Page 59 of All Summer Long

Robinson rolled onto his side and drew gossamer fine patterns on Alice’s stomach with his fingertip. ‘Do you think she’s right?’

Alice wasn’t sure why his question felt more ominous than it ought to.

‘It is pretty romantic,’ she said, eventually.

‘It is,’ he said softly, moving over her and parting her legs with his knee. ‘It’s romantic, and you’re incredibly beautiful, Alice, and when the time comes that I do have to leave you and go home, I want to close my eyes and be able to see you here, just like this.’

He was inside her body and her mind, and in that moment, he was inside her heart too. And then she knew why tonight felt so serious. Robinson had come close to leaving today; he’d been forced to think about it at least. Tonight was the start of their long goodbye. It might be tomorrow, it might be a few days, or if they were lucky it might be weeks, but something inside him had shifted, and this tender, melting sex was his way of putting them on notice.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The gypsy caravan looked spectacular down at the far end of the meadow behind the woods. It had been home to an ecstatic Banjo for the last couple of weeks, too. The first time Alice had opened the door and glimpsed inside the caravan was a moment she’d never forget. She’d expected to find it dated, a bit of a renovation project, but what she got was something so unexpectedly perfect that she’d actually welled up. The double bed sat raised over polished cherry-wood cupboards across the far end, and its heavy velvet side curtains turned it into a stage for those inclined to put on an all-star performance between the crisp white sheets topped with a colourful patchwork quilt. Gilt and deep green leather ran amok all around the interior, every bit original and obviously cherished by Starling Loveridge when it had been her marital home. Mother-of-pearl flowers had been intricately inlaid into all of the gleaming woodwork, and the graceful curve of the roof had been painted all over with the most marvellous fresco of cherubs and angels. It was utterly, unashamedly kitsch, and Alice felt more like its fortunate caretaker and custodian that its owner.

‘Morning, Alice,’ Dessy called out across the meadow, resplendent in neon jogging attire.

Alice stepped out of the caravan, clean sheets over her arm. ‘You do know you’re jogging on private property,’ she grinned.

‘And here’s me doing you a favour.’ He popped his earbuds out and handed her a bundle of mail. ‘Saw the postman by the gate and offered to bring this up for him.’

‘I don’t suppose you were hoping to bump into a certain easy on the eyes cowboy while you were up here,’ she teased, on to him.

‘He’s a damn sight more charming than that evil little sour puss we’ve got the pleasure of at The Siren,’ Dessy grumbled. Marsh had been left with no choice but to check in at the only B&B in the village after missing his flight home and Robinson’s refusal to book new tickets.

‘I leave when you do,’ Marsh had said, digging his heels and fully expecting luxury full bed and board at the manor in the meantime. He’d been disappointed. The last thing Robinson needed was his manager around as a perpetual and extremely loud reminder that the clock was ticking for him to return home.

‘He’s allergic to so many things that it’s a wonder the man isn’t living inside an oxygen tent,’ Dessy went on. ‘Honestly, Alice, he’s a nightmare.’

Alice flicked through the mail. Ominous-looking brown ones, and official-looking white ones. They all made her nerves jangle.

‘Can you sing, Alice?’

She looked up, confused by Dessy’s sudden change of tack. ‘Umm, a bit, I suppose? Why?’

‘Karaoke at The Siren next Friday night. Bring Niamh.’ He glanced slyly over his shoulder in the direction of the manor. ‘And anyone else you might know who can sing.’

Alice started to laugh. ‘You don’t have a hope in hell of Robinson coming, if that’s what you’re angling after.’

Dessy sighed. ‘Worth a try.’

Alice lifted her camera and shot off a volley of images of Dessy as he jogged away towards the woods, a bright flash of pink as he disappeared, leaving her alone with her thoughts, her shire horse, and a handful of unwelcome mail.

‘I’ve got an appointment with the bank in three weeks’ time,’ Alice said, full of nerves. ‘It came this morning.’

Robinson gathered small, early apples that had fallen from the trees for Banjo. ‘That’s a good thing, right?’

Alice rolled her shoulders. ‘I suppose so. It just means I need to try to write a convincing business plan. I don’t know what I’ll do if they say no.’

‘My offer still stands, Goldilocks.’

She shook her head as they walked across the meadow, just as he’d known she would. He’d offered more than once over the last couple of months to act as her unofficial banker for the project and she’d refused him every time. He didn’t push it. He knew her well enough by now to know that her independence mattered a great deal to her, more and more so, and it was one of her many qualities he’d grown to admire. To look at Alice it would be easy to make lazy assumptions that she might be fragile and need taking care of, but to believe appearances would be to woefully underestimate the girl. She was fragile, but she was also iron willed, and much as sheltering her under his protection fed his caveman soul, she soared highest and happiest unfettered.

Banjo ambled across the meadow as they approached him and pushed his nose into the bag Robinson held.

‘Easy there, big fella,’ Robinson laughed, feeding him his haul and giving Banjo’s ears a good scratch. ‘He’s looking well, isn’t he?’

Alice nodded. ‘In rude health.’

She hadn’t the first clue about horses, and Robinson had delighted in taking complete charge of Banjo when he arrived in Borne. She’d watched as he washed the horse’s legs down and brushed his heavy mane, and listened as he’d ordered supplies of food and kit to settle him in. A brand new stable had been erected at the side of the meadow within days, a cute building fashioned by Robinson from reclaimed wood to sit happily in its surroundings, the perfect shelter for the village’s new gentle giant.

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