When Summer Fades (10 page)

‘Actually … it’s not as bad as I thought.’

‘Good. Now back to the health club.’

‘I’ve already told you we can’t possibly afford it. At least I can’t. I don’t know about you. Have you won the lottery?’

‘No. But I do know how we
can
afford it.’

Nibbling on a piece of celery, Callie looked up. ‘OK, clever clogs. So tell me.’

‘Lottie and Pearl.’

Callie’s mouth gaped open. ‘Lottie and Pearl? Bloody hell, Sophie! ‘You’re not suggesting we go on the game?’

‘In case you’d forgotten Lottie and Pearl
are
not
, and never have been, on the game. Besides, that wasn’t what I had in mind.’

‘Thank heavens for that! For one minute you had me worried. Somehow I can’t see either of us swinging from the chandeliers or done up as French maids.’

‘Speak for yourself Miss Callaghan. Like you I’m not too keen on swinging from the chandeliers, I’m not much good at heights, but I can quite see myself done up as a—’

‘All right. All right. Don’t rub it in. So tell me, Mademoiselle Fifi, just where do Lottie and Pearl fit into my weight loss plan?’

‘It’s simple, I once helped Pearl’s boyfriend. He thought he was having a heart attack, but wouldn’t let Pearl call a doctor. She called me instead.’

‘I thought you said it was simple.’

‘As I was trying to explain, before I was so rudely interrupted, luckily it was only indigestion – not a heart attack. Maurice was so grateful he even offered me reduced membership at his health club.’

Callie’s eyes widened in understanding. Surely Sophie didn’t mean that rather swish place down by the new shopping arcade? ‘It is a possibility, I suppose … However, you’re the one offered reduced membership, Not me. And boy do I need some reducing.’

‘Let’s not worry about that now. I can’t see it being a problem. I'll ask Pearl tomorrow. She and Maurice are probably busy at the moment.’

Straining her ears, Callie heard the sound of 1940s music drifting across the landing. Sophie thrust an apple in her hand. ‘Eat that and stop eyeing those chocolates, while I write down our plan of attack. How much time do we have?’

‘Pardon?’

‘How long is Patrick going to be around?’

‘For as long as it takes to build the ring road. He’s signed on as site manager.’

Sophie smiled radiant. What fantastic news. Hadn’t Callie said it was going to take absolutely ages to build the ring road? ‘Then you must be over the moon.’

‘I am as long as I can get rid of this moon-shaped face and balloon-shaped body.’

‘Don’t speak like that! You have a very pretty face and lovely hair.’

Unconvinced, Callie pulled miserably at her scrunchie and released a mass of tumbling, dark, wiry curls.

‘Oh, this is going to be fun!’ Sophie said, patting her on the head. ‘I can’t wait to get to work on you.’

Callie gnawed miserably at her apple core. ‘It won’t be much fun watching the rest of the family eat Mum’s gigantic dinners, while I nibble on a stick of celery.’

Dismissing Callie’s tales of woe, Sophie reached for the calendar and scribbled down some dates. ‘Got it!’ she cried.

‘Hmph! That sounds ominous. So can I suggest you break it to me gently? What other delights do you have in store for me?’

Sophie pushed the calendar in Callie’s direction and pointed at various dates.

‘That’s Easter, which is early this year. You know what’s happening at Easter?’

Callie shook her head, deeply pathetic. ‘Nope. But if you have anything to do with it, I bet the Easter Bunny won’t be bringing me any eggs.’

‘No. But he might bring you Patrick Murphy instead, if you move in here.’

Practically choking on all that remained of the apple core, Callie snorted in disbelief. ‘Now I
know
you’re barking mad! While I appreciate what you’re doing for me Sophie, this flat’s barely big enough for you and Rosa, without me putting in an appearance. Where exactly would I sleep – in the bath?’

‘No. Rosa’s room, because she won’t be here. She’s going home for Easter. Don’t you see? You won’t be tempted by your mum’s cooking; I can introduce you to healthy eating habits, and at the same time we both get into shape.’

‘We?’

‘You’ve obviously forgotten I’m going to the Algarve with Rosa in the summer.’

