Midsummer Magic

‘No, who?’ said Josie, laughing as her dad rolled his eyes.

‘Only Tatiana Okeby,’ said Nicola triumphantly.

She was met with a stunning silence and blank looks.

‘Er. Tatiana who?’ said Diana.

‘Tatiana Okeby. You must know her. Sail for the Sun?’

‘Nope, not ringing any bells,’ said Harry.

‘Sandy Kane, tart with a heart. Who went through abortion, rape, several husbands, and sailed off into the sunset, never to be seen again? How can you not remember Sail for the Sun?’

‘Might be a bit before our time, Mum,’ said Josie.

‘What, none of you ever saw Sail for the Sun?’ Nicola looked baffled. ‘I could have sworn we watched it together, Josie.’

‘Did we? I don’t remember. When?’

‘Let me see … It must have been around 1983, I suppose,’ said Nicola. ‘Tatiana Okeby was tipped to appear as Auberon Fanshawe’s assistant on Freddie Puck’s Illusions show, but she quit to play Cassandra instead. She and Auberon used to have a bit of a thing.’

‘Now, Illusions I do remember,’ said Harry. ‘It was awesome.’

‘Do you remember the trick they did with the lighted candle?’ said Ant. ‘You know the one where Auberon’s assistant lit the candle and he made it disappear. I still can’t work out how they did that.’

‘Oh, I remember that! It was brilliant!’ Di burst in, then reddened when she realised she’d agreed with something Ant had said.

‘Well, that aside,’ said Nicola, ‘I’m very excited. Tatiana Okeby’s staying in that new place with the yurts near the open-air theatre, and the rumour is she’s going to be playing Titania in this summer’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I was telling Josie earlier, the theatre has been a bit down in the doldrums in the last few years, and they’re thinking of hiring it out for weddings.’

‘What, you two getting married in a theatre?’ said Diana, ‘what about a church wedding?’

‘That’s so passé,’ said Josie, nonchalantly. ‘I want our wedding to be different. To be the one everyone will be talking about for years to come. I think the theatre’s the perfect venue. And in the evening it will be brilliant for entertainment: jugglers, acrobats, magicians, that kind of thing. Won’t it, Harry?’

Harry didn’t appear to be paying any attention, and she had to kick him under the table before he mumbled, ‘Oh, yes, great,’ rather unconvincingly.

‘Wow,’ Diana seemed slightly stunned. ‘Sounds amazing.’

Josie checked to make sure Di wasn’t being sarcastic, but she seemed genuine.

‘Anyway,’ Nicola continued, ‘if we could get someone of Tatiana Okeby’s calibre playing at the theatre, it could help put us back on the map.’

‘Now, that I would like to see,’ said Josie. ‘The open-air theatre is so special. Isn’t it, Harry?’

‘Oh, er, yes,’ said Harry, looking a little guilty. He’d been deep in conversation with Ant about the many and varied delights of Illusions, and Josie wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard her. She wondered whether it had been a good idea to bring Ant along this weekend. Especially as there was clearly something weird going on with him and Di. She’d been dying to find out what was going on there, but hadn’t had a moment alone with Diana since they’d arrived. She hoped whatever it was wouldn’t spoil the atmosphere of the weekend, especially as she didn’t trust Ant not to make trouble. He’d never been a good influence on Harry in her eyes, and so far this weekend seemed intent on dragging him away from anything to do with the wedding. She’d already caught them muttering about going for a pint. The only reason she’d let Harry bring him along was because he’d been so worried about spending the weekend with her parents, and she’d wanted Harry to have some moral support. There was a point to Di coming. They were going searching for hers and Di’s dresses tomorrow, and although the boys were getting fitted for their suits, Ant didn’t really need to be here. She hoped he wasn’t going to ruin everything …

‘Does anyone fancy a walk?’ Diana said after lunch. She was getting fed up with Ant, who kept sending her significant looks across the table. The last thing she wanted to do was to have deep meaningful chats with him. What was done was done. She’d long ago consigned him to her past, and wasn’t at all interested in having him in her future. She was hoping that he’d be more interested in going to the pub, then she and Josie could at least have a girlie chat. It felt like ages since they’d had any time on their own together, and Diana missed her friend more than she’d thought she would.

‘I’d rather have a pint,’ said Ant. Good. True to form.

