The Last Days of Summer: The best feel-good summer read for 2017

And that was more painful than any of the scenarios I’d imagined, when I’d thought of this moment.

“Hello, Kia.” Ellie swept past me with swift but elegant grace, to the drinks cabinet, where Isabelle handed her something pink with lots of ice. Therese passed me her own gin and tonic, since it appeared Isabelle wasn’t about to offer me one, and I gratefully took a gulp. It was stunningly strong.

Two years, and she just said, ‘Hello.’ Like nothing had happened. Like I was a passing acquaintance, holding no importance in her life.

Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I shouldn’t.

But she still mattered to me, and the distance in her eyes cut me deep, even through my costume.

“Ellie…” I started to get to my feet, but Mum stepped between us before I could get any further. Isabelle, for her part, had already dragged Ellie over to the window, murmuring something about table favours.

They had to know, right? If not the details, they knew I’d wronged Ellie. Why else would they be running interference between us?

“Now, Kia,” Mum said, pulling me back down onto the sofa. “Tell me. What are you wearing for the party? Because I’m sure there are still some of your old clothes up in the attic…”

While I was ignoring the question, in favour of trying to eavesdrop on the conversation at the other end of the room, Therese said, “She’s wearing a vintage sage-green frock with silver accents.” She turned to look at me directly, and added, “It’s very beautiful.”

If I’d only known that Therese had such a costume store, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing any of my own clothes.

“Will Nathaniel be coming down for dinner, at least?” I took another sip of gin and tonic. “After all, he’s the one who demanded I be here.” Without him, the house felt disjointed, like a collection of people in a waiting room who didn’t quite know each other well enough to make conversation. Once Nathaniel arrived, I hoped we’d feel more like a family again.

Therese shrugged. “Goodness knows. He’s been working so hard lately we’ve barely seen him.”

Over by the window, Isabelle’s glass slipped from her hand and smashed against the sideboard. Mum rushed over to help Ellie mop up and, content that no one was hurt, I lowered my voice and asked Therese, “What’s he working on?” And why was Isabelle freaking out about it so much?

Therese looked away from Isabelle and back to me, her eyes concerned. “Nobody knows. Maybe he’ll tell you – and I want you straight down to my cottage spilling the beans if he does. I’m ferociously curious.”

Dad appeared in the doorway, and I found myself being thoroughly hugged again. “Because I really did miss you,” he whispered, before letting me go and announcing the imminent arrival of food in the dining room.

If it wasn’t for the intervention campaign my mother and Isabelle were running between Ellie and me, I might almost have felt welcomed home. As it was, Mum ushered me towards the head of the table, just as Isabelle herded Ellie towards the other end. Or possibly, Ellie was herding Isabelle; our grandmother was leaning on Ellie’s arm quite heavily, I noticed.

I found myself sitting beside the empty seat reserved for Nathaniel, with Therese beside me, and I looked up at the doorway at just the wrong moment – just as Greg walked in.

I’d known I wasn’t ready for this moment. But I hadn’t realised how unprepared Greg would be. His eyes met mine and widened, the shock clear. Had no one called to tell him I was here? Surely Mum or Isabelle would have done, if they’d known the whole story? So perhaps they didn’t, after all. Ellie sure as hell wouldn’t have called him. And me being here shouldn’t’ve made the damnedest bit of difference to him.

But from the way he looked at me, I knew it did.

He stumbled, grabbing on to the door frame like he’d had too many of Mum’s cocktails. I held myself very still, tearing my eyes away to stare down at my empty place mat, focusing on keeping my expression neutral, my shoulders straight. Trusting in the red lipstick and an eighty-year-old dress to keep me safe.

“Kia,” Greg said, so I had to look up. His gaze was fixed on me, and I winced. There went any hope of pretending that it was all in the past. That nothing had happened at all. I could feel our whole history in his gaze.

I just hoped the others couldn’t see it, too.

“Hello, Greg,” I said, as coolly as I could. Then I turned my attention back to my place mat, confused. Surely this should hurt more? As much as I hoped I’d moved on, that I was over Greg, I’d loved him once. I’d expected it to cut deep, seeing him again.

As it was, I felt more jealousy that he still had a place at Rosewood, than pain that our romance was over.

“Greg, you’re down here between me and Ellie,” Isabelle said, patting the chair beside her as she eyed me with suspicion. Great. Well, if she hadn’t known what Ellie and I had fallen out over before, she had a pretty good clue now. “We’re sitting boy–girl tonight.”

