The Summer Island Festival Read online

Skye had come into The Music Shop not long after Luc had left the previous day.

  ‘I haven’t got long,’ she’d said. ‘Saturday is my busiest day, but Luc says you’re going back to London next week and I wanted to catch up with you before you went.’

  Willow had nodded, ignoring that uncomfortable feeling that she got every time she thought about going back to work.

  ‘Well, can you come over for lunch tomorrow?’

  ‘I’ll have to check with Mum.’

  ‘Please, Willow.’ And Willow had felt as though she didn’t have a choice.

  *

  Skye had made soup, which she served with home-made bread and salad. She reminded Willow so much of Cherry, Skye’s mum, not just in the way she looked and the food she served, but her every gesture, the way she stood. Looking at Skye now made Willow feel nostalgic, as though she wanted to go to Bournemouth and find Cherry and hug her in exchange for all the hugs she had given her in the past.

  ‘Do you live here alone?’ she asked, pushing the memories away.

  ‘Mostly, although Bob visits when he can.’

  ‘Bob?’ Willow asked.

  Skye grinned the unmistakable grin of a woman in love. ‘He’s my boyfriend,’ she said. ‘He still works in London and lives in Southampton but we’re hoping he’ll be able to move here soon.’

  Willow nodded, not knowing what else to say to avoid the conversation she knew she had to have. Her mouth felt dry.

  ‘Skye, that last time I saw you,’ she began. ‘In the pub…’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Willow,’ Skye said waving her soup spoon in the air. ‘It was a long time ago.’

  ‘I need to apologise.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologise for what Charlie said,’ Skye replied. ‘It’s him who should be apologising, but I’m guessing I probably won’t see him again.’ She smiled and Willow knew that things were going to be all right.

  She had been so excited to see Skye that lunchtime. She’d only been in London a few months and she’d known that Skye was there, working as an apprentice in a tattoo studio in Camden. They had arranged to meet in a nearby pub.

  ‘We’ll eat sandwiches and drink cider,’ Skye had said. ‘If we try to imagine the sound of the sea it’ll be just like old times.’

  Willow had been disappointed when Charlie’s tennis match had been cancelled and he’d decided to join them for lunch.

  ‘It’ll be nice to meet one of your old friends,’ he’d said. By that time Charlie and Willow never went back to the Island. They’d stopped going when Charlie got stranded by the tide and had to be rescued.

  Lunch hadn’t gone as planned and all hopes of drinking cider and reminiscing about life on the Island had been scuppered by Charlie’s presence. Willow had been very aware of the two different parts of her life that were meeting around the pub table that afternoon and she’d been careful not to talk too much about Luc, or what had happened just before he left for America. It wasn’t hard not to talk about old times as Charlie kept up an almost constant monologue about his job, their flat, their life in London and how well Willow had done “considering her background”. Willow had wanted to kick him. Had he any idea how rude he was being?

  After an hour Skye had made her excuses and left.

  ‘Maybe we’ll do it again sometime, Willow,’ she’d said.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Charlie had replied. He’d been smiling when he said it and for a moment Willow had thought she’d misheard.

  ‘How could you be so rude?’ she’d said as Skye had walked away. Charlie had shrugged and Willow had chased after Skye, catching up with her in the street outside and almost begging her to try again sometime. But Skye had shaken her head, telling Willow that they’d both changed too much. As she walked towards the tube station she turned around.

  “It’s not you, Willow,” she’d said. “It’s the company you keep.”

  Charlie and Willow had argued about it when they’d got home – of course they had – but Willow knew that the life she had with Charlie was the life she had chosen, the life that she wanted too.

  ‘People change, sweetheart,’ Charlie had said. ‘And they move on. It’s not very nice but it is just part of life.’

  She’d gone to bed after that telling herself that Charlie was right. Skye wasn’t part of her life anymore.

  ‘I don’t need to apologise for Charlie,’ Willow said now. ‘But I do need to apologise for not standing up to him, for not telling him he was wrong.’

