The Summer Seekers Page 22

  “Kathleen—”

  “If Josh hadn’t caught me, I probably would have knocked myself unconscious. I now have firsthand experience of his superior muscle tone. Maybe you could try fainting on him, that might accelerate the relationship.”

  “Or kill it dead.”

  “I wonder if he will find bacon?”

  “I’m sure he will. He seems to be good at getting people to do what he wants them to do.” Martha poured herself a small cup of coffee, wondering how deeply to delve. “Did all that talk of the past upset you, Kathleen?”

  “You heard the doctor—I didn’t drink enough, that’s all. I was too busy chatting to our lovely Josh because you were giving him the silent treatment.”

  “I was focusing on the driving. And if you don’t stop matchmaking, I’m going to call Liza.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “It is. I learned it from you.” Martha sipped her coffee. “I wonder if we should spend another day here. I could amend our bookings.”

  “Today is Kansas and Oklahoma. No need to amend anything.”

  Was it safe for them to travel? What if Kathleen collapsed while she was driving and they were miles from the nearest big town? What if she needed to find another doctor? Where would she start?

  Josh returned with bacon and after they’d finished eating they headed back to their rooms to pack up their gear.

  Martha caught up with him by his door.

  “Are you leaving?” Yesterday she’d been more inclined to drive over his foot than offer him a ride, but that was before the drama of the night before. The calm and kindness he’d shown had changed her opinion of him.

  “Martha—” his voice was gentle “—the last thing you wanted was me coming along on your trip.”

  “That was yesterday. And it wasn’t because I didn’t like you. It was because—” Oh this was so embarrassing. If she told him about Kathleen’s matchmaking she’d never be able to look him in the eye again. “I’m not good with strangers. It takes me a while to warm up.”

  He studied her for a moment. “Since we arrived here, you have engaged almost every member of staff in conversation. If you were any warmer, you’d be a risk to the planet. I’ve rarely met anyone as friendly as you. Except with me.”

  Okay, so that excuse wasn’t going to work.

  She felt a rush of desperation. “You don’t understand—Kathleen has this misguided idea that I need her—help.”

  “Help?”

  “I had a bad breakup.”

  “How bad?”

  “Well, it ended in divorce, so pretty bad—he cheated.” She blushed. Why was she telling a stranger all this? “I needed to get away from everything—by which I mean my life—so I took this job. And somehow Kathleen managed to get me talking, because that’s the kind of person she is, and I told her the truth, and she came up with this ridiculous plan to—”

  “To?”

  “Match me up with someone to help me get my confidence back. And I know how ridiculous that sounds. I’ve been telling her the same thing.”

  “You mean a rebound relationship?”

  Martha ground her teeth. “Believe me, it was not my idea.”

  “I was the chosen one?”

  She should have let him leave. “She thought you had potential. Are you laughing? Because there is nothing funny about this.”

  He pulled off his sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So that’s why you didn’t say a word to me on the journey yesterday?”

  “I was mad with her. And frustrated. And embarrassed in case you worked it out. And also a little nervous because back then I didn’t know that you were a really decent guy who could find a doctor, and food, and produce a good bottle of wine—that was lifesaving by the way—and be generally fantastic. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t—I mean, I wouldn’t have caught her the way you did. She would have banged her head. Injured herself.”

  “That’s a lot of feelings for one small person.” Smiling, he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “She’s going to be fine. You heard the doctor—heat, travel, dehydration, jet lag—it all adds up, particularly in someone of her age.”

  “I was scared. And you were wonderful. I didn’t have a chance to thank you properly last night, so I’m thanking you now.” She was conscious that his hand was still on her shoulder, warm and strong.

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad she’s feeling better, and I hope the rest of your trip goes well.”

  “But that’s just it—if you leave now, she’ll blame me. She’ll think I got rid of you. And that will stress her. She seems determined to travel today, so can I persuade you to travel with us? For one more day at least?” Or was that the last thing he wanted? “Or maybe you’d rather find a cooler ride than the two of us, especially if you haven’t taken a vacation in so many years. This one is probably special, and I know there’s nothing special about my driving. I’m not that experienced, as you probably guessed, although if we’d picked you up in Chicago you would have had even more reason to be nervous. I’ve improved a lot in a few days. By the time we reach Santa Monica I’m hoping to be competent. And now you’re probably thinking that you’d rather not risk your life. Which is ironic, really, because there was me worried for our safety picking up a stranger, whereas the person who should have been worried was you—” The words died as he covered her lips with his fingers.

  “Yesterday I couldn’t get you talking, and today I can’t stop you talking.”

  “It would reassure Kathleen to have you there and we are traveling in the same direction.” She took a breath. “Say something.”

  “I was waiting for a gap in the flow of words.” The laughter in his eyes made her feel better.

  “Will you come with us? For one more day. After that if you’re tired of us, I’ll let you go.”

  “May I speak? Because I have a question.”

  She folded her arms, nervous. “Go for it.”

