Summer in the City by Fiona Collins

Author:Fiona Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473567047
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2020-12-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

‘I left my sunglasses.’

Kemp is at the door this morning. I’ve just seen him from the window – Converse, jeans and a white T-shirt, standing on the pavement, hands in his back pockets – and now I am at the door I am continuing to ignore how the sight of him makes me feel, as I can’t even begin to qualify it. Nostalgia, probably. Muscle memory for the potential of us, long expired? I expect so. I shouldn’t get this slight jolt to the heart when I see him, I shouldn’t be immediately remembering how he once made me feel. For goodness’ sake, I have the memory of a hot man’s warm lips on me that is mere days old and the excitement of an upcoming lunch date! I should be sticking to those things like a bloody limpet and nothing should be jolting.

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d come back for them.’

‘They’re my varifocal ones,’ he says. ‘Ha, I sound old.’

‘You are old.’

There’s a noise from the stairs, behind me.

‘Prue?’

‘Yes, I’m here, Dad.’

Dad is clanking slowly down the metal steps, his hand on the railing. He insisted he didn’t need my help. He insisted he was ready for the next trip on the list.

‘Where’re you off to now?’ asks Kemp.

‘Kenwood House, at Hampstead,’ I mutter, looking at the ground.

‘Oh, right. In that case, I can get them on the way back. My sunglasses.’

‘The way back?’ I snap my head up.

‘Well, I’ll come with you, shall I?’ says Kemp. He’s grinning at me and his eyes are all twinkly and mischievous. I know that look. It usually preceded a trilogy on the karaoke in the pub: Def Leppard, Aerosmith and Guns N’ Roses. ‘I could do with the walk.’

‘It’s about fifty minutes,’ I say. I have worked out the route, with Dad. We’re going to walk there and get the tube back. It’s another beautiful day and I have been looking forward to it. Since we hugged, at the Shard, I’ve felt closer to him. I’ve felt that we can be there for each other. I hope for better days, and that this sunny Tuesday will be one of them.

‘I know,’ he says, and I have to look away. ‘A nice long walk!’ He’s as excited as a three-month-old puppy, and just as bouncy. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, in his Converse. ‘Well, if that’s OK with you, Prue? Vince?’

‘Fine with me,’ says Dad. ‘And I’m sure Prue will be glad of the extra company,’ he adds. ‘Not just stuck with the blind old goat.’

‘Dad!’

‘Well …’ says Dad, doing an exaggerated shrug, but it is not the ‘blind old goat’ I am objecting to. I don’t want Kemp to come. I don’t want to have to look at him for nearly an hour. Talk to him. Be reminded of all I felt for him. And that’s just on the way … How am I going to feel when I get there?

‘Great!’ repeats Kemp.

I

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