Escape for the Summer (16 page)

As they walked through Rock, Jonty gallantly positioned himself at the kerbside. It made a lovely change; Tom would have willingly shoved Andi under a juggernaut to save his own skin, she now realised. On the way, she and Jonty chatted easily about the town: he liked to spend most of his time at the boatyard or out on the water, whereas Andi had always headed for the beach or spent her time reading in the garden. They both agreed that the town had changed hugely over the past few years, though.

“Take this house here,” Andi said, pausing to point up at Ocean View. The house lay before them, reclining on manicured lawns like a sultana on her cushioned throne and turning golden in the sunset. It had certainly been smartened up since those long-gone days of her seaside memories. “That’s the one that we always used to rent for the summer. Back then it was a piece of faded splendour. The paint was peeling, the floorboards creaked and the garden was a wilderness, but we absolutely loved it.” She paused, shading her eyes against the bright light. “It looks like it’s been spruced up and extended too, which is a bit of a shame. It’s like something out of a magazine now, whereas before it was real. I expect it’s probably had the designer seaside makeover inside too, for some rich city boy who sees it for a week a year.”

Jonty cleared his throat. “Uh, Andi? I think I ought to tell you now – that’s Simon’s place.”

Andi blushed to roots of her hair. Why hadn’t she had her tongue removed at birth?

“Oh,” was all she could say.

“Oh,” agreed Jonty, but his eyes were crinkled and full of mirth. “So, will I tell Mel to reconsider the decor? Or shall I leave that to you?”

Andi swatted him on the arm. It was strong and muscular and she drew her hand back quickly.

“I think the less I say the better,” she told him.

The old wrought-iron gate that Andi remembered had been hanging on one hinge and always opened with a creak and a thud. As she recalled those noises, a flood of nostalgic memories came back to her, as striking and diverse as an Instagram page. That gate was long gone now, replaced by a smart pair of high wooden ones, which swung open easily. The old path that snaked its way through a maze of tangled rhododendrons and elderly azaleas crunched underfoot with freshly raked gravel and had been widened to allow cars to pass. The view, though, was unchanged; it was still a vast living picture of scudding clouds, white-tipped waves and fields of golden wheat beyond the river that rippled in imitation of the Atlantic below. It was so achingly familiar that Andi could almost believe that at any moment her mother would shout for her to come in for supper. Even after all this time the knowledge she would never hear that voice again still felt like a punch to the guts.

“Are you OK?” Jonty asked as she came to a halt. “Is it weird to see it again?”

Andi took a deep breath. The place looked different, that was for certain. There had never been parking outside before and neither had there been a deep blue infinity pool perched on the edge of a smooth green lawn. Wow. It made her feel as though she could dive into the cool water, then down and down into the town below.

“It’s just changed a little,” she remarked tactfully.

“I think it’s been pretty sympathetically done,” Jonty said, and he was so hopeful as he spoke that her heart went out to him.

“Don’t take any notice of me,” she told him. “I’m being nostalgic. It’s just that this house always meant something special to me. I think it’s probably the place I’ve been the happiest.”

“The happiest in your childhood?”

Andi couldn’t really think of another point in her adult life where she’d been as effortlessly happy as she’d felt here.

“I think at any time,” she told him thoughtfully. “I spent a lot of time here with my mother just before she died. We never came back afterwards, but I thought about it a lot.”

Jonty’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “I’m sorry. That must have been tough.”

Tough hadn’t come close. Still, there was no point dwelling on it now, no matter how easy to chat to and sympathetic he was. Jonty was a total stranger and, besides, some things were better left in the past.

“It was a long time ago. Definitely before that little cottage was built.”

He didn’t push but let her change the subject, and Andi liked him for that. There was nothing worse than people who wanted her to spill her guts like something from
The
Jeremy Kyle Show
.

“That’s the pool house where I’m staying. That’s new, but they’ve made a real effort to build it in the same style. It’s a great place to crash for the summer. It even has a wood burner for those blazing warm August nights!”

Andi thought the pool house was sweet. It stood where there had once been a large and ugly asbestos garage. Not all changes were bad; she had to make sure she remembered that. The pool house was built of wood and made to look like a New England cottage, so that it resembled a miniature one-storey version of the main house. There was a deck complete with a rocking chair; ivy and dog roses trailed up the walls and a battered old Defender was parked at a wonky angle by the three steps leading to the duck-egg-blue door.

