A Summer to Remember. Sue Moorcroft

ignored his mother’s slight eye-roll and accepted. Though he’d been much more relaxed and carefree when he was younger, Lee had become a solemn man who took single fatherhood seriously, pragmatic about living with his parents until his place in Northamptonshire was sold. A beer or two with Aaron might be the social highlight of his week, particularly as Yvonne would be busy with Aunt Norma and less available for babysitting.

      ‘Thanks.’ Aaron took the proffered beer along with a seat at the table. ‘I’ve come to mention the new caretaker at Roundhouse Row. To everybody,’ he added.

      Yvonne, busy stacking tins of soup in a cupboard, glanced over her shoulder. ‘I didn’t think you’d advertised.’

      ‘It became unnecessary.’ His words seemed to ring in his own ears as he added, ‘Clancy Moss has taken the position herself.’

      Lee, who’d been making for another chair, halted.

      Yvonne dropped a tin of soup with a clang. ‘Why on earth do you want her to do it?’ she demanded.

      Aaron’s eyes remained on Lee. ‘I would have avoided it if I could.’

      Although he’d paled, Lee remained composed. ‘OK, thanks for telling me.’ He looked at the bottle in his hand and then around the kitchen as if suddenly struggling to remember where he was or what he was doing. ‘I’ll just go and check Daisy’s OK.’

      When the back door had closed behind him, Yvonne rounded on Aaron, pink and damp-eyed. ‘This won’t be good for Lee. Can you stop her?’

      Aaron sighed. ‘No. She has as much say in it as I do.’ He deliberated over how much to reveal. ‘She’s not here to make trouble, Mum. From what she told me, she’s had a hard time of it and hasn’t got many places to go. Lee seemed to take it OK. Let’s not make a big deal out of it, in case he gets anxious.’

      Yvonne gazed at him, eyes dark with worry. ‘We certainly don’t want that.’

       Chapter Four

      On Monday morning Clancy awoke in an unfamiliar bed in the only-slightly familiar room and the memory of why she was there crashed in on her.

      Will.

      Renée.

      Will with Renée. The images of them together flashed before her eyes.

      Stop it! she told herself sternly. She was in a new bed in her new room. She had a new life in a tiny jewel of a village high up above the sea. A wedge of sunlight sliced through the dormer window onto the floor, as if tempting her to get up and warm her feet on the wooden boards. Once that was accomplished, getting on with the day became easier.

      First job when she got downstairs: sit down and write a shopping list.

      Bedclothes

      Towels

      Curtains (downstairs and loft)

      A rap at the front door made her drop her pen and jump up to answer, expecting it to be Aaron, though it was fifteen minutes earlier than they’d arranged. But when she threw the door open it was to find a woman standing there, her curls dancing in the breeze. ‘Hello, Clancy. I thought it best if we cleared the air.’

      Clancy stepped back, feeling her cheeks heating up. ‘Oh! Mrs De Silva. Yvonne. Come in.’ The De Silvas must truly still be harbouring ill-feeling towards Alice and her family if air-clearing had to be done.

      Yvonne looked strained and pinched. She stepped inside, her gaze roaming around the big echoing space of the ground floor in which the few pieces of furniture now in Clancy’s care were almost lost. She wasted no time getting down to business. ‘Are you absolutely sure about living here?’ Her hair was untidy. Not the tousled look her son carried off so well, but more the bedhead style of someone who hadn’t been able to wait to come and air her concerns.

      Clancy had been about to offer her a cup of tea, but Yvonne’s words made her suspect it wasn’t going to be a long visit. ‘Nearly sure,’ she answered, honestly.

      ‘I see.’ Yvonne gazed at Clancy, her dark eyes tired. ‘I won’t beat about the bush. I’m worried. When Alice left so cruelly Lee was so hurt … I was terrified at the way he crashed, emotionally. I thought he’d end up in either the psychiatric ward or the morgue. It destroys you to see your child that way and know someone else is responsible.’

      ‘Of course,’ Clancy said softly.

      Yvonne sighed and seated herself at the kitchen table. ‘Fergus says I have to remember you aren’t Alice.’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘But humans want someone to blame when things go wrong.’

      Clancy tried to laugh, but, as much for Alice as herself, it tried to turn into a sob in her throat. ‘I’d heard villages were friendly places.’

      Embarrassment crept across Yvonne’s face. ‘I’m sorry. You must think I’m a horror. But Lee … I thought he’d made such progress when he came back here to live a few months ago. Then Aaron told us about you turning up, and the look on Lee’s face—’ She had to stop to swallow.

      Her own throat aching, Clancy nodded. She’d liked Yvonne before and understood she was only paying this visit because, in her eyes, one of her children was being threatened. For an instant she was tempted to cave in. Say, ‘OK, I’ll find somewhere else. I’ve certainly done it before. I could go out to Namibia where my parents are working on a new school. Or find out where Alice is and see if I can join her …’

      But, then, into her mind flashed more of the memories she’d managed to shove away, earlier. That awful afternoon in the conference room. Asila, Monty, Tracey … and Will, looking absolutely wretched, as if, she remembered thinking, she’d been the one to cheat. Monty saying, ‘I appreciate you didn’t like the way we wanted to handle things but we were only thinking of IsVid.’

      ‘But it’s not fair to let people think it was me—!’

      ‘It’s not personal,’ Monty had snapped. ‘All our livelihoods are tied up in IsVid.’

      But it had felt personal. Her friends … Asila, so petite that it always looked as if her glorious black hair would pull her over, eyes filled with tears. Jon ‘Monty’ Montagu regarding Clancy angrily through his glasses. Tracey, big, cushiony Tracey, troubled but resolute, though it had been in her arms Clancy had wept in pain and humiliation when Will’s infidelity had come to light in such an excruciatingly public way.

      Clancy remembered gasping as if plunged into ice water. She, the victim, was being sacrificed for the business.

      She’d had little choice but to go – though not before she’d told them a couple of financial truths about what her leaving meant, ending coldly, ‘You don’t think I’m going to just give you my share of the business, do you? A fifth of everything you’re guarding so blindly is mine.’ That had taken them aback, especially Will, judging from his stark expression. She hadn’t been able to withhold a parting shot. ‘Next time you cheat on someone, Will, you need to think where it leaves everyone financially.’ Then she’d stared Monty down. ‘No pat answer for that one?’ But she’d known lots of things were more important than money. Lots. She’d lost Will, her best friends and her work.

      And she was not about to be the loser again.

      ‘I can only tell you what I told Aaron,’ she said to Yvonne, making her voice sympathetic. ‘I need somewhere to be and something to do. I’m sorry Lee was hurt – and I know how he feels – but I didn’t hurt him.’ Clancy manufactured a smile. ‘At least I’ll be doing a great job for your other son’s investment. I’m going to caretake the hell out of Roundhouse Row.’

      Yvonne sighed, murmuring enigmatically, ‘You strike me as that kind. Thank you for being frank, at least.’ She rose, and so did Clancy