Callie’s face was a picture. Sophie was really serious about helping her. Not only that – if she stayed at the flat, there was far less chance of running into Patrick. Frowning, she picked up the calendar. ‘How much do you think I can lose in a month?’

‘It depends how strong-willed you are. Why?’

‘Dad’s planning something special for St. Patrick’s Day on March 17th.’

Sophie smiled, recalling a previous St. Patrick’s Day that had played such an important part in Callie’s life. ‘Hmm, well I’m sure the nuns at your convent will have told you. “
Rose
-
Marie
Callaghan
,
miracles
can
and
do
happen
.
If
only
you’ll
have
faith
my
child
.” And at risk of offending your priest, not only do I want you to say a few “Hail Mary’s” but also a few “Patrick Murphy’s” as well.’

Explaining that every time Callie was tempted to nibble on cakes, biscuits or crisps, she was to reach for a ‘Patrick Murphy’, Sophie thrust the slips of paper into her palm. ‘That’s why I insisted you made so many. Put them everywhere. Don’t worry, you can do it. Although, I’m sure you’ll find it easier once you’re staying with me.’

When Rosa heard of Sophie’s plan, she was delighted. In addition to it being a wonderful idea and company for Sophie while she was away, it also proved the perfect excuse as to why Callie should suddenly be moving into Victoria Villas.

‘Then you and Sophie must come here for dinner,’ Mary Callaghan insisted.

Filled with panic Callie told her mother it would be too inconvenient. She and Sophie were working extra shifts. They needed to save for their summer holidays.

‘Which in my case is partly true,’ Sophie acknowledged. ‘Although Rosa says we’ll be spending most of the time at their beach house. I’ll still need a few little extras like shorts and swimwear.’

Callie wore a horrified expression. ‘Swimwear! You realise I need to find a costume if we’re to start swimming next week? Do they make them in my size?’

*

‘Why aren’t you buying a bikini?’ Callie asked, when she and Sophie went shopping.

‘I don’t like them. I always find them uncomfortable, besides, you have to look like Rosa, complete with sun tan, to wear one. I prefer swimming costumes. I think they’re far more flattering.’

‘Mmm, I suppose you could be right. Especially if you wear one of those pareo-thingies slung nonchalantly around your hips.’

‘What’s so funny?’ Sophie asked, spying Callie suffused with laughter.

‘I suddenly thought of me in a pareo. Do you think Mum would miss one of her double sheets?’

*

In the ensuing weeks with Sophie’s help, an enormous amount of will power and a ‘Patrick Murphy’ in every room of the flat, Callie began to take on a new shape.

‘Look at my uniform!’ She called one morning, pinching at loose folds of blue and white fabric, while her eyes filled with tears. ‘I know it’s not much, but at least I can buy something that doesn’t resemble a Millets tent for St. Patrick's Day.’

‘Don’t forget: keep it dark and keep it simple,’ Sophie advised, when Callie went shopping for a dress.

‘Like black or navy-blue?’

Sophie nodded. ‘I know you’ve a thing about emerald green, but you’ll find darker shades and toning tights – sheer not opaque – far more flattering.’

Callie gave a wry smile. ‘You’re probably right. It might be St Patrick’s Day and everyone will be singing
Forty
Shades
of
Green
, but I don’t want to turn up looking like the
Incredible
Hulk
, do I?’

On St. Patrick's Day, Sophie thrust an enormous bouquet of daffodils into Callie’s arms. ‘These are for your mother. And yes, before you say anything, I do know daffodils are usually associated with the Welsh and St David’s Day. Believe it or not, Chris in the florists told me this variety is actually called St. Patrick’s Day. I thought they seemed highly appropriate.’

‘How lovely. Sophie … are you sure you won’t come and join in the fun?’

‘Thanks – but no. I’ll stay here and take a look through that suitcase of clothes Sean kindly brought round. Aunt Edna rang to say her Ladies’ Circle is having a jumble sale. I’ll take what I don’t want when I visit them after Easter.’

‘They’ll be so pleased to see you. It must be ages since you’ve been to Norfolk.’

