The Summer We All Ran Away Read Online Free Page A

and laughed softly.
    â€œI can’t believe it! You and Jack Laker.”
    â€œI know, I know! I have to keep reminding myself it’s true!”
    â€œAnd this house! I know it’s not finished, but you can see the potential, it’s beautiful.”
    â€œBit of a step-up from the Cloisters.” Evie’s hand caressed the butter-soft white leather.
    â€œIt’s not just about the house, though, is it?” said Diane. “I mean you do love him, don’t you?” Evie’s gaze was liquid and luminous. “Okay, sorry. It’s just, you know.”
    â€œNot an easy life?” suggested Evie.
    â€œThe stories you hear, the stuff in the papers - ”
    â€œI’ve already seen him at his worst,” said Evie, serene. “What’s he going to do that’s more terrible than that? Look, you don’t need to worry,” she went on, seeing Diane’s expression. “It won’t be easy, but so what? I love him and I’m happy. What else matters?”
    â€œYou look happy,” Diane admitted. “God, you even look like you belong. I feel like a complete freak! Literally everyone else here is famous. Everyone! I can see them looking at me and trying to work out who I am. How did you know who to invite?”
    â€œOh, I asked his manager. He said it was a good idea. Well, actually first of all he said he didn’t care if Jack was rotting away in a ditch. But I told him there was a new album, and
then
he said it was a good idea.”
    â€œThat’s hobnobbing,” said Diane. “My best friend is hobnobbing with music industry moguls. Crazy.” She picked up Evie’s left hand and played idly with her ring finger. “Any chance of - ”
    Evie laughed. “It’s still early days.”
    â€œI bet he’s a handful to live with.”
    â€œNo, actually he’s great. Anyway, he’s working a lot of the time.”
    Diane stroked the heavy brown silk of Evie’s hair. “And is he as wild in bed as they say? Have you done it in every room in the house yet?”
    â€œNot quite yet,” she said briskly. “Fancy another drink?”
    â€œAnyway,” said Mike, spilling his beer as he put it down. “Oh, shit - ” He blinked at the pool spreading across the terracotta.
    â€œIsn’t beer supposed to be good for terracotta?” Sheila snatched the roach from Sid, took a hit, passed it to Mike. “Go on, I want to hear this.”
    â€œJust a minute.” Mike inhaled greedily. “God, that’s so great. Whose is it?”
    â€œJane’s,” said Sid. “Tell us your story.”
    â€œIt’s not really a story,” he said. “More like an observation.”
    â€œAlright then,” said Sid patiently, “tell us your observation.”
    â€œDo you tell an observation? I think you make observations. Don’t you make observations?”
    â€œSpeak!” Jane kicked Mike’s ankle.
    â€œOw! Alright, I’m speaking.” He passed the roach to Sheila. “So, it was at the gig in Camden, on that tour he did.”
    â€œWhich tour?”
    â€œThe
tour.”
    â€œYou’re saying it like he only toured once. He did loads before the
Violet Hour
tour, he wasn’t just famous the way he was when he - ”
    â€œDo you not think the very fact you instantly know what I mean when I say
the
tour tells you it was, in fact, The Tour? Do you want to hear this story or not?”
    â€œYou said it was an observation,” said Sheila.
    â€œI might actually die of boredom before we get to the end of this,” Sid announced.
    â€œI thought I’d go backstage,” said Mike, very loudly. “See if he’d got five minutes to speak to a mate. And my God, it was like - ” he shook his head in disbelief.
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œLike nothing you ever saw,” he said. “Not enoughsecurity, too many fans, they