that his hair had been completely brown the last time she had seen him.
She said, "I phoned the verderers' office. They said you'd be here."
He wiped his forehead on his arm, replaced the cap, and tugged it down. "Did you, now?
What's up?" He glanced over his shoulder as the pony within the horse trailer clomped restlessly and bumped against its side. The trailer shuddered. Robbie said, "Hey now," and he made a clucking sound. "You know you can't stay here at the Queen's Head, mate. Settle. Settle."
"Jemima," Meredith said. "It's her birthday, Robbie."
"So it is. Which makes it yours as well. Which means you're twenty-six years old and that means I'm ...Blimey, I'm forty-one. You'd think by now I would've found a lass willing to marry this heap of manhood, eh?"
"No one's snapped you up?" Meredith said. "The women of Hampshire are half mad then, Rob."
He smiled. "You?"
"Oh, I'm full mad. I've had my one man, thank you very much. Not about to repeat the experience."
He chuckled. "Damn, then, Merry. You've no idea how often I've heard that said. So why're you looking for me since it's not to offer your hand in marriage?"
"It's Jemima. Robbie, I went to the Cupcake Queen and saw it was closed. Then I talked to Lexie Streener and then I went to their place - Gordon and Jemima's - and there's this woman Gina Dickens there. She's not exactly living there or anything but she's ...I s'pose you'd call it established. And she didn't know the first thing about Jemima."
"You haven't heard from her, then?"
"From Jemima? No." Meredith hesitated. She felt dead awkward. She looked at him earnestly, trying to read him. "Well, she must have told you ..."
"'Bout what happened 'tween the two of you?" he asked. "Oh, aye. She told me you had a falling out some time back. Didn't think it was permanent, though."
"Well, I had to tell her I had doubts about Gordon. Aren't friends meant to do that?"
"I'd say they are."
"But all she'd say in return is, „Robbie doesn't have doubts about him, so why do you?'"
"Said that, did she?"
"Did you have doubts? Like me? Did you?"
"Oh, that I did. Something about the bloke. I didn't dislike him 'xactly, but if she was going to have a partner, I would've liked it to be someone I knew through and through. I didn't know Gordon Jossie like that. But as things turned out, I needn't have worried - same applies to you - because Jemima found out whatever she needed to find out when she hooked up with him and she was clever enough to end it when it needed to be ended."
"What's that mean, exactly?" Meredith shifted. She was absolutely baking in the heat. At this point she felt as if her entire body were melting, like her poor chocolate cake in the car.
"Look, can we get out of the sun?" she asked. "Can we get a drink? Have you the time? We need to talk. I think ...There's something not quite right."
Robbie gave a look to the pony and then a look to Meredith. He nodded and said, "Not the pub, though," and he led them across the car park to a little arcade of shops, one of which offered sandwiches and drinks. They took theirs to a sweet chestnut that spread its leafy branches on the edge of the car park, where a bench faced a lawn opening out in the shape of a fan.
A smattering of tourists were taking photos of ponies that grazed with their foals nearby.
The foals were especially appealing, but they were also skittish, which made approaching them and their dams more dangerous than usual. Robbie watched the action. "One damn well wonders," he said darkly. "That bloke over there? He's likely to be bit. And then he'll want the pony put down or he'll want to sue God knows who. Not that the wanting is going to get him anywhere. Still, I always think there's some kinds need to be permanently removed from the gene pool."
"Do you?"
He coloured slightly at the question, then he looked at her. "S'pose not," he said. And then, "She's gone to London, Merry. She phoned me up one day, somewhere near the end of October this was, and she announced she was going to London. I thought she meant for the day, for supplies or something for the shop. But she says, „No, no, it's not the shop. I need time to think,' she says. „Gordon's talking