“It’s really pretty,” she said, and was rewarded with a smile of such sweetness that she had to look away. There was something about Jonty that invited confidences and made her tempted to open her mouth and pour out all her secrets – which was so not a good idea. Tom already knew enough of her secrets, and that did not make for a good night’s sleep.

The inside of the main house was pretty much as Andi remembered it, but it had undergone the obligatory seaside-chic makeover. She was pleased to see that many beautiful old features of the house still remained, though – from the carved newel posts of the winding staircase to the wooden floors, which shone with beeswax. Ocean View felt the same as it always had, peaceful and still, as though it was slumbering in the late evening sunshine.

Odd. It felt like home still, even after all this time.

“Si will be in the kitchen,” Jonty said. “That’s where everyone hangs out when they’re here.”

Sure enough, when they entered the huge kitchen, complete with duck-egg-blue Aga and giant American-style fridge, a lanky figure was slumped at the kitchen island, several empty lager cans lined up next to him while he tapped away on a laptop. When Jonty slapped him on the back he jumped so hard he nearly fell off his stool.

“Shit, Jonty, do you have to creep up on me like that?” he gasped, raking a hand through thinning sandy hair. “I thought you were Mel come back early. You know what she thinks of me playing
Warcraft
when I’m supposed to be working.”

So this was what captains of industry got up to in their spare time? Pretending to be orcs? Andi supposed it was one way of releasing the pressure.

Jonty introduced them; then, while he fetched a couple of Buds from the fridge, Andi turned to Simon.

“The house is lovely,” she said warmly.

“It is great isn’t it? We’re so lucky to be able to stay here,” Si agreed. “I can’t take any of the credit for it though—”

“Where’s my big sis?” Jonty interrupted, leaning against the butler’s sink as he necked his beer. Muscles rippled in his tanned throat and his tee shirt rode up, revealing a taut, tanned stomach. Andi looked away.

“She’s taken the kids to Wadebridge to see a movie,” Simon replied. “I’m supposed to be having a bit of a catch-up on Pasties Drekly
while they’re out. I have to finish tonight because we’re having a day out tomorrow.” He smiled at Andi. “I think this is where you might become my new best friend! Jonty tells me you’re an amazing bookkeeper?”

Andi blushed. “Jonty is very kind.”

Simon grinned. “No, Jonty is very honest. If he thinks somebody is worth paying attention to, then he’s generally right. Although, come to think of it, there is one exception to that rule – and talking of the lovely Jax, she’s left two messages on the answerphone today, mate. She’s certainly persistent.”

Jonty groaned. “Don’t start, Si. I’ll speak to her.”

Simon winked at Andi. “I’ve heard that before.” To Jonty he added, “She’s not giving up easily. Maybe it’s because of—”

“Mate, lay off.” Jonty’s tone of voice said that he wasn’t going to be argued with. “I mean it. I don’t want to talk about
any
of that stuff.”

Simon held up his hands up in mock surrender.

“None of my business, fam,” he said quickly. “My lips are sealed.”

Andi looked from one to the other. There were more undercurrents flowing here than the riptide beyond the river. Jonty had a hunted expression on his face and Simon just looked embarrassed.

“Jax is my ex,” Jonty explained to Andi when an awkward silence fell. “It’s a long story and not one I’ll bore you with right now.”

Nobody knew better than Andi about long stories and exes. The Tom saga made
War and Peace
look like a comic. So that was why Jonty was hanging out in Rock for the summer and living with his family: he had broken up with his partner. Suddenly everything made a bit more sense.

“Aren’t they always?” was all she said.

Simon finished his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. With his baggy jeans and faded tee shirt, Andi thought he looked more like an overgrown teenager than one of the most powerful men in media, and this made her relax.

“Let’s have a chat about this job,” he suggested.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” said Jonty, finishing his Bud and lobbing the bottle into the bin. He smiled at Andi and mouthed
good luck.
“I’ll be in the pool house, guys. Give us a shout when you’re done.”

