Finding Home in Hartfell (Hartfell Village #1)

Chapter Eleven

Posy was grazing on the lawn at the front of the house and to Pippa’s surprise, she stuffed her nose inside the bucket Harriet had taken from Gil. The pony let Harriet grab the rope too and lead her back to him, having evidently decided to submit this time, and he wedged her firmly against the post and rail fence on the drive. Although she flattened her ears and gave him what even Pippa recognised from ten feet away was a filthy look, she offered no further objection to the needle he jabbed efficiently into her neck.

‘Done. Same again next month.’ He straightened up and gave her a pat. ‘Well done, Posy, you were very brave,’ he said loudly, and Pippa caught his amused glance on her as Harriet giggled. ‘Thanks, Harriet. I literally couldn’t have done it without you. She barely lets me near her.’

‘You’re welcome. She’s sweet.’ Harriet was stroking Posy whilst the pony tried to stick her nose in the now-empty bucket. ‘How old is she?’

‘Don’t know exactly but at least twenty. That’s why she needs a close eye kept on her, she’s not quite as fit as she thinks she is.’

Pippa seriously doubted that. Geriatric or not, Posy clearly still had a decent turn of foot. Those stubby little legs had shot across the yard pretty smartly from what she’d just seen.

‘Can you tell their age by their teeth? I read that somewhere.’ Harriet looked away shyly and Gil nodded.

‘Well done, you do. I’ll show you some other time, when Posy’s not expecting it, okay? There’s only so much attention from me she’ll submit to at any one time. Her teeth are quite brown, which is a sign of age, as well as the way they’re sloping. She’s also prone to laminitis brought on by a hormonal condition called Cushing’s Disease.’ He paused and Harriet was waiting for more, listening intently. ‘It’s incurable but it can be managed by medication and good care. Laminitis causes severe pain in the worst cases as a bone inside her hoof can rotate or sink. If she eats too much lush grass the extra sugars and starch ferment in the gastrointestinal tract and create a bacterial imbalance that can also cause attacks of laminitis. It’s very serious.’

‘Wow. I had no idea. It’s so cool that you know all this stuff.’

‘I’m a vet, I’m supposed to.’ He was still smiling at Harriet and Pippa was finding it hard to cling to her animosity in the face of his kindness and patience towards her daughter. ‘So that’s why she’s turned out in the morning and comes back in around lunchtime. Are you taking her back to the stable? Just make sure you close the door.’

He shot Pippa another look and she caught his amusement. At times he was so hard to read, it was like trying to decipher a book in a language she’d never learned. She watched as Posy walked quietly alongside Harriet towards the barn, something clenching in her heart at the sight.

‘You’d better get that foot up and some ice on it, Pippa.’

‘I’m fine.’ She wasn’t expecting his concern. ‘Posy really doesn’t like you, does she?’

‘It’s because I’m the voice of reason in her life and won’t let her stuff her face on summer grass until she drops dead.’

‘Who does she actually belong to?’ The thought had only just occurred to Pippa. ‘You?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. What would I want with a small, angry pony who can’t stand the sight of me?’ He shrugged. ‘She was here when I moved back into the house. Legend has it she was left behind by a client who didn’t want her, and I’ve been supervising her diet ever since, much to her disgust.’

‘But you’ll take her with you when you go?’

‘I will not. Where do you think she’s going to live when I’m in a rented flat somewhere?’ Gil set off towards the yard and Pippa hurried to catch him up, ignoring the discomfort in her foot. ‘She’s like a bloody homing pigeon. I reckon if I let her loose on the fells, she’d just find her way back again.’

‘Well, she can’t stay here! The last thing I need is another tenant, and a four-legged one at that. You’ll have to sell her or something.’

