‘Someone told her they’d seen you kissing so she sacked Honor. She really doesn’t want you guys to be together. I meanreally. I’ve just seen Honor and she looks as if she’s been run over by a train.’
‘She’s upset,’ he repeated. And could have added:You don’t know the half of it. Honor’s husband has shown up and — listen to this, it’s good — turns out that Robina is Honor’s mother. So you’re Honor’s brother, which explains why she took you under her wing. She didn’t tell you? I know exactly how that feelsbecause she didn’t tell me.And, maybe,Did you happen to see the husband over breakfast at all . . . ?
But he couldn’t let his sparks of anger and hurt ignite the whole box of fireworks because it was Honor’s decision whether to tell Ru.
And, whoever’s fault this sticky mess was, it wasn’t Ru’s.
He managed a smile. ‘I’m working on a relaunch of a site this weekend. Come round on Sunday evening and upload all the files — if you can do that without pissing your mother off.’
‘Wicked. I just won’t tell her.’ Relief ran across Ru’s face like a flicker of sunshine. He opened the door and backed out on to the space at the top of the stairs. ‘I’ll be—’
‘Ru!What theflying fuckare you doing with him?’
Ru’s and Martyn’s gazes locked, neither looking down at the street from where the bellow of rage had come. ‘Oh, shit,’ they said, in unison.
Then Ru shoved his hands into his pockets and turned reluctantly to clump down the stairs. ‘What?’ he demanded, in his best belligerent-teen, mothers-are-so-crap voice.
On the ground, Robina’s eyes burned with rage as they flicked from her son to Martyn. ‘What are you doing with that bastard?’
Ru’s steps halted. ‘Don’t be lame, Mum—’
‘I said,what are you doing with that bastard?’
‘I’m going to help him with some stuff,’ he muttered, defensively.
‘Like hell you will!’ Robina’s voice achieved the pitch and volume of a whistling kettle.
Male solidarity wouldn’t allow Martyn to abandon Ru. Somehow, he found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with the kid, who was looking as if he could literally be blown against the wall by Robina’s screams. ‘What’s the problem, Robina?’
Robina swung on Martyn and he was shaken to see venom where he was used to seeing the fawning hot looks she’d been sending him for what seemed forever. ‘You take your American bitch and fuck off. Ru, go home.’
Martyn tried to make his voice conciliatory, because poor Ru had to live with Robina, at least for the next few years. And surely Robina’s erstwhile crush couldn’t have been buried so deeply, so quickly? ‘Robina, there’s no need for this—’
‘Touch my son again and I’ll call the police,’ she snarled.
He recoiled. ‘Don’t be ridic—’
‘I mean it.’
They glared at one another. Slowly, Robina turned and yanked Ru along by his elbow, away up The Butts in the direction of the Teapot.
Bursting with impotent wrath, Martyn hurled after Robina, ‘I’ve heard stalkers can turn on their victims!’ Then he noticed a denim-clad figure across the road, leaning on the wall outside the Fig Leaf and drinking in the whole scene. Stefan Sontag.
Martyn locked on to his gaze. ‘Want something?’
Stef grinned. ‘Not a thing.’
And then, as if his day wasn’t the pits already, Clarissa’s voice rang out from the car park. ‘Mar-tyn May-fair!’
He swung to face her. ‘What?’ He sounded just like Ru. He even felt like adding,Don’t be lame!
Clarissa hesitated. A dozen expressions flitted across her face, as if she were trying each emotion out for size before wearing it. Finally, she settled for rueful disapproval. ‘From Robina’s remarks, I suppose I know now what Honor and Robina quarrelled about.’
Martyn suddenly realised that he was standing in the entrance to the car park in bare feet being given a talking to by his mum. He wanted to roar with fury. Instead, he turned and sprang up the stairs.
Clarissa’s voice followed. ‘Honor’s lovely but there’s no point getting involved with her, Martyn. She’s only here for the summer. And how much do you really know about her?’
* * *
