'A faint breeze eddied the curtains into the room, and his hope became a certainty, for there was no rustle of rain against the glass. He jumped out of bed, drew aside the curtains, and slowly smiled. He could not remember ever having seen such a perfect morning for the start. Last year there had been a gusty, uncertain wind and heavy, scudding clouds, but this morning it was beautifully calm; a thin layer of mist lay over the lawn and the sky was clear blue. The early morning sun, shining between the houses, lit up the leaves of the apple tree, and gave them a delicate sheen.' This is at the beginning of Chapter 4 of The Fortnight in September, one of our quiet bestsellers and the perfect book to read in – September.