‘I won’t. Your house, your pony, your problem. You sell her. She must be worth fifty quid to someone. Oh and by the way.’ He paused to stare at Pippa and her heart sank. She recognised that expression and knew she wouldn’t like whatever was coming next. ‘Dorothy’s looking for a bit of help with her animals. I had a word with Harriet earlier and she’s up for it, seeing as she doesn’t have much else to do right now. Be good for her and I’m glad to get Posy off my hands as well.’

It took Pippa a few seconds to process his words and her own were a furious splutter when she eventually found her voice. ‘You what? How dare you talk to Harriet without speaking to me first? And the answer’s no, by the way. She has hardly any experience of animals and I’m not sure she should go within twenty feet of Posy again, not from what I’ve just seen. Nor any of Dorothy’s animals, whatever they might be!’

‘Fine.’ His lips curled. ‘Then be sure to let Harriet know your decision, because Dorothy’s expecting her at the farm in an hour to show her around. I said I’d go with her.’

‘You should’ve asked me first!’ Back in the kitchen, Pippa was trying with everything she possessed not to let her temper get the better of her. ‘He had no right talking to you without involving me. You’re still a child, and one who knows almost nothing about animals.’

‘Yes, but I’m not stupid, am I? And I’m not a child, Mum. Not any longer.’ Harriet dipped her head but not before Pippa had seen the glimmer of tears. ‘You’re the only one that thinks I’m not up to it.’

‘I don’t think that at all, Harriet. Of course you’re not stupid, or not up to the challenge.’ Pippa dragged out one of the rickety chairs and sank onto it. ‘It’s just, well, I’m worried about you, that’s all. How much help can you be to Dorothy if you’ve never really looked after animals before?’

‘I can learn.’ For once Harriet wasn’t holding her phone and Pippa caught the hopeful note in her voice. From everything she’d seen of Harriet and Lola together so far, she had no idea how she was going to separate her daughter from yet more animals when it was time to leave for home. Harriet might get attached to them all and then Pippa would be the one dragging her back to the London life she’d yearned for right up until Gil had interfered.

‘And what if you get bitten or kicked, or something.’ Pippa hadn’t forgotten all the unpleasant odours she’d been subjected to in the practice this week and she pulled a face. ‘It’ll be filthy, smelly work.’ She hoped that might do the trick and put Harriet off.

‘Mum, I don’t care! I want to do it and as usual you’re the only one standing in my way.’

Pippa’s shoulders slumped. The only one, it felt sometimes, standing between Harriet and actual harm. Bad cop again. When had she stopped being the good cop, or had she never been one? ‘I just want to keep you safe, that’s all.’

‘Keep me stuck in this place with nothing to do and barely any Wi-Fi, you mean. I thought you’d want me to be outside and getting some exercise in the fresh air and away from my phone. Isn’t that what all parents want for their kids?’

There was no way Pippa could refute that and they both knew it. She’d lost the argument before she’d even known one was coming. Gil had seen to that by getting Harriet onside first. Bloody, bloody man, Pippa fumed. The sooner she got this place sold and them far away from it, the better.

‘Can we at least go and see the farm, Mum, please?’ Harriet had injected a sweeter note into her voice and Pippa sighed.

‘Fine. But if it’s dangerous in any way, then you’re not doing it, okay? And do not forget that it’s temporary.’

‘Okay.’ Harriet leapt up and Pippa melted the moment her daughter’s arms flew around her neck, submitting to the hug and squeezing Harriet back tightly. It wasn’t for long, and Harriet might hate the farm. Pippa could but hope.

‘Safeguarding?’ Dorothy had a way of snorting that expressed several emotions at once and all of them were scornful. She peered at Pippa over a pair of glasses perched halfway down her nose and held together with tape. ‘Is that one of those meaningless words you ruddy millennials have invented?’

Pippa attempted to unclench her teeth before Harriet – or worse, Gil – caught her grinding them again. They’d only arrived at Dorothy’s farm five minutes ago after he’d offered them a lift and they’d piled into his Land Rover, Lola sprawled across Harriet’s lap in the back. And now Harriet was already shooting Seriously? vibes at Pippa and clearly wishing her mother would just shut up and back off.

