Free A Walk in the Park by Jill Mansell Page B

wallet. A great wad of notes was produced instead. Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of so much cash. Then again, with so many people around him, Vampire Teeth was unlikely to get mugged.
    â€œYou don’t have a clue who I am, do you?”
    â€œNo, I don’t. Sorry. I’m afraid that’s, um, twelve hundred pounds in total. Are you absolutely sure that’s OK?”
    â€œI’m ahbsolutely shore.” Vampire Teeth mimicked his oh-so-English accent. “You know something, man? I like you.” He watched as Harry began parceling the shirts up with brown paper and string. “You ever hear of a hip-hop artist called EnjaySeven?”
    â€œI haven’t. I’m sorry. Is that you? Art isn’t really my forte,” said Harry. “I did see the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel a few years back…”
    â€œMichelangelo had some talent, but I’m not talkin’ about that kind of artist. Hey, Ronnie, volume.” Vampire Teeth made the turn-it-up signal to one of the massive men lurking in the doorway, who in turn gestured to whoever was still in the first car. Some form of noise that until now Harry had been only vaguely aware of in the background was cranked up to shudder level and blasted across the yard: thud thud THUD-CRASH, thud thud CRASH.
    Good heavens.
    â€œThat’s you?”
    â€œYeah, man. That’s me.”
    â€œIt’s very… loud.” Harry felt sorry for the pigeons on the roof. What a racket.
    â€œOK, Ron.” The signal was made to reduce the volume. “So tell me what kinda music you listen to.”
    â€œNot your kind, no offense. I enjoy Michael Bublé. Um, do you want to take the shirt off now?”
    â€œNo, I’ll wear it. Flying ducks.” The heavy gold watch flashed on his wrist as he patted the breast pocket once more. “Know something? You’re a pretty cool guy.”
    â€œThat’s not true. I’m the very opposite of cool. Even I know that,” said Harry.
    â€œBut I like you for it. You’re comfortable with being yourself.” It was the turn of the gold incisors to glint in the sunlight streaming through the dusty window. “You happy to appear on my show, man?”
    â€œWhat show?”
    â€œ My show. All about me. These two aren’t filming us for the good of their health, ya know. You’ll be on MTV. You cool with that?”
    All this talk of cool. Harry thought back over the last few minutes and decided he hadn’t said or done anything he regretted. “Fine. I imagine I’ll be portrayed as the comedy uptight Englishman.”
    â€œThere is that small possibility.” The grin broadened. “But you never know, you might turn out to be one of those comedy uptight Englishmen people like to see.”
    Hmm, or throw rocks at. Oh well. Harry handed over the neatly tied parcels of shirts and shook the man’s hand, as he always did with his customers.
    â€œIt’s been a pleasure to meet you, Mr… er… And I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in the Lake District.”
    â€œYo, you too, man. And you gotta check out my website some time, listen to my music, yeah? You might decide it’s not so bad after all.”
    â€œAbsolutely.” Harry nodded. “I’ll do that.”
    Another flash of the vampiric teeth. “Is that the truth or are you just being polite?”
    â€œI’m just being polite,” said Harry.
    The camcorders were switched off, the shirts thrown into the trunk of the Maybach. Everyone piled back into the cars. Morag, having finished her tea and brought the empty “World’s Best Nan!” mug over to be washed in the sink, visibly flinched as the music began booming out once more.
    She joined Harry in the office doorway. “Everything OK, pet? Tourists, is it?”
    He nodded. “Americans.”
    â€œHorrible noise.”
    â€œHe’s a musician. That’s him