‘A walk would be great,’ said Josie. ‘We can get up to the Faerie Ring from the footpath at the end of the lane, walk along the cliff edge and then make our way down to the village, and have a pint in the Lover’s Rest. It’ll only take us an hour or so. And it’s a glorious day.’

Diana frantically tried to signal to Josie that this wasn’t her intention, but Josie was looking fixedly at Harry, as if to say, Don’t you dare think about going straight to the pub. Harry clearly understood the look, because he responded with, ‘A walk sounds like a brilliant idea.’

Great. Now Ant would feel obliged to come.

‘I suppose we could stretch our legs,’ said Ant. ‘So what’s this Faerie Ring place then?’

‘They’re a bunch of Standing Stones on the cliff,’ explained Josie. ‘Local legend says magic happens there on Midsummer’s Eve.’

‘Don’t tell me, young lovers plight their troth while fairies dance around them,’ snorted Ant.

‘Something like that,’ admitted Josie. ‘All nonsense of course.’

‘How about it, Di,’ Ant said slyly. ‘Fancy finding yourself a red-hot lover on the cliffs at midnight?’

‘I think the key word that is wrong in that sentence is lover,’ said Diana sarcastically. ‘And until you can find me a red-hot lover worthy of me, I can safely say the answer is no.’

‘As if I’d be interested in you,’ said Ant. ‘You clearly still have no sense of humour.’

‘Not for puerile infants, no,’ said Diana. She was furious. A couple of hours in Ant’s company was all it had taken her to remind him what a prick he was.

‘Woah! Children!’ said Josie. ‘What is it with you two?’

‘Nothing!’ said Diana and Ant, simultaneously glaring at one another.

‘Okay point taken,’ said Josie throwing her hands up, and tactfully changing the subject, to Diana’s relief. She sighed deeply. She couldn’t wait for the weekend to be over.

But, as they set off down the lane that led past Josie’s house to the footpath that took them up to the cliffs, Diana felt a bit better. The hedgerows were alive with birdsong, and the air heavy with scent from the riot of wildflowers that lined the path: the pinks and whites of scarlet pimpernels and red campions jostled with blue mallow and purple speedwell and other flowers Di couldn’t identify. There was barely a cloud in the azure sky, and the sun was so warm, they soon discarded cardigans and jumpers. She breathed a deep sigh of contentment. It was great to be away from London for once and the tension that she’d left behind at work.

‘This way,’ said Josie, confidently leading them over a stile which led onto a sandy cliff path, where the foliage gave way to yellow gorse, green bracken and pink heathers, and tall cow parsley bowed down in the breeze. It was a steepish climb, but with the wind on her face and the sun on her skin, Diana was beginning to enjoy herself – until she caught sight of Ant whispering to Harry, and glancing in her direction. She felt sure it was about her, and her stomach plummeted. How utterly miserable. To think she not only had to spend a whole weekend with him but also a whole wedding, when she’d be forced to be nice to him. Diana couldn’t think of anything worse.

‘So what’s the deal with you and Di, then?’ Harry said as he and Ant forged their way up the cliff path. After the little display of histrionics between them, he and Josie had decided it would be better for now if they kept their warring friends apart.

‘Dynamite Di?’ said Ant, looking back down the path at her, affecting nonchalance. ‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Didn’t look like nothing to me,’ said Harry. ‘You reacted like a scalded cat when you saw her.’

Ant stopped to take a breather and stared back at the lane, Josie’s house reflecting the sunshine in the distance.

‘We knew each other a long time ago. Had a bit of a thing. Didn’t work out.’

‘Which is why you’re so down on her,’ snorted Harry, not believing a word of it, and feeling more convinced than ever, she was the one. He paused too and took a sip of the water he had thought to bring in his small backpack. It was hot work climbing the path. Last time he’d done this walk it had been in the winter and much easier.

‘I’m not down on her,’ protested Ant. ‘You’ve seen the way she is with me. She’s a cow of the highest order. Can’t think why someone as nice as Josie could be mates with someone as chippy as Di.’

‘Oh, Di’s okay,’ said Harry, ‘and she’s been a good friend to Josie; really helped her through some tough times. So do me a favour, mate, and be nice to her. Just for the weekend. If not for me, do it for Josie.’

‘All right,’ said Ant. ‘Anything you say.’

