakdown, or trying to tell her that he no longer loved her and wanted them to separate? It would traumatise their daughters if the minute they’d left them alone together, their parents broke up. He couldn’t mean that, could he? Had he someone else already lined up?

  As if he guessed her thoughts he said. ‘There’s no one else. It’s not that, Flora. I care for you very much, but I…’ He raked back his hair, glanced at her then away. ‘I just feel we are only good as a foursome. I know it sounds stupid but we’ve never lived alone, just the two of us.’

  ‘We had a few months together before Ella was born,’ she protested.

  ‘Yes, but she took over our lives even then, didn’t she? You often felt ill and tired and we had to save up to buy baby stuff instead of going on holiday or going out much. We seemed to plan our life around her even before she was born, instead of really getting to know each other, having time for each other, before babies curtailed our freedom.’

  ‘You never said this before.’ She sat down on the chair by the door. She knew other people had said it but they’d been so besotted with their daughters they’d taken no notice.

  ‘I didn’t realise it till they’d gone. We did everything together, as you know. The four of us had a wonderful life, but now, without them… although I know we’ll still see them from time to time and it’s right and normal that they’ve chosen their own path, but I just feel lost without them.’ He gave a heavy sigh. ‘The dynamics of our life have changed so much and it needs some getting used to.’

  She felt scared now and impatient with him. Why couldn’t they at least make an effort? Yet here, in this small space, she felt they were strangers, two people who just happened to be in a room together. Would other couples hug each other, cry in each other’s arms and then get on with their lives? Yet here they were, not wanting any sort of intimacy at all.

  ‘We are lucky to be in this villa with Susie and Matt. It’s so lovely out here and there are so many pretty places to visit. We’ll get used to life without them, to being just us two together. We are still a close family even if they are in the US.’ She struggled to sound positive.

  ‘I know all that, but… well, I… I was going to talk to you about this later. I met Edmund at the golf club yesterday. You remember Edmund Bailey?’

  She frowned, searching her memory. ‘You mean Edmund who was married to Lucille? Is he married to someone else now?’ She vaguely remembered the couple. Lucille was one of those women for whom the grass, or rather another man, was always more exciting than the one she had.

  ‘Yes, well, he’s here and he’s bought this boat and he wondered if I’d like to go with him to crew for a few days, go up the coast.’ He studied the floor, as if his life depended upon it.

  ‘What, both of us? I mean we are here now with Matt and Susie and…’

  ‘No.’ There was a touch of defiance in his voice. ‘Just me. It’s going to be quite tough sailing and it’s not a very big boat. There’s only really room on board for two people and his wife gets seasick.’

  ‘Why buy a boat then?’ she exclaimed. ‘Anyway, I assume you refused. We’ve been asked to stay here, after all.’

  He looked awkward. ‘Well, no actually, it’s something I’d like to do. Matt’s fine with it. I just feel it will do me good, help me come to terms with the girls leaving home.’

  ‘But you barely know anything about boats at all. I don’t think you’ve ever been on the sea, have you?’ She was amazed. She had sailed on an estuary and very occasionally on the North Sea most of her childhood but Hugo had never taken to it, which was one of the reasons they didn’t holiday in Aldeburgh.

  ‘Edmund assures me it’s quite easy, and I’ve done a bit with you, after all.’ He had his mulish face on.

  ‘But what about me?’ She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘What would you have said, if I’d announced I was going off on a boat with a friend, without you, when we’d been invited to stay here?’ She sat bolt upright on her chair, fury boiling in her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about it the minute you got back from the golf club? Were you going to slope off and have me worry you’d had an accident or something?’

  ‘No of course not. I was about to tell you. I’ve told you now. Susie and Matt will look after you and I’ll leave you the car. Edmund’s wife understands, she…’

  ‘Yes, you told me, she’s seasick. Well, I don’t think much of a man who buys a boat that he knows his wife won’t ever go in,’ she retorted.

  ‘She doesn’t mind at all. In fact, she encouraged it.’

  ‘Perhaps she wants him out of the way.’ She refrained from adding that maybe Lucille had a delicious lover wai
ting in the wings.

  ‘Not at all.’ He sounded annoyed. ‘She lets him do his own thing. Anyway, I’ll be back in just over a week and then we’ve still got another week or so here. We’ll explore the place then.’ He spoke in a reasonable voice now, as if he were promising her a treat.

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’ She felt tearful now. ‘So without the girls you feel we… you and I, have nothing between us?’

