Chapter 7 #2
“I landed a graduate job as an analyst with an investment company straight out of uni. By the time I reached the end of the six-month probationary period I knew it wasn’t the life for me and I quit.”
“That was brave.”
“Not really. I knew I’d be unhappy in that world if I stayed. I might’ve made a lot of money, in fact I know I would have made a lot of money, but what’s the point if you’re miserable?”
“Agreed.”
“Also, while I’d been studying for my degree, I spent a summer working at a maths camp as a tutor and I loved it.
That was the summer after you and I knew each other.
The camp was part of an educational programme designed to help kids improve their numeracy skills during the summer holidays.
My university department was involved in helping to run it and they recruited undergraduates to provide the tuition.
We got extra credit for taking part, as well as paid a decent fee too.
I only planned on working there for a couple of weeks before looking for a summer job elsewhere.
But once I got started I loved it and decided to stay for the rest of the summer. ”
“It sounds like a wonderful experience.”
“It really was. When I started the graduate job with the investment company, it wasn’t long before I was comparing how unhappy I was there to how happy I’d been the summer before when I was working at the maths camp.
I started to wonder if maybe teaching might be my thing after all.
Turns out, it was. Once I got my teaching qualification and started working in schools, I knew I’d made the right decision. ”
Gaby liked hearing how Peter had found his perfect job and how he’d been willing to ditch his assumptions about what would make him happy in life. “And switching to a teaching career meant you could move back to Hamblehurst too.”
Peter nodded. “That wasn’t part of my thinking at the time, but life in London wasn’t right for me either. Once I was qualified I moved around for a couple of years before a job vacancy opened up at the secondary school here. I was happy to come back and be close to my family again.”
“I remember you were always a tight-knit bunch. It was sweet. I loved spending time with your family. Your parents were always so nice to me.”
She’d been invited to dinner at their family home on many occasions during that summer she’d known Peter. The fun and warmth in the Bailey household was in stark contrast to the anger and gloom at her parents’ house.
Peter must have been able to read her mind because he gave her a thoughtful look. “So, how are your parents?”
“They’re okay. Both remarried. Both still complaining about each other to anyone who will listen.” She frowned and shook her head. “Sorry, that’s not a nice way to talk about my parents, is it?”
“If it’s true, it doesn’t matter if it’s not nice. I remember that summer we were together and how much their arguments hurt you, even though you weren’t even living in the same house as them.”
She’d gone to stay with her Aunt Jill that summer to escape her parents’ endless battles at home and temporarily moving to Hamblehurst had at least removed her physically from the war zone.
But she’d still heard all about their constant arguments whenever they spoke on the phone.
Her mother gave her chapter and verse of every shouting match and while her father had been more circumspect over the details, he’d still been happy to indulge in snide comments and character assassinations.
It was little wonder she’d kept her phone calls home to an absolute minimum during that summer.
“Staying with Aunt Jill that summer was the best thing I could’ve done,” Gaby said.
“When my parents decided to separate, I thought the hostilities would settle down but they only got worse, especially as they both refused to move out of the house. I think they secretly liked torturing each other. Getting away from all that was a relief.”
Peter’s expression clouded. “I always knew whenever you’d spoken to either of them because you were sad and withdrawn afterwards. I hated that.”
“You always chased away the sadness, Peter. No matter how bad I felt, you made it all better.”
She hadn’t meant to say something so raw and honest but it was out there before she could stop herself. When she looked up from her wine glass, Peter’s smile was soft.
“I would’ve done anything to make you smile, Gaby. Anything.”
He held her gaze for a long beat and the noise and bustle of the pub seemed to vanish as she looked into his eyes.
“It was an amazing summer we spent together,” she said.
“The best I’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
“Without a doubt. The endless sunshine. The long hot days. And you.”
Her heart was fluttering wildly because of what he was saying and the way he was looking at her. It was inevitable that they’d revisit their memories of those long-ago summer days, but she hadn’t realised how bittersweet it would feel to remember the past.
Because the look on Peter’s face wasn’t desire, like it had been back then.
It was a look of longing.
Longing for days that were gone.
That’s why her heart was fluttering. The words he’d said had sent a bolt of longing through her for a time that was lost in the past. And that made her ridiculously and inexplicably sad.
“Do you remember the afternoons we spent lazing around beside the river?” Peter asked. “Just talking and laughing.”
There’d been a whole lot more going on than just talking and laughing.
She remembered their endless kisses beneath the summer sunshine, remembered lying in Peter’s arms as they stretched out on the old picnic blanket he brought whenever they went to the river, remembered the feel of his body so close to hers.
The look on Peter’s face across the table told her he remembered those things too. In that moment, she knew they were both thinking the same thoughts and remembering the same sweet memories of their summer love affair.
“We used to hold hands for hours,” Gaby said, “lying beside the river underneath that old oak tree.”
The soft rush of the river and the dappled light beneath the oak canopy and the familiar warmth of Peter’s fingers laced through hers—she could hear and see and feel those things as if they were happening right now.
Peter smiled across the table, his eyes searching hers. “I loved those days. Do you remember the night we climbed up Blackberry Hill to watch the meteor shower?”
“God yes! I’d forgotten about that. It was amazing.
” Gaby couldn’t understand how that memory had slipped out of her mind.
From the vantage point above Hamblehurst, they’d watched meteors streak across the summer night sky, each burst of light making her clap her hands with joy.
“It was almost four in the morning before we came back down the hill.”
“I had to sneak back into my parents’ house so they wouldn’t give me hell for staying out all night with a girl who’d only just left school.”
“And I had to sneak into my aunt’s house or she would’ve grounded me for sure. Looking back, I’m not sure how I managed to get inside without waking her.”
“The magical powers of being a teenager.”
“Yes, that must be it.”
They shared a laugh. “Those were great days,” Peter said.
“The were wonderful.”
He gave her a long look before speaking again. “It’s funny, but I sometimes wondered—”
The moment was broken when Peter’s phone began ringing. He frowned and pulled it from his coat pocket.
“Sorry, I thought I’d switched it to silent.” He looked at the screen and then back at Gaby. “Actually, do you mind if I take this? It might be important.”
“Of course not. Go ahead.”
He accepted the call and Gaby sipped her wine while he chatted for a few moments. The conversation was brief and most of it came from whoever was on the other end of the line.
“Don’t worry about it,” Peter said to the caller. “It was a long shot and you don’t have to apologise… No, I understand… Of course… I’m sure something will come up… Okay, speak soon, mate.”
He ended the call and blew out a breath.
“Is everything okay?” Gaby asked.
He gave an exasperated shrug. “Just a problem I’m trying to sort out at school but I’m not having much luck.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I’m organising the school careers fair and one of our guest speakers pulled out.
I’m having trouble finding a replacement.
The fair is on Tuesday afternoon and that’s just too soon for most people to be able to rearrange their diaries or get time off work.
That call was the last feeler I’d put out, from an old university pal getting in touch to say he can’t help. ”