Our Last Summer by Jennifer Joyce

Chapter 29

I watch Ronnie and the little girl climb into a yellow mini parked across the road. I never did know the child’s name as it all happened in a blur, and I’m not entirely sure formal introductions were made during the chaotic screaming and shouting. I take in a deep breath, as much as I can until it feels like I might pop, letting it out slowly as the car pulls away and disappears from view. Disaster averted.

I’m turning to head back into the pub when something catches my eye across the road. The salon. Or rather, the signage. It’s no longer the monochrome ‘Lady Dye’ but neither is it the navy lettering of ‘Little Hairton’ on an aqua background that came with the latest owner’s refurb. This is a sign I’ve never seen before, ever, and not just on these wild time-hops. The sign is now charcoal with 3D silver lettering. ‘Berkely’s Hair & Beauty’. The exterior has been updated to match the sign, with charcoal woodwork and silver fixtures on the door. It looks classy and modern and the kind of place Yvonne has dreamed about working in. The kind of place that serves more than the local pensioners for their once-a-week shampoo and set.

I cross the road so I can get a better look. It’s bustling inside. There are new stations added to the backwashes and swivel chairs, and I can see clients having their eyebrows threaded and their nails buffed as well as having their hair coloured and styled. There’s a reception desk and a chrome coffee machine and a seating area with tub chairs and fresh flowers. This is not the salon I remember. The salon I left behind when I flew off to California.

‘Elodie?’

I drag my eyes away from the salon. Heather’s on the opposite side of the road. She’s wearing the waitress uniform I’m used to seeing her wearing now during these summers but her hair is different. It’s been chopped into a shoulder-length bob and is straight and glossy. It looks grown up. Elegant. But I kind of miss the frizz.

‘Everything all right?’ She checks for traffic before she crosses the road. ‘With the funeral and everything?’ She places a hand on my arm as she reaches me, and I’m touched by the little act of care. It isn’t only her hair that’s become more grown up.

‘Yeah. I was just …’ I turn to look back at the salon. I was just what? Marvelling at the modernised salon I’ve never seen before? ‘Thinking about making an appointment.’ Mid-wake? That sounds sensible. But more rational than the truth, I guess. ‘To get my nails done.’ I splay out my fingers, releasing too late that they’re already immaculate, painted a pearly rose with white tips. ‘I want something a bit … less boring.’

Heather nods. She holds out her own hand, displaying fingernails painted in pastel shades of blue and purple, scattered with glinting silver specks. ‘Mona did mine yesterday. She’s amazing.’

‘Are you even allowed nails like that while waitressing at the hotel?’

Heather lifts one shoulder up into a shrug. ‘Who cares? I’ve only got twelve shifts until I’m finished there for good. If they sack me off, I’ll just spend the next few weeks enjoying the summer until my PGCE starts.’ She starts to move away from the salon, heading towards the hill. ‘Save me one of those Polish chocolate cakes if there are any left.’

I cross back to the pub, heading straight to the beer garden where I last saw Yvonne so I can talk to her about the salon. But Ed’s leaning against the bar as I pass, and he lifts his hand in greeting, a small smile pulling up the corners of his mouth, and I can’t not stop. Not when his imminent death has been avoided by Ronnie’s early arrival and her decision not to make a public scene. The chain of events that led to Ed getting on the bike has been disrupted and when I throw my arms around him and pull him in tight, a sob takes me by surprise as I remember earlier in the church, when I thought I was too late to save him.

‘Life’s too short, isn’t it?’ Ed strokes my back with slow, soft circles. ‘But she was loved.’ I nod, though I remain tucked into Ed’s chest. ‘He must be devastated.’

I move now, taking a juddering breath, and follow Ed’s gaze. Franciszek is sitting in the corner, his head down as he studies the newspaper in front of him. But he isn’t reading it. He isn’t catching up on the news. The paper is a year old, and on the front of it is a photo of his wife, eyes blazing. Full of life. Of passion and determination. Somebody stops by the table, stoops to chat to Franciszek, but they don’t stay long. He wants to be on his own for a while, with Irene and his memories.

‘I want that.’ Ed nods towards Franciszek. ‘Not the sorrow, obviously. But the love. I want to be with my soulmate until the end.’

‘Yeah, me too.’

Ed nudges me with his elbow. ‘You’ve got Tomasz. You two are perfect for each other. Anybody can see it. You’ll be together forever.’

‘I hope so.’ My gaze moves towards him. He’s still sitting with his mum, his arm around her shoulders, and my chest feels full with love, and pride, and the ache of regret of the years I spent without him.

