A Summer Fling (15 page)

Dawn twisted her hair up into a crocodile clip and pulled out some stray locks at the sides to soften the effect. ‘I just want us to look nice to see her. It’s the least we can do if she’s giving us that sort of money towards the wedding.’

Calum grunted and put on the tie, tying it in a low, sloppy knot, rebelliously pulling it to one side. He was so handsome in a shirt and tie. He was going to look gorgeous in his penguin gear at their wedding. He had a boyish face with big, grey-blue eyes and that sexy smile that had roped her in from the first.

Dawn drove to the old people’s home: Greenfields in Penistone. It was an old Victorian double-fronted house with a very wide girth and a big, glassy conservatory extension to the left. Neat, frilly curtains hung at the windows and a closely clipped garden at the front impressed to visitors that this was a well-cared-for residence. Calum was bored and moaning before they’d even got to the reception desk. Dawn felt like his mother, pulling him in and doing all the talking to the receptionist. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt like that. Her fiancé wasn’t exactly Mr Get-up-and-Go.

The receptionist led them to a lovely sunny lounge at the back of the house which looked out onto a long, flowery-bordered lawn. A couple of old men in sun hats were playing croquet in the middle of it. It was all very old-fashioned and English and gave Dawn the impression that someone had turned the clock back to the 1930s.

Aunt Charlotte wasn’t the tiny little withered thing Dawn had visualized. She was very nicely dressed, healthily slender and sitting straight-backed in her armchair, and when she said her hellos, it was obvious she’d had a fair few elocution lessons in her time. She spoke like a lady as well as looking like one. Her hair was frost-white, pinned up into an immaculately neat pleat and her eyes were bright and sparkly and grey-blue. She smiled at them and proffered her cheek to Calum and then to Dawn. The old lady smelled of a sweet and delicate perfume that Dawn had never come across before.

‘I thought we’d have scones,’ said Charlotte, leaning forward as if divulging a big secret. ‘Do you both like scones? The food is very good in here.’

‘I love scones,’ said Dawn.

‘Likewise,’ said Calum like a bored teenager. Dawn wanted to kick him.

Right on cue, a lady wheeled in a rattling trolley with a big pot of tea and cups and polished silver cutlery and a china plate of tiny, round buttered scones and pot ramekins full of jam and cream. The old people’s home experience wasn’t at all like Dawn imagined, dull and scruffy and smelling of wee. But then, this was a very upmarket one. Muriel had made some comment about it eating away at Charlotte’s savings like a swarm of locusts devouring a picnic.

‘Would you pour, dear,’ said Aunt Charlotte. ‘Those teapots are far too heavy for me.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Dawn. Calum had already started on the scones without offering them to anyone else first.

‘It’s Dawn, isn’t it?’ asked Charlotte. ‘Such a lovely name. A sunny name.’

‘Yes, Dawn Sole.’

‘S-O-L-E?’ Charlotte delicately plucked a small scone from the plate. She had long, straight fingers with beautiful nails.

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘Italian for sun too,’ nodded Charlotte. ‘Not pronounced the same, but the spelling is identical.’

‘Oh, really?’ said Dawn, deciding then and there that Calum was totally wrong about Aunt Charlotte being loopy. There was a bright shrewdness in her eyes that said she was very switched on.

‘You’re going to be a June bride. Like I was,’ said Charlotte.

‘We’ll bring you some wedding cake,’ smiled Dawn.

‘Thank you.’ Charlotte leaned in close and whispered, ‘But I don’t like it. The icing is too sweet, I’ve never liked marzipan and I’m not a lover of that dark fruit cake.’

‘I don’t like it myself to be honest,’ Dawn sighed.

‘You should have a chocolate cake instead then. Or some of the young ones these days have towers of cupcakes. Such a lovely, pretty idea.’

Calum reached for another scone. Seeing as Dawn wasn’t cutting to the chase, he did it.

‘Auntie Charlotte, Mum said something about a cheque.’

‘I haven’t forgotten,’ Charlotte said coolly, taking a sip of her tea as Dawn cringed with embarrassment. ‘It’s all ready for you, don’t you worry.’

‘I’m just nipping off for a pee,’ said Calum, stuffing the rest of the scone in his mouth.
A fag more like
, thought Dawn.

‘It’s by the front door,’ Charlotte called after him. ‘You can’t smoke in the grounds, you have to do it in the lounge.’ She winked at Dawn. ‘He has smoker’s twitch. My husband William had exactly the same. Dreadful habit.’