‘It’s a widely accepted and reasonable term for making sure young or vulnerable people are properly taken care of and kept safe, Dorothy,’ Pippa replied as evenly as she could. Gil was looking at sheep in a pen, but she was certain he was enjoying himself very much, if the shaking in his shoulders was anything to go by. She decided that Dorothy could give Lady Catherine de Bourgh a run for her money when it came to withering stares, and tried not to quail under the scrutiny.

‘If—’ and Pippa emphasised the word very firmly ’—Harriet is going to be helping you for a few hours each week, then I’m sure you understand that I need to know her safety is paramount and she won’t come to any harm.’

‘Can’t guarantee it,’ Dorothy said cheerfully, giving Harriet a wink and Harriet grinned. ‘Child’s clearly been safeguarded all her life. What she needs is a few risks and a good run around in the fresh air. Pale as a peony, that one. Get her off that phone whilst she’s at it and I could do with the help.’

‘Harriet is fourteen, Dorothy. And as you quite rightly pointed out, she is still a child.’

‘So? I was driving by the time I was her age and could lamb a sheep in my sleep.’ Dorothy fixed Pippa with another look and Pippa made herself hold it. This was one battle she wasn’t going to lose. ‘Are you going to keep her cooped up forever, staring at a screen and tracking her phone so you know where she is every minute of the day?’

Pippa quashed a flare of guilt. Didn’t everyone track their children on their own phones, counting the minutes until they walked back through the front door? But such a thing wasn’t quite so easy in Hartfell, where signal was patchy at best.

‘Anyway, it’s only the bull she needs to watch out for but he’s a sweetie really.’

‘Bull?’ Pippa’s eyes widened in alarm as she glanced around the yard. ‘As in, an actual bull?’

‘Yes, an actual bull.’ Dorothy slowly shook her head, giving Pippa the clear impression she didn’t like dealing with people she thought were dimwits. ‘The kind of bull that likes to impregnate cows and make calves. Mine fired blanks though, so he lives a quiet life now he’s been castrated. That’s the official term for having his—’

‘I get the picture, thank you very much.’ Pippa was checking out the yard, mostly so she didn’t have to keep facing Dorothy. ‘Could we at least have a look around?’

‘If you like. Come on, Harriet, I’ll introduce you to Rufus and Rupert. They’re the alpacas.’ Dorothy was already striding off and Harriet rushed to catch her up. Three dogs were at Dorothy’s heels; a small terrier that looked as though it might have your leg off if it took against you – much like Dorothy, Pippa thought warily – as well as a beautiful red setter, sleek and glossy, and a three-legged lurcher who was prancing through patches of dried mud alongside a gambolling Lola.

The farm sat at the end of a short track, a square house facing a front garden that had mostly been given over to orchard, grazed by three pale brown sheep, one of which was impressively horned. A nice height for stabbing someone in the thigh, Pippa mused uncomfortably. The plain white farmhouse was attached on either side by a stone barn and Dorothy disappeared around the side of the largest one, Harriet close by.

Inside the beautifully neat barn, almost all of it divided into pens, two alpacas were staring as their little group approached and Pippa heard a low humming as one of the pair, its woolly coat the exact shade of caramelised sugar, backed away. The second alpaca, chocolate brown, watched curiously.

‘This is Rufus,’ Dorothy said fondly, unfastening the gate to enter the pen. She rubbed a gentle hand on the first alpaca’s back.

‘May I?’ Harriet held out an arm, throwing Pippa an excited grin which made her gulp, and Dorothy nodded.

‘But quietly and slowly, please. The boys aren’t used to strangers and although they’re generally calm, they can be wary. Stroke his shoulder, just here. He likes that.’ Dorothy held open the gate and Harriet slipped inside as Pippa watched, Gil nearby. Harriet crept nearer, hand slowly reaching out. Rufus had a cautious eye on her, but he submitted to her touch as Dorothy murmured to him.