  ‘No, of course I don’t.’ He looked affronted. ‘I just need to… well, adjust. I don’t expect you to understand. I hardly understand myself.’ He looked up at her and then away. ‘I’m sorry, Flora, I really am. I just need to be alone, have some space.’

  ‘I thought you were going to be with this man – a man I don’t remember you liking very much – cooped up in the boat?’ It was Flora he didn’t want to be with, only he didn’t dare say it and she didn’t want him to.

  ‘Well, yes, I am, but you know what I mean. He and I roughing it a bit, having a sort of adventure. I told you he’s just bought the boat and I haven’t seen it. I’m afraid you’d hate it, that’s why I didn’t suggest you come with us.’ He used a soothing voice, as if he was being kind.

  He continued dressing, not looking at her, leaving her shell-shocked.

  ‘So, you are going to do this? Leave me alone here? When are you going?’ Flora demanded.

  ‘This afternoon. Edmund will pick me up and we’ll get off. I’ll ring you every day and you can always contact me. You have Matt and Susie and everyone else in the party is really nice. You won’t be alone.’ He sounded more cheerful now. No doubt relieved he had told her.

  She got up off the chair, not wanting to hear any more. She felt hurt, abandoned, even though they were not happy together. Perhaps, after all it was good idea to have a few days apart. She remembered sadly how determined she’d been to use this holiday to get their new life together up and running. Now it seemed she’d failed already.

  She left the room and went out into the garden, planning to go for a walk to try and make sense of it. Susie was sitting by the pool with Didi, Tony and Alegria. She jumped up and put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Matt told me about Hugo’s plan last night. I could see when you arrived that he’s not happy and is missing the girls. It’s just as bad for you of course, but men…’ She smiled. ‘They are not as good as we are at dealing with emotional stuff.’

  ‘I know, but it’s so bad mannered to slope off like that, when you and Matt have asked us to stay and gone to so much trouble to make everything lovely for us,’ Flora protested.

  ‘We’re fine with it. He’ll only be away a week. He’s going through a bad time. You know what men are like, internalising things instead of talking them out as we girls do. Having no children of our own it’s hard to know what to say, but look how Alegria has blossomed, grown up, taken charge of her own life. Let Hugo do his thing, come to terms with it,’ she said gently. ‘He’ll be back, refreshed, once he’s got his head together.’

  Flora decided to say no more about it. She was not going to get into a competition with Hugo over who was missing their daughters the most. She was fed up with Hugo for not sharing their new life with her instead of dashing off on this boat trip. She would not spoil the party by making a scene, hurt and enraged though she felt. If Hugo wanted to do this boat trip he must. It was better than him hanging round here like a wet weekend, barely speaking to her.

  Susie, perhaps guessing her resolve, hugged Flora. ‘Help yourself to breakfast and come and join us. Xavier has gone to the airport to pick up Laurie. He woke up Alegria by diving into the pool for an early swim, forgetting she was there.’ She laughed. ‘I’m so glad you are here, Flora, we’ll have a great time.’

  Flora poured herself a mug of coffee and helped herself to a golden, flaky croissant with home-made myrtilles jam.

  She thought of Xavier. Despite the years since they’d last seen each other, during which she’d barely thought of him, the attraction between them was still there. Though she felt able to control it while Hugo was here, how would it be when he had gone, leaving them alone together?

  14

  Sylvia and Martha announced they were off to the market and Flora suddenly decided she’d go with them. It would get her away from Hugo while he waited for his new sailing friend to pick him up. Besides, she loved markets and they could show her which stalls were best for fruit, vegetables and cheese.

  ‘Good idea, do come with us,’ Martha said. ‘Susie has sussed out the best places, so you’ll know when it’s your turn to produce the meals for the day with Hugo.’

  Flora did not say that with Hugo sloping off on this boating trip, she’d probably have to do it alone, so it was even more important that she knew where to shop.

  She admitted to herself that though she was hurt by Hugo’s plan, she wouldn’t have wanted to go, even if he’d suggested it. She would have hated roughing it on the sea with two men – one a virtual stranger. But his escape on this strange adventure scared her. He was a decent, kind man – well, he had been when their girls were there but as one of her friends once remarked when her own kind husband strayed off track, ‘A dog was kind but faithful too.’

  Hugo appeared for breakfast before she left for the market, and told everyone about his plans. ‘Quite by chance, I met this old friend at the golf club and he was looking for someone to crew on his boat.’ He made it sound as if Edmund was one of their closest friends, when in fact neither of them had ever warmed to him.