Once Jonty had left, Simon and Andi chatted about work. Any nerves she may have had were quickly dispelled because Si was so easy to talk to and soon put her at ease. Before long they were chatting away about her previous experience. Although she didn’t mention Hart Frozer or Safe T Net, Simon was still impressed by the companies she had worked for and her first-class degree. The more she chatted, the more confident Andi felt. She knew she could take some pressure off him and hopefully learn a lot too in the process.

“How about we give this a trial run for a couple of weeks and see how it works out?” Simon said finally. “You seem really well up on it all. No wonder you wrestled Jonty for my
FT
.”

She smiled. “Force of habit.”

“Well, it was worth sacrificing my paper to find somebody as well qualified as you,” said Simon with feeling. “I’ll call your referees first thing tomorrow and if that’s all in order how about you start here on Monday? Three days a week, eight hours a day, at twenty-five pounds an hour? What do you say?”

Andi did the mental arithmetic and nearly fell off her stool. That was six hundred pounds a week, before tax. More money than she had dreamed of being able to make in Rock! She’d be able to start making inroads into her debts in no time.

“I say yes!” she told him.

“I think you must be my guardian angel or something,” Andi remarked to Jonty, later on that evening when they drove back through the town. The night was falling in earnest now, the last crimson fingernail of the sunset slipping into the inky sea and twilight seeping over the rooftops while shadows pooled in the streets. Out on the estuary, lights twinkled from the cabins of boats that had called in and anchored up for an evening at the restaurants and bars. Stars speckled the sky like glitter on a Christmas card, and across the way the lights of Padstow trembled in the water like jewels. It was so pretty, and Andi felt that at long last maybe her luck had started to turn. “I owe you one.”

Jonty shrugged. “Not at all. I was just helping out. This way Mel and Simon actually get a holiday; they’ll spend some time with the kids and I’ll not have to be a free babysitter. You see: I’m not all heart. It was motivated by a selfish desire not to have to play
Guitar Hero
non-stop!”

The Defender was cruising slowly along Rock Road. It was a balmy evening and the town thronged with people dressed up for dinner and teenagers on their way to a beach party. Jonty pulled up at the jetty and together they watched the boats bobbing gently on the swell of the tide. It was a world away from London; Andi felt her pulse start to slow for the first time in days.

Jonty pointed out to sea at a powerboat tearing in at breakneck speed. “Look at that,” he said. “It’s the tender for that huge Sunseeker out there. Rumour has it that’s owned by Vassilly Alexshov.”

Andi was none the wiser. “Vassilly Alexshov?”

“The oligarch? He’s just bought Dukes Rangers FC.”

“Isn’t that Callum South’s old team?”

Jonty looked at her, surprised. “I didn’t have you down as a footy fan.”

“Believe me, I’m not.” Tom’s passion for the Premier League – which tended to involve sitting around swilling beer and hogging the telly – had driven Andi round the twist. “It’s just that my friend Gemma is a big fan of Cal’s. She’s rather hoping to get herself onto his show.”

He raised his eyebrows. Andi found herself thinking that she liked the way Jonty’s emotions flickered over his face like sunshine and shadows over the landscape. There was an honesty there that was very refreshing.

“Good luck to her!” Jonty said. “He’s renting Valhalla, that carbuncle of an overgrown greenhouse that’s next door to my – or rather, I should say Simon’s – place. I see him most mornings out pounding the pavement and looking fed up to the back teeth with it. He was out on the water yesterday trying to ski. It wasn’t a pretty sight. His camera crew were wetting themselves.”

Andi felt sorry for Callum. It couldn’t be much fun to be ridiculed, no matter how much money it earned him.

They stood in companionable silence for a bit watching the small boat slicing through the water towards the shore. Once it was moored up by several uniformed crew members, a stunning blonde in a grey lace Versace dress alighted. Her long hair rippled over shoulders as smooth and brown as toffee and her dress clung to her curves like a second skin. She teetered precariously across the jetty in the most enormous glittery sandals and eventually had to be carried to the shore, her laughter tinkling in the evening stillness. Several people at the water’s edge were watching this spectacle, including a tall man with high Slavic cheekbones, a hawklike profile and a long mane of treacle-coloured hair. He watched the girl intently as he leaned against his Aston Martin and drew on a cigarette, the red sparks fantailing towards the estuary as he flicked the butt away. He seemed absolutely mesmerised.