Page 70 of All Summer Long

‘Tell me this, son. Are you, or are you not, planning on turning up in Nashville for your sold-out home-coming concert in three weeks’ time?’

Robinson sat down at the table. ‘You know damn well I’ll be there.’

‘And you expect to still have a career after it?’

Robinson swallowed hard. Truth was that he’d deliberately pushed away all thoughts of beyond the commitment he’d made to the concert. He plain old didn’t know which direction he wanted his life to go in, but Marsh would have a meltdown at that kind of indecision.

‘Here’s the deal, Robinson. You want us to stay in business together, then this is how we’re gonna play it.’ He paused, then said, ‘You’re a sex addict.’

‘The hell I am!’ Robinson said, genuinely startled, and even Lena let out a strangulated laugh from her stance over by the Aga.

‘Yes, you are. You’re a sex addict, and you came here to check in to therapy in London but ended up being seduced on the way there by some star-fucking blonde in Toy Town and everything spiralled out of your control.’ Marsh drummed his fingers quickly on the table. ‘I can make this stick. Have youseenyour damn neighbours? A washed-up porn star and some pagan nutso, not to mention Alice in fuckin’ Wonderland herself. It’s one step away from a cult and you’ve been sucked right in. Enter Lena, your beautiful, caring and well-known wife who has selflessly flown over here to step in and rescue you.’ Marsh stopped to breathe and slapped his hand down. ‘This thing right here is a good old American intervention.’ He gestured between Lena and himself, hitting his stride and shouting like an evangelical preacher. ‘What you’re looking at is your bona-fide rescue party, and if you’re wise, son, you’ll shut the hell up and let yourself be goddamn rescued!’

Marsh stopped talking and stared at him, wide eyed.

Robinson stared back, incredulous. ‘Have you lost your mind?’

Marsh’s eyes bulged. ‘I’m trying to help you here, son. Work with me.’ He made son sound more like a curse than a term of affection.

Robinson turned to look at his estranged wife. ‘Why are you really here, Lena? Last I heard we were filin’ for divorce.’

Lena shrugged one slender shoulder prettily and crossed to sit beside him. ‘I still care ’bout you, baby. I thought we could … talk.’

‘Which I’m guessing roughly translates as you’ve realised that good old Buck doesn’t have enough money to bankroll your expensive tastes.’ Lena had always been the one who revelled in his income, her closet stuffed full of the latest designer clothes and her calendar stuffed full of dinner dates at the most exclusive restaurants. She was high maintenance in every sense, a big spender with a hot temper. It had made for a tempestuous married life, and Robinson hadn’t missed the drama one bit.

Lena laid a hand on his arm and twirled her hair around her finger. ‘Sex addiction’s a serious thing, Robinson,’ she said with wide-eyed fake sincerity. ‘I just wanna help you.’ She leaned forward to give him a bird’s-eye view down her low-cut white dress and whispered close against his ear. ‘You know I can help you with that addiction of yours. Remember how hot it was between us?’ She slid her red nails up his thigh. ‘Buck just didn’t measure up, honey.’

Robinson closed his eyes and summoned up the image of Buck and Lena over his kitchen work surface to combat the lies being poured like warm wax into his ears. Had it really only been little more than a year since he and Lena had been together? It seemed like a lifetime. Her perfume was new and stuck in his throat, and her over-long dark lashes were as fake as the new boobs she’d insisted on two Christmases ago. She was a beautiful fraud, both in body and in her heart. Pushing back his chair, he got to his feet.

‘Marsh, if I ever hear the words sex addict come out of your mouth about me again, you are no longer my manager. If I hear you say another bad word about Alice or anyone else in Borne, you are no longer my manager. Am I making myself entirely clear?’

Marsh watched him in silence.

‘Now, take Lena to The Siren and wait for me,’ he said, looking at Marsh. ‘Give me until morning. You say nothing to the press, understand? Give me tonight, and you can book the flights.’ He looked up as Alice appeared in the doorway. ‘Give me one more night, and then I’ll go home.’

Lena looked Alice up and down, her hands on her hips. ‘Really?’ She looked across at Robinson skeptically. ‘Oh, please. She’s practically a Girl Guide.’

Even after her bath, Alice felt woefully under armed in the face of Lena’s perfectly groomed glamour. Converse shoes, yesterday’s cut-off shorts and her pink vest proved no match for the other woman’s white linen dress and heels, and the no make-up look didn’t help the situation.

‘What are you, nineteen?’ Lena looked her over again.

Alice met her eyes head on, uncowed. You don’t scare me, lady. Not these days. ‘I think Robinson asked you to leave.’

Attractive as Lena undoubtedly was, the sneer that twisted her lips at the sound of Alice’s soft English accent was ugly by any definition.

‘And I don’t think that’s any of your business, darlin’.’

Alice didn’t flinch. ‘It is while you’re in my house.’

Robinson crossed to the back door and looked at Marsh. ‘Go this way and round the side. You can walk across the woods at the back and follow the path, or go down the drive through that lot. You choose, but Marsh, I swear to God, if you say even one word about sex addiction or cults I will not be on that plane.’

Tension radiated from every bone of Robinson’s body as he stared at his manager.

Marsh looked at Lena, and then down at her shoes pointedly.

‘You’re gonna have to take those things off. We’re goin’ hikin’.’

Lena looked at him as if she was Jerry Hall and he’d had a frontal lobotomy. ‘I don’t hike.’

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