The Happy Glampers. Daisy Tate. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Daisy Tate
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008313012
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knew she could rely on Charlotte. ‘This is Luna.’

      ‘Luna! That’s a beautiful name.’ She looked back up at Izzy, ‘Sooo … I guess there’s been a bit more than surf camp in your life since we’ve seen you last.’

      ‘Yup. Just a little.’ Understatement of the year.

      Where on earth was Emily? She’d always been better at telling Izzy off for things than Charlotte had. Charlotte had never been any good at telling anyone off for anything. Which was very likely why her children had no respect for her and her husband was having an affair, but that was another matter.

      Izzy held the puppy up. ‘Are you absolutely positive the puppy can’t stay?’ She waved his paw at them.

      ‘Izz. Sorry, it’s just that … Oh, this is terribly awkward …’

      The last thing she wanted to do was upset Izzy’s newly discovered daughter. Charlotte could feel a little bit of her self-possession slipping away. Her friends were bound to see through it, of course. A true friend wouldn’t need X-ray vision to tell she was barely holding it together. It had been years since they’d all lived together, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. Freya had definitely noticed something was up. Since she’d arrived, she kept pointedly making reference to their husbands. Did you know our husbands are at the pub? What will our husbands make of this yurt, these olives, those cows? Maybe not the cow part, but she wished Freya would stop pressing the point that the two of them were married. To husbands. How on earth was she going to get through the weekend?

      Time to have a grown-up talk with Izzy away from little girl ears.

      She smiled at Izzy’s daughter. What was she? Nine or ten? Such pretty blue eyes. So, like Izzy, but she must look like her father, too. Whoever he was. Charlotte knew there was no point in asking Izzy about the father outright. She’d never liked being pushed on personal details. They’d just have to wait until Izzy was good and ready.

       Such pretty eyes.

      Charlotte had always loved blue eyes, especially Oli’s. Light blue like a perfect summer sky, she’d once thought. Lately, today especially, they seemed cooler. Chilly. Like ice.

      Right. On to this talk. ‘Luna, if you like, the children are around somewhere …’

      Freya helpfully jumped in. ‘My children have got a hedgehog they’re looking after until management bring down a little house for it. Perhaps you’d like to join them, Luna?’

      Luna looked up at her mother with a pleading expression. How Izzy ever said no to that face was beyond her. Perhaps she didn’t. ‘Can I stay here with Bonzer? We’ll sit in the car.’ Luna stroked the puppy, which licked her hand.

      Izzy raised her eyebrows at Charlotte’s micro ‘please can you just do this’ look, then smiled softly at her daughter. ‘No, Booboo. It’s a beautiful day, no one is sitting in the car.’ She gave her daughter a hip bump, pulled her incredible mane of dark, coiled hair away from her face and kissed Luna’s forehead. ‘Why don’t you go check out the hedgehog? They don’t have those in Hawaii.’

      ‘Felix and Regan would love to meet you,’ Freya added. ‘My two. They’re twins!’

      Charlotte could see that Luna was clever enough to know she was being moved on so the grown-ups could talk about ‘the situation’ without her.

      ‘C’mon. I’ll show you.’ Freya put out her hand as Luna, clearly intrigued by the prospect of a brand-new mammalian discovery, gave in and took it. ‘Charlotte?’

      Her cue to sort out the problem. This one she could handle. Unlike the wayward husband problem. That one would have to wait.

      Before Izzy could blink, she found herself handing Bonzer’s lead over to Sittingstone’s estate manager.

      ‘Bye bye, bud. See you soon.’ Izzy nuzzled the puppy.

      ‘Any news on the hedgehog house?’ Freya had just jogged up to their little group and given them all a full report on the hedgehog, a need for tweezers (ticks) and an assurance that Luna was as transfixed by the little creature as the rest of the children were. And by ‘rest of the children’, she meant hers. Charlotte’s children, just that little bit older than the others, had been seen sloping off to their bell tent arguing about charging points.

      ‘We should have one kitted out for you in the next hour or two,’ the manager said. ‘The dowager countess has a thing for hedgehogs, so we’ve got loads round the estate. Normally we’ve got a few in store, but this one’s caught us a bit early.’

      ‘Mmm,’ Freya nodded deeply, then mouthed ‘global warming’.

      Izzy stifled a laugh. Same ol’ Freya. Bless. She’d have to triple-check the recycling rules before she threw anything away. That. Or torture her like she and Emily used to back in the day. The fuss over an uncomposted banana skin. Good times. Simpler times.

      The manager gave Bonzer a ‘let’s see now’ look. One that suggested he had the hedgehog situation under control, but puppies? Not so much.

      ‘Are you sure it’s okay?’ Izzy held out her hand for the lead.

      ‘Positive,’ said the manager, who had insisted several times everyone call him Whiffy instead of Peter. Something to do with how he’d always ‘smelt of the countryside’ as a kid, and nowt had changed other than that he lived down South where the weather were a bit fairer.

      ‘It’s for his own safety.’ He crouched down and gave the puppy’s head a scrub. Izzy was vaguely mollified when Bonzer gave him a big sloppy lick on the face and Whiffy laughed.

      ‘Breed?’

      ‘Erm … designer dog?’ Or mutt. All in the spin, she supposed.

      ‘The rescue charity said he’s a mishmash of Lab, collie and some sort of enormous mystery beast. I’m guessing that’s why his paws are so huge. Pyrenean mountain dog?’

      They all studiously examined Bonzer. His white eyebrows quirking left, then right, then left again. ‘The woman said he was the product of a “secret liaison”.’

      Freya’s eyes shot to her as if she’d been giving them some code about Luna. Izzy herself was the product of a secret liaison, so … no judgement in this camp.

      ‘When did you move back again?’ Freya asked. ‘Long enough to get a puppy, obviously.’

      ‘Monday.’ Izzy held up her hands. ‘I know. We’re doing this all a bit ass-backwards, but …’ She shrugged. ‘I thought Bonzer might help us both settle in once we get to the cottage.’

      ‘Cottage?’ Freya’s eyebrow shot up.

      She’d forgotten Freya’s insatiable appetite for details.

       Cool your jets. It’s been ten years. Plenty of water under the bridge. More water to come.

      ‘The one I inherited. It’s in Wales. Welsh Wales.’ She swiped the air between them. ‘I’ll fill you in on everything later. Right now I just wanna make sure this little guy is going to be all right.’

      Bonzer nestled his head into Whiffy’s hand then looked up at him, a picture of doe-eyed innocence. Everyone went, ‘awwww’, then threw guilty looks at each other seeing as they were meant to be saying goodbye.

      Whiffy grinned at Izzy. ‘Don’t you worry. His accommodation will be posher than what you lot are in.’

      Charlotte bristled.

      Whiffy held up his hands. ‘Not like that.’ He laughed. ‘A kennel’s a kennel. It’s just that it’s up at the main house.’

      ‘You mean the earl and countess are in residence?’ Charlotte shook her hair a bit to make it look as if she didn’t really care, but Charlotte, Izzy now remembered, had never been particularly good at pretending.