“But, Grandma,” Caroline said, peeking around Greg, where he was still stalled in the doorway, “there aren’t enough men for that. You always said…”

“Never mind what I said, Caroline,” Isabelle snapped, and turned her attention back to Ellie and to Greg, who’d finally found his way to his seat.

Caroline huffed as she marched into the dining room dressed in what looked like a vintage cream lace dress, presumably one of Therese’s, with a sparkly tiara on top of her light brown hair. The hem of her too-long dress was green with grass stains.

She was followed at a distance by a tired-looking Edward, who slumped into the seat opposite me. Caroline, on the other hand, clambered immediately into the heavy wooden seat on my right: Nathaniel’s chair.

“I was wondering where you’d got to,” I said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Caro rolled her eyes. “We had to go and get me a dress for the party, even though I said I wanted to wear one from the cottage, and it took ages. Then we were late back, because Dad insisted on going to the supermarket, once he knew you were here, and then you’d gone somewhere, and I didn’t want to miss the fairy wedding in the wood, so I had to throw on my dress and tiara and run down to the toadstool ring.” She pulled a small foot out from under the table to show me her incongruous white trainers. “I didn’t even have time to change my shoes,” she said, mournfully.

I thought that I’d remembered everything about Rosewood and my family, looking back over long nights in Perth. But I’d either forgotten, or never known, that Caroline had such an imagination. I’d certainly never realised before that she was so like me. A fairy wedding in the woods sounded like just the sort of thing I’d have ruined a vintage dress for.

Dad reappeared from the kitchen, a covered casserole dish in his oven-gloved hands, which he deposited in the centre of the table. “Ta-da. Grub’s up.”

It didn’t escape my notice that he’d made Chicken Provençal with thick pasta ribbons and crusty bread – my favourite. Ellie never took to it, mostly because of her irrational fear of olives.

As we all tucked in, conversation was restricted to appreciative noises and requests for condiments. Next to me, Caroline was very carefully removing every single olive from her serving and placing them on the edge of her plate. Edward, almost unconsciously it appeared, was helping himself to the abandoned items and popping them in his mouth in between forkfuls of his own food. I wondered if this was an everyday occurrence between them. Perhaps Edward had actually been hired as a babysitter. It certainly made more sense to me than the idea of him as Nathaniel’s assistant.

“It’s so nice to have all my girls back home together,” Dad said, pouring himself another glass of wine. “It’s been too long.” Ellie didn’t think so, given the nervous way her eyes were flicking between me and Greg. “So, Ellie, Kia, what have you got planned for tomorrow?”

Mum glared at him, and I realised that Dad knew exactly what he was doing: trying to forcibly cram a bridge between Ellie and me.

“I’ve got lots to do for the party,” Ellie said, her voice sweet, and achingly familiar. “It’s going to be a busy day.”

And there, I realised, was my chance to get close to Ellie and start the reconciliation. “I’ll help!”

Ellie looked up with unwelcome surprise, but I kept the smile on my face regardless. Across the table, my mother put down her knife and fork and looked up, smiling equally brightly. “So, Kia, tell us about Scotland!”

I toyed with the last bit of pasta on my plate. “Well, it rains even more than it does here. Other than that…”

“What about work?” Mum pressed. “How’s the newspaper going?”

“It’s fine,” I said, shrugging. It was fine. Predictable, unchallenging and fine. “Busy. You know.”

“You’ve got a new editor,” Therese said helpfully. “Let’s hear some more about him.” She was giving me an opening, I realised. A chance to show everyone – especially Ellie and Greg – that I’d moved on, that I had a new life. But I wasn’t sure telling my family I was having sex with my boss on a regular basis was actually the best way to prove I’d grown up.

“Duncan Fields,” I supplied. “He just moved up from Edinburgh.”

“Brought in from the big city, eh?” Dad said, reaching across Therese for another piece of bread. “Shaking the place up a bit, is he?”

I glanced up at the ceiling. Mostly, Duncan had been shaking cocktails at the bar after work then, later, my bed frame, but I didn’t think that was quite what Dad meant. “Something like that.”

“Well, that could be good for you, I suppose,” Mum said. I resisted the urge to tell Mum that, yes, it was very good for me indeed, thank you. “An office shake-up could mean a promotion for you, after all. Next step on the ladder to the nationals.”

“Mmm, maybe,” I said, in a way I hoped conveyed, ‘but probably not,’ without adding, ‘because Duncan would probably get fired for giving his girlfriend preferential treatment.’ Besides, I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted that London career any more. Some days I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be a reporter.

“Never mind about work,” Isabelle said, pouring herself another glass of wine. “I’m much more interested in your social life. Is there anything at all to do in Perth?”