22 The height of summer

It’s the height of summer: hotter than an arsonists' convention. Dogs, especially the long-haired breeds, go a little crazy in the sun. They crawl into spaces that are far too small for them, in a vain attempt to escape the heat. They dig holes in flower beds, and roll in dirt, then collapse with the effort into a panting heap. Cats saunter by, in a carefree manner, aware that the dogs of Whimsey have put all cat-chasing activities on hold for the duration of this heatwave.

The ice-cream man stops his van outside the pub, and activates the chime: it's Greensleeves, blasted out at migraine-inducing volume. Bob the postman has persuaded his kids that the ice-cream man only plays his chime when he’s run out of ice cream. Though it’s saving him money now - money he can spend on beer instead - the deception won’t last for ever. The ice-cream man is doing good business, unlike the fish & chip shop in town. Most of the year the shop does a roaring trade, but no one wants fish & chips on a day like this. That smell isn’t appetising, it’s rancid. Suddenly, working in the chip shop looks like the worst job in the world, like doing a shift down in Dante’s inferno. The woman in the shop is suffering - her hair lacquered to her forehead, skin glazed by the searing heat. Beads of sweat drip into the hot fat. You make a mental note to eat elsewhere. A sandwich will do. Or just a drink. It’s too hot to eat.

Torper is infectious on a scorching day like this. It looks like a lot of Whimsey folk have decided to postpone their chores until the sun has gone down. In the beer garden of the Farrier’s Arms, they loll beneath the beach umbrellas, nursing a pint or two through a sultry afternoon of indolence and forgetfullness. Every few minutes there’s a scream from the car park, as another motorist is reminded what happens when his car has been standing in the sun all day, and he gets in wearing just a pair of shorts. Bare flesh and hot leatherette are welded inextricably together: it makes your eyes water just thinking about it.