The Summer We Loved

Closing the back gate, she made her way along the alley and out into the sun. Houses passed by as she headed off along her well-trodden route. She picked up the pace, winding through the streets, until she found herself out in the countryside, quiet and alone.

Jenny sucked in deep breaths, filling her lungs with the fragrant air of the soft summer breeze as she let her mind wander. Her feet beat a rhythm on the ground and she wondered about a holiday. She had thought about going on a writers’ retreat in her time off at the end of the summer. It was something she had wanted to try for a long time, but had never quite found the courage to take the next step. Maybe one day, she thought. Probably just a pipe dream, anyway. Perhaps she’d just have a couple of weeks in the sun.

The daydream called out its want for a partner and Jenny remembered the look in Pete’s eyes the first time he had said hello and spoken to her on the wards, almost six years before. She had thought he liked her back then, maybe he had, but ever since that day at Adam and Kate’s wedding, things had changed. She should think herself lucky that he’d avoided her, having seen how little others got from him. But deep down she wanted to believe there was more to him, and to be honest, her vanity was smarting.

Her fondness for Pete had begun at the start. But in the early days Flis had been so besotted with him that she hadn’t felt able to try. With the disaster at the wedding, everything changed. Pete would check on her often, but his eyes never looked at her the same after that. At home, with Flis now feeling bitter, they had barely been allowed to mention his name, and then he had gone, off to other hospitals to gain experience in his job. And Jenny had thought that was that. Men had come and gone, but nothing remained.

But with Pete’s return had come a rekindling of an old ember and a yearning to be loved… by him. Sadly, the words ‘loved’ and ‘Pete’ seemed such a laughable contradiction that she was resigned to the fact that it was a lost cause and she would just have to wait it out until he was gone once more, which, if rumour was true, would only be a matter of months now.

As field merged with hedgerow, fence post with stream, she drifted into a world of fantasy, allowing herself to imagine scenarios still unexplored. A first date, a first kiss, an evening spent hand in hand, arm in arm, touching, holding, feeling… She tripped and stumbled on a root sticking out of the ground and looked up. Where was she? Realising she must have lost her way, Jenny headed back the way she had come and rectified her route, finally continuing on her trail, relieved to have been alone and unobserved.

With her new resolution echoing in her mind, she decided to clarify her plan with the hope of easing her pain. “He. Doesn’t. Want. Me. He. Doesn’t. Want. Me,” her thoughts sang back as her feet fell hard on the ground. And when the reality of that had finally hit home, she changed tack with a new voice. “I. Don’t. Need. Him. I. Don’t. Need. Him.” It was something she had to learn, however hard the bite, for it was in her power to determine the rest of her life and she was not willing to be a doormat for anyone.

Staggering back home from a pace a bit more ambitious than usual, Jenny hit the shower and got ready for work. It was a double-edged sword, working on a surgical ward and being smitten with an emotionally stunted anaesthetist. The upside was that she got to see him far more than if she had worked on any other ward, but the downside was the same. Agony and ecstasy in equal measure.

Jenny stood at the nurses’ station, listening to handover. All around her, work carried on as usual: trollies wheeled about, rattling cups and saucers, instruments and trays, and patients pressed their buzzers. Incessant demand. And then Dr Peter Florin breezed past and the world about her stopped. Jenny’s heart trembled and she forced herself to focus back on the job in hand, but not before noticing the heaviness of his gaze and the thin set of his lips.

She had seen him like this before, years ago, when he first came to work at St Steven’s. She had forgotten how his moods could flip like a light switch. Five long years he had been out of her life. But not any more. And now she had become one of those sad women who look at a man and think they can change him. Like she was so special that he would do anything just to be with her! She rolled her eyes at her own folly. Why was she always so weak when it came to him? Her heartbeat surged faster every time he was near. She had learned to be strong before, hadn’t she? But strength hadn’t brought her happiness. Could it eventually set her free?

The shift rolled by, mundane, nothing special, but that night Jenny felt uneasy. The fact that she was noticing little changes, subtle details about him, made it clear to her that her heart was still in peril. So to protect herself she made a solemn promise. Not until she was convinced he wanted her, really wanted her, not just her body, but all of her. Would she let him in? And she was determined to stick by this. She wobbled at the thought of a single night of unbridled passion with Pete, something so many others had known. No, she couldn’t. She had learned the consequences of that one a long time ago. For her it had to be different. She had to be sure… should ever the occasion arise.

He was looking as though that cloud was back over his head again today, she wrote in her diary that night. How I wish I could brush away those cobwebs. Take him in my arms and feel his weight against me.

Turmoil raged within her. Her romantic heart beating wildly against her mind. Be strong, Jen, she thought. You mustn’t forget. As Flis had found out, loss of hope would be far worse than this.

The next morning she was on an early and the ward was bedlam. The anaesthetist for Mr Hammond’s list had failed to turn up for work and so everyone had been delayed while the doctors shifted around to cover them. Jenny checked the chart. Friday – am - Dr Florin. Pete was meant to be gassing that morning; it was Pete who hadn’t turned up for work. Probably woken up in the wrong bed, she thought.

Jenny had hoped he’d have grown out of this behaviour by now, but it seemed not. She remembered he’d got into trouble more than once for having too many days ‘sick’ last time he was around. She wanted to be angry at him, shirking his responsibilities. It went against every principle she held to, but she couldn’t. She would get Kate to have a word with him again when she got back from her holiday. The two of them seemed to get on well together. Maybe she could do something to sort him out.

That evening a group of nurses were planning to meet up in town and then head over to Helix for Maisie’s hen night. Sadly, Jenny was starting to feel a little old to show her face in a nightclub, especially on a Friday night. She probably had ten years on the majority of those there, but she was happy enough to go for a drink beforehand.

Heather and Chloe, her two other housemates, knocked on her bedroom door. “Come on, Jen. We don’t want to be late. Flis’ll want to hear all the juicy gossip when she gets off work later. Hurry up,” they called.

Jenny opened her door and beamed. She scrubbed up pretty well, even if she did say so herself.

“Wow, you look great,” Heather said, just as a horn blared outside. The two young nurses squealed. “The taxi!” and they hurried out to get started on their evening.

Jenny stood in the doorway of the Swan Inn and looked around. She was wearing a short brown leather jacket, skinny blue jeans, heels and her diamond stud earring in the top of her ear. She spotted the group of nurses out celebrating the impending wedding and a cheer went up as the three of them joined in.

Jenny was enjoying the evening, having a laugh and a drink with the girls, and on the way to the toilets, she spotted a face she knew. It was Pete, but not the Pete she was used to. He was sitting in a dark corner, his eyes empty, lost somewhere in a world of his own. Gone were the smiles and charm of the daytime. His expression was dulled and his shoulders hunched. What could have happened? She had just decided to go over and talk to him when he looked up and spotted her. A look of defiance lifted his chin and he grabbed the woman clearing the table, hauling her onto his lap, and in the blink of an eye there he was again: the charmer, springing back into action. Jenny walked on. Of course, she thought. As if he would ever be lonely!

Later that evening, as the others made their way on to the nightclub, Jenny walked outside to catch a cab home, and standing on the pavement waiting for her ride, she looked back through the window and noticed Pete, still in the same place he’d been sitting all evening, his head, once again, hung over his pint.

It was a more sombre note she wrote in her diary that night.

Today his eyes were downcast and his features drawn, and yet still he had the power to turn my bones to jelly. I wonder what has happened. Why was he missing at work today and why was he all alone on such a lovely summer’s evening?

Maybe I’m just kidding myself, looking for a reason to feel sorry for him. He could easily have been meeting some beautiful woman a little later on, for a night of fabulous, raw, all-consuming passion. Passion… with Pete. I bet he’s good… He should be. He’s had enough practice!

But he didn’t look happy. Why wasn’t he happy? He’s gorgeous. He’s got a body to die for, beautiful eyes, handsome and clever. Everybody likes him. Why wasn’t he happy?

If only Kate was here, instead of halfway round the other side of the world, she could have spoken to her about it.

Jenny put the cap back on her pen, slumped against her pillow and stared at the ceiling. So many of her friends had been happily married off in the past few years. She’d lost track of the number of weddings she’d been to. Only a few of them remained single now - a dying breed. Even fickle old Flis had a steady boyfriend. She felt old.

The hospital was full of pretty young nurses now too. Of course they weren’t half so good at nursing, she thought, not like in her day. Training had been far better when she had come through, but they would learn.

Sharing a house with a couple of young nurses brought it home to her every day, the difference in mind-sets. If Pete was still single, if he was single, he was never going to look at her now. She thought back to all the stupid stunts she had pulled in her younger days, all in the pursuit of happiness. You couldn’t win love. She had learned that now. You just had to wait and hope that it was given.

Still, it was only a matter of time until he would be moving on again. Then maybe she could try and find love in other places, in men who didn’t make her stomach dance every time they walked in the room and who couldn’t make her fingers tremble at the sound of their voice.

Time. Time was a cruel thing. In the years since they had first met, Pete had only managed to look more and more attractive. But he was the complete opposite of what she needed. ‘Dependable’ and ‘committed’ were not words to be associated with the dashing Dr Florin. Caring of his patients, yes. Brilliant at his work, maybe. But not reliable. Not solid. But with all his faults, and she knew they were many, Jenny still longed to make him happy, to watch those eyes shining with delight, to see him smiling back at her like they had done once before, a long time ago, and to tell him how much his words had meant to her.

*

Pete walked in and looked over her shoulder. “Where have you got to?” he asked.

“Just about to start on you,” she said.

He winced. “Can I get you a cup of tea? I was just about to make one.”

Jenny turned around and looked at him. “Tea would be lovely, thank you,” she said. “Now push off. I can’t concentrate with you hovering around, looking over my shoulder.” She smiled.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he told her and winked before he closed the door, and then she was alone again.

*

Pete didn’t know what all the fuss was about. All he had done was offer to buy the girl a drink. There was no need to go all macho over it. Besides, she hadn’t exactly said no, had she? In fact, she seemed quite keen on the idea of the two of them getting it on, he’d thought. So she had a boyfriend, so what? It wasn’t like they were married, or anything.

Pete’s elbow slipped and his head fell forward onto the counter, knocking him in the eye. Maybe he had had enough. He rallied, only to find a complete bear of a guy standing before him. Pete hoisted himself up, his vision beginning to blur. “Come on, now. I don’ wanna figh’ you.” He attempted to pat the man on the shoulder, but his judgement was off and he only succeeded in shoving him in the chest, annoying him even further. The man stepped closer, snarling.

“I’n warnin yooou,” he slurred, swaying. “I know martial ahts an’ I’m a damn goo’ boxer too.” He reached over to take a swig of his drink, missed and managed to spill his pint along the bar, splashing the already angered man. The bear in front of him growled and from the beer-sodden haze, lights suddenly sparked all around him. Pain, like dynamite exploding in the side of his face, penetrated the cotton-wool cloak of his mind and he was wrapped in darkness.

Chapter 2

“Come on, Pete. Pete?”

A slap brought Pete round and he stirred, disorientated.

“Wake up, mate.”

Pete squinted into the light and colours tore into him. A dark shape formed in front of what looked like… a ceiling. He struggled to pull the shape into focus and then realised it was a face he knew well. He beamed. “Jimmeeee! What’re you doing here?”

James Florin picked up his brother and apologised to the staff and customers around him. He dropped a couple of notes on the bar and hoisted him up to standing. “Come on, mate. Let’s get you home.”

Outside the pub, James managed to persuade a taxi driver to accept them (for a premium) and wrestled his brother inside.

Pete’s home was in an old Georgian building on the edge of town. It had been converted into flats at some stage, badly, without style or grandeur; a basic set of rooms, where doctors on various rotations stayed for the duration of their job.

At the front door, he rifled through Pete’s pockets to find his door key.

“Ooh, cheeky,” Pete teased, wobbling precariously against one arm while James struggled to open the door with the other.

He lugged him across to his bedroom and dropped him down onto the bed. With a lot of encouragement, he managed to get a pint of water down Pete, and on him for that matter, and then he pulled off his shoes and covered him with his duvet. It was going to be a long night.

James picked out his phone and rang home. “Rach, it’s me.”

“Jamie, did you find him?”

“Yeah.”

“Same again?”

“I think so. He’s out for the count at the moment, but I’ll speak to him in the morning.”

“Don’t forget to put him into the recovery position and then you really must try and get some sleep, sweetheart.”

“I might nod a bit. But I think maybe I should stay awake,” he said.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone.

“It’s not his fault, Rach,” he told her.

“It’s not yours either.”

“I know, but I have to help him. I owe him that much, at least.”

“Still?” She let out a long breath. “It was all such a long time ago, Jamie. Haven’t you done enough?”

“I’ll ring you tomorrow,” he told her.

“I love you,” she said.

“Love you too. Give the kids a kiss from me.”

“Will do.”

James made sure Pete was safe to go to sleep and then settled himself in a chair beside him, ready to keep vigil for the night.

At five-thirty the next morning, Pete’s body stirred to the chirruping song of a bird sat on the ledge outside of his window. A groan released the breath from his lungs and he pulled his hands to his head. James awoke from the brief, drowsy haze that had overtaken him just before dawn. He looked across. “Morning,” he said, and waited for the light of comprehension to take form behind Pete’s eyes.

“What day is it?” Pete asked.

“Saturday.”

Pete lifted his head and peered at the light stretching in around the curtains. Apart from the relentless chatter of the birds outside, there was silence all around them. “What time?”

“Early.”

Pete sucked in a deep breath and winced. “My head.”

“Is as much as you deserve. In fact you’re bloody lucky I showed up when I did.”

Pete was confused. He was usually grateful for the blur that followed one of these binges, but this time there was nothing.

“It seems you decided to hit on some poor young woman waiting for her boyfriend at the bar.”

Pete cringed and let out a sigh.

“Where are your pain-killers?” James asked him.

Pete pointed to his bedside drawer and James reached in, popped a couple out and handed them to his brother. He fetched some fresh water and then sat down again while Pete knocked back the tablets with practiced ease. There was a moment of silence between them.

“How long this time?” James asked him.

Pete looked up. His head sank back down again and he rested back. “Thursday night…”

James shook his head. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself, Pete?”

“I-”

“Had the dream?”

Pete opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again. “Something like that.”

James looked at him, his head shaking slowly. “Why can’t you just let it go, mate? It’s been years. Even Adam’s managed to move on since then.”

“Adam didn’t kill anyone, though, did he?” Pete said, his tone flat.

James pierced his brother with a solemn look. “Neither did you.”

Pete shrugged. “Semantics.”

James rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “The courts exonerated you of all responsibility, Pete. You weren’t the one to blame.”

“Wasn’t I?”

“It was an accident. Shit happens. You can’t carry on beating yourself up over this for the rest of your life. You’re just throwing it away. It wasn’t you killed in that car that night, you know?”

“Maybe it should have been.” Pete closed his eyes and the dream replayed inside his head. Desolation swept across his face as the turmoil of the memory evolved once again. He couldn’t get past it, try as he might. Sometimes he thought he had cracked it, but the dream just kept recurring, bringing it all back and refreshing the agony again.

His voice calmed, aware he had snapped at his brother and he shouldn’t have. If it wasn’t for Jimmy he would have nobody. “I’m not sure I can,” he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m not even convinced I want to.”

“You need to get some counselling,” James told him. “I can’t keep driving around bailing you out all the time. You need to get yourself some proper help.”

Pete let out a puff of derision. “Nobody asked you to keep coming here.” He winced and held onto his head. “How did you know?”

“It was Shane’s stag night last night.”

“Shit! I’m sorry. I’ll call him. Tell him I was ill or something.”

“I’ve already told him. But you can ring and apologise. When you didn’t answer your mobile or your door, I started making my way around the pubs again. I got lucky. Third one this time. You’re getting more predictable, Bro.”

Pete let out a choke of unhappy laughter.

“Look, I don’t mind for me,” James told him. “But I think Rach would be happier if you stopped trying to drink yourself into oblivion.”

Pete smiled and shook his head. “Tell her I’m sorry, won’t you. And I am grateful. Really.”

“It’s your future I worry about,” James told him, after the moment had settled again. “You’ve got some big exams coming up soon and you seem determined to mess it all up again. All that work you’ve put in. Don’t throw it away like this.”

“I know, I know.”

“So you’ll get some help?”

Pete took the path of least resistance. Not in a million years was he planning on sitting down with some poxy counsellor and spilling his guts to a random stranger, but his brother was looking at him, desperately concerned and with such grave fear in his eyes, so he nodded.

“Good. We’d better get some food into you before I get back home to my long-suffering wife and then you can start getting your act together and get things straightened out. You might want to give your liver a break while you’re at it. And the female population, for that matter. There can’t be many women you haven’t been through left around here now, are there?”

Pete gave him a withering look and thought of the face that had pierced him with enigmatic eyes the night before, or was it the one before that? One of the few supposed to be ‘off limits’ (if Kate had anything to do with it). Jenny Wren: stunningly beautiful, bold and disapproving, devastatingly sexy and tantalising as hell. But she had witnessed the rage inside him. Her turbulent nature and mysterious, all-seeing eyes were unsettling to him. It would be dangerous to get too close to her. From the confines of his mind, however, the delicious taste of fantasy was a spectacular thing. “One or two,” he said.

Monday morning Pete was back in work and, on the surface of it, happy as a pig in mud. His consultant gave him a dressing down for his no-show the Friday before, but he apologised and managed to talk his way out of it, claiming a brief stomach bug, and all was forgiven (on the understanding that his lack of communication never happened again).

New faces appeared on the wards as a couple of young nurses joined the team and Pete was revived for the moment. He flicked his predator switch to “on”, cranked up the charm and watched as fresh eyes turned dreamy; he was back on form.

Pete gassed and consulted with patients for different lists for the following day, and then he went home to his flat, where he had no need of bravado, except for himself.

For some reason he felt out of sorts that evening. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he was uneasy. He couldn’t settle and he needed to; he had exams coming up, even his brother had mentioned them. He looked at the great pile of books crouching ominously at the side of his desk and he had every intention of working. He had an ENT list in the morning, so it would have been an ideal time to recap on the problems particular to that and the different strategies for dealing with them. But instead, he shoved a shepherd’s pie in the microwave and flicked on the TV. Tomorrow night, he thought, when he was feeling better. It wasn’t worth trying to study when you weren’t on top form.

The following afternoon, Jenny was on a late, and the feeling on the ward, as she walked on, was seriously off. Red-rimmed eyes and softly spoken whispers crowded in on her on all sides. The new shift was quickly rounded up and taken into an empty room.

“I have some incredibly sad news to tell you all,” Debbie, the nurse in charge, said. “This morning, we were informed that two days ago, whilst on holiday in the Caribbean, Mr and Mrs Elliott, together with their daughter, were lost at sea when the yacht they were sailing capsized in a freak storm. Their bodies have been recovered and there will be a funeral when they’ve been returned home. I’m sure we’ll hear more nearer the time, but for now, that’s all we’ve got. I’m very sorry.”

Whatever was said after that, Jenny never heard it. What a way to hear about your friend’s death. Debbie wasn’t to know they’d been close, but… Kate was dead? No. Kate; her oldest friend and partner-in-crime. And Adam. Poor Adam, who had turned out to be such a lovely guy, surprising them all. And even little Selena… all gone. Maisie passed across a tissue. Jenny hadn’t even noticed the tears flowing down her face until then. She took the tissue and dabbed at her eyes numbly. She couldn’t process it, so she did all she could do; she worked.