Page 15 of All Summer Long

‘Why did you do that?’

Alice stormed into the kitchen and rounded on Robinson ten minutes later. Brad had pushed every last one of her buttons and she was just about ready to explode.

He leaned on the Aga in her favourite spot and folded his arms over his chest, unrepentant.

‘He deserved it.’

‘And that was your decision to make, was it? Did you stop for even one minute to think about what I wanted? Don’t bother answering that, I’ll do it for you. No, Robinson. No, you damn well didn’t.’

Robinson shrugged. ‘If you want me to apologise, I’m not going to, Alice, he needed a dose of his own medicine. He’s only lucky I didn’t hit him.’

They faced each other across the kitchen.

‘You know what this is, don’t you? This is you taking your marriage problems out on mine.

There’s a man out there somewhere in the world that you wish you’d punched, and your crazy, screwed-up logic somehow thinks that taking it out on Brad is going to even up the score.

Well it might make you feel manly in your own eyes, but it makes you look a twat in mine. ’

A pulse flickered along his jaw and his eyes flared with anger. She didn’t care. He wasn’t half as pissed off as she was right now. She yanked the back door open so hard it banged back on its hinges and then turned back to him, furious.

‘Don’t you ever kiss me again, Robinson Duff, not for revenge nor anything else. Is that perfectly bloody clear?’

Where was that goddamn tequila when he needed it?

Robinson slid down and leaned his back against the Aga, knees bent, head in his hands.

Alice was right and he knew it. There were things he wished he’d said and done differently with Lena, and maybe he had acted out of turn just now.

He’d already been wound up tight by Marsh’s email that morning.

It didn’t matter how many tickets had been sold or how much money had been sunk into the plan, there was no way on earth that he was going back to do the damn concert or any others behind it.

He’d come halfway around the world to get away from all of the crap back home, and all he’d wound up with was a raft of new fucking problems to go with the old ones that had followed him across the globe.

‘Two glasses of red, please,’ Niamh said, leaning on the bar at The Siren that evening.

‘You may as well give us the bottle, Dessy,’ Alice said beside her. ‘We’re going to need it.’

Dessy raised his eyebrows in shock. ‘Sounds juicy, darling. Shall I bring a third glass for me?’

Alice shook her head. ‘Girl stuff.’

‘I always wanted to be a Girl Guide,’ Dessy said sadly, rolling his shoulders in his floral shirt. ‘Broke my heart when my mother made me be a Beaver.’

Alice and Niamh found an empty table by the fireplace and slumped down.

‘I’ll be so glad when I’m done with this commission,’ Niamh grumbled. ‘If I have to look at Brice Robertson’s wrinkled todger for much longer it’ll put me off sex for life.’

Alice smiled despite her own turmoil and filled their glasses. ‘Are you almost done?’

Niamh nodded. ‘It’s his last sitting tomorrow, thank God. I’m going to get blind drunk tonight so I can get away with wearing dark glasses all day.’

The idea of drinking until she couldn’t remember her troubles appealed greatly to Alice. ‘Brad came round this morning,’ she said, picking up her wine glass.

‘What? Why? You should have come and got me, I’d have given him what for.’

Alice huffed. ‘Robinson made a good job of that in your absence.’ She was still hopping mad with their resident cowboy.

Niamh perked up. ‘Ooh, do tell. I was going to ask you how he was getting on.’

‘He went all macho, then kissed me and strutted off in a temper.’

Niamh’s hand covered her heart and her eyes went round as pennies. ‘Robinson Duff kissed you? Fark! Was he good?’

‘Did you miss the part where he went all weird and macho and stuck his oar into my business without asking?’

Niamh flapped her hand, agog. ‘No, I heard you and we’ll come back to that in a minute, but come on. You kissed Robinson Duff. I want the gossip before we do the serious stuff.’

Alice twisted her gold bracelet around her wrist. ‘He was angry. It wasn’t a romantic kind of kiss.’

‘I don’t get you,’ Niamh said, looking pained. ‘He just kissed you suddenly out of the blue to piss Brad off?’

‘Sort of,’ Alice hedged.

‘But he’s a good kisser, right? Please say yes. You’ll crush my dreams if you say no.’

Alice rolled her eyes. ‘When he wants to be.’

Niamh studied her friend over the rim of her wine glass. ‘It wasn’t the first time he’d kissed you, was it?’

