One Hot Summer: A heartwarming summer read from the author of One Day in December. Kat French

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СКАЧАТЬ and out of breath. Alice raised her eyebrows at Niamh and then drew a telltale X over her heart with her fingertip.

      ‘Cross your heart, eh?’

      Niamh looked sheepish. ‘It wasn’t my fault, Alice. After you left I was so excited that I blasted out a few of Robinson’s best tracks and Rambo hopped along the sill into my living room.’

      Hazel nodded, instantly back in cahoots with Niamh. ‘He did, Alice. I had to go round and get him, you know how Niamh isn’t a fan of birds. Not that my Rambo would hurt a fly, mind.’

      ‘He bloody swore at me,’ Niamh said, indignant.

      ‘I beg your pardon.’ Hazel puffed up like a peacock, back to being offended again. ‘That bird’s got better manners than bonny Prince Charlie himself. If he swore he was only repeating whatever you’d said to him.’

      Alice caught Ewan’s eye behind his mother’s back and shared a disbelieving look. Everyone in Borne knew Rambo, Hazel’s beloved mynah bird. He spent most of his days perched on Hazel’s open windowsill shouting obscenities at passersby, cackling with wild laughter if he managed to make someone jump. Hazel always alluded to a shady gypsy past if she was quizzed on how Rambo had come to be her glossy black familiar, dropping her voice an octave and drawing a veil over the exact details. She knew perfectly well that he swore like a sailor yet chose to defend his honour whenever anyone dared mention it.

      ‘Anyway,’ Niamh said, rolling her eyes. ‘Hazel came round to fetch Rambo back and happened to mention that Robinson Duff was her absolute favourite, and the words sort of, well, fell out of my mouth before I could stop them … you know how it is …’ Niamh trailed off. ‘I didn’t tell Stewie, though. Hazel did,’ she added, as if that made it any better.

      ‘I didn’t,’ Hazel shot back. ‘I’m the soul of discretion, me. I only told my Ewan, and that doesn’t count. He’s family.’

      All three women looked at the teenager, who twiddled nervously with his nose rings. ‘Rambo?’ he muttered, trying to make it sound a convincing suggestion. He might have blushed. It was difficult to tell under the mop of dyed black hair and dark make-up.

      ‘Err, where is Stewie?’ Hazel said, suddenly noticing the empty deckchair.

      Ewan inclined his head towards the manor with a disinterested expression. ‘He went that way while you two were fighting.’

      Alice sighed and sagged against the doorframe, sending a silent apology across the gardens. Quite what Robinson would make of Borne’s answer to Elvis was anyone’s guess.

      ‘Oh. My. Bloody. God.’

      Alice followed Niamh’s shocked gaze and spotted Pluto leading Stewie back across the gardens, and she could only agree with her friend. Even though she’d already had the benefit of meeting Robinson, she saw him with fresh eyes now she knew exactly how famous he actually was. There was a distinct swagger to Stewie’s walk as they drew nearer, like a kid on bring your pet to school day who’s brought a real live tiger in.

      ‘Robster,’ he said, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops and inclining his head towards Niamh. ‘This little lady is Niamh, our resident artist.’ Niamh stood up and bobbed an awkward curtsey, then swooned slightly as Robinson smiled easily and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

      ‘An artist, huh?’ he said, making conversation.

      Niamh nodded, struck stupid. ‘I draw naked men.’

      Alice noticed how Robinson looked slightly taken aback by Niamh’s response.

      ‘Wow. That must be rewarding, right?’ he said, eventually.

      Alice could only admire his ability to find anything at all to say. Stewie shot Niamh a dark look, as if she’d tried to stroke his tiger, and ushered Robinson along.

      ‘And this here honey is Hazel,’ he said, although he didn’t really need to perform introductions as Hazel was already out of her seat and practically pressing all five foot of her entire body against Robinson. Stewie coughed and muttered ‘bit forward there, old girl,’ under his breath, and Alice found herself wondering if it had been some time since Hazel had been near an attractive man.

      ‘It’s your aura,’ she breathed, holding Robinson’s face between her heavily ringed hands. ‘I’m drawn to you like a magnet.’

      ‘She’s a bit bonkers,’ Niamh supplied, drawing a spiral in the air beside her temple.

      Hazel tossed Niamh daggers over her shoulder and then swung back to Robinson again. ‘Mother nature is here, can you feel her energy flowing between us, Robinson? You’re a male pole, and I’m a female connector. We should …’

      ‘Uncool, Mother. So uncool,’ Ewan interrupted hastily, standing up. ‘You’re practically mounting him. Give him some space, man.’ He stepped between his mother and a relieved-looking Robinson and stuck out his hand in the unsure way only a teenager can. He might not be a country music fan, but he was as awed as everyone else to be in the company of someone usually seen only on TV or magazine covers.

      ‘Mr Duff,’ he said formally, more like a forty-year-old businessman than a seventeen-year-old student. Robinson took his hand and shook it warmly.

      ‘Call me Robinson,’ he said, turning Ewan’s cheeks pink for the second time that afternoon.

      ‘And you’ve met Alice,’ Stewie said, still trying to hold on to his role as circus master.

      ‘I have indeed had the pleasure of Alice’s company already,’ Robinson said, finally looking her way. His rich, honeyed drawl gave nothing of his mood away and his expression was difficult to read. She didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell if he was okay with this minor invasion, bemused by it, or even annoyed.

      ‘Don’t just stare at him, girl,’ Stewie laughed loudly, edging towards hysterically bombastic. ‘Get the man a drink. Whisky, Robbie?’

      Robinson glanced at his watch. ‘Might be a little on the early side for me.’

      ‘Coffee?’ Alice suggested instead, reaching another cup down.

      Stewie led Robinson over to the recliner he’d recently vacated himself, dusting it off for dramatic effect and then bowing low to indicate the new king of Borne should take his rightful throne. It would have been quite theatrical had it not been for the fact that he bowed so low that his Elvis wig fell off and plopped into the deckchair in front of him like an errant guinea pig. Stewie styled it out, retrieving it whippet quick and slapping it on his head back to front as he straightened up.

      Alice stepped across the camp and handed Robinson his coffee, bending her knees in the smallest of maid-like gestures. ‘Coffee, m’lord,’ she said, handing him the mug. ‘I think I might have a plastic crown somewhere …’ she added, earning herself a narrow-eyed look from her tenant. He looked as if he was about to say something but was distracted by the arrival of Niamh on his left and Hazel on his right, each perched on an upturned bucket, his unlikely pair of handmaidens.

      ‘Can I say I love your music?’ Niamh said, thoroughly starry eyed. ‘I saw you live a couple of years ago, in Manchester? You might remember me; I was the one at the front with the banner that said “I’ll be your Mrs Robinson”.’

      ‘Here’s СКАЧАТЬ