Dawn reflected the smile back. What a lovely old lady. She bet her mum would have grown into an old lady like that, given the chance.

‘How are your plans going? I hope Muriel isn’t taking over too much. She’s a very strong personality,’ said Aunt Charlotte with natural diplomacy.

‘She’s been a great help,’ nodded Dawn.

‘Well, you be careful. She was always the same, even as a girl. It was her way or no way and this is your wedding day, you are the star. Here, have another scone. They’re home-made with clotted cream.’

‘I shouldn’t but I will. You’re a bad influence. That tea’s good, by the way. Shall I top you up?’

‘Yes, thank you. My hands aren’t as strong as they were.’

‘You have beautiful hands.’

‘I played a lot of piano. It kept them very supple. And my mother always made me wear hand cream from a very early age. I had to sleep in cotton gloves. Mother had the most beautiful hands too.’

Funny to think this very old lady had a mother, thought Dawn. Did she ever think that one day her daughter would be ninety? Better to see your children grow old though than die before you. Her own grandmother had been devastated to lose her only son. She had never recovered from the shock of it.

As if Charlotte were reading her thoughts, she asked; ‘Do you think you and Calum will ever have children?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Dawn. ‘We haven’t talked about it. Certainly not for a while.’

‘I think he may need to grow up a little more himself first. Don’t rush it, that would be my advice.’ Charlotte looked towards the door to check he wasn’t coming back. ‘I hope you’re very happy, but you’re not what I imagined.’

‘Oh?’ Dawn gulped, not sure how to take that. Old people could be brutally blunt, she knew that from her hairdressing days.

‘You seem a very gentle, nice person. You must stand up for yourself, you know. Especially in that family. They’re a
pack
.’

‘Oh, I do, don’t you worry.’ Dawn laughed with some relief that a compliment not an insult had come her way.

Calum swaggered back into the room. It was obvious from the smoky scent around him where he’d just come from.

‘I’ll get your cheque.’ Charlotte bent to pick up her handbag from the floor. It was a lovely vintage purse with a big central clip. She brought out her cheque book and hunted around for a pen.

‘It’s very kind of you,’ Dawn said.

‘It’s a ridiculously expensive business getting married these days, I know. And I understand you’re quite alone in the world. I thought that was very sad when Muriel told me about the wedding. I just need to write the payee name on.’

She clicked on the pen and filled in the missing details with a flourish.

‘Denise and Demi will get a cheque when it’s their turn, but not this much.’ Charlotte ripped the cheque out of the book. ‘So keep the details to yourself. I told Muriel I’d give you all one thousand. I’m giving you two.’

Calum became animated then. ‘That’s really nice of you, thank you, Auntie Charlotte.’

‘There you go. I’ve made it out to Dawn Sole. The bride will know how to spend the money for the best.’

Calum had a moment of annoyance, but it passed quickly. He’d get it out of Dawn when it cleared in a few days.

Dawn was delighted. This way she could make sure the money went on the wedding and not straight into the tills of the Dog and Duck. Along with her horse-race winnings, she was back on course for getting the best that money could buy for her big day.

‘Have you picked your dress yet, Dawn?’ said Charlotte, stifling a little yawn. She was getting tired, Dawn could see that.

‘Yes, and it’s gorgeous. Would you like me to bring you a picture of it?’ said Dawn.

‘That would be lovely,’ said Charlotte. ‘Obviously I won’t get to the wedding, I’m afraid. But I would like to see your dress very much.’

Calum didn’t relish the idea of coming up again, obviously, so for his benefit Dawn said, ‘I won’t bring Calum when I show you the photos. I’ll come early one afternoon, then I won’t tire you out.’

‘I do get tired very early,’ said Charlotte. ‘Trouble is, I wake up so damned early too. It’s not much fun getting old. Enjoy your youth whilst you have all that energy.’

‘We won’t tire you out any more. Come on, Dawn. Auntie Charlotte’s sleepy,’ said Calum, grabbing at Dawn’s sleeve and making himself sound thoughtful in the process.

‘I’ll come again soon.’ Dawn kissed Charlotte’s cheek. Her skin felt so fragile and thin and soft under her lips. That lovely perfume wafted towards Dawn and made her think of an autumn walk in a wood after the rain.

‘Drop us off at the pub, I’m calling in to celebrate,’ said Calum as they pulled out of Penistone.