‘They’re so soft!’ The second alpaca was approaching, ears down. ‘Mum, you try.’ Harriet was stroking Rufus gently, and Dorothy stepped away.

‘Not in the pen,’ Dorothy warned. ‘One stranger is quite enough.’

‘I can see them from here, Harriet,’ Pippa said, silently agreeing with Dorothy. She’d be ordering wellies the minute she was next connected to Wi-Fi; she didn’t fancy getting any of that poo on her trainers, or Harriet’s either.

‘Have you had them a long time?’ Harriet asked, her attention on the alpacas. Pippa knew, with a sinking heart, that this was a done deal – her daughter was entranced.

‘About six years.’ Dorothy’s hand went to a pocket, and she held out some food. The chocolate brown alpaca nibbled at it greedily and Harriet laughed when Rufus tried to grab some too, pushing past her. ‘They came to me when their previous owner died and nobody else wanted them.’

‘Mum, aren’t they lovely?’

‘They are.’ The two boys did look very sweet, and Pippa took a step nearer as the brown alpaca eyed her right back, making a noise a bit like expelling air. She held out a hand, unable to see his eyes properly underneath a fluffy topknot. Dorothy was saying something, and Pippa glanced at her.

‘Don’t touch his face, he—’

Pippa’s hand was hovering and with lightning reflexes, the alpaca launched an evil-smelling blob right onto her chest. ‘Oh!’ She stared at the green stain spreading across her top.

‘Spits,’ Dorothy finished. ‘Naughty boy, Rupert. Remember that, Harriet, if you don’t want him to spit on you. Shoulders and back only, not his face.’

Harriet was choking back laughter, clearly trying not to startle the animals. Pippa shot backwards in case the naughty boy fancied another go, taking the stink with her. Straight into Gil, whose hands landed on her shoulders.

‘Steady,’ he said quickly, and she heard the grin in his voice. No doubt he’d enjoyed that too. The hot sting of tears rushed into her eyes; even the wretched alpacas hated her. All she wanted was to go back to her lovely life in London and prevent Harriet getting hurt in any physical or emotional sense, not stand around here being attacked by unruly animals and laughed at by Dorothy and an irascible vet.

‘It’s only the contents of his stomach, I daresay it’ll wash out eventually.’ Dorothy said briskly, treating Rupert to a back rub that Pippa felt he didn’t deserve.

‘You okay?’ Gil’s voice was low in her left ear, and she wasn’t expecting his hands tightening on her shoulders as she stumbled again, the heat of his body startling and sudden against hers. She nodded hurriedly, freeing herself from his fingers warm and gentle, sure on her skin. Was that a deliberate touch or just a means of soothing her after the shock?

‘Mum, we’re going to see the sheep.’ Harriet barely glanced at Pippa as she left the pen and Dorothy fastened the catch. ‘Dorothy said they’re Soays, descended from the feral sheep that used to live on St Kilda. There are lambs too, born in spring. They’re a rare breed.’ Harriet looked over her shoulder, already following Dorothy, the four dogs skipping ahead.

‘Pity alpacas aren’t,’ Pippa said shakily. Her smile for Harriet was a tremulous one, her thoughts caught on Gil and those last few moments; his chest firm against her back, arms brushing hers. She forced one foot in front of the other, giving Rupert a wide berth and a wary look. ‘Let’s go, then.’

‘Can I stay for a bit, Mum, please?’ Harriet hung back to walk alongside her. Pippa saw the light in her daughter’s eyes and knew there was no refusing. ‘I’ll be back in plenty of time for dinner, I want to help Dorothy feed the animals.’

‘You can stay this afternoon and then let’s talk properly tonight, Harriet.’ It wasn’t a question and Harriet nodded grumpily. ‘There are a few things we need to consider.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like how long we’re staying in Hartfell, for one.’

