Chapter Seven
Pippa returned to the house, her mind caught on Elaine’s story of Gil’s past and her own connection to Hartfell. Two families entwined, reaching back to a pair of young boys who’d been best mates until one of them had died, and Gil had lost his parents. And Ivy, whoever she was, whom Violet believed was connected to Pippa in some way. She’d never delved into her family’s past before; their present had kept her occupied enough until now.
She couldn’t unravel the reason Jonny had stepped in and bought the farm when Gil had wanted it for himself. Her dad already owned a London apartment, the holiday home in Majorca they all still used, and a rambling cottage on the Norfolk coast where he escaped alone to write music. That was his place, one where he didn’t like to be interrupted and he shared it with her brother Raf, whom Pippa knew also required solitude to write songs he refused to reveal to the world.
She knew Jonny was toying with buying a place in Australia as he was coming to love it there so much, but surely things weren’t so uncertain that he’d have to sell Home Farm to fund it. As she opened the back door into the kitchen, she decided she’d better find out. Raf would know. Of all of them, he spent the most time with their dad.
Whilst the band were on a break from the tour, Raf was supposed to be summering on a Scandinavian island with his girlfriend Lina, a stunning Swedish journalist. He and Lina had been very loved up in the beginning, but Pippa knew from experience that it might not last. Raf loathed the idea of permanent commitment and she longed for him to find a true home for his sensitive soul, one he was careful to keep hidden. Of all her siblings, she was closest to him, but even their lives had become more distant and their catch-ups rarer.
Her phone was on the kitchen worktop, and she picked it up, opening the email application. It failed to refresh, and she felt another glimmer of sympathy for Harriet, wishing she’d thought to take the phone with her when she’d gone to see Elaine. The kitchen felt different now Pippa knew exactly whose home it had once been, and judging by the state of the cupboards and the ancient range, she didn’t imagine it had changed since Gil’s grandmother’s days.
Was she really going to insist that he move out now she knew something of his history here? Was she even legally entitled to, if he changed his mind and decided to stay? Unlikely, if he had a formal agreement in place with Jonny. Pippa was hazy on the rights of sitting tenants, but she was pretty sure they couldn’t be evicted without notice. She was still trying to decide whether he’d be more inclined to leave if she was really nice or utterly foul to him when Harriet appeared, phone in hand.
‘What’s for lunch?’ She glanced up momentarily from the screen. ‘Can I borrow your hairdryer please? Mine’s still at Isla’s, I forgot to bring it back with me.’
‘Of course, it’s in my case. Lunch will be soup and fresh bread I bought in the village. The shop is lovely, Harriet, you should pop down and have a look.’ Pippa was clutching at straws with that one. Used to London markets and the odd boutique when she wanted something special, Harriet wouldn’t be impressed with Violet’s old-fashioned treasure trove.
‘Mmm. Where’s Gil?’
‘I presume still at work, somebody called to ask him to have a look at a nanny. I think that’s a goat.’ Pippa considered her next words carefully, hoping to find an opportunity to talk on neutral ground. ‘What would you like to do this afternoon?’ Probably best to see if Harriet had any suggestions rather than making her own right now.
‘Dunno.’
‘Right.’ All that money on a nice school and Harriet still didn’t speak in sentences. Jonny had paid for it and that was another bone of contention between them. Pippa didn’t think she’d ever stop missing her; the house always felt so much less of a home without Harriet’s presence in it.
‘I thought I’d go for a walk and explore. It is very pretty, from what I’ve seen so far. Would you like to come with me?’
‘Since when did you come over all rural?’ Considering the lack of Wi-Fi, Harriet seemed to spend just as much time staring at her phone.
‘I don’t think I have come over “all rural”.’ Pippa decided that Harriet could probably teach Dorothy a thing or two about disdain. And she’d speak to her daughter another time about her attitude; there were only so many battles she could have on the go. ‘You know I enjoy my running and I’d like to find a nice route while we’re here.’
‘S’bad for you,’ Harriet muttered. ‘You’ll knacker your joints and by the time you’re fifty you’ll barely be able to walk. It’s not that long off, either. You’re closer to sixty than you are to twenty now.’
‘Thank you for that, Harriet. I’m hardly a geriatric just because I’m about to turn forty. And technically I’m still closer to twenty, at least until my birthday.’ Pippa wasn’t used to the idea of her fifth decade yet, but it was a huge relief, whatever Harriet thought of the state of her joints. Her mum had died at thirty-four and it still took Pippa’s breath away to remember how young her three children had been too.