Dawn bit down on what she was going to say. He would only accuse her of nagging for the millionth time. She put up and shut up, as she realized she might have to do quite a lot in the future.

Without exception, all five women were really looking forward to their night out together, albeit for different reasons. Dawn knew that every Friday she expected to stay in with Calum and every Friday, without fail, he would promise that he’d come back in after a couple of pints only to turn in long after she had gone to bed. So it would make a refreshing change to go out and enjoy herself. Anna was so dreading being alone on her birthday that even an evening with four relative strangers seemed like a gift. Grace wanted to have a night off from Gordon’s incessant talk about their future life in Blegthorpe. And young Raychel knew she was far too reliant on Ben for company. Sometimes, though he never said so, she felt as if she was choking him with her neediness.

They all found themselves in the ladies’ toilet at work competing for the mirrors as they reapplied their lippy and fluffed up their hair a bit. There was more than a little pleasant thrill running through each of them.

The Rising Sun pub was only up the road from White Rose Stores HQ at the edge of the industrial estate. They called in for a drink to whet their appetites for the meal later in the new Thai restaurant next door, aptly called the Setting Sun.

The Rising Sun had recently had a refurb to make it look like a cowboy saloon, albeit with more comfortable seating than rickety old wooden chairs. Lots of saddles and cowboy paraphernalia were nailed on the walls, and posters at either side of a small stage announced that ‘The Rhinestones’ were playing the following week. Dawn was quite sorry they wouldn’t be performing that night; she loved any sort of country and western music. She only had to hear the first few bars of a Jim Reeves song to be back to her childhood with her singing-mad dad and his gee-tar. She used to sing a lot around the house herself until Calum told her to shut up because he couldn’t hear the telly.

They found a conveniently empty table to sit at by the side of an unlit fireplace. No sooner had they sat down than a waitress with a silver bucket full of ice and a bottle of champagne turned up and another waitress followed behind with a tray bearing five long glass flutes.

‘A little present from James McAskill,’ explained Christie to her party of open-mouthed administrators. What was this woman to James McAskill that she had such sway? they thought. But they took advantage of his kindness and raised their glasses in Anna’s direction and said in unison. ‘Happy fortieth birthday, Anna!’

‘So how come you haven’t any mates or family to go out with tonight then?’ said Dawn. Anna coloured.

‘My dear girl, you have such a way with words,’ said Christie, shaking her head from side to side.

Anna knew that Christie had spoken to the others about the split with Tony because she had acted above board and told her that she had. She wasn’t the type to gossip but she wanted them to know something of Anna’s story so that no one put their foot in it. Even though Dawn still seemed likely to do exactly that.

‘Well, you know about my errant partner of course,’ Anna began to explain. ‘Mum and Dad are divorced. Mum got remarried and lives in Ireland with her new fella, Dad got remarried and lives in Cornwall but we’ve never really been close. I’ve got a much younger sister, Sally, but she dyed her hair green, changed her name to Rainbow Storm, started doing strange things with crystals and went to live on a French commune. Anyway, she never did believe in monogamy so she wouldn’t have been the best support. I’ve had a few cards from couples that Tony and I used to go around with, but they’re more his mates than mine, so they’re being loyal and staying away, I expect. And I appear to have lost all the friends I did have when they all went on to have families. I think they started to feel awkward that I was having such a bad time conceiving and they were churning kids out on conveyor belts. Having children and not having children is a bit of a divider,’ said Anna. ‘So I drifted apart from everyone except Tony and now he’s gone and that’s why I’m a Billy-No-Mates saddo today.’

Grace nodded supportively. She knew how easy it was to find yourself isolated. She had devoted her life to her family and lived a friendless existence after her best friend Ellen died six weeks before her wedding to Gordon. ‘Please don’t marry him, Gracie,’ had been the last lucid words she had heard from her friend’s lips.

And Ben had been Raychel’s only companion. Friendship outside their close circle of two was an alien concept. How could she have friends when she could never trust anyone but Ben? Ever. They were united by things that set them apart from everyone in the world.

‘Friendships are so important,’ said Christie. ‘I feel for you being alone. Which is why you are going to have a wonderful meal with us tonight and toast the fact that this day is the first day of the rest of your life.’ Christie had been thinking a lot about her ladies and was so glad they were here around this table – together. Man was not meant to be an island. Once upon a time she had been wrong in cutting herself off from everyone and floating out into a sea of loneliness. She had been lucky, at least, in being pulled back to shore by wonderful people who cared for her.