Summer Loves

‘I’ll say,’ Kirstie went on. ‘When I found out you and Mike came from the same town, went to school together, even, I was literally so thrilled. And I can’t believe I’ve met you! And in a duck costume too! I’ve just got to get a selfie with you.’

‘Phil and Kirstie?’ Millie laughed, thankfully interrupting. ‘Really?’ She turned to Mikey. ‘And you’re no longer Mikey?’

He gave a regretful look. ‘Dropped the ‘y’ when I left Berecombe. We all need to reinvent ourselves, occasionally, don’t we?’

He left the words hanging but Dora knew his inference. Panicking, she clutched at straws. ‘Look, I’m so sorry but we have to go. I’ve still got a ton of ducks to sell.’ As Kirstie got her phone out, she put up her hand. ‘No really, no pictures. The fund-raising isn’t about me. It’s about the Workshop.’

‘No doubt we’ll bump into each other again, Dora.’

‘I’m sure we will Mikey. I mean Mike.’ She grabbed Millie’s arm in a vice-like grip, but before they could escape Millie rattled Dora’s tin at Mike.

‘How many have you left?’ he asked.

‘Twenty-five.’ Dora said it as a challenge, sticking her chin out. ‘Pound a duck.’

The challenge was accepted. ‘I’ll take them all,’ Mike said, with a defiant gleam in his eyes.

Dora peeled off the last numbers from the sheet, took his money and, with barely a thank you, steered Millie away. She shoved her unceremoniously through the crowd to the door. As they left they heard Kirstie’s Made in Chelsea tones complaining that you should never meet your heroes as they always disappoint.

Chapter 3 (#u76395af6-e43e-53fd-8528-23ab0f220c12)

‘How could you show me up in front of him, of all people?’ Dora fell onto the sofa in Millie’s flat.

‘Who?’ Millie dropped her duck head with a relieved sigh. ‘Ooh, it’s been a long night. My feet are killing me. No, Trevor, she warned as the cockapoo nosed it with interest.’

‘Mikey Love, that’s who. Or maybe we ought to call him Mike now.’

‘Yeah, he’s definitely more a Mike now he’s all grown up and gorgeous. Mind you, he was gorgeous at school too.’ Millie’s voice was dreamy. ‘All the girls had a crush on Michael Love, although I seem to remember he only had eyes for one girl.’ Getting up, she went into the kitchen and foraged in the fridge. Brandishing a bottle of white and two glasses, she added, ‘Think we’ve earned this. Tessa was really grateful we helped out.’

‘So she should be.’

Millie poured the wine. ‘Why are you so cross?’

‘Those men! They treated us like shit.’

‘All in good fun. Millie shrugged. ‘They didn’t mean any harm. You just need to elbow them where it hurts.’

‘Is it always like this on a Friday night now?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘So much drinking.’

‘Think you’re a bit out of touch with us commoners,’ Millie observed. ‘Maybe you’ve lived in LA for too long? It was just ordinary Friday night banter.’ She passed over a glass. ‘Here, have some of this.’

Dora sipped her wine and tried not to grimace. It wasn’t the smooth white Californian she was used to. Maybe she had been in the LA bubble for too long? After all, when was the last time she’d been out without a protective entourage? Granted, it was more necessary in the States as she had a bigger fan base there. Putting her wine down, she slipped out of the duck costume, kicked off the horrible tights and lay spread-eagled on the sofa in only her underwear. ‘Oh, that’s better,’ she sighed, feeling better immediately.

Millie laughed. ‘I’ll open a window. Cool you down a bit. Going to be a hot summer, I think. It’s boiling now and it’s only April.’ After opening the window and letting the sea breeze float in, she disappeared to her bedroom and changed. Five minutes later she flopped down on the chair near the window and cackled. ‘If only your adoring fans could see you now.’

Dora didn’t bother opening her eyes. ‘They’ve seen me in less.’

‘Wasn’t quite what I meant.’

This got through. Dora giggled and sat upright. She took another sip of wine and found it tasted better this time. ‘Oh, I’m sorry I’m such a grouch, Mil. Too hot, too tired, too jet-lagged.’

‘Too spoiled?’

Dora pursed her lips. ‘You might have a point. God, I’d love a smoke.’ She gestured to the rejected duck costume, ‘But if all this yellow polyester caught light it would start a fire that would wreck half the town.’ She poked it with a disdainful toe.

‘You’ve never smoked,’ Millie exclaimed in horror.

‘Keeps the weight down.’

‘Dora, you hardly weigh anything now.’

Dora shrugged. ‘A size zero is the norm.’

‘Oh my God, that’s awful.’ Millie drank her wine in one go as a protest.

‘That’s the reality of acting in the States. If you’re under forty, they’ll only cast you if you’re a lollipop head and, if you’re over forty, they don’t cast you at all.’

‘Just as well you’ve still got another ten years, then,’ Millie observed drily.

‘Fifteen. I took five years off and go backwards a year with every birthday.’

‘What a way to make a living. Just as well they pay you so many squillions.’

Dora giggled. ‘True. And there are other perks. Lovely beachfront house in Malibu, hot chauffeur permanently on call.’

‘Well, it’s no wonder you found Friday night in the White Bear a little plebeian.’

‘You been reading those books again?’

‘Have to get my education where I can. Some of us didn’t make it out of Berecombe.’

Dora was silent for a moment. For all her problems, she had at least escaped to go to drama school and, more importantly, still had both parents. No matter how strained her relationship was with them. Poor Millie had had her entire family wiped out in one cruel second when a drugged-up idiot had driven head-on into her parents’ car. ‘I’m sorry, Millie. I’m turning into a real spoilt LA bitch.’

‘Yes you are,’ Millie agreed, without rancour.

‘Love you.’ Dora saluted her oldest friend with her glass before drinking it dry and holding it aloft for a refill. That was the beauty of a proper friendship; you could pick up where you left off.

Millie topped up Dora’s glass. ‘So, is this just a flying visit again?’

‘It will be if you continue to force me to dress up as a duck,’ Dora complained. ‘I’d hardly got off the plane before you attacked me with a feathered head.’

‘Sorry. Zoe was going to do it, but she’s knee-deep in A-Level revision. So come on, how long have we the pleasure of Berecombe’s most famous export this time?’

Dora paused, took a deep breath, then said, ‘Can you keep a secret, Mil?’