The peace and quiet of the countryside in summertime was somewhat overshadowed by the arrival of Hazy Memory later that week.
Tom knew that they were the first band that Sam had ever managed and had been apparently named after a wild weekend in the early seventies which none of them could remember.
Annie told him that they had all met the band at Christmas. ‘They’re lovely,’ she said. ‘Not at all what you would think.’
But when Tom watched them clamber out of a silver Bentley, he realised that the band looked exactly as he had thought. Five leather-clad rockers with long hair and wrinkles that showed a wild social life.
The driver was Mick, the infamous womaniser and scratchy-voiced lead singer.
‘What happened to your old jag?’ asked Sam, walking across the driveway to shake his hand.
‘Broke down on the Kings Road,’ said Mick. ‘Now gone to the big scrapheap in the sky. But this is the replacement.’
‘Nice,’ said Sam. ‘But couldn’t you get anything more reliable? You know, perhaps something built in this century?’
Mick scoffed. ‘Leave off. It’s a classic. Besides, are you kidding? I could barely afford this with our royalties.’
Hazy Memory had the dubious honour of recording the most annoying Christmas single of all time. They all hated their one big hit song but knew it was the only way to make a living.
As they were enthusiastically shaking each other’s hands, Tom glanced over to see Eleanor making her way across to greet them. She was wearing a vest top and denim shorts. Nothing special but his insides still lurched as the lust unexpectedly slammed into him. He had thought of little else since their so-called fake kiss by the river. For him it had been anything but. And then there was the gentle, kind Eleanor who had come with him to his gran’s flat. He was falling for her in a big way.
So he watched in irritation as Mick turned his gleaming eyes towards her.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he said. ‘And what might your name be?’ He was a well-known ladies’ man and Tom desperately didn’t need him turning his attention towards Eleanor.
‘This is my friend Eleanor,’ Annie told him.
‘Gotta love that song,’ said Mick, breaking into a tune. ‘Elenore, gee I think you’re swell,’ he sang.
The rest of the band joined in for the chorus and Tom was surprised that they actually had decent singing voices, although that didn’t make him feel any easier about how he was leering at Eleanor
When they stopped singing, Annie asked, ‘So how are you Mick?’
‘Wondering how you ended up with my manager as always, beautiful,’ he told her.
Tom found himself relaxing somewhat. It appeared that Mick flirted with absolutely everybody.
‘Leave off,’ said Annie, blushing.
‘I agree,’ said Sam, putting an arm around his fiancée’s shoulders. ‘Definitely leave well alone.’
‘Anyway, I thought your new girlfriend was joining us this weekend,’ said Annie, looking around.
‘Oh. Yeah,’ said Mick, apparently having temporarily forgotten her. ‘Raquel’s coming here tomorrow if that’s okay?’
‘Sure,’ said Annie, with a shrug. ‘All the guest bedrooms are more or less finished.’
‘Are you sure you can’t put this lot up in the barn instead? With all the other animals?’ drawled Sam.
‘That’s no way to talk about our guests,’ said Arthur, heading across to join them.
‘Hello, Your Lordship,’ said Mick, shaking Arthur’s hand. ‘Good to see you back on your feet.’
‘Thank you, Mick. Lovely to have the pleasure of your company once more.’
‘Hello, gorgeous!’ said Mick, the lead singer, heading across the gravel. ‘Oh, and you too, Alex!’
‘Thank you!’ called Alex who had also just arrived.
Mick embraced Alex. Sam had confided in Tom that they had built up a friendship based on mutual respect, with a side-line in insults.
Alex stepped away and scrutinised Mick. ‘Whoever said you could pull off matching leather trousers and a jacket was obviously blind.’
‘It works well with the ladies,’ said Mick, with a twinkle in his eye.
That was an understatement, thought Tom, who knew of Mick’s reputation. He might have been tall and gangly, but his youthful blue eyes held a permanent glint, that he used to the best effect with the many ladies that he had wooed over the years, including his three ex-wives. With his long, dark hair, he had all the hallmarks of a classic rock star, albeit one now enjoying middle age.
‘Mind you,’ carried on Alex. ‘I suppose all that squeaking disguises the sound of your arthritic hips. You know, one day I will get you lot out of that leather.’
Mick laughed. ‘Ha! You wish, darling. I’m way out of your league.’
Alex hung back with Tom as they all began to head indoors.
‘It’s nice the way people still admire ancient relics,’ said Alex, shooting a grin and wink at Tom.
Sam gave him a nudge. ‘It’s so good to have you all here.’
Tom enjoyed the rowdy but fun evening spent wining and dining on the patio in the late sunshine.
‘Any advice for a newcomer like Tom here,’ said Sam.
‘Don’t get divorced, mate,’ said Mick with a sigh. ‘My ex-wives have cleaned me out.’
‘I was thinking more in the career stakes,’ said Sam, rolling his eyes.
‘What career?’ said Howard the drummer, helping himself to another piece of cake.
Sam frowned. ‘What’s up with you all? You’ve all been miserable since you arrived. Isn’t all this enough for you?’ He waved his hand around as they sat on the patio under the pergola.
‘It’s lovely but we’re just a bit fed up,’ said Mick. ‘Feeling the need to shake things up before we get too old, you know?’
‘What did you have in mind?’ asked Sam, looking interested.
‘You know, I got that message to ask if I wanted to go into the jungle,’ said Mick. ‘That I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here thing.’
‘What happened?’ asked Annie.
‘I realised that I couldn’t do without the three biggest things in my life. Coffee, curry and sex.’ He shot Eleanor a cheeky grin.
Tom gripped his glass a little harder. Which was ridiculous, he told himself. Mick had almost thirty years on him. Eleanor wouldn’t be interested in someone as old as that.
‘Why are you wearing leather trousers in this heat?’ asked Alex. ‘You must be all sweaty.’
‘Weight loss?’ said Ron, with a grin.
‘It’s what our fans expect,’ said Mick, leering at Eleanor’s legs in her shorts.
‘You should do a cover of “Suit and Tie”,’ said Alex.
‘Justin Timberlake?’ Mike rolled his eyes. ‘We could own his skinny arse.’
Alex grinned. ‘Can you sing like him?’
‘Better, love. And we’re more handsome too.’ He grinned before stretching out on his chair. ‘This is the life, eh? Nice digs in the summer to retreat to.’
‘Are you coming to our summer fete?’ asked Rose.
‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart,’ replied Mick before looking at Annie. ‘What fete are we talking about?’
‘Willow Tree Hall has one every year,’ she told him. ‘On bank holiday Monday. We’re hosting the whole thing here.’
‘Excellent. Can’t wait.’
Annie smiled, but Tom could see that she was inwardly grimacing. She wasn’t sure Hazy Memory, with their leather outfits and long hair, were quite going to fit in with her dream of bunting and home-made cakes.
He, on the other hand, was finding himself enjoying their company.
As long as they kept their hands to themselves and well away from Eleanor, of course.