Testing the Waters and other stories

Polly Dodd

Description

A weekend visitor, a long absent sister - a new friendship, an old superstition - a lingering melody, a suppressed memory - a holiday that reveals, another that restores - just some of the ingredients in this collection of a dozen warm and engaging short stories.From wild northern coastlines to warm southern shores, from close knit villages to urban city streets, the stories take the reader on swift journeys into the complications of domestic lives - of single women and wives, sisters, lovers and mothers - with the consolation of happy resolutions.Family loyalties are tested in The Call of the Seagulls. That Song recalls the potency of music and discontent threatens the stability of a marriage in The Country Wife. A young child in Special Delivery faces a different kind of Christmas whilst the new owners of a remote cottage find their elderly neighbour more challenging than expected in Home Truths. Seize the Moment sees Louise confronting the unexpected in her relationship with her daughter and in A Growing Family a considerable adjustment is required. And the title story, Testing the Waters, set in an idyllic holiday setting, follows the fortunes of Helen as she tries to negotiate a relationship with the daughter of her new partner.Loss and love - sentimentality and humour - disappointment and hope - Testing the Waters and other stories offers a ride through lives that may sound vaguely familiar to the reader yet offer a brief, entertaining escape from the reality of their own.

Sujets

• Short story

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 octobre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781803133416
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2022 Polly Dodd

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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ISBN 9781803133416

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A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd


Contents
TESTING THE WATERS
THAT SONG
THE CORN DOLLY
A GROWING FAMILY
SPECIAL DELIVERY
THE CALL OF THE SEABIRDS
A TIME TO TALK
THE COUNTRY WIFE
HOME TRUTHS
FIRST LOVE
BIRTHDAY SURPRISE
SEIZE THE MOMENT