The sun was out and the walk was invigorating. Soon they’d reached the top of the cliffs, and could look out to sea. To their left, the green of the cliffs fell away to the sea, and the path led down towards the dip where the Standing Stones stood, hidden from sight from this angle. To their right, a path led to down to a little cove in the distance. Boats on their way back to Tresgothen bobbed on the turquoise-green sea below, and seagulls keened in the sea breeze. The sparkling blue-green waves, dancing in the sunshine, looked really inviting. Harry had the mad impulse to throw himself off the edge. Here, out in the fresh air on such a glorious sunny day, Harry had a sudden urge to get away from everything, to be free. He’d had the feeling for a while now: that life was becoming more constricted, constrained, even. Particularly since Ant had been back, and Harry had listened to his travelling tales with increasing envy. The lure of going abroad was rearing its head again. And today, the thought of diving out, getting away, suddenly seemed irresistible. Particularly when they reached the famed Faerie Ring, which stood in a dip, a slight way from the cliff.

Approaching them, Harry, who wasn’t often given to fanciful notions, felt a shiver go down his spine. The stones were so old, and weathered; had stood here for generations, through wind and shine. It wasn’t hard to think somehow there was something deeply magical here.

‘Well, go on then,’ said Di, pushing Josie at Harry. ‘Time to plight your troth. It will bring you luck at your wedding.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ said Josie, ‘it’s only a silly superstition. And you have to do it at midnight on Midsummer’s Eve. Plus, you need love-in-idleness.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Ant.

‘A flower; a sort of wild pansy,’ said Josie. ‘The legend goes that if your true love picks love-in-idleness at midsummer, your love will be eternal.’

‘Oh, that is so romantic,’ Di clapped her hands together with glee. ‘I do love all these old tales.’

Harry could see they were both angling for him to say something, but he laughed it off and said, ‘I wouldn’t know a wild pansy from a geranium,’ till Di said lightly, ‘See, there are some growing here, by this stone.’

At that moment, he could have cheerfully strangled her. It had been the same, the day he’d proposed. That had been Di’s doing too. Would he even have thought about marriage without Di’s interference? Sometimes he wondered. To Josie’s evident dismay, he laughed it off, saying, ‘We’ve got two days to Midsummer’s Eve, I’d hate to get it wrong, and anyway, as Josie says, it’s all nonsense.’ He tried to ignore her hurt look as he strode through the Standing Stones and made his way to the path that led back to the town. It was just a silly local legend. She must see that. So why did he feel so guilty?

Ant’s bad mood had dissipated as the afternoon wore on. True, he still had to spend the weekend with Di, but despite moaning about it, he did enjoy a blow in the country, something he didn’t get to do very often now he was working back in the big smoke. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful summer’s day, and it was hard to stay cross for long. Besides, Peter had given him a great tip for an investment. He’d checked it out and it seemed sound. He was still reeling from the thrill of having had a chat with the Peter Hampton. It was the stuff that dreams were made of.

As they left the Standing Stones, Ant sidled up to Di. He was beginning to enjoy this weekend and he didn’t want her sour looks ruining things.

‘Look, Di, I know this isn’t ideal, us both being here –’

‘I should say so,’ snorted Di.

‘But let’s just get on with it, for Harry and Josie’s sake. We don’t want to ruin things for them, do we?’

‘No, that would be too dreadful,’ Diana sounded as sarcastic as ever. Ant felt doubtful his approach was working.

He tried again, ‘I know you think I’m a dick.’

‘Because you are,’ said Diana.

He’d said it partly in jest, and was surprised by the power she still had to hurt him. For a moment, he really wanted her not to think badly of him, wanted her to think of him the way she used to, but he tamped the thought down. No point going there; that door was long since bolted.

‘And I think you’re a cow,’ continued Ant, putting more venom into his words than he’d intended, wanting to hurt her the way she’d hurt him. She looked cross at that, but couldn’t really say anything, given that she’d just insulted him, ‘but we can at least be polite to one another, can’t we?’

‘I suppose,’ Diana said grudgingly. ‘But don’t think you’re going to use that famous charm to worm your way back into my affections. I never make the same mistake twice.’

‘Understood,’ said Ant, raising his hand. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He resisted the impulse to say you should be so lucky.

‘Good,’ said Di.