  Skye nodded. ‘I just figured that you’d changed, that you’d got off the Island and away from music like you wanted and found your people somewhere else. But I kept thinking about that afternoon over the years and…’ She trailed off.

  ‘And what?’ Willow asked, trying not to sound defensive.

  ‘What I said was pretty harsh too, and I’m sorry for that. But I’ve always wondered if that life really was what you wanted or if it was what Charlie had convinced you that you wanted.’

  Willow didn’t say anything for a moment, it was a question her mother had posed as well and honestly, she didn’t know the answer to it anymore.

  ‘Is that what you meant the other day when you said you never believed me about wanting that life in London?’ she asked eventually.

  ‘I guess,’ Skye replied thoughtfully. ‘There was just something about that afternoon that never rang true for me.’ She shrugged and tore off a piece of bread. ‘But I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry you didn’t marry him.’

  Willow laughed then, surprised at how easy this felt. She’d thought it was going to be hard; she’d built this apology in her head up into something it didn’t need to be. Was that what she was doing with Luc as well?

  ‘Charlie came along at the right time,’ she said. ‘I met him at the end of my first year at Cambridge. Most of that first year was awful. I lurched constantly between wanting to come home and never wanting to set foot on the Island again. I was so angry with my dad for leaving and with Krystal for taking him away and with Mum for not forcing him to stay. I didn’t know what was going on, but Charlie changed everything. Meeting him gave my life meaning again and I was able to start over.’

  ‘And yet you couldn’t marry him?’ There was no judgement in her question.

  ‘I never told Charlie about Luc,’ Willow said slowly. ‘I put Luc in a box in my head and I tried not to open it. But then he went and almost won American Stars and everyone I knew was talking about him. When they found out he was from the Isle of Wight I had to admit to vaguely knowing him.’

  ‘Vaguely?’ Skye repeated, raising her eyebrows.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Is this why you couldn’t go through with the wedding?’ Skye asked. ‘Because you’d lied to your fiancé? And because maybe seeing Luc all over the TV again made you remember him – sprung him out of the little box in your head?’

  ‘Maybe,’ she replied. ‘Although none of that was going through my head when I decided not to go through with it. It was a very instinctive decision. Although…’ She paused.

  ‘Although what?’

  ‘I feel as though I’m missing something.’

  ‘Something about you and Charlie?’

  Willow nodded, that uneasy feeling returning, making goose bumps appear on her arms. What was she missing? What was it about Charlie’s behaviour recently that had made her run away?

  ‘I never told you this,’ Willow said, changing the subject, ‘but Luc and I slept together the night before he left. He told me he loved me and…’ She paused. She couldn’t believe it still hurt after all these years.

  ‘And you never told Charlie about him?’ Skye asked, her eyebrows raised.

  ‘No,’ Willow admitted. ‘But that wasn’t what I was going to say.’

  ‘I kind of figured the two of you must have slept together at some point that summer,’ Skye said. ‘I spent half the time feeling like a spare part watching you make eyes at each other.’

  ‘Firstly,’ Willow said
. ‘We were not that bad! And secondly…’ She paused again.

  ‘Secondly what?’ Skye asked gently.

  ‘We were meant to meet up the next morning at the beach hut. We’d planned to spend his last day on the Island together but he never turned up and I couldn’t get hold of him. I didn’t see him until he was leaving for Southampton airport that night and we had to say this awful, awkward goodbye in front of my parents and his mum.’

  ‘Why did you never tell me any of this?’

  Willow sighed. ‘Because I was embarrassed and ashamed. I thought everything he’d said had been a line and I’d fallen for it. It was easier just to keep quiet and leave for university as soon as possible.’

  ‘Well that answers a few questions,’ Skye said, tapping her finger on the table. ‘But I doubt anything he said to you that summer was a line, just to get you into bed.’

  ‘What other explanation is there?’

  ‘I don’t know, I guess you’ll have to ask him.’ Skye paused. ‘Why have you never asked him before?’ she asked. ‘Why did you never give Luc a chance to explain where he was that day?’