Much as Alice didn’t want to feel as if she was betraying Robinson’s confidence, she really could use her friend’s ear and advice. ‘No. He kissed me in the kitchen last night too.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’

Niamh slid forwards on her seat. ‘And tell me you kissed him back and realised that your absent husband is not actually the be all and end all when it comes to men. That his kiss was so hot that your lips blistered and you dragged him upstairs and had your wicked way with him three times with his Stetson still on?’

‘Niamh …!’ Alice said, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. ‘No, of course I didn’t drag him upstairs. He ran me a bath to surprise me, and we had dinner together. We were talking and the kiss just sort of happened, you know?’

‘I so wish I had your life,’ Niamh sighed dramatically. ‘It’s not fair that you get to see a sexy cowboy todger when I have to look at Brice Robertson’s. It’s like a shrivelled toad.’

Alice ejected that particular image out of her head speedily. ‘I only kissed him, Niamh, and I won’t be doing it again in a hurry after the way he acted this morning.’

‘What, you mean the time he gave your cheating big bad ex what for and showed him what he’s missing?’

Alice sighed. ‘Robinson did it for himself, Niamh, not for me. He’s got a million issues with his own screwed-up marriage and decided that meddling in mine would make him feel better.’

Niamh’s mouth thinned out. ‘If it means that Brad got a taste of his own medicine then I don’t see why you’re so mad.’

Alice drank a huge mouthful of wine. ‘Everything’s messed up, Niamh. Brad came to tell me that he wants the house.’

‘The manor?’ Naimh said, all romantic thoughts cast instantly aside. ‘He wants Borne Manor?’

Alice nodded miserably. ‘That’s what he said.’

‘What for? He never even really liked the place!’

‘Reading between the lines I think Felicity is behind it,’ Alice said. ‘He used phrases like “perfect country bolt hole” and “why should you have all the peace and quiet?”’

She shook her head, remembering back over the heated conversation she’d had with Brad after he’d declared his intention to take the manor.

It had been so obvious that the words and phrases he was spouting were being fed to him by his jealous girlfriend.

She could only thank her lucky stars that she’d made the decision to lease the place out when she did, and even more lucky stars that it had all gone through so quickly.

One superstar in particular had saved her bacon, and she’d thank him if she didn’t feel so much like killing him.

Even if Brad did want the manor, Robinson had a watertight six-month lease and was entitled to stay there until the end of October, giving Alice much needed thinking time and space.

‘But you’re gonna fight him, right?’

Alice nodded slowly. She’d never been more determined or sure about anything in her life. ‘That glamping plan just got a whole lot more urgent.’

The much promised sunshine made an early appearance the following morning, flooding the Airstream with shafts of light that bounced off the polished domed ceiling above Alice’s bed.

Her eyes still half closed, she basked in the gentle warmth adding to her sleepy comfort as it filtered through the polka dot voile screens that shielded the windows.

Stretching, cat like, she contemplated bringing an early coffee back to bed.

Opening one eye, she looked at the kettle and wondered if she could will it to boil itself.

If the coffee could just see its own way into a mug and over here to her in bed, that’d be just about the perfect start to the day.

That was the thing with caravan living. Everything was so close you could almost touch it.

Truth told she didn’t hate it. Much as she adored the manor, being in there on her own had quite often been a lonely experience.

The Airstream was cosy and compact, a protective tin bubble around her from Brad, Felicity, and even from Robinson.

‘Alice!’

She groaned and cocked her ear to listen as someone banged on the door.

‘Alice, open up. I’ve got coffee.’

Hmm. It sounded like Hazel. Alice looked at the kettle again, impressed with her own ability to summon coffee. Or maybe there was more to Hazel’s magical skills than anyone gave her credit for. Either way, she pulled herself up and scrubbed her fingers through her hair.

‘Coming,’ she called, climbing out of bed and pulling her robe on over her PJs.

Tying the belt reminded her of the last time she’d worn it with Robinson in the kitchen at the manor.

Snatching her hair back with a band she found in the pocket, she shook the memory into the recesses of her head.

It was way too early for that sort of thing.

‘Morning, Hazel,’ she said, opening the door to find her neighbour had made herself at home on the chairs out there. ‘This is a surprise, come in.’

‘I better not, love,’ Hazel said, her eyes on the caravan roof. ‘Rambo followed me. He’ll want to come in too.’

Alice leaned out and peered up at the mynah bird perched above her doorway. He peered back down at her with his shiny, black bead eyes.

‘Filthy bugger! Change your sheets!’ he screeched, a perfect mimicry of Hazel’s tone.

Alice jumped and shot him a filthy look as she stepped out of the caravan to join Hazel on the deckchairs.