  The rest of the party were dotted round the pool and looked up from their newspapers and books to listen to his announcement. She sensed they were also watching her reaction to this news, and when Ben asked if she was going on this jaunt too, she managed to laugh and say jokily, ‘No, not me, far better to leave the boys to it. I’d probably be seasick most of the time anyway.’

  Sylvia and Martha came out of the kitchen, armed with baskets – Sylvia fussing about the kittens, wondering if she should buy special food, as the cat probably needed more sustenance. Determined to get her away, Martha caught Flora’s eye and said they must leave at once, or all the best produce would be gone.

  ‘I love European markets,’ Flora said truthfully, as they made their way to the car. ‘Everything is so fresh and you get little old ladies bringing down the few eggs, herbs or cheese they produce at home, which are always delicious.’

  ‘I agree,’ Sylvia said. ‘It’s good you’re coming with us; perhaps you’ll have some ideas of what we can have for supper. Everyone makes such an effort, setting the bar very high.’ She sighed. ‘I’m not very adventurous with my cooking I’m afraid.’

  ‘It’s a good idea to give everyone a day to produce the meals,’ Martha said. ‘No one wants to be thought lazy or mean and anyway there is so much lovely fresh food in the market, it’s a pleasure to cook, especially as one’s not exhausted after a day at work.’

  ‘True,’ Flora agreed, rather wishing she’d bought her Mediterranean cookbook. Perhaps Susie had one she could browse through.

  On the way there, Sylvia drove as if she owned the road, quite ignoring the horns of the French drivers behind her, and explained that she and Martha were first cousins.

  ‘Some people think we’re a gay couple as we live together,’ she explained. ‘We each have our own quarters though and we’ve always enjoyed doing things together so it seemed a good idea.’

  ‘We are the only two in the family who are sane,’ Martha said cheerfully. ‘It was complicated because my father and Sylvia’s mother fell in love with each other, even though they were married to other people.’

  ‘Oh, so how did it that work out?’ Flora asked, guessing that they were both in their fifties. They were attractive women, well dressed in linen trousers and pretty shirts, their hair stylishly cut, Martha’s to her shoulders, though now tied back, and Sylvia’s in a neat bob. It was obvious they took great care of themselves.

  ‘We didn’t know any different,’ Sylvia said. ‘In fact, we did wonder if we had
the same father, but we didn’t know which one. One minute we thought we shared Philip, Martha’s dad, the next, Graham, mine.’

  ‘Did they look the same, were they brothers?’ Flora asked.

  ‘No, but their wives were sisters.’ Martha said.

  ‘Our fathers were in the film and theatre world. No one famous but they jogged along, knew a lot of the greats, worked alongside them too,’ Sylvia said. ‘We didn’t live close and we didn’t see much of each other when we were children but we’ve been great friends ever since and got a lovely house together after deciding to pool our money.’

  ‘Sounds a great idea,’ Flora said. ‘So how do you know Matt and Susie?’

  ‘I’m a solicitor like they are, and we met through work and then we found we lived close to each other in Cambridge.’ Martha said. ‘Sylvia and Susie go to the same exercise class and met there.’

  They arrived now at the market. Sylvia parked the car and Martha fetched the baskets from the boot. The food market was situated under a huge awning, sheltered from the sun, while other stalls, mostly selling clothes, old CDs, luridly coloured sweets, shoes and bags, were outside it. Flora followed them, her sprits lifting. Stall holders were shouting out to sell their wares, fruits and vegetables shone with freshness, there were large misshaped courgettes, tomatoes, bunches of fresh herbs, strawberries, apricots and cherries.

  ‘We know we want cheese.’ Martha led them to her favourite cheese stall and, in perfect French, asked to taste some, handing morsels to Sylvia and Flora.

  Sylvia was determined to get something for the cat. ‘She’s got those kittens to feed. I’ll ask the fishmonger for some scraps,’ she said, making for a stall.

  ‘Make sure he wraps it well,’ Martha called after her. ‘Sylvia and cats,’ she grumbled half-heartedly.

  It was all so civilised, Flora thought. The French loved food and buying it was an art, they took time and care in choosing it. She remembered the last time she’d done this in France, showing her daughters how to pick out the best fruit and vegetables and how the stall holders understood that. Once in a London market back home, she’d almost had her hand rapped for touching the fruit.