  ‘Because it wasn’t just about Luc,’ Willow replied quietly. ‘It’s taken me years to realise this but when both he and Dad left together, I felt as though they were both abandoning me. I always pretended I was OK about Mum and Dad splitting up and Dad leaving but…’ She trailed off, unable to find the words for what she was beginning to realise.

  ‘But you weren’t OK,’ Skye said.

  Willow shook her head. ‘I felt so angry and resentful and I think by not acknowledging that to myself or anyone else it allowed me to ignore my past, to pretend it hadn’t happened.’ She looked away from Skye for a moment. ‘And that left a big open space in my life for Charlie to swoop in.’

  Skye was quiet for a moment. ‘I had no idea you felt like that,’ she said after a while.

  ‘Why should you? I didn’t really realise myself.’

  ‘I can’t say anything about your relationship with your dad – I never knew him that well,’ Skye went on. ‘And perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore but I’m fairly sure Luc meant everything he said to you that summer. He was crazy about you; he always had been.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really, and if the way he was looking at you the other day was anything to go by I’d say he still is.’

  Willow surprised herself with the bubble of laughter that burst out of her. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said. ‘Even if you’re right about when we were kids, it’s been twelve years and he’s moved on. You heard him on the phone the other day.’

  ‘Ah,’ Skye replied with a smile. ‘The mysterious “sweetheart”.’

  ‘Yes. There’s no way that was his agent. Didn’t you think it was odd?’

  ‘What’s really odd is that Luc told me he wasn’t seeing anyone,’ Skye said.

  ‘You asked him?’

  ‘Yeah, when he first arrived, before you came back,’ Skye went on. ‘He told me his life in America was complicated, that he needed some time out, which is why he came back to the Island. I assumed it was girlfriend trouble but he told me that a girlfriend would just complicate everything even more.’

  Willow tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach – as if she was ever going to be Luc Harrison’s girlfriend anyway.

  ‘Maybe it was his agent,’ she mused.

  ‘Or a groupie!’ Skye replied, her eyes sparkling.

  ‘Do you think he has groupies?’ Willow asked. ‘What a weird thought.’

  ‘Who knows? You know better than I do what wankers musicians can be!’ Skye broke into laughter and Willow couldn’t help but join in.

  Later as she was leaving, Skye said, ‘Maybe you should talk to Luc about the day he left.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Willow replied reluctantly.

  ‘Perhaps it’s time you allowed him to explain.’

  Willow nodded, knowing Skye was right. She had always known that something had happened that morning that had stopped him coming to the beach hut. He’d hinted at it in the letters he’d written but he hadn’t told her what it was so she’d assumed at the time it was a lie. But Luc had never been that sort of person.

  ‘It’s so good to see you again,’ Skye said, wrapping Willow in a huge hug. ‘I wish you were staying for the whole summer.’

  Willow stepped away and looked down Seaview High Street towards the sea. The gulls circled overhead, waiting for a tourist to drop a chip. She had felt so comfortable with Skye today and she could feel the familiarity of the Island, the familiarity of her childhood, wrapping itself around her. Every day that she stayed the Island felt more like home. Every day that she stayed she felt the mandolins in her mother’s shop calling out to her to play them. She didn’t want to go back to London, but the thought of everything she would be giving up if she didn’t, made her stomach churn.

  ‘I’ll see you before I go,’ she said.

  ‘That would be great,’ Skye replied. ‘Today has felt just like old times.’

  And when she smiled, Willow knew exactly what she had to do.

  *

  ‘Michael, it’s Willow,’ she said as her boss at the bank answered her call on Monday morning.

  ‘Hello, Willow,’ Michael replied. ‘I was wondering if you’d call. Marcy told us what happened.’

  Marcy was the only person from Willow’s work who had come to her wedding, the only person Willow had invited. Willow had been compartmentalising her life for so long that she didn’t even realise she did it anymore and she had compartmentalised her work so much that she hadn’t wanted anyone to come to her wedding, to see her in a non-work setting. She’d only invited Marcy because she’d pestered Willow so much.

