A Starlit Summer
A Starlit Summer
by
KATE FROST
LEMON TREE PRESS
Kindle Edition 2020
Copyright © Kate Frost 2020
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events or localities, is entirely coincidental.
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The moral right of Kate Frost to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
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All rights reserved in all media. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author and/or publisher.
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Cover design by Jessica Bell.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Join Kate Frost’s Readers’ Club
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Join Kate Frost’s Readers’ Club
Acknowledgements
For Tom & Teresa
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Chapter One
‘You’re a dreamer, that’s your problem.’
Jenna resisted huffing like a teenager. ‘Why exactly is it a problem?’
‘Because it’s never allowed you to concentrate on a career. You’re always flitting from one thing to another. It used to be singing, then you wanted to be a potter, an interior designer, then you did modelling, voice-over work, now it’s acting.’
‘It’s always been acting, that’s never changed, it’s just I’m fully focused on it now.’
Her mum didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to; Jenna knew what she was thinking, that she didn’t have a serious career. Bit parts in film and TV wasn’t a regular income or a job her parents could show off to their friends. They had her older brother for that, a lawyer in a multinational company.
Jenna downed her tea and stood up. At least she wasn’t living at home any longer; they couldn’t complain that she wasn’t supporting herself.
‘I get that you’re acting now, but tomorrow you might want to do something else, I don’t know, open up your own cafe. Anything.’
‘It actually pays quite well, the acting.’ She rinsed her mug out in the sink and stacked it in the dishwasher.
‘Maybe it does,’ her mum said, ‘but it’s not exactly constant work... It’s unpredictable, that’s all I’m saying. It worries me.’
Jenna sat back down opposite her mum at the kitchen table and tapped her finger on the photo of the cottage. ‘I only said I’d love to do the cottage up, not that I’m going to do it. I mean look at it. Can you imagine what it’ll be like when it’s renovated?’
‘I can. I remember spending summer holidays down there when I was a kid, before Aunt Vi was unable to look after it.’
‘Yeah, but still, it must have been pretty old-fashioned even back then.’
‘Thanks, Jenna, I’m fully aware of how old I am.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just it needs modernising, but in a tasteful way.’
‘It had a country cottage charm about it, that’s for sure. It was always a little rough around the edges but then Auntie Vi was on her own, no husband or children to help.’
‘You could argue that gave her more time to look after the place.’
‘Not after she had trouble with her hip, and she wasn’t keen on company in her later years despite our best efforts to visit and help out. She was even more stubborn than my mum and that’s saying something.’
‘Is that why we’ve not been there since me and Jack were little?’
‘Sad isn’t it.’
Jenna’s dad strode into the kitchen, a frown on his face and a tape measure in his hand. ‘What you two gassing about?’
‘Aunt Vi’s cottage.’
‘You could do it up, Dad.’
‘I’d love to, just haven’t got the time. Your mum’s keeping me far too busy here.’
‘He’s measuring in our bedroom to build fitted wardrobes.’ She turned to her husband. ‘We’re going to have to get someone else to do the cottage, aren’t we, love? It’ll cost too much to keep it on without renting it out, and it can’t be rented in the state it’s in at the moment.’
‘Prime location though. Shouldn’t be a problem filling it with holidaymakers once it is done up.’ He switched on the kettle and leant against the worktop.
‘If you’re so interested in the place,’ Jenna’s mum said, gathering together the photos on the table and glancing at her, ‘then come down with us next weekend and help sort through Aunt Vi’s stuff.’
~
Jenna couldn’t stop thinking about the cottage all the way home from Guildford to her flat in a supposedly ‘up and coming’ area of west London. She felt guilty for thinking it, but her mum was so lucky being left it in the will. She knew her mum was focused on the responsibility and cost rather than the many possibilities. Jenna had to admit there was a lot to do, but...
She gingerly backed her car into her space in the underground car park. She grimaced as she squeezed herself through the gap between her car and her neighbour’s. They continuously parked on the edge of their space leaving Jenna having to do weird yoga-type poses just to get out. She slammed the door shut and made a mental note to talk to them again.
The modern building she lived in had a secure car park but it was crammed with soulless one and two bedroom flats. The letting agent details had described her flat as cosy and charming. The cosiness was because it was tiny, and she assumed the charm was down to the incredibly distant view of a park on a hill above a sea of rooftops. But it was a view of sorts and it was a place of her own with a living, dining and kitchen area, a small bathroom, and a bedroom with enough space to fit a bed and a wardrobe. Most importantly it was her space.
Jenna dumped her bag on the floor and flopped on the sofa. With no job lined up for tomorrow, she texted Carla about going out. She didn’t have anything scheduled for the rest of the week either, which usually worried her, but she had spent Monday and Tuesday filming a sunglasses advert. Not only had it been a lot more fun than expected, it was decent money, so she wasn’t freaking out about the rest of the week being quiet.
