A Summer to Remember

But he couldn’t think about it just now, not on an empty stomach. He’d been walking around the fields for what seemed like hours in search of inspiration, resulting in only a few brief sketches, and his hunger had made him gravitate towards the mill where he was sure there’d be something tasty to cook.

For a moment, he thought about Nina and the foolishness of his wild goose chase around Norwich the day before. He couldn’t help feeling sad that he’d never see her again, but there were other things to think about right now.

Crossing the old brick and flint bridge, he gazed up at the three-storey mill house and smiled. The sight of the imposing white house never failed to fill him with joy, and he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. It was a characteristic of so many of his friends, too. Sure, university had beckoned, sending him away, and gap years with travels across Himalayan mountains and South American deserts had enticed many of his friends, but Norfolk had a strange pull on a person and, one by one, each of them had returned.

For an artist, it was a hard place to beat, with the lucidity of its light and the domineering sky. There was always something new to see. A field, for example, would be an arctic-white wilderness one minute and a green paradise the next, and a hedgerow would be a bristly tangle of thorns one season and a perfect lacy froth of flowers soon after. Each season was a gift and Dominic never stopped feeling grateful for that.

He glanced up into the chaste blue sky. Even his brothers Alex and Billy weren’t immune to the charm of the place and both would be spending more time at the mill now that the summer was here. Long weekends would be taken away from their lives in London and, of course, they would both be back for the big party in August.

Dominic shook his head as he thought about his brothers. Alex would never admit to it, but he loved the mill as much as anyone. The only thing was, he loved the city just as much and got the heady thrill he needed from the bright lights and night-long parties that his new job in advertising allowed him. Still, Dominic saw the look of pure contentment on his brother’s face whenever he returned home to sink into the sofa and be waited on hand and foot by their mum.

And Billy? At twenty-four, Billy was only three years Dominic’s senior, but he seemed to have lived a lifetime in that age gap and had a worldly wise look about him that made him seem much older than he was. He’d been working in London as a pilot, but he was spending more time in the Norfolk countryside and Dominic had a suspicion that he might be thinking about moving out of the city. Still, Billy played his cards pretty close to his chest and usually stayed with friends in the next village when he came back to Norfolk because he liked being able to come and go without the well-intentioned interference of their mother, so they never really got to the bottom of things with him.

At least, Dominic thought, he was here and he had no plans on packing up and leaving. The furthest he ever got was the North Norfolk coast or the great stretches of water in the Broads. There, he would stand away from the crowds, his paintbrush in his hand as he silently surveyed the scene around him.

He smiled. It was an artist’s lot to live on the outskirts of society, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The bus dropped Nina off at the end of the lane. She’d nearly missed her stop, not quite recognising the bend in the road and the avenue of trees after so many years. She breathed in the warm June air and rolled the arms of her jumper up above her elbows as she began walking down the potholed lane that would take her to The Old Mill House.

It was beautiful. A perfect little corner of Norfolk, tucked away from prying eyes. Everything was so still and quiet, too, after the noise of the city, and Nina listened to the hum of insects as she walked, each footfall audible as she crossed the road.

White campion was growing on the verges, their flowers luminous amongst the deep green of the grass and, as she walked by a little cottage to her left, she noticed the great towers of hollyhocks shooting skywards, their blooms yet to open.

Nina took her time, looking about her as she walked and humming lightly. This is what summers were about, she thought. Not sweating it out in some paperwork prison with a boss that didn’t appreciate you.

For a moment, she flung her arms out wide as if she were about to fly, but thought better of it when she heard a tractor in the field on the other side of the hedge, and continued walking.

In all her years of babysitting, she hadn’t realised that the house was set so far back from the road because she’d always been chauffeured there and back by Mr Milton, and her first glimpse of it made her gasp. The first thing to catch her eye was the driveway packed with cars. It looked like the parking lot of a sales garage. Perhaps the Miltons had visitors, she thought, or perhaps they were the boys’ cars. She looked at each one in turn, half-recognising the white Volkswagen from the incident at the traffic lights. At least that meant someone was at home.

She turned her attention to the house, its splendid Georgian facade gleaming white in the summer morning. Eight windows, spanning three storeys, winked invitingly in the sunlight, and an enormous climbing rose shot up over the door, its deep red blooms swaying seductively in the light breeze, scenting the air with its perfume and lending the house a softness which winter didn’t know.

It was all just as beautiful as she remembered it – its understated elegance as timeless as a pearl. And it all looked so familiar: the same curtains at the windows, billowing and blowing; the old rocking horse in the living room, dappled and damaged. It had always been a house full of laughter, and Nina remembered that the very walls seemed to shake at times, its seams almost splitting with the mirth they contained. It was so close to the road and the city, and yet so close to Nina’s idea of rural heaven; seeing it again felt as if she was coming home.

She listened as her feet crunched up the driveway, the roar of water reminding her of the closeness of the river. Would Olivia be there to welcome her or would she have forgotten she’d even invited her? She walked up to the pale blue door. Just as it had always been, there was no bell and you needed reinforced knuckles in order to be heard.

Nina knocked as loudly as she could and waited, taking a step backwards to see if anyone was at the windows, but she couldn’t see anyone. Strange then, that she felt as if somebody was watching her.

Dominic had just emerged from the walled garden where he’d done a quick sketch, when he had a vision. He stopped and, for a moment, thought he’d been out in the sunshine too long and was hallucinating. My God, it was Nina. What was she doing here? How had she got here?