‘You will. I know it.’ Ed catches the attention of the bar staff and orders drinks for us both. We carry them to an empty table, one where I can still see Tomasz. His head is bent, his hair flopping into his eyes, and I want to go over there, to tuck the hair back, to hold him and take away the pain he’s feeling.

‘Dominic’s coming to stay in a few days.’

I tear my gaze from Tomasz and tune fully in to what Ed’s saying.

‘Yeah, I know. Mrs Gacey said earlier.’ I take a sip of my wine, my gaze slipping back towards Tomasz and his mum. He’s putting something in the inside pocket of his jacket.

‘He isn’t staying with his grandparents this time.’

Tomasz leans in towards his mum, lifting his cheek to meet her lips.

‘He’s staying with me. And Yvonne. At the flat.’

‘Oh?’ Micha pats her son on the back, but then my eyes snap back to Ed as his words register. ‘Oh.’

‘What do you mean, oh? And why are your eyes all wide like that?’

I blink, trying to make my eyes normal-sized again. ‘Nothing. I just meant oh. It’s a word. A normal word with no really significant meaning. Like, if someone said it’s raining, and you’re like, oh, is it?’

Ed shakes his head. ‘It isn’t like that at all. It was an oh. A significant oh. And now you’re babbling.’ Ed’s eyes narrow. ‘Has Yvonne said anything to you?’

My jaw drops. In shock. In outrage. ‘Yvonne knows?’ Before me? His best friend? Now, I know Yvonne is his best friend too, but I knew him first, before we even started nursery, and that has to give me the edge, surely?

‘Yvonne knows what?’ Ed’s eyes are nothing but slits now and his mouth is all scrunched up tight.

‘Nothing. I don’t know what I’m talking about.’ I lift up my glass of wine. ‘I’m tipsy.’ I take a massive gulp, to drive the point home.

‘Oh my God.’ Ed’s chin drops to his chest. ‘You know.’

‘I don’t know anything. I’m clueless, about a lot of things. Most things.’

‘Elodie.’ Ed peeks up at me, and his eyes are full of trepidation. My stomach lurches. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m an idiot. A massive idiot with a big mouth. This is Ed’s moment. He gets to decide what to say and when, but the words tumbled out before I could stop them. It was the shock. Yvonne knew before me.

‘I didn’t tell Yvonne. But we live together. In a pretty small flat. You can’t really keep secrets.’

‘Ed, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything more.’ I place my hand on his and give it a squeeze. My way of letting him know that when he does say anything more, I will be there. Always.

‘But I want to.’ Ed grimaces. ‘I think.’ He picks up his pint. Takes a sip. Takes another. He lowers his hand to place the glass back down on the table but changes his mind and takes a huge gulp, swallowing hard. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks next. ‘I’m gay.’ He plonks the glass down on the table and looks me in the eye for the briefest of moments. I squeeze his hand, my chest filling up again, with pride and love. This is nicer than the last time I found out, when Reverend Carter spilled it out onto the street, roaring about sins and all sorts of disgusting things until Ed felt he had no choice but to get away, as fast as he could, even if it meant hitching a lift on the back of Sacha’s bike without a helmet.

‘But you already knew that.’ Ed meets my eye, only for a second. ‘How did you know?’

His grandfather told me. He told anyone in the village within earshot, violating his grandson’s trust and spearing him with vile accusations. And then Ed had confirmed it, pulling me aside as his grandfather’s charges continued to rain down.

I’m sorry if this changes anything, Elodie. But there was someone, in France. Nothing happened – I was too afraid – but I couldn’t help the way I felt about him. The way I still feel. I’ve tried to push it away, but it’s there. It’s always been there, deep down, and it always will be. It’s who I am and I’m sorry. Hey! Sacha!

And then he was gone, and I never saw him again.

I squeeze Ed’s hand now, tighter than I intend to but I can’t help the ferocity. ‘I’m your best friend. I know you. Every bit of you. And I love you and I think you’re amazing. Never ever forget how amazing, how loved you are, no matter what. Okay?’

Ed nods. His eyes are shining. Mine are streaming. I never got the chance to say any of that the last time around: Ed was eager to escape his grandfather and Sacha didn’t want to stick around to face the fallout of Ronnie’s appearance. But it’s different now. Ed is safe and I hope that when he tells his grandfather and the reverend says all those awful things, he’ll remember this conversation. Remember that he is loved and know there is nothing to run away from. I’m too late to save Yvonne a broken heart but I’ve managed to save Ed’s life. Life isn’t always perfect, but this is pretty good in my books.