They met at a Middle Eastern restaurant almost exactly between where they lived. The large window below the deep blue sign, Baba Ganoush, was steamed up from the heat and people inside. Carla was already there, easy to spot with her short pink hair, sitting on the ben
ch that lined the far side of the restaurant, clashing with the mustard-coloured wall behind her.
‘Hey, Jenna!’ Carla stood and enveloped her in a hug, her nose-ring cold against Jenna’s neck.
Jenna sat on the chair opposite. ‘I thought I’d be the one waiting for you.’
‘Unbelievably we wrapped early.’
‘You were that good were you?’ Jenna smiled and poured herself a glass of water.
‘I was the only dancer in the end; they wanted a one-on-one scene.’
‘I’d love to be in a music video.’
Carla reached across and touched Jenna’s long blonde hair. ‘Trust me, with your looks, you absolutely will be one day. But hey, getting gigs in film and TV is pretty awesome.’ She picked up the menu. ‘Do you know what you want? I’m starving.’
‘Didn’t they feed you well on set?’
Carla scanned the menu. ‘Yeah, too good as always, but totally stodgy stuff that I avoided considering I was in little more than a boob tube and leggings.’
Jenna smiled, knowing full well Carla had little to worry about and she’d make up for the lack of food this evening. ‘I’m going to have my usual. Kofta, pilaf, grilled Turkish pepper and baba ganoush’
‘Nice. I might have the chicken sheesh with those creamy leeks.’
They dunked strips of flatbread into beetroot and tahini dip while they waited for their main course. Jenna sipped her large glass of wine, something she never did if she was working the next day, as it always made her head groggy and sent her into a panic about sleeping through her alarm. But tonight she could relax.
‘Have you heard from Heidi?’ Carla picked up her wine, sat back against the cushioned bench and looked across the table.
Jenna shook her head.
‘Not since you moved out? Not at all?’
‘Nope.’ Jenna dabbed the side of her mouth with a napkin.
‘Wow, you really are pissed with each other.’
‘Are you surprised? I’m fuming. Why the hell does she get to be pissed at me? I did nothing wrong and yet it feels like I’ve taken the blame.’
Carla held her hands up. A tattoo of a snake wriggled from her wrist down the length of her arm. ‘I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me. It’s just you were always inseparable, practically since the first day of drama school. My two favourite blondes.’
Jenna swirled her wine around the glass. ‘Doesn’t that make you wonder why the hell she’d treat me the way she did?’
‘It was underhand...’
‘That’s an understatement!’ Jenna leant forward and rested her elbows on the table. She kept her voice low, despite the anger churning in her stomach. ‘She stole a role from right under my nose; it was more than underhand; it was utterly deceitful.’
‘I totally get why you moved out, but don’t you want to try and have some sort of friendship with her? At the very least have a conversation about it.’
‘Honestly, I don’t care if it feels like I’m being childish or holding a grudge or whatever else anyone thinks; she needs to make the first move. She needs to grovel. An apology would be nice. Ignoring the situation isn’t going to make me come running back with open arms.’ Jenna placed her glass on the table. ‘Have you spoken to her?’
The waiter appeared next to them. ‘The kofta?’ He placed the plate in front of Jenna. ‘And the sheesh kebab. Enjoy.’
Carla picked up a knife and fork and smoothed a napkin on to her lap. ‘I saw her the other day at a casting for an ad. We were there for different roles... This is the thing though, isn’t it, you two were always going to end up competing with each other for parts. You’re too bloody similar – looks-wise at least, if not personality.’
‘What, cos I have integrity and she doesn’t? However much I want a role, I’d never do what she did. Never. Us being competition for each other doesn’t excuse what she did.’
Carla skewered a piece of grilled chicken with her fork and pointed it at Jenna. ‘I agree, it doesn’t. It really doesn’t. I just want my two best friends to kiss and make up. Selfish reasons on my part. We were an awesome team.’
Jenna reached across the table and took Carla’s hand. ‘I know how tough this is on you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose sides or not talk to her...’
‘I don’t feel like that, Jen, honestly I don’t. You’re too good a friend to make me feel like that. And Heidi, well, thanks to her deceitfulness, she’s too bloody busy most of the time filming with Bond himself, the whole ’effing reason why we’re in this mess to begin with.’
~
Jenna left Carla with a hug and they went home to their own flats. Jenna loved Carla’s independence and how uncomplicated their friendship was, unlike her and Heidi’s. Carla had always rented a room in a shared house but never with a fellow actor. Smart really, Jenna thought as she cycled home, to ensure life outside work was free of drama queens and the complicated egos of actors.