‘Well, you’re helping Gil at the vets now and we have to stay until Elaine gets back.’ Harriet shrugged. How simple she made everything sound, but Pippa had a sinking feeling that their being in Hartfell had suddenly got a whole lot more complicated.

Gil gave Pippa a single, unreadable stare and excused himself, pleading work. He jumped into the Land Rover with Lola, and Pippa was relieved to follow Dorothy along another track towards more fields.

‘Don’t worry.’ Dorothy halted and placed a hand on Pippa’s arm. She stared at it, nonplussed by the older woman’s brusque tone and kinder words, and realised she was talking about Harriet. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her.’

The roar of an engine had everyone turning to see a tractor pulling into the yard, a huge trailer loaded with plastic-wrapped bales attached to it. The cab door opened, and a teenage boy jumped down, followed more slowly by a man, maybe late thirties. If Vikings did farmers, then Pippa strongly suspected that this strapping pair would fit the bill.

Tall and probably blue-eyed to boot, the teenager’s hair was white blond, and he had the kind of looks that made girls – and probably some boys – behave very much as Harriet was doing now. Usually so confident and assured, Pippa saw her pulling her phone from a pocket with one hand and flicking her long hair over a shoulder with the other, trying to look more nonchalant than she clearly felt. Pippa’s heart plummeted even further when the boy grinned at her and Harriet smiled shyly back, warmth tinting her face pink.

‘This is James and his nephew Alfie.’ Dorothy tilted her head before resuming her stride. ‘Farmers,’ she added, quite unnecessarily in Pippa’s opinion. ‘Thanks chaps, you know where to go, the Dutch barn around the back. I won’t be long, I’m just showing Harriet around the place. She’s helping me out.’

‘Well, it’s not exactly decided yet, Dorothy.’ Pippa hadn’t even merited an introduction and the last thing she needed was another reason for Harriet to want to hang around here. Now, one had just jumped down from a tractor and probably stolen Harriet’s heart as well, if the look on her face was anything to go by. She’d had a boyfriend at Easter, but he’d been more of a mate with whom she’d had a few dates before they’d decided to revert their relationship back to the friend zone. Alfie was an altogether different prospect.

With another smile for Alfie, one that he returned before dropping his gaze to examine his boots, Harriet managed to drag herself away and caught Dorothy up. Pippa lagged behind, alternately marvelling at Dorothy’s energy, and cursing the number of animals she had tucked in every corner of the farm. She must be eighty if she was a day and reluctant though Pippa was to let Harriet come here regularly, it was obvious why Dorothy needed the help. Chickens and ducks were free range, scratching through the muck heap, and a grey cat eyed them warily from the top of an open bale of haylage, a couple of adorable kittens leaping around her.

Heading out of the last barn after the grand tour, they came across Alfie in the tractor, unloading the bales with some kind of pronged attachment into an open-sided barn, lifting and storing them with easy efficiency. Harriet dug out her phone from a pocket and was soon videoing him, no doubt to share with friends. Dorothy left them to talk with James, still swaddled in her hat and gilet, despite the mild air.

‘So, what do you think, Mum?’ Harriet’s eyes were shining when she dragged them from Alfie long enough to glance at Pippa, who hadn’t missed him grinning every time he caught Harriet watching. ‘Can I come and help Dorothy, please? I’ll be careful, I promise, and I’m sure she’ll give me lots of training.’

Pippa seriously doubted that, and she tried not to sigh. ‘Just please don’t forget that we’re going home soon, and you mustn’t get attached to any of the animals.’ Or boys, she added mentally, determined to take her own advice. At least Harriet would agree that her mum was too old for all that nonsense now.

The bales were off the trailer now, safely stored in the barn, so Alfie cut the engine and got out. He and Harriet were sidling towards each other, drawn like magnets, and Pippa felt another clench in her heart at yet more evidence of Harriet growing up. Her daughter definitely needed an outlet for her energy but if she formed an attachment to Alfie, then Pippa had absolutely no idea how she would get her back to London without a battle.