Out of the Blue by Isabel Wolff

Author:Isabel Wolff
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780007392193
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2012-05-21T23:00:00+00:00

July

Highs and lows. That’s what it’s about. The weather, I mean. And at the moment we’re on a high. The temperature’s rising and the skies are deep blue, without even a wisp of cloud. At night the sky glows crimson; the barometer is fixed on fair. The little woman has emerged from my weather house, and the seaweed on my desk is bone dry. In short, it’s hot. All the signs, technical and natural, point to that one simple fact. It’s hot. It’s very hot. And it’s getting hotter by the day.

‘Phew,’ said Jos. He was standing in my bath, in a T-shirt and shorts, making pencil marks on the walls. He paused, then drew his hand across his brow. ‘It’s a bit on the warm side, what?’

‘Mmm,’ I said dreamily, ‘it is.’ Jos’s right arm swung back and forth like a metronome as he sketched the curving fronds of a palm. A few deft strokes and a shoreline appeared, and then, in the foreground, a shell.

‘Where is it?’ I asked.

‘Mystery location,’ he replied, tapping the side of his nose.

‘Go on, please tell me,’ I said.

‘All right, it’s Parrot Cay on the Turks and Caicos. It’s my favourite place in the world. And when this mural’s finished, Faith, I’m going to go there with you.’

‘When will that be?’ I smiled.

‘Around Christmas time, I’d say. Christ, it’s hot,’ he sighed as he sketched a solitary bird into the sky. ‘I guess this is what’s known as a warm front.’

‘Nope. It’s an anti-cyclone.’

‘A what?’

‘An area of high pressure, that’s all. Anti-cyclones create calm, dry weather, unlike depressions which bring wind and rain. And anti-cyclones are stable,’ I explained. ‘They can sit in the same place for days.’

‘Which presumably means this is going to last.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it is. In fact it’s shaping up to be a serious heatwave, which makes for boring weather reports. “Good morning everyone,” I say. “And it’s going to be another very hot and sunny day, so put a hat on the baby, keep the dog inside, and slap on that factor fifteen!” I find fine weather dull,’ I added ruefully, ‘because there’s not really much I can say.’

‘Well, fine weather’s fine by me,’ said Jos as he clambered out of the bath. ‘The hotter the better, I say. Look at that sky!’ he added, glancing out of the window. ‘It’s like a Hockney or an Yves Klein. Why don’t we go down to the coast?’ he suggested as he leaned back and squinted at his work. ‘We could take the kids,’ he said.

‘And Graham.’

‘Yes,’ he sighed as he wiped the back of his neck. ‘But only if he’s nice to me.’

‘Do you hear that, darling?’ I said to Graham, who was lying doggo by the door. ‘If you’re nice to Jos and promise not to bite him, he’ll take you to the seaside for the day.’ Graham raised a cynical eyebrow, then closed his eyes with a disgruntled sigh.

‘Why don’t we go next weekend?’ said Jos. ‘We could go down to Hastings or Rye.

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