It had only been at the end of last year when Jenna had moved out of the flat she’d shared with Heidi. Although she liked having her own space and was free from the tension that had been created after what she did, it still felt strange not having a flatmate to come home to, to chat, laugh and watch Netflix with or to eat cheese toasties with in the kitchen at midnight.
Since living on her own, Jenna had got into the habit of checking her voicemail and email the moment she got in. She kicked off her boots and sat on the sofa with her laptop. Nothing interesting in her messages, so she emailed her agent to update her availability. Unless there was something happening on the weekend like a wedding or someone’s birthday, she liked to keep herself free in case she got a last minute job. But instead, she emailed Beth to say she was unavailable for the upcoming weekend. She was going to go to Cornwall with her parents to help them sort through Aunt Vi’s things. Most of all she wanted to see the cottage for herself.
Chapter Two
It was a hellishly long drive to Cornwall. They left before rush hour on the Friday as Jenna’s dad Tony decided it was the best way to avoid the worst of the traffic, while her mum Kath was keen to give themselves as much time as they could to sort through the cottage. It was years ago that Jenna had been on a long journey with her parents. The drive reminded her of family holidays when she was a kid, squabbling in the back with her brother, heading to a caravan park on the Norfolk Broads or down to Dorset or Cornwall camping.
The landscape changed from the suburbs, to the fields and countryside of middle England, to the winding narrow roads boxed in by hedges and trees as they got closer to Aunt Vi’s cottage. After more than four hours in the car she was feeling sleepy, but she perked up when her dad said they were about ten minutes away. She’d already looked on Google maps to see where the cottage was, and had become even more excited when she discovered it had a perfect location; on its own surrounded by countryside, just a short drive to the nearest beach, and a little further to the coastal town of Falmouth. It had everything going for it. Jenna got butterflies as she glimpsed a smudge of deep blue sea on the horizon. Tony turned off on to a narrow road and they were once again swamped by leafy trees lining each side, forming a tunnel of luminous green above them.
‘It shouldn’t be far now,’ Tony said, leaning forward in the driver’s seat. ‘So keep an eye out.’
There was nothing but green hedgerows and trees. The lane even had grass and weeds growing along the middle.
‘Dad, I think you missed it,’ Jenna said as they whizzed past a wooden gate half-hidden by foliage.
‘Damn.’
They had to keep driving for another mile before they found a gateway to turn around in. Tony took it easy on the way back, slowing down in time to pull into the space in front of the worn wooden gate with a faded sign saying ‘Bramble Cottage’. Jenna jumped out of the car and struggled to push the rickety gate open over the stones. Branches slapped the sides of the car as her dad drove into the driveway. Jenna closed the gate and followed her parents’ car as i
t slowly rocked its way down the stony uneven drive. Overgrown shrubs and grasses lined each side, encroaching on the already narrow lane. Her dad stopped the car in a space just big enough to park two cars.
Her parents got out and slammed the car doors shut. Birds shot out of a beech tree and flapped into the air.
‘Well,’ Kath said. ‘It doesn’t look like anyone’s touched this place in a long time. You can barely even see the cottage.’
The cottage was right in front of them. At least the side of it was – an outbuilding with a partly collapsed roof was built against the end wall of the cottage. A rose clambered up the side, obscuring most of the faded white wall, and entwined itself into the broken slate tiles of a roof that was in desperate need of repair. It was early spring and the recent rain, followed by sunshine, had left the garden overgrown. Trees loomed on all sides so Jenna couldn’t even tell where the garden started. Leafy greens and pink and white blossom swamped the place, making the cottage feel enclosed.
Jenna followed her parents along a weed-covered path around to the front of the cottage. Her immediate negativity about the place and how much needed to be done vanished as the whitewashed cob and stone building was revealed, along with the front garden, a wilderness with steps leading up to an overgrown lawn bordered by shrubs. A breeze rustled the branches of trees, wafting the scent of hyacinths in their direction. Apart from the crunch of their feet on the gravel path, the only sound was the breeze and birds twittering.
They reached the front door and Kath fumbled in her bag for the keys. Jenna wandered up the stone steps to the lawn; long grass swiped at her skinny jeans as she turned to get a proper look at the cottage. It was a tired dirty grey instead of the gleaming white it must have once been. The wooden sash windows looked original, but the paintwork was peeling. Jenna was certain the wood beneath would need some major TLC.
Kath pushed open the front door. ‘Oh my.’
Jenna followed her mum inside. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Although the three windows in the kitchen and dining area were a decent size for a cottage, they were engrained with dirt and hardly let in any light. Kitchen units ran along the back and side wall, but they were worn and dated. In the middle of the room was a small wooden table and two chairs that looked a little lost in the large and empty space. Jenna guessed with only her Great Aunt Vi living here for decades, there was no need for a bigger table or updating anything at all.