She hoped Harriet hadn’t noticed the occasional creak in her knees. Unlikely, seeing as her daughter was usually plugged into earbuds. Occasionally, Harriet would remove one and stare at Pippa when she spoke as though she’d never clapped eyes on her own mother before.
‘I’m going for a shower.’
‘Okay. Lunch won’t be long.’
A bit later Pippa poured the soup into a pan and only realised that the two plates on the range were either for boiling or simmering when she picked the wrong one and left it to warm up. The soup nearly exploded shortly after, splattering some on the tiles. She cleaned up the mess and divided what was left into two bowls and buttered some bread. She picked up her phone to text Harriet and changed her mind, instead going into the hall and shouting up the stairs that lunch was ready. That suit of armour was going too, and soon. She would need an awfully large skip to make this house look even halfway appealing to buyers, and shook away guilty thoughts of Gil’s grandmother.
Harriet returned, looking fresh and lovely after her shower, and Pippa just wanted to slide her arms around her daughter and hold her close. But any such attempt was bound to be rebuffed, so whilst they ate she settled for making general conversation, and at least the meal put Harriet in a better mood.
Pippa excused her the washing up and carried the dishes to the sink. Gil’s mug from this morning was still there and she decided that two could play the ‘what’s mine is mine’ game, conveniently forgetting that everything here probably was his. A few minutes later the door behind Harriet at the table flew open and Gil marched in with Lola.
Pippa flushed. How should she greet someone she was evicting from their own home? No, not his home, not any longer, she reminded herself. The farm belonged to Jonny and had done for a while. She was doing nothing wrong, and hopefully nothing illegal either, seeing as Gil was leaving of his own accord.
‘Hi Gil.’ Harriet had already perked up as Lola settled at her feet for a pat, and Pippa disliked him just a little bit more at Harriet’s easy warmth. ‘Mum said you’ve been treating a sick animal. Did it make it?’
‘Gil was just doing his job, Harriet,’ Pippa said coolly. She’d only mentioned it because Harriet had asked, not to make him out to be some kind of hero in her daughter’s mind. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’
‘I think it will.’ He smiled at Harriet before picking up Lola’s water bowl, carrying it to the sink and making Pippa wonder if he was trying to get in her way on purpose yet again. She’d been drying the dishes and made herself continue as he rinsed and refilled the bowl. She breathed out when he replaced it on the floor, but he was back at the tap again a moment later.
‘What was wrong with it?’
‘Acute pneumonia, which can become fatal in young cows and calves pretty quickly.’ Gil turned around, his back to the sink. ‘We caught this one in time, thanks to the farmer knowing his stock and recognising the symptoms. I’m pretty sure the heifer will make it, with continued treatment.’
‘So, like meds and stuff?’
‘Yeah. Antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Infection can spread quickly if the sick animal isn’t separated from the herd, and it’s vital to reduce their temperature and keep it within normal limits.’
‘Wow, that’s so cool.’ Harriet rarely looked impressed these days and Pippa offered a faint smile in response. She didn’t want to dampen Harriet’s rare show of enthusiasm, even if it was for Gil and his life-saving heroics. Harriet had even put her phone down and Pippa longed for the days when her daughter had wished to converse with her. ‘What’s a heifer?’
‘It’s a young female cow, one who hasn’t had a calf yet, usually under three years of age.’
He picked up the mug he’d left on the worktop earlier, raising a brow as his gaze caught Pippa’s. Warmth stained her cheeks, knowing he’d realised she’d refused to wash his single item on purpose. He refilled it and downed the water in one long gulp.
‘Right, I’ll get my things.’ He banged the mug down onto the worktop.
‘Where are you going to stay?’
‘Harriet, that’s none of our business.’ Pippa was folding the tea towel neatly. ‘Let’s go to our rooms and leave Gil to pack in peace.’
Harriet flashed her a defiant glare before addressing Gil. ‘Are you married? Do you have a family?’
‘That is—’
‘Divorced.’ He interrupted Pippa and bent to pat Lola, who’d wandered over and was giving him an adoring look she felt he didn’t deserve. ‘Two boys, Joel and Luca. Joel works on a vineyard in Adelaide now he’s graduated, and Luca is travelling with friends on summer break from university.’
‘So they don’t live with you?’ Harriet gave Pippa a look which implied she’d also quite like to be grown up and beyond her parents’ reach, thank you very much.
‘They come when they can, but Luca’s studying in Portsmouth and Joel’s a long way off, so…’ Gil shrugged, and Pippa wondered if she’d imagined the suggestion of sadness in his eyes. ‘Luca will be up for a visit over the summer.’
‘So where will he stay, if you’ve had to leave your home?’
