Finding Home in Hartