Free The Summer Without You by Karen Swan

Humper,’ was emblazoned in navy lettering
along the sides.
    ‘Holy shit! What happened to you?’ he laughed, as she trudged over, hands clamped to the camera, her clothes clinging to her. ‘I leave you alone for ten minutes . .
.’
    ‘Don’t ask,’ Ro muttered, wiping the bitter tears away with the back of her hand as he leaned over to open the door, and she slid in beside him. ‘It’s a long
story.’

Chapter Five
    ‘So whaddya think?’ Hump asked, his eyes resting on her as Ro turned another circle on the spot, her eyes recording every last detail of the studio. ‘You
like?’
    ‘Like? I love!’ she gasped, clasping her hands above her heart. ‘I never dreamed it would be so . . . so adorable!’
    ‘Amagansett is pretty cute, period, but the Square is totally prime. I can’t tell you how lucky I was to get this for a summer let. Right place, right time. Right housemate,’
he added, acknowledging that this opportunity was only theirs because they were sharing the costs together. Ro was just about able to stretch to it after her colossal rent by dipping into what was
supposed to be the contingency fund for the cottage back home and crossing her fingers, hoping that the boiler didn’t break down.
    Ro ran to the window and stared out again at the little green. It was set back from the road – the Montauk Highway, which she’d already travelled on and which was the official in-out
to the Hamptons – and bordered on three sides by low-lying white clapboarded units. Neat paths connected them all, criss-crossing the spotless grass and mature trees, and there was a tiny
bandstand in the middle. Ro and Hump had one of the smallest units, with a smart beach store on their right and a yoga studio on their left as you faced them. Just beyond it was an ice-cream
parlour with low-slung shell-backed wooden Adirondack chairs – ubiquitous out here, it seemed – outside, and further round, a vinyl record store and a spa, and finally, opposite, an
interiors boutique.
    Ro wrapped her arms around herself happily. It was a shopping destination within a proper community. How could her business do anything
but
thrive here? There was plenty of free parking
on the road and round the back, and the demographic of the users – if the other retailers were anything to go by – would be AB1s, her target customer.
    Hump was opening up one of the many boxes stacked inside the studio. ‘Tada!’ he sang, pulling out a yellow vinyl banner inscribed with ‘The Hamptons Humper’ in navy
lettering. She laughed again at the name. Very few people could get away with something quite so outré, but Hump had both semantics and a guileless, winning smile on his side.
    ‘So talk me through this,’ she said, walking back across the room and sitting on one of the boxes, watching as he lovingly unfurled the banner and began threading laces through the
eyelets. ‘What’s so entrepreneurial about being a taxi driver?’
    ‘The fact that I’m running for free, for starters.’ He pointed to the edge of the banner near to her foot. ‘Step on that corner, will you, to stop it rolling.’
    Ro did as she was told. ‘I know you’re being deliberately oblique. How can a taxi service be free?’
    He sat back on his heels and looked up at her. ‘As of tomorrow – Memorial Day weekend and the official start of the Hamptons season – only residents can get permits to park at
the beach parking lots. Everyone else either has to walk several miles with all their beach stuff or get a mortgage to pay for cabs.’
    ‘It can’t be that bad, surely,’ Ro scoffed.
    ‘How’s sixty dollars to Montauk sound to you?’
    ‘From
here
, or do you mean New York?’
    ‘Exactly. People have had enough. So this is my idea – I do runs from the Indian Wells, Wiborg, Egypt and Main beaches to and from Main Street every ten minutes. All free.’
    ‘But where’s the profit? For goodness’ sake, where’s the income?’
    ‘Advertising.