‘Mmm. I’ll just be able to squeeze in a weekend before Rosa returns.’

Callie paused in the doorway. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve – er – any news of Carlos?’

‘No. He only rings when Rosa’s here.’

‘Oh, Sophie! If only Carlos—’

‘If only you’d get a move on Rose-Marie Callaghan! Am I giving you a lift to the Nag’s Head or not?’

‘I’ll stop on the main road?’ Sophie said, drawing to a halt. ‘I absolutely refuse to drop you at the back door tonight. Before you ask, you look absolutely stunning. Your mum won’t even recognise you. You heard what Sean said when he brought my suitcase.’

Stepping from the car, Callie gave a gasp of horror.

‘What’s up? You haven’t laddered your tights?’

‘No. It’s not that. It’s him! Patrick, he’s walking up the road. What do I do now?’

‘Just have a truly wonderful time,’ Sophie called, driving away.

Chapter 7

Several weeks later reporting for duty, Sophie was startled to hear a voice boom.

‘Blimey son! I bet you didn’t ’alf make the earth move when you landed. I only ’ope there was no one passin’ under that tree at the time!’

‘No, Mum. Course not. Don’t be daft!’

Make
the
earth
move
Sophie reflected. Just like the boy who was being wheeled to X-ray, Callie had once had a serious weight problem. Now, thanks to the sudden reappearance of the amazing Patrick Murphy, not only was the earth moving again but also her excess pounds. In the past six weeks she’d lost over a stone.

Offering silent thanks for the wonderful man who’d transformed her friend’s life, Sophie went in search of the next patient. What was it the nurse had said, a two year-old with a peanut up his nose? Her thoughts still on Callie, she gave a wry smile, though not to be recommended they were far less fattening that way.

‘Of course it can’t last.’ Callie said, peeling back the lid from a carton of yoghurt.

‘Why can’t it?’

‘Because the minute he goes away I shall get all depressed and start bingeing.’

‘Callie! Patrick’s only been here a few months. You told me it was going to take ages to build that road. Have you seen the progress to date?’

Callie shook her head, peering into the yoghurt for pieces of black cherry.

Spooning the froth on her cappuccino Sophie looked up deeply reflective. ‘I’m no construction engineer. But take it from me a certain Mr Murphy is going to be around for a very long time. Why not ask him how long he’s going to be here?’

‘I don’t like to. He might think I’m getting serious.’

‘You mean to say you’re not!’

‘I suppose I am in a way. I’ve never known anyone quite like him before. He’s so gorgeous ... and—’

‘You’re madly in love with him?’

‘How did you know?’

‘Because it shows silly. Gracious! There’d be no need for slimming clubs if every overweight female had three months with Patrick Murphy.’

‘Oh, Sophie, I’d get ever so jealous if they did.’

‘Good! So the best way to prevent your man from opening a ‘
Peel
Off
The
Pounds
with
Patrick
’
club is to be your sweet, natural self.’

‘You honestly believe that?’

Sophie gave a reassuring nod and finished her coffee. ‘I’d better be going.’

‘Speaking of going, it won’t be long before you go to Portugal with Rosa. Have you done all your shopping?’

‘Such that it is; a couple of swimsuits, T-shirts and shorts. Not forgetting that super trouser suit I bought thanks to Monty and Edna’s generosity.’

‘Oh, yes, the beige linen. That will look super with your colouring and sun tan.’

‘If I get a sun tan.’

‘You will. Just remember to take it easy the first week.’

‘Believe me I intend to. After these past frenetic weeks in A & E, I’m leaving all the running round to Rosa. Knowing she’ll be catching up with all her friends, I don’t intend to cramp her style. As for me, I shall be perfectly content to sit in the shade and read. By the way thanks for the book. I’m saving it for my holiday reading.’

*

Callie frowned watching Sophie pack her small suitcase, convinced she wasn’t taking enough clothes.

‘Don’t forget I’m not Rosa,’ Sophie reminded her. ‘Nor will I let the side down. I believe in travelling light – doing a Cliff Richard, isn’t that what you called it ages ago?’

