The Secret Life of Evie Hamilton - Catherine Alliott [150]
‘So are your son's.’
‘What?’ she gasped.
‘Just a hunch. And no, you're right, he hasn't been coming in. He's been frolicking in the fields, footloose and fancy-free.’
‘Oh! Just like you with that – that man!’ Ah. Spoke too soon. ‘Gypsy my foot. He's got that bookshop in Jericho, and I've seen him again today, hanging around, up to no good. Well, that's it, Hector's coming home. You're not to be trusted.’ With men, or horses? I wondered. ‘I shall be collecting him forthwith.’
‘You do that. And if Anna still wants a pony, which I'm not entirely sure she will, I'll buy her one, and we'll treat it with care, but like an animal. Your son needs a hanky, by the way.’
She glanced at the small boy beside her, thin and cold-looking, his nose streaming, who no doubt spent all his half-terms and holidays thus, trailing round after his mother and sisters.
‘And if that tack isn't cleaned to within an inch of its life I'll want to know why,’ she ranted on, ignoring me, and her son. ‘That breast plate is brand new. It's Dobson and Farrell!’
I leaned towards her. Put my nose close to hers. ‘You can stick your Dobson and Farrell breastplate where the sun don't shine, Camilla. You don't frighten me.’
And with that I sauntered off, sticking my hands in my pockets, wishing I could whistle. Me and Bob Geldof, eh? I'm sure his language would have been much more colourful. I must brush up on my abuse.
‘Evie.’
I stopped; realized in a flash what she'd meant about seeing that man again, which had momentarily thrown me. For here he was, saying my name, strolling towards me in jeans and a white T-shirt, looking so devastatingly handsome it fairly took my breath away; looking actually, just like the boy in the Levis ad. Boy. Yes, indeed. I was fairly sure I could resist him, but I kept my eyes firmly on the horse manure, just to be on the safe side.
‘Ludo.’
We kissed: a public, social exchange of pecks, one on each side. I stepped back smartly. ‘What the devil are you doing here?’
‘Stalking you. I knew your daughter would be here with her pony and I imagined you'd be watching, so I thought I'd lurk behind the horseboxes and spy on you. D'you find that creepy?’
I laughed. ‘I would if I believed it.’
He grinned. ‘I'm checking out the noise level for this afternoon's shindig.’ He jerked his head across the hedge to where Caro's pink and white stripy marquee was flapping in the breeze in the distance.
‘Oh! Is it today?’
‘Three o'clock. I was just casting a weather eye over the booze supply when I saw – heard, more like – this malarkey going on over the hedge. I'm not convinced loud-hailers and strident women yelling at their children is quite the ambience Alice had in mind, but I gather it finishes at three.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Some very forceful women in the secretaries' tent, one of whom I recognized from our encounter the other night, but all of whom could quite easily have led the Charge of the Light Brigade. I don't know what they do to the enemy, but by God…’ He shuddered.
I giggled. ‘Camilla and cronies. She said you were here.’
‘She clearly couldn't quite place me until it was too late. Kept peering at me, head cocked, eyes narrowed, rather as she peers down the barrel of her shotgun, I imagine.’
I laughed. Then a silence prevailed. We both regarded the ground with interest.
‘Anyway,’ he went on briskly, his head coming up. ‘You're stalking me. You're working in my shop.’
I flushed. ‘It's the only place I can work, Ludo. But I know, I'm sorry. I'm working towards the end of the week, though.’
‘While I'm at the beginning, Malcolm said. So in fact, you're avoiding me.’
‘No,’ I said carefully, my toe scuffing the grass, ‘I just thought…’
‘Relax, Mrs Hamilton. I'm teasing you.’
I glanced up. Grinned. We smiled at one another, standing there in the hazy October sunshine.
‘You look different,’ he observed, at length.
‘I