  “Why did she think I’d be your perfect rebound relationship?”

  “You’d have to ask her that. Because you’re male and have good shoulders? Her list of criteria didn’t seem long. Also you were the first man of appropriate age she happened to spot after she’d come up with her thrilling plan. But honestly, you don’t need to worry. She can plot as much as she likes, and frankly if it distracts her from feeling unwell, that’s fine by me. You know the truth now, and in case you’re wondering I should reassure you that you’re safe. I’m not remotely interested in any sort of relationship right now, even a rebound one. I took this job to get away from all that. You have no idea how much I’m loving having no emotional complications.”

  He looked thoughtful. “So you don’t know her that well?”

  “I have known her for less than a week.” But funnily enough she felt as if she did know her well. In the time they’d been together, Martha had told Kathleen things she’d never told anyone else.

  Why was that?

  She stared across the river. It was because Kathleen was interested in her, and never judged. Not once, even about the driving, had she made Martha feel like a failure.

  “You have such an easy relationship I assumed you were her granddaughter.”

  Martha felt a pang of loss. Spending time with Kathleen had made her realize how much she missed her grandmother. And she realized that there was nothing wrong with her life. Her unhappiness stemmed entirely from the people she was spending time with. Her family. Steven. She’d never be who they wanted her to be, and she didn’t want to be that person.

  “If I could have a second grandmother, I’d choose her.” With her own family she was defensive the whole time and braced for conflict. She didn’t talk to them the way she talked to Kathleen.

  On this trip she was able to be herself, and she felt happier than she had in a long time.

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nbsp; Josh smiled. “She’s lucky to have found you to drive her. And now I understand why you’re doing it—but why is she doing it?”

  “Route 66?” Martha forced herself to concentrate on the conversation. “She was a big traveler of course—a pioneer. But you already know that. Route 66 happened to be on her wish list I think.” Although she was starting to wonder now if Ruth hadn’t had something to do with Kathleen’s choice. She said she didn’t want to get in touch, but she was driving to California and she had to wonder, surely? It had to be on her mind. Maybe Martha would prompt her again. But it wasn’t something she could discuss with Josh. “Will you come with us today?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  The sense of relief was as welcoming as a cold shower on a hot day. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll talk to the staff at reception, and then I’ll help you load the car.”

  She wanted to hug him, but after the conversation they’d just had she was afraid her gesture of gratitude might be misconstrued so she settled for a friendly punch on the arm.

  “Oklahoma, here we come.”

  Kathleen wasn’t wrong about his muscles, she thought. But that didn’t mean she was interested.

  That was one bad decision she was not going to make.

  15

  LIZA

  “It’s been nineteen years since we saw each other. Can you believe that?” Angie sat on the picnic rug, a large sun hat pulled down over her eyes as they dried off after an invigorating—freezing, Liza had called it—swim in the sea.

  Liza lay on her back, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. Why had it taken her so long to do this? And how lucky was she to be having her escape time in the middle of a heat wave?

  The day before, after she’d spoken to her mother, she’d strolled to the beach and spent hours sketching and then painting. At first the blank sheet of paper glaring up at her had felt intimidating, almost like an accusation. She’d made a few strokes with her pencil and her hand had felt stiff and uncertain. She was used to guiding and teaching. Less used to creating something herself. But who was going to see it? Fortunately the beach had been virtually empty and no one had seemed interested in looking over her shoulder. Eventually her hand had started to move with more confidence, as if it had finally remembered what to do. She’d stayed on the beach until her skin had started to burn, and then piled all her equipment into her bag and strolled home. She could have used any room in the house to continue her painting, but instead she’d rummaged in one of the kitchen drawers for the old rusty key that opened the summerhouse at the bottom of the garden. These days it was used for storage, but at one time it had been Liza’s favorite place.

  The lock had been as rusty as the key, but with a little oil and lots of maneuvering she’d managed to open the door. All the memories had come rushing back. The summerhouse had been the focus of so many of her childhood games of make-believe, constructed to fill the long weeks when her mother was away. It had been a bookshop. A hospital. A pirate ship. She’d been a wild child who lived in the woods. A fairy princess. A good witch.

  And now, today, she was an artist.

  Energized by this project that was all for her, she’d cleared out cobwebs and broken plant pots, brushed a thick layer of dust from the floor and polished the murky windows to let the light flood through the glass unrestricted. After a few hours of hard work she’d turned the place into something that could be described as a studio. She’d rescued her old easel from the back of her mother’s garage and set out her paints on the table. Pastels, watercolors, oils—she’d worked in a variety of mediums in her time and was excited to do so again. She’d experiment with all of it and see what she found most absorbing.

  Too excited to take a pause, she headed back to the house for long enough to make herself a simple sandwich with the remains of the fresh crusty loaf she’d bought from the deli and some thick sliced ham, poured herself a glass of chilled white wine, and carried both down to the summerhouse.

