The Summer Seekers

Maybe age didn’t give you wisdom, but it gave you the benefit of hindsight.

She couldn’t change how her life had played out. She couldn’t undo the decisions she’d made. But she could do her best to make sure Martha didn’t go down the same road.

“I may not have been afraid of living, but I was afraid of loving.” Given that she’d never spoken the words before, they were remarkably easy to say. “I’d hate to see you make the same mistake.”

10

LIZA

Liza woke to the sound of birdsong and the smell of fresh linen. Cool air drifted through the open window, bringing with it the scent of sea salt and honeysuckle. Her head was nestled deep in the softest pillow and for a few blissful seconds she basked in extreme comfort, and then life intruded.

She was in Oakwood Cottage.

She’d driven the whole way without stopping, with the music of her choice blaring through her speakers. She’d arrived in the dark and collapsed on top of the bed fully clothed, too drained by the whole emotional experience to do more than remove her shoes.

Despite everything, she’d fallen asleep easily and slept deeply, which at least meant she was rested for the moment of reckoning.

She sat up, braced to experience a pounding of difficult emotions.

What had she done?

She’d left her family. No, not left them. That sounded permanent, and this wasn’t permanent. But whichever way she framed it, family was everything to her and right now she should be feeling terrible. It came as a shock to discover that she wasn’t.

Last night’s feeling of panic had faded, but the hurt and loneliness was still there.

She wasn’t even sure why she’d walked out the way she had. It had been a culmination of emotional pressure that had built over the day until she’d thought she might burst. From Sean forgetting their anniversary to Caitlin demanding that she bring the cup to school in her lunch break, the whole day had been a stark reminder of all the things that were making her unhappy in her life.

She hadn’t left t

o make a point. She’d left because it had been necessary for her sanity.

She needed space and thinking time. Her brain wasn’t given sufficient respite from stress to figure out what she really wanted.

Still, it felt unnatural being here on her own.

She’d chosen to sleep in the bedroom she’d used as a child rather than the bigger guest room that she and Sean occupied on their visits. Why had she done that? Perhaps because it was a way of winding back time to the life she’d been living before this one. The person she’d been before the woman she was now.

The oversize map of the world was still stuck to the wall, complete with the markings she’d made with her father. Gathering dust on the shelves were all her old books, favorites that she’d never part with. Usually they were held in place by the art award she’d won at school, but that seemed to be missing.

Her mother must have stowed it away somewhere.

Feeling ridiculously disappointed that her untidy mother would choose to tidy up that particular item, she walked to the window and gazed out over the fields to the sea. This had been her view every day when she was growing up.

The sun blazed and she could feel the heat pumping into the room even though it was still early. It was going to be a scorcher.

She undressed, put her clothes in the laundry hamper and took a long shower.

Wrapped in a towel, she unzipped the bag she’d packed. She’d randomly pushed various things into the space without giving real thought to what she was going to wear.

Why on earth had she packed that shirt? She hated it.

Every item she pulled out of the bag reminded her of home and the life she wasn’t sure she liked that much. And there was nothing suitable for relaxed outdoor living during a heat wave.

In the end she picked out a fitted white shirt with shell buttons, a pair of cropped linen trousers, and stuffed everything else back in the bag. She zipped it up and stowed it under the bed.

It wasn’t only her life that needed an overhaul—her wardrobe did too.

Maybe she’d pay a visit to the boutique in the village later.