Free Summer of Secrets by Rosie Rushton

and––’
    ‘Now wait, Lynne,’ Caitlin’s father said hastily. ‘If I’ve learned one thing in all my years in law, it’s not to believe everything you read in the press. As
I keep telling Caitlin when she wastes her money on those awful gossip magazines, if it’s in the press, the chances are it’s at least fifty per cent incorrect.’
    ‘Precisely!’ Caitlin shouted in triumph and grabbed her opportunity. ‘Just like that photograph – it looks so much worse than it was. I wasn’t drunk – I was
so startled I fell back into Tom’s arms when the flash bulbs went off.’
    ‘So why were you soaking wet, answer me that one?’ her mother demanded.
    ‘I – er . . .’
    ‘Come on, Mum,’ Jamie broke in quickly, ‘you can hardly blame Caitlin for the fact that some idiot got silly and hurled a jug of water over her, can you? These things happen at
parties.’
    He winked at her as their parents glanced at one another.
    ‘I suppose you have a point,’ Mr Morland said reluctantly. ‘On this occasion, we will say no more about it – but just let it be a lesson to you. You never know
who’s watching you.’
    ‘Can I go now?’ Caitlin asked. ‘Summer and me––’
    ‘Summer and I ,’ corrected her father.
    ‘Whatever. We’ve arranged to meet up and do some shopping – bikinis and stuff for the holiday.’
    ‘Oh no,’ her mother replied firmly. ‘In view of all this . . .’ She pointed to the newspaper and shuddered. ‘. . . you are not going anywhere with that
crowd.’
    Caitlin stared at her, aghast.
    ‘Mum, you can’t do that! You promised. You can’t go back on your word now.’
    ‘You’re very naïve – that much has been made quite clear – and going off on your own with perfect strangers is now just not on. At your age, a family holiday
is much better – I’ve said it all along.’
    ‘She won’t be on her own. Because I’m going too,’ Jamie announced.
    ‘You? You never said.’
    ‘I couldn’t get a word in edgeways!’ he pointed out. ‘Summer invited me last night, at the party. And Izzy’s going to come, too.’
    Bad move, thought Caitlin. Not a good idea.
    ‘You? And Isabella?’ Mrs Morland looked horror-struck. ‘But Jamie, you hardly know the girl.’
    ‘Mum, this is the twenty-first century.’ Jamie sighed. ‘You don’t have to know someone for months before you get – well, before you hold hands.’
    ‘But her family – I mean, you can see for yourself.’ His mother stabbed at the newspaper again. ‘What sort of example are they?’
    ‘What her parents do is not Izzy’s fault,’ Jamie retorted.
    ‘True, but your mother does have a point, Jamie,’ his father remarked. ‘I’m not at all sure that you’re wise to get too involved with all these upper-class,
trust-fund types. I said when Caitlin started at that school, that they’re not our sort, they don’t have our moral parameters and––’
    Mr Morland stopped in mid-sentence as the doorbell rang.
    ‘I expect,’ Caitlin’s mother put in, looking reprovingly at Caitlin, ‘that will be someone from the village, waving a newspaper and gloating over your behaviour. Edward,
you get it.’
    Her husband sighed and went to the door.
    ‘You want what?’ they heard Caitlin’s father exclaim. ‘Well, you can go on wanting. No comment – none whatsoever!’
    The front door slammed with such force that the ornaments on the hall table rattled. Mr Morland stormed back into the room.
    ‘Bloody cheek!’
    ‘Dad!’ Jamie and Caitlin exclaimed in unison. The one thing not allowed in their house was any form of swearing.
    ‘Edward, what is it?’ Caitlin’s mother asked.
    ‘Local paper wanting to talk to Caitlin,’ he replied. ‘Apparently, someone recognised her photo and now the Chronicle want one of those “I was there and this is
what really happened” pieces.’
    ‘I don’t mind,’ Caitlin burst out eagerly. ‘I took loads of photos. Maybe they’d buy some – even do a