  With the windows open she could hear the sound of the birds in the garden and the occasional bleat of a sheep from the field behind the house.

  She’d painted until she lost the light, absorbed in her own creation. Finally she locked the door, headed back to the house and remembered to check her phone.

  She’d missed two calls from Sean, and a text from Caitlin, asking how long a packet of ham would last once it was opened.

  Soon, she thought. Soon she’d talk to them about how she was feeling, but for now she wanted to focus on herself.

  She’d fallen asleep, exhausted but happy, and now here she was on the beach with her oldest friend, wondering how they’d ever managed to lose touch. Like so many things in her life, it had happened gradually so that she hadn’t even noticed the change until it had slipped away. Was this what had happened with her mother and Ruth?

  “I can’t believe it has been so long.” She stretched out her legs. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and her legs and feet were bare. For the first time in as long as she could remember she had nothing tugging at her. No little voice telling her there were things she should be doing, which was good because the only thing she wanted to do was lie with the sun on her face and listen to the waves break onto the shore. She hoped this heat wave wouldn’t end any time soon. “It was at our wedding.”

  “I know. And your anniversary was a few days ago. Unbelievable how fast time passes.”

  How was it that a friend who she hadn’t seen for almost two decades could remember her anniversary, but her husband couldn’t?

  “It was a hot day, do you remember? My hair was limp and my makeup was shiny.”

  Angie removed her hat and lay back next to her. “I remember every moment of it. You looked beautiful. And I had never been more envious of anyone in my life.”

  Liza turned her head. “Why would you have been envious of me?”

  “Because no man had ever looked at me the way Sean looked at you.”

  Liza’s heart gave a skip. “It was our wedding day. Every man looks at his bride like that on his wedding day.”

  “Not true. This wasn’t a Hey, you look great in that dress look, or anything like that. It was a look that said everything he ever wanted in life was standing right there in front of him. That was the kind of look you read about in romance novels and hardly ever see in real life.” Angie sighed. “Sean was an incredibly sexy guy. Brain and brawn—always a killer combination. Women were falling over themselves to catch his attention, and he literally didn’t see anyone else there. Just you. It was one of those rare weddings where you knew the couple really would be together forever, however long that happened to be. Who doesn’t dream of that?”

  Liza was engulfed by a swell of sadness and nostalgia. Angie wasn’t wrong. The only thing she really remembered about that day was Sean. He’d been her focus, and he’d stayed her focus for all the years that had followed. In the beginning she’d been dizzy with happiness, unable to believe her luck. Even after that initial feeling of euphoria had faded, she’d still felt utterly content with her life.

  They’d celebrated the highs and weathered the lows. They’d laughed, hugged, talked, listened, had plenty of sex and planned for their future. They had so much shared history, but somewhere along the way life had chipped away at the bonds that kept them close. They’d forgotten how to be a couple. How had that happened?

  “It’s a shame for you that Sean couldn’t get away this time, but it’s a treat for me.” Angie sat up and brushed sand from her legs.

  Liza felt guilty for thinking only of herself. “I didn’t even know you’d moved back here.”

  “I’ve only been here six months and I didn’t get out much to begin with. I was feeling too sorry for myself. You know what village life is like. I didn’t want people asking questions.”

  “How did Poppy take it?”
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br />   “She was mortified that her father was having an affair—no teenager wants to be forced to think about a parent having sex, particularly with someone closer to her age than mine. She didn’t speak to him for months. And that was hard because I was trying to do the good mother thing and not say anything bad about him. I clenched my teeth so hard I almost needed dental work.” Angie pulled sun cream out of her bag and rubbed more onto her skin. “We muddled through. Poppy already had a college place on the East Coast, but she came home for Christmas. Then in February John broke the news about the baby.”

  “Oh Angie—” Liza reached across and hugged her.

  “It hurt, which made no sense because I wouldn’t have taken him back if he’d begged. Anyway, bring me up-to-date with your news. Sean is a big shot architect now? You live in an amazing mansion in London with glass everywhere?”

  Liza curled her toes into the sand. “Not a mansion, but it’s true that Sean has made the most of the space. He extended our kitchen a few years ago and yes, a great deal of glass was involved. It’s a lovely big family room that opens onto the garden.”

  “And you two are still married and happy. You see? I knew it.”

  Eight signs that your marriage might be in trouble.

  How could she talk about it with Angie, when she hadn’t even raised it with Sean?

  He should be the one she was talking to. And she would. She would.

  “Liza?” Angie’s voice brought her back to earth.

  “Sorry. I was miles away.”

  “Dreaming about Sean.” Angie nudged her. “It’s good to know that absence makes the heart grow fonder even after two decades together. When is he joining you? I’d love to see him again.”

  “We haven’t made firm plans. He’s in the middle of a big project and it’s hard for him to get away. And the girls have summer activities—” It was a part truth, and she didn’t want to say more.

  “You two are an inspiration. Do you know the crazy thing? Despite everything, I still dream of one day meeting someone special again.”