‘Harriet, enough!’ Pippa wasn’t often sharp, and Harriet’s lips pressed together. ‘Gil’s family circumstances are private.’
‘Is that right?’ He turned those blue eyes on Pippa, and she breathed in slowly, trying to calm the leap in her pulse. ‘They don’t feel too private right now.’
‘And it is our business, if we’re chucking Gil and his family out of their own home,’ Harriet said coolly. ‘That’s not very you, Mum. You’ve always been all about home.’
Pippa was all about keeping the family together despite their differences and lives that ranged around the world. She’d always found solace in the loss of her mum by being the one left behind, trying somehow to cling to them all, let them know she loved them and was there for them.
‘You can’t just make Gil leave! He’s a tenant, he has rights. This is not his fault. Grandad should never have bought the house and cheated him out of his home!’
Pippa gaped at her, still trying to unravel the previous accusation, her mind stuck on Harriet’s antagonism and what was causing it.
‘I appreciate the thought, Harriet, but we can’t all live here together.’ Gil was impassive in the face of all this emotion and Pippa just wanted to crawl away. ‘And I have a place lined up. I don’t know what your mum’s plans are, but I expect I’d have to move out eventually anyway.’
‘She wants to get back to London as soon as possible.’ Harriet aimed another accusatory glare at Pippa. ‘Back to telling me what to do and how I should live my life.’
Harriet flounced from the kitchen and tried to slam the door, which refused to cooperate and bounced back again, rattling through the tension. Pippa was shocked, ashamed that Gil had witnessed another outburst and seen firsthand Harriet’s horrible new hatred towards her.
She straightened up, clutching her hands together to stop them trembling. ‘I’ll leave you to get your things,’ she told Gil, unable to look him in the eye and face yet more disdain and possibly even amusement at how that scene had played out.
‘Pippa, I…’ He hesitated. ‘Maybe we should…’
Refusing to be drawn by the uncertainty in those few low words or what he might have gone on to say, she left the kitchen, calmly closing the door behind her. The moment she was out of sight the tears began to fall and she ran up to her room and collapsed on the bed. She heard him come upstairs soon after, saying something to Lola she couldn’t quite make out. His bedroom door opened and then closed again. There was nothing she could do whilst he was still in the house, no one who needed or even wanted her right now. She crawled into bed and huddled up, waiting for him to go as she worried about Harriet and how she was going to handle their situation. Some adventure this was turning out to be.
Pippa woke later, groggy from the nap, something she’d never normally succumb to during the day. She sat up, her mind hazily replaying the row with Harriet and another uncomfortable encounter with Gil. The house was silent, and she really hoped he had gone and taken his belongings with him, even though Harriet would blame her for the loss of Lola too. A glance at her phone revealed it was almost four p.m. and she’d been asleep for two hours. She got off the bed and headed for the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later she was back in her room and shivering from a cool shower. Hair dried, she stared into the triple mirror. Barely twenty-four hours since they’d left London and she already felt like a shadow of her own self; tired, even more worried about Harriet, and unsettled by the situation with the house and Gil. And curiosity about Ivy and a past connection to Hartfell seemed to have lodged in her mind as well.
But those were thoughts for another day. For now she needed to think about dinner. She left her room and tapped on Harriet’s door. ‘Hey. Can I come in?’
‘If you must.’ An exaggerated sigh had Pippa holding in her own as she stepped inside and perched on the edge of Harriet’s bed. Close but not too near; Harriet didn’t seem to want her within touching distance these days.
‘I was thinking of making pasta for dinner. I bought some lovely veg at the shop this morning. They even had aubergines, and you love them roasted.’
‘I’m not five, Mum. I don’t need to be reminded about what food I do and don’t like. And I’m not hungry.’
‘Oh?’ Pippa’s heart jolted and her reply was deliberately calm. ‘Usually I can never fill you up. You’re always hungry.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m not likely to be playing netball up here, am I? At least I’ve got summer camp with Isla, and I can get away.’
Pippa waited a beat, twirling a loose thread on the duvet cover. ‘From what?’ she asked lightly, half afraid of the reply.
Harriet raised an arm, flicking a dismissive hand. ‘This place. Homework. No Wi-Fi. And…’
Her voice fell away, and Pippa was braced, waiting for Harriet to add ‘you’ to that sentence. The word didn’t come, and her arm slid down as Pippa slowly expelled the air in her lungs.
‘Harriet, have you been crying?’
‘No!’ Harriet was staring at her phone and flung it away.
