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Rumer

Phil Sutcliffe, Q, June 2012

"TEA ANYONE?" says Rumer from the doorway of her beach hut. "Plenty of sandwiches left." Dazed by the mad March sun, her audience of biz colleagues and the Whitstable friends she's staying with murmur indeterminate responses while remaining recumbent on the Kent resort's copious crunchy pebbles.

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