‘Good,’ agreed Ant, wondering if he could risk shaking on it, but decided it was best not to. There being very little else to say, they sped up to catch up with the other two, and Ant naturally fell back into conversation with Harry, while Diane and Josie resumed their chat about … whatever girls chat about. Even after all these years of bedding and chasing them, Ant wasn’t entirely sure what that was.

1983: Tatiana

Tatiana heard the phone go as she knelt on the floor, checking and rechecking the contents of her suitcase: passport, plane tickets, clothes, bikinis, sunglasses, suntan lotion – not that she’d get much time to sunbathe probably. By all accounts the workload on Sail for the Sun was phenomenal, but you never knew.

The phone was still ringing as she finally zipped up her suitcase, and placed her tickets and passport in her handbag, but she decided to ignore it. It would only be Bron, begging her to come back. God knows why he’d suddenly turned so needy after all these years. Who’d have thought?

Walking out on a five-year relationship hadn’t been quite as easy as she’d imagined. Bron had half his stuff at her flat for a start, and she wasn’t quite angry enough to dump it all out in the corridor for him to collect. So instead she’d endured several excruciating visits, when he’d begged her to change her mind.

‘I know the last few months haven’t been easy,’ he’d said.

‘Who for, you? Don’t make me laugh.’ Fear that she might crumble made her cruel. She knew he’d been hurting too, but she pushed the thought to one side. She needed this. She needed to get away, if she had any hope of surviving.

‘No, you,’ he mumbled, his face creased with guilt and pain. He stood underneath the hall light looking forlorn, a little boy lost – a familiar tug pulled at her heart but she ignored it. ‘Of course, for you, they’ve been tough. And I haven’t helped, I know.’

‘No, you haven’t,’ said Tati, then, briskly changing the subject, ‘We seem to have two copies of Rumours, do you want one?’

She went into overdrive, tidying, cleaning, sorting, organising. Anything to stop herself from actually talking to him. All those months, and all she’d wanted was for Bron to listen, to hold her, to share it with her. And now he was ready to, and it was too late. If she let him pull her back now, she’d be lost again, and this opportunity would be gone.

‘Can’t I at least hope?’ Bron had pleaded on his last visit, the one where she’d eventually banned him from seeing her again.

‘You can hope,’ she said, hardening her heart, ‘but it probably won’t do you any good.’

Hearing the catch in his voice as he left made her stronger once more, particularly when she could see tears in his eyes. It meant she was able to resist the heart-melting hug he gave her as he left. She’d cried a river over him, time for him to cry one over her.

Tatiana had spent so long in thrall to Bron it was quite satisfying to discover that while she could manage perfectly well without him (she ignored the painful little twist of her heart that still persisted whenever she thought of him), Bron was finding it difficult to do without her. Well, he’d have to manage, wouldn’t he? Her contract on Sail for the Sun was only three months, to be extended if her character proved popular. When she came back, Bron might be suitably sorry. Then she could think perhaps about having him back.

The beeping of a horn outside signalled the arrival of her taxi, while the beep from the answerphone told her that Bron had left his latest message. Well, he could wait. She’d wasted enough time on Bron. Time to seize her future. Time for Tatiana Okeby to have her day in the sun. Taking one last look at the small flat where she and Bron had shared so many happy times (she felt that familiar twist again, and reminded herself they’d had their fair share of bitter times too), she picked up her suitcase, strode through the door, and locked it for the last time. She was on her way. The future was bright and shining and golden.

As she got into the taxi and sped off, the phone in her flat rang again.

‘Tati – I know you’re there. Pick up, please. I’ve got some great news. Illusions is going to be on TV. And we can have equal shares this time. I promise. Tati? Are you there? Tati?’

Chapter Four

The pub was heaving, when they got to it. It was a lovely whitewashed old building with a thatched roof, wisteria growing up the sides, and hanging baskets tumbling down with bright red geraniums, blue and purple lobelia and yellow petunias. There was a pretty beer garden overlooking the harbour, and Diana was hugely relieved when the boys elbowed their way to the bar, and Josie suggested going outside. They managed to squeeze into a wobbly wooden table in the farthest corner of the beer garden, by a low granite wall, with a great view of the harbour. The sea was a turquoise green, and the sun was bright and warm. There was the constant humming of sails as the summer breeze danced its way through the myriad of boats bobbing in the harbour. On any other day it would have been perfect. But Ant’s presence had unsettled Diana more than she would have liked to admit. Dammit. How bloody typical of her pathetic little life, that Harry’s best mate should turn out to be Tony. The only man she’d ever let close enough to break her heart …

Christmas 2005 had found a twenty-two-year-old Diana working a season in the Alps as a chalet girl. She’d loved it. She was out of England, and therefore away from the ever-present sense of her father’s disappointment that she hadn’t made more of herself, and her mother’s rueful comments about ‘If only I’d had the opportunities you’ve had’; Diana’s decision to not go to uni and saddle herself with a load of debt having gone down badly with her parents.