‘Are you sure?’ Pippa gulped. ‘Because checking you’re all right is what mums are for. And dads, obviously.’ Harriet’s was a good one, just a bit scatterbrained. The only things predictable about Nick were his love for his daughter and his tendency to take off.
‘Nothing to tell.’ Harriet let long hair fall over her face.
‘Okay. But if you change your mind…’ Pippa paused, letting a few seconds slide by. ‘So tomorrow, we do need to go shopping. And then afterwards, I was thinking about our adventure and what we might like to do. It’s a Sunday, but I’m sure we can find something.’
‘The adventure was a stupid idea, Mum, and I just want to go home.’
‘It won’t be long,’ Pippa assured her. ‘But until we do, I’ve asked Elaine, who’s the receptionist at the vets, if you can use their Wi-Fi in the office.’ Pippa was cheered by the sudden hope on Harriet’s face and readied herself to deliver the less good news. ‘They’re not open every day, just four mornings a week, but it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?’
‘S’pose.’
Pippa wished she had more idea of what it was Harriet did so much of online. Homework, daily video calls with Isla, messaging friends, but it was impossible to keep up. Thank heavens for good old-fashioned family messaging groups. Harriet still responded to those, and it was the easiest way to keep in touch with everyone, scattered as they were. Pippa thought longingly of her home in London and all she loved about the city. She wasn’t going to be distracted by a picture-perfect main street dotted with pretty cottages and rolling meadows outside the windows, or thoughts of a moody vet. Hot was the other word spilling unbidden into her mind.
‘You do know that Gil’s moved into a crappy old caravan?’ Harriet was staring at her phone again.
‘He’s what?’ Pippa laughed, shoving away that thought about Gil. It was an awfully good thing Harriet couldn’t read her mind, although sometimes Pippa wondered. ‘A caravan? Where?’
‘Like, duh! In the yard.’
‘He hasn’t?’ He wouldn’t dare. But Pippa knew he would. He very much would.
Harriet pointed to the window triumphantly. ‘See for yourself if you don’t believe me.’
‘Of course I believe you, it’s just… A caravan?’ Pippa got up and went to the window, and her mouth fell open.
She had little experience of caravans, having never stayed in one, but didn’t doubt that this one, sitting slap bang in the centre of the yard and no doubt visible from every window at the back of the house, was the most miserable and ancient caravan she’d ever seen. It had probably been white, once, but had now faded to a muddy sort of grey with a broad and dulled burgundy strip running around the middle.
The two windows she could see were more rust than metal, one covered by a patterned net curtain, the other a metallic-looking blind, half raised at an angle. One tyre was squashed flat, and the door lay open, revealing a glimpse of dark carpet. Lola was curled in a comfy bed on the cobbles, soaking up the sun. If Gil was trying to invoke yet more sympathy from Harriet, then he was no doubt succeeding, and Pippa took a hurried step back when he appeared at the window behind the blind in case he spotted her staring.
‘This is all your fault, Mum! You made him move out of his own home.’
‘Harriet, I did not.’ Pippa turned away, bright spots of colour rising in her cheeks. ‘Gil offered to go. And the house does actually belong to your grandfather, whether you, me or Gil likes it or not.’
She wondered if squatters in caravans had more rights than sitting tenants. Surely not? Could she legally make him shift the caravan out of the yard? And if so, would he simply move back into the house, if only to irritate her? Perhaps she could have the caravan towed away but she really didn’t have the heart for such underhand tactics. If they hadn’t got off to such a rocky start, she would have been perfectly amenable to him staying on in the house for now. She needed to track down the solicitor and it would be Monday before she could do that.
‘I’m not sure why you feel so strongly about his situation when we know little about it. Or why his living arrangements are our fault, or our problem. We are here to sell the house and go home as quickly as possible.’
‘Sell?’ Harriet looked up sharply from her phone. ‘That’s what you’re going to do? You said we were coming here to sort it out.’
‘And we will. I’m sorry for whatever difficulty Gil is in right now, but it’s not our problem. He offered to move out and now he’s gone.’ But not far enough, sadly. Pippa decided she needed to keep her plans about selling entirely to herself, seeing as Harriet was now firmly on Gil’s side and until she’d established what rights he actually had. ‘I would very much appreciate you not laying the blame at my door. It may surprise you to learn that not everything is my fault.’
She saw hurt flaring in Harriet’s face and immediately regretted it; this was not the way to reach her and breach the distance between them.
‘Let’s have a think about tomorrow, yes?’ Pippa made for the door. ‘I think our first adventure might be cooking dinner in that kitchen. Coming?’
‘I’ll be down in a bit.’ Harriet’s fingers were trembling around her phone. ‘Sorry.’