He watched in amazement as she knocked at the front door. She was visiting, but why? She hadn’t been in touch for years and then, in the space of a few days, he’d almost run her over and now she was visiting his family’s home. Perhaps she’d recognised him at the traffic lights and was about to sue him for negligent driving and leaving the scene of an accident.

Dominic panicked. She’d tracked him down and, more importantly, she’d see him with mud on his trousers, paint in his hair and stubble on his chin. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t how he’d imagined it at all. Not exactly the scene he’d pictured, with Nina sitting in the living room, sipping tea with his mother and then him striding confidently into the room.

‘Ah – Nina,’ his mother would say, ‘you remember Dominic, don’t you?’

Nina would look up from her china cup and their eyes would meet, as surely as their hearts would.

He shook his head in exasperation. He was such a fool. That wasn’t going to happen at all, was it?

Chapter Five (#uac9d0cfa-760d-5a39-9186-6cbeb26b1806)

Nina knocked on the door again and waited. Three cars in the driveway and nobody at home? It didn’t seem very likely. She looked up again at the windows, half-expecting to see a curtain twitch, but there was no sign of life other than a faint barking coming from somewhere deep inside the house.

A sudden turning of the latch brought a smile to her face but, when the front door opened, she was greeted not by Olivia but by a little boy with a drink carton in his hand and a straw stuck in his mouth.

‘Hello!’ Nina smiled. ‘Is Mrs Milton at home?’

The boy merely looked at her by way of response.

‘Can I come in?’ Nina tried, bending down to his height so as not to appear quite so grown-up.

The little boy opened the door wider, took the straw out of his mouth and burped. Nina blinked in amusement and watched as he turned around and ran down the passage into one of the rooms, leaving her standing alone in the hall with the sound of barking louder than ever.

It was funny but, being in the hall again, even after so many years, Nina half-expected to see her two dear young boys come running towards her to grab her hands and drag her into the playroom, and was quite disappointed when they didn’t. Instead she’d been faced with one little boy running away from her. Nina wondered whom he belonged to and, looking around, imagined that somebody would be along at any moment. Nobody would have left such a young boy at home on his own with just a mad dog somewhere in the house for company. Perhaps he was Billy’s little boy, or Alex’s? Or maybe even Dominic’s? Who was to say that the Milton boys weren’t all married now with families of their own? Just because her own love life was a disaster, it didn’t mean that the Milton boys weren’t all happily settled. She’d not seen them all for years. Anything could have happened in that time.

Her eyes scanned the walls absently until they caught sight of something quite extraordinary; a huge painting of a white mansion standing by the most incredible waterfall. It took a few seconds for Nina to register that it was actually The Old Mill House. It was the most amazing painting she’d ever seen. She could feel the energy in the bold brushwork and taste the spray from the wild rush of water.

‘Hello?’ A woman’s voice floated down the hall from one of the rooms, breaking Nina’s concentration.

‘Hello?’ Nina echoed.

‘Hello?’ the woman’s voice came again, before the owner of it actually appeared. ‘Oh! Nina! How wonderful to see you!’ Olivia said, talking in her familiar italics as she walked forward and gave her a hug. Nina was instantly enveloped in a waft of rosy perfume and time seemed to spiral out of all recognition as if a portal to her past had just opened up to her.

‘It’s so kind of you to invite me,’ Nina said with a smile as Olivia finally released her.

‘Not at all! I was just telling Benji all about you.’

Nina looked down and saw the burping boy half-hidden by Olivia’s skirt.

‘Hello, Benji,’ Nina said, bending down to his level again, but her movement only encouraged him to hide further in the paisley pleats.

‘He’s the cleaner’s boy,’ Olivia explained. ‘She’s upstairs tackling a mountain of ironing. She’s much more efficient than I am. I always end up with more creases than when I started when I attempt the ironing, and I once managed to burn an entire cuff off one of Dudley’s Thomas Pink shirts.’ She laughed, and Nina couldn’t help smiling at the confession.

‘Come on through and sit down.’ Olivia said, leading the way to the living room at the front of the house, a bright airy room with walls the colour of a summer sky and honey-coloured floorboards. ‘Now, I’ll just release poor Ziggy before he bursts a blood vessel in excitement.’ Olivia took a deep breath. ‘I should warn you, he’s a bit lively and he’ll probably jump up, but he’s very friendly.’

Before Nina could protest or even ask what exactly Ziggy was, Olivia had left the room and a dreadful scraping and whining could be heard from further along the hallway.

‘No – you’ll be nice and calm now, won’t you? Ziggy? Ziggy! Nina – he’s on his waaaay!’ Olivia called. Benji got up from where he’d flopped down on the rug in front of the fireplace and dived behind a chair in the corner of the room as an enormous hairy dog came hurtling in and launched itself at Nina.

‘Oh!’ she cried, as the apricot-coloured face pushed itself towards her in instant adoration. ‘Oh!’

‘Nina! Are you all right in there?’ Olivia’s voice came from the hallway.

‘He’s a bit—’ Nina couldn’t speak because her mouth was full of fur.

‘Ziggy – down! DOWN! Oh, why doesn’t he do what I say? I’m having such problems with him.’

‘I’ve never seen a dog quite like him,’ Nina said. ‘What is he?’