But she was good at what she did. She enjoyed the challenge of organising skiing parties, plus she loved the outdoor life, and the partying hard aspect of the job. Life was for living, and the young Diana had wanted to seize it with both hands. She was earning good money, and unlike her peers, independent of her parents. She couldn’t see what their problem was.

She’d been having a ball, and then Anthony sodding Lambert had walked into her life and ruined it all. He’d knocked her sideways from the minute they met. For a while there, she – cynical, hard-bitten Di, who was never going to let a man near enough to break her heart – had even considered he might be the one person to make her change her mind about settling down. Which just goes to show how wrong you can be …

‘So go on then,’ Josie cut bluntly into Diana’s reverie. ‘What’s the story with you and Ant?’

‘There is no story with me and Ant,’ said Diana. ‘We worked together once. It was years ago.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Josie said. ‘Which is why you both looked as though you’d seen a ghost when you met.’

Diana had been dreading Josie’s interrogation since the morning. Josie had clearly given her some leeway about Ant, and not asked too many questions so far. Besides, she was happy to chat for England about what kind of flowers she was having, and Diana had kept her talking for as long as she was able. But it was clear Josie wasn’t prepared to be fobbed off anymore.

‘It was just a shock to see him,’ mumbled Diana. ‘It was years ago.’

‘Spill,’ said Josie, looking accusatory.

‘There is nothing to spill,’ protested Diana. ‘I worked with him one Christmas when I was doing the ski chalet thing. I barely know him. There is nothing to tell.’

‘Oh my God!’ Recognition suddenly dawned on Josie’s face. ‘Ant’s Teflon Tone, isn’t he?’

Diana felt the bottom fall out of her world. She really didn’t want to have this conversation.

‘No,’ she said unconvincingly.

‘You don’t fool me,’ continued Josie mercilessly. ‘Ant, Teflon Tone. No way.’

‘Yes, way,’ said Diana, realising there was no point denying it any longer. ‘Now can you see why I’m so freaked?’

‘He’s the one who —?’

‘Yes,’ said Diana. ‘That’s him. The bastard of all bastards.’

‘Oh bloody hell,’ said Josie. ‘If I’d had any idea, I’d have told Harry not to have him as best man, and I certainly wouldn’t have invited him for the weekend. God, Di, I’m so sorry. I’ll tell Harry he has to get another best man. It’s not as if Ant’s even that interested in the job.’

‘Not your fault. You weren’t to know,’ said Diana. ‘Just my godawful luck, as usual. Besides, whatever’s happened between Tony and me, it’s nothing to do with you two. Harry has to choose his own best man. I’ll cope.’

Josie sat looking thoughtful.

‘I still can’t get over Ant being Teflon Tone. What on earth possessed you? Or was he different when he was out there? At uni he always had a terrible reputation with women.’

‘Youth, stupidity, vodka?’ said Di. There’d been more to it than that of course. But she couldn’t bear to let her friend know quite how foolish she’d been. She’d heard Josie rant often enough about the idiocy of women who’d fallen for Ant’s charms and didn’t want to admit quite how easily she had done the same. It had all seemed so different back then …

‘Anyway, it was ages ago. All forgotten now.’ Diana looked round, desperate to change the subject; when talking to Josie about Tony in the past, she’d always played up the bad stuff, never mentioned any of the good, but there had been a reason why she was in love.‘Where are the boys with those drinks? The bar isn’t that packed.’

‘Oh,’ said Josie. ‘Look. Seems like we’ve got more than one local celebrity.’

Di looked to where Josie was pointing, to see Harry and Ant standing on the patio, deep in conversation with none other than Freddie Puck, the famous TV illusionist.

‘So go on,’ Ant was saying, clearly puppishly in awe of his childhood hero. ‘Spill the beans. How does the candle trick work? Is it sleight of hand, a false candle, what?’