The Beekeeper's Daughter by Santa Montefiore Page A

her hand slipped into the pocket on the back of his jeans. Ben put his arm around Suzie’s waist and asked her how the party was going. Trixie sensed he’d kiss her friend tonight. The idea of travelling around America in their tour bus seemed more real than ever.
    They reached Captain Jack’s, where the boys started to set up their equipment on the terrace. The girls rushed off to bring them drinks. When they returned, the band was surrounded by miniskirted girls with heaving breasts and starry eyes. They were like bees around a honeypot, Trixie thought resentfully. ‘Beers coming through,’ she shouted, pushing past them to where George was arranging his drums while Jasper and Ben were soaking up compliments like a pair of happy sponges.
    Among the miniskirts was Lucy Durlacher. She had pulled her ash-blonde hair into a ponytail and applied blue eyeshadow. Suzie seized the moment and Lucy’s arm. ‘Lucy, come over here. Have you seen these drums? They’re incredible. Go on, touch one.’ Lucy didn’t need further encouragement. She stepped forward and put her hand out. George settled his eyes on her. She wasn’t beautiful, but she had the appeal of forbidden fruit. When she looked at him her cheeks blushed the colour of cranberries. ‘Hi, Lucy,’ he said, and she returned his smile with a shy grin.
    Suzie turned to Trixie and whispered, ‘Well, that wasn’t difficult!’
    Trixie watched Lucy and George, but only for a moment. She was more concerned about keeping the other girls away from Jasper. He was much too polite to do it for himself.
    It wasn’t long before Joe Hornby appeared. He strode through the crowd in a flowery shirt and bright-red shorts, puffing exuberantly on a cigar, and took centre stage on the terrace. ‘Right, boys, are you ready to play?’ he shouted, pleased with the turnout. ‘Let’s see what the good people of Tekanasset make of you!’ He waved his cigar, and somehow the voices hushed around the fire and people turned to listen.
    ‘Ladies and gentleman, good folk of Tekanasset, may I introduce Big Black Rats. You haven’t heard of them yet, but soon their names will be as celebrated as their famous countrymen, the Rolling Stones and the Beatles. A fine heritage, indeed. But they’re going to go even further. Mark my words, you heard it here first. But enough talk, you can decide for yourselves. Jasper, Ben and George, let’s rock!’
    The boys began to play. The amplifiers weren’t sufficient to carry the sound over the beach, and only those standing close got to hear them adequately. Those at the back gave up after a few minutes and resumed their conversations, while the grown-ups frowned at the unfamiliar sound of modern music. But the young gathered round and soon they were jumping wildly on the sand, arms in the air, bronzed bodies moving to the beat as if possessed.
    ‘So this is what all the excitement is about!’ said Evelyn, who had only come to the party to keep an eye on her daughter. She looked very out of place in yellow slacks, a matching yellow twinset and pearls.
    ‘I rather like it,’ said Belle. ‘The boy’s got a good voice.’
    Evelyn screwed up her little nose. ‘It’s good, but not excellent. I think to make it in that industry, you have to be excellent.’
    ‘I disagree, Evelyn. To make it in that industry you just have to be appealing,’ Belle argued.
    Bill wandered over with a beer, immaculate in blue trousers and pink shirt, his blond hair swept off his face like a schoolboy spruced up by his mother. He was in good spirits, having played tennis all afternoon and only conceded a set. ‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard worse.’
    ‘I wonder whether Trixie’s here, or whether Grace had the good sense to ground her,’ Evelyn said, searching the throng of dancing bodies for the girl.
    ‘I meant to tell you I bumped into Freddie this morning, Evelyn,’ said Bill.
    ‘What did he say?’ she asked, far too curious to bother reproaching him