  ‘How are you?’ Michael asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Willow replied. It seemed to be the only answer she had for anybody anymore, but there was one thing she did know – she couldn’t go back to work in a week’s time. ‘I was wondering—’

  ‘If you could take some time off?’ Michael interrupted. The relief Willow felt at not having to say the words herself was immense.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Is it possible?’

  ‘You’ve accrued quite a lot of holiday,’ Michael said. ‘So you could use that initially. After that we do have a paid leave policy that is at the company’s discretion and we could sort something out with HR.’

  ‘Oh I’ll only need another week or two,’ Willow said hurriedly. She had worked so hard for that job and she knew that taking time off would be seen as a weakness. Nobody who dealt in futures could be seen to have an Achilles’ heel.

  ‘How are you really feeling, Willow?’ Michael asked.

  ‘I honestly don’t know,’ she said. ‘As though my head is full of cotton wool and I can’t think.’ She looked at the instruments and books and music paraphernalia in her mum’s shop as she spoke. ‘As though London is a very, very long way away.’ As soon as she said it she felt as though she’d said too much, as though she’d killed her career in one sentence. But Michael surprised her.

  ‘You must take as much time off as you need,’ he said. ‘Burnout is a serious problem in our industry – you know that – and the company is trying to take a more compassionate stance on it where we can.’ He paused. ‘We can’t risk getting sued.’

  Burnout. Is that what was wrong with her?

  ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘Take the rest of the summer, Willow,’ Michael said gently. ‘I’d rather see you back here fit and well and ready to take on the world in September than to have you come back now and need to watch your every move in case you make a mistake because your mind’s not on the job.’

  Willow didn’t say anything for a moment as she tried to weigh up the feeling of anxiety at the possibility of losing her job, of not having the money to pay her half of the mortgage, with the feeling of relief that she wouldn’t have to go back next week. She hadn’t realised how much she didn’t want to until she had been standing outside Skye’
s tattoo studio the afternoon before.

  ‘There’s at least a month’s salary owing to you in holiday pay alone,’ Michael was saying. ‘I’ll get HR to contact you to sort out the details. I don’t need to know what’s going on in your life, Willow, and whatever you tell HR will be in confidence, but I do need to know that my staff are capable of doing the job.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Willow replied. It sounded hollow and weak.

  ‘And if you don’t want to come back in September—’

  ‘I’ll be back in September,’ she interrupted.

  ‘Well, we’ll see,’ Michael said before hanging up the phone.

  Willow looked around The Music Shop again. This was her life, for now at least.

  Charlie finally called about half an hour later. There was an echo on the line and he sounded far away.

  ‘Where are you?’ she asked. ‘You sound different.’

  ‘I’m surprised you care,’ he replied.

  ‘Of course I care, Charlie – I know it doesn’t seem like it but I do.’

  ‘Have you any idea how much money my parents spent on that wedding?’ he went on. ‘Have you any idea how embarrassed and humiliated they were after all their hard work?’

  ‘I never asked for any of it,’ Willow heard herself say as though she was listening to herself from far away. ‘I never wanted that big fancy country wedding that they insisted on. I never understood why we had to go along with everything your mother wanted.’

  He didn’t say anything for such a long time that Willow thought he’d hung up. She wouldn’t blame him; she didn’t know where that outburst came from. But it was true. It hadn’t been the wedding Willow wanted – she didn’t want to get married in a church – she’d never been to church in her life. She didn’t want a string quartet; she didn’t want the big white dress that she’d practically had to starve herself to get into. She didn’t want any of it. And yet she had gone along with it all, smiling and nodding and never saying anything, because she’d been trying so hard to avoid getting married on the Island, getting married amongst memories of the past.

  She had been trying so hard not to think about Luc and his new-found fame that she hadn’t had time to wonder if she might be marrying the wrong man.