‘If you’re sure?’

‘I am. Most of my clothes are of the mix and match variety. And if I hand-wash my smalls at night, they’ll be dry by morning.’

Callie suppressed a smile. ‘Which is why I have a big suitcase and you have a little one. Quite simply your smalls
are
– and mine
aren’t
!'

‘Ah! But your smalls are getting smaller, if that pretty set of undies you bought in M&S is anything to go by. I take it they were for Patrick’s benefit?’

Blushing, Callie twisted her fingers in her recently shortened curls. ‘Mmm. He’s suggested going to Norfolk for the weekend. Only I think we’ve left it too late to book anywhere.’

‘Surely not? Sophie said, reminded of the latest letter from her aunt. ‘Have you considered Casa Edna? Although Casa Edna’s not The Ritz.’

‘We didn’t want The Ritz – not this time, anyway. We wanted somewhere quiet where we can be alone and enjoy each other’s company.’

‘You can certainly do that,’ called Sophie, hurrying to the phone to ring her aunt.

Minutes later, when she reappeared, she announced, ‘Right. That’s settled. Their best double room, complete with corner bath ensuite. Sorry I can’t provide the Van Cleef & Arpels, I finished that ages ago. You’ll have to buy your own I’m afraid.’

‘What about the cost? Won’t it be expensive?’

‘The bath oil? I haven’t a clue. Carlos bought it for me.’

‘Actually … I meant the room at Casa Edna.’

‘Oops! Another Fuller
faux
pas
!’ Sophie blushed. ‘Actually, it was Uncle Monty who answered the phone. A special price for a special person, he said, because you and your family have been so kind to me. Typical of Uncle Monty, he never forgets a kindness ... nor does he forget when he’s been shabbily treated.’

‘Like that business with the wedding invitation?’

‘Yes. I confess I did think he was over-reacting a bit at first. Then Edna let slip Darryl had once borrowed a considerable sum of money from Monty and never repaid it.’ Walking to her wardrobe, Sophie took out her beige linen suit. ‘It’s funny, really. Most people have a new outfit when they go to a wedding. I get one for
not
going. Or at least for not being invited!’

‘Speaking of weddings, don’t forget your book,’ Callie said, tracing her finger over the picture of the church door on the front cover. ‘
Craven’s
Bride
… sounds intriguing, doesn’t it? Do you think that will ever be us? Brides I mean.’

‘From where I’m standing, I’d say there’s a pretty strong possibility. Promise me you’ll fill me in with all your news the minute I’m back from my holiday.’

‘Yours might be a great deal more exciting,’

‘I doubt it, but I’ll take lots of photos to show you. Especially of Rosa’s family and their beach house and villa, not to mention her dreaded grandmother and Augustina.’

Callie shook her head sadly, watching Sophie close the lid of her suitcase. The one person she had chosen deliberately
not
to mention was Carlos!

*

Stuck in a choking traffic jam on the outskirts of Heathrow, Sophie was deeply envious of Callie and Patrick enjoying the peace and tranquillity of Norfolk. This current journey was a nightmare. Almost as bad as the last time she’d driven to Heathrow. The night she’d gone to fetch Carlos. Reminded of the miserable late October evening when both their tempers had been decidedly frayed, she felt a flood of colour flush her cheeks. How short she’d been with him and how she’d gloated watching him struggle into her car. Nine months later she was here again. This time, Rosa’s father had insisted on a taxi.

Watching the cabbie struggle to deposit Rosa’s luggage on the pavement outside departures, Sophie stretched her legs and tugged at the flight bag wedged uncomfortably between her knees. Despite Callie’s earlier concerns it was just as well she was travelling light. Once Rosa’s luggage had been deposited in the boot – and even on the back seat – there’d been little room for anyone else.

‘I’ll get a trolley,’ she called, watching Rosa pay the bemused taxi driver, already contemplating how much Rosa would be paying in excess baggage.

‘No problem,’ Rosa announced at check-in handing over a handful of notes which would have kept Sophie in housekeeping for weeks.

