Midsummer Magic by Julia Williams

Di touching his arm sympathetically. ‘It won’t last for ever.’
    ‘As long as Josie calms down after it’s all over,’ said Harry. ‘It’s enough to send me back on the fags.’
    ‘If you’re that desperate,’ said Di, ‘I’ve been sneaking down to the end of the garden for the odd puff. I’ve got through most of the packet this evening thinking about my lack of prospects. I can’t face the thought of Peter quizzing me about my future, when he finds out I’ve been made redundant. That is, if Josie even remembers to tell him.’
    Harry laughed. His in-laws’ house was definitely not the place you could ask to smoke in. He was sorely tempted. He’d given up smoking shortly after he and Josie had got together – her dislike of them being enough to keep him on the straight and narrow. But one … one couldn’t hurt.
    ‘Okay, you’re on,’ he said.
    Feeling like a naughty schoolboy, he followed Di nonchalantly down the garden, where she lit a cigarette and passed it to him.
    The first puff made him light-headed. He breathed it in deeply and enjoyed the moment. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the sensation. Before he knew it, he was halfway through his second fag.
    ‘We’d better be getting back,’ said Di, stubbing hers out and throwing the stub over the hedge into the field that backed onto Josie’s parents’ garden.
    ‘Wouldn’t do to get caught,’ Harry agreed. ‘Josie would be livid.’
    He grinned conspiratorially at Diana. It was a relief to be doing something he actually wanted to do for once. It seemed like ages since he’d led a life of his own.
    They made their way up the garden, giggling like two naughty school kids.
    As they emerged from behind the bushes, Josie walked out onto the patio, carrying a salad bowl. She looked over at them and a sudden stab of pain shot across her face. She covered it up quickly, saying brightly, ‘So, what have you two been up to?’
    ‘Just had a stroll around the garden,’ said Harry, trying not to feel guilty, but she looked so stricken he suddenly realised she’d drawn the wrong conclusion. ‘Josie –’ he began, but she slammed the salad down on the table and fled into the kitchen. Oh God, what had he done?

1986: Tatiana
    ‘Tatiana, darling, give us your best smile.’
    The cameras flashed as she spun and smiled and pouted and grimaced on the red carpet, on the way into the newly inaugurated UK TV Awards, held this year at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. And it was all for her.
Sail for the Sun
was a huge success, and this year, Sandy Kane’s heartbreaking storyline, involving a miscarriage, a nervous breakdown, and an unfaithful husband, had ensured that
Sail for the Sun
had been topping the TV charts for week after glorious week. And she was its star. Finally, all the years of hard work had paid off and she was at the top of the tree.
    ‘Come on, love, show us a bit more cleavage,’ said Snifter Suggs, a particularly loathsome member of the paparazzi who’d gained his moniker from being able to sniff out where the good stories were to be found. Tatiana smiled sweetly but failed to oblige, and shoved back the unwelcome thought that despite her success, she was still the painted doll, preening to give men pleasure.
    ‘Yes, Tati, do show us your tits,’ a sneering voice behind her said.
    Bron. That was all she needed. Annoyingly, he and Freddie were also up for several awards tonight.
Illusions
was the most-watched TV show on a Saturday night, ‘great family viewing’, the
Mail
had called it, and it regularly got viewing figures of over twenty million, not quite as good as
Sail for the Sun
, which had maxed out at twenty-nine million for the episode in which Sandy Kane’s discovery of her husband’s infidelity had led to her miscarriage, but it grated on her that Bron and Freddie were having such success. Freddie had finally got what he’d always wanted, and he and Bron were reaping the rewards.
    ‘Bron, Tati, give us a