TESTING THE WATERS
Her neighbour from the plane suggested they share a taxi.
“We might be going to the same resort,” he said hopefully. He had introduced himself as David on the runway at Gatwick and talked for most of the flight. Helen shook her head firmly.
“Thank you,” she said. “But I’m being met.”
“Staying with friends? How long for?”
“A fortnight. My – they’re picking me up. In fact – yes, there he is.”
“Right,” he said, somewhat deflated, “Well, enjoy yourself, won’t you? It’s a wonderful place for a holiday.”
The Arrivals Hall thronged with people and Helen stood helplessly, feeling overdressed and anaemic while Nick negotiated the crowds and queues. He hugged her warmly then headed them towards the exit.
Outside, the heat assaulted her. She followed Nick to the car park, dazed by the sunlight.
“It’s wonderful to have you here. We’ve missed you.” He squeezed her hand briefly then started the engine of the small hire car.
“You, maybe. I can believe that. But Amelia has probably been dreading my arrival.”
“Oh, it’s not as bad as that. She’s just a bit uncertain of you, that’s all. Concerned you’ll usurp her in my affections. She’s a difficult age.”
“You haven’t said anything about us?”
“No, I thought we’d tell her together.”
Coward, she thought, and burrowed in her bag for sunglasses.
“You’re going to love the villa, it’s only minutes from the sea and there’s a communal pool. There’ll be time for a swim before lunch. How does that sound?”
It sounded blissful.
Almost.
Helen looked out at orange groves and white walled houses and tried to remove the shadow of her prospective stepdaughter from the landscape.
*
They pulled into the narrow road and skirted the walls of the small villa. Nick called across the neat patch of grass towards an occupied sun lounger.
“Hedgehog? Sorry, Milly – Helen is here!”
The outstretched body remained comatose, but a muffled voice reached them.
“Can’t move. I’m tanning the backs of my legs.”
“All right, but I thought you’d like to know we’re back. I’m taking Helen up to the villa to unpack, then maybe a swim in the pool so if you want to join us ---”
“It’s my beach day today. I’m off there in a moment. And anyway, I’m meeting Charlie and Adam later. You know, my new friends.”
“Not coming back for lunch? Well, suit yourself, but don’t get burnt.”
A sandy hand waved a bottle in Nick’s direction. “Sun milk and tanning oil. Can I get on with my reading now?”
A well-thumbed paperback book was pulled from under her. Nick shrugged and headed the two of them inside.
*
The quarry tiled floor held the imprint of Helen’s feet. She unpacked and changed into a sundress while Nick went off to buy fruit and cheese from the local shop for lunch. In the kitchen she found a bottle of iced mineral water and sat now, in the shuttered sitting room, rubbing a cool tumbler of it across her forehead.
The two of them had already met.
Coming one day to collect Nick, she had found him still working, engrossed in staring at his computer screen with the deadline for an article hanging over him. Helen had sat in the living room with Amelia, tried to talk, asked about school and exams, receiving abrupt, guarded replies.
More recently, Nick had planned a picnic for the three of them, on the pretext they could discuss holiday plans and arrangements, but although the weather had been perfect and Helen had carefully prepared a packed lunch, ten minutes before they were to drive off into the country Amelia had announced that she was spending the day with friends.
They had gone, just the two of them, and in a field littered with buttercups and poppies, high up in the Chiltern Hills, they had pinned their marriage to the first Saturday in October. The knowledge, however, was still theirs alone.
Helen opened the shutters and was blinded for a moment by the brilliance of the light. The doors led onto a large walled balcony which faced the sea and the seemingly endless stretch of beach, interrupted only by huge cliffs that formed coves and small inlets.
Nick had been clear about his situation from their first date.
Amelia’s mother, Tessa, had left nine years previously. Evidently, Nick had not been surprised by her decision to swap the marital home in Finchley for a fellow actor’s studio attic in Shoreditch. When Tessa had called in the following week to collect her possessions and deal dry-eyed with the entreaties of her seven-year-old daughter who, unlike the French saucepans, the collected works of Brecht and the heated hair tongs, was not included in her luggage, Nick had realised how intensely he disliked his wife. And so came to be relieved, after the initial shock and a certain panic, that he held the responsibility for bringing up Amelia. They had muddled through together, he had explained to Helen, a lot of warmth and an enormous helping of love and devotion from him compensating for Tessa’s absence. Amelia never spoke of her mother’s desertion, but was loyal and defensive whenever Tessa’s name arose, he told her.
And Tessa kept in touch in her way.
Rare, but extravagant lunches in Soho, free seats for unsuitable and experimental fringe productions in small venues. Now that Amelia was a socially presentable and attractive adolescent, she would invite her out more frequently as if her daughter had at last become a useful accessory, rid of inconvenient childish behaviour. Helen had never met her, but assumed that one day such an event would be unavoidable. She dreaded it almost more than she feared her meetings with Amelia.
*
They arrived back at the villa together, Nick having met Amelia on the dusty track that led up from the beach. Helen opened the door of the bedroom a little to listen to her lively chatter as Nick unpacked the shopping.
“So they said they’d take me tomorrow, if the water’s right. Charlie and Adam.Won’t it be amazing? And there’s going to be a barbecue on the beach on Sunday night, so can we go?”
“Yes, of course. I’m glad Helen’s arrived in time for it.”
“Oh, I’d forgotten about that. Well, maybe it’s not such a good idea.”
“Go and find her for me, Hedgehog. She’s probably still in the bedroom.”
Helen called from the hallway outside the kitchen, adopting her brightest tone.
“No, it’s all right, I’m here. Just trying to start off my tan so I don’t look so pale next to you two. You’ve had a week’s head start, after all.”
“Dad always tans terribly quickly and I take after him.”
“We usually have lunch inside as it’s the hottest time of the day, don’t we, Milly?”
“Yes, we do, but why don’t you take yours out onto the balcony, Helen? If you want to sit in the sun.”
Amelia turned her back, put out a plate of cheese and a basket of peaches on the marble kitchen top. Added some crusty bread. Helen watched her as she carefully drew up two stools.
“I think I’ll resist the sun for a while,” she said calmly.
“Well, actually, it’s a squash for more than two,” Amelia said pointedly, “it’s only a small kitchen as you can see. So I’ll take mine down to the pool. Don’t forget we’re playing tennis this evening, Dad. I’ve booked the court for seven o’clock.” She took a roll and thrust a wedge of cheese inside it. “Actually, I’m enjoying my book so I’d prefer to get on with it than talk to you two.”
They watched her go. Nick shrugged resignedly, sat down on a stool and cut a large tomato into quarters.
*
The bedroom was dark and cool. Helen could hear distant cries from the beach. She lay puzzling whether the crack in the ceiling above was an aeroplane or a wild horse. She looked at Nick beside her, the divisions between the white and tanned skin giving the effect of clothes in spite of his nakedness, and thought about the curiosity of love. Here was a man, physically similar to most, intellectually equalled by many, upon whom her equilibrium now depended. How absurd that one vulnerable human being should seek another for strength and stability, when their combined frailty probably made them all the more susceptible. Nick stirred. She prodded him with her foot.
“Wake up, Amelia might come back in a minute and find us.”
“No, she’ll be on the beach with her friends. She’s got to know a couple of boys staying with their families in the complex.”
“That’s nice for her.”
“Yes, I only hope she’s not being a nuisance. You know, tagging along where she’s not wanted.”
“Why do you call her ‘Hedgehog’?”
“Touchy and full of prickles