Relieved to be parted from her baggage, Rosa was filled with renewed enthusiasm for the prospect of yet more shopping. Waving her passport in the air and depositing her handbag and flight bag on the security-belt, she was already mapping out her plan of attack: Gap, Liberty, Swatch, Austin Reed and Timberland.

‘We can do Tie Rack, Selfridges and Bally, after we’ve had a coffee,’ she told Sophie. ‘And, please remind me to buy something for Augustina.’

*

I
never
thought
I
could
get
so
exhausted
simply
from
watching
someone
shop
, Sophie scribbled on a postcard to Callie which she dropped in the post box by duty free.
Rosa
last
seen
heading
for
the
diamond
shop
,
no
doubt
seeking
inspiration
for
her
engagement
ring
.
Hope
you
had
a
great
time
in
Norfolk
.
See
you
in
three
weeks
.
Lots
of
Love
.
Sophie
xxx

‘I think I have everything,’ Rosa gasped, breathless, hurrying to Sophie’s side when their flight was called. Everything but the kitchen sink, Sophie refrained from adding. In many ways Rosa was still so naïve. But then, why shouldn’t she be excited? She was, after all, returning to her family and her future husband.

Sophie started to panic, feeling a familiar churning in the pit of her stomach. Something was already warning her that this holiday was not a good idea. Too late to change her mind, she relieved Rosa of some of her purchases, fumbled for her boarding card and joined the crowd heading for the departure gate.

‘Oh! Isn’t this exciting?’ Rosa cried, dark eyes sparkling, when the plane taxied down the runway. ‘To think you will meet my family at last. I have told them so much about you. Mother says she already knows you because Carlos and I have often said—’

‘Carlos? But Carlos doesn’t know me. We met only briefly, and that—’

‘That was enough, as far as Carlos was concerned.’ Rosa explained. ‘Now let me think. What does he say exactly? Ah! I remember. It is the first impression that counts.’

Sophie wanted to curl up and die.
First
impression
? Carlos’s first impression of her had been of an irate, bad tempered woman, charging ahead of him through Heathrow!

With a sideways glance, she saw Rosa had donned her earphones and was listening to a CD of her favourite boy band. Which means I can close my eyes and relax for a couple of hours, she thought, appreciatively. Only she couldn’t, because every time she closed her eyes, the familiar haunting strains of
Mood
Indigo
reverberated in her head.

‘Blue Moods,’ she whispered in trepidation, willing the tune to go away. For goodness’ sake Sophie, stop it! It’s bad luck. Think of something else. Unfortunately, the next
something
else
had an even more disturbing effect on her. Instead of blue moods, she found herself thinking of blue eyes. The navy blue eyes belonging to Rosa’s cousin. The handsome and enigmatic Carlos Martins!

When the plane circled low over Faro airport, Rosa could barely contain her excitement. ‘If we’d been going to my parents’ apartment we would have flown into Lisbon,’ she explained, gathering together an assortment of bags. ‘Tonight, however, we shall go straight to their villa and later to the beach house.’

Stepping from the aircraft Sophie felt the intense summer heat hit her full in the face; if it was like this in the evening what would it be like during the day? And she’d forgotten to bring a sun hat. For the moment, that was the least of her problems. Rosa, she discerned, was already storming ahead through passport control and baggage reclaim.

Leaving Sophie struggling with the luggage trolley, Rosa headed straight for a casually, yet expensively dressed couple, waiting at arrivals. José Ramirez reached out and embraced his daughter warmly.

‘Rosa! My dear girl!

‘Father! Mother!’ Oh! It is so good to be home. Not that I haven’t been happy in England with–’ clasping her hand to her mouth, Rosa turned horrified eyes behind her.
Sophie
! She’d been so excited to greet her parents, she’d completely forgotten Sophie.

Rosa’s parents shook their heads in bewilderment as their daughter rushed to the aid of a pale-skinned, young woman of petite proportions, who was trying to balance numerous suitcases, flight bags and assorted plastic carriers on a wayward luggage trolley.

‘Sophie, I am
so
sorry! Please forgive me. I forget you. Come, you must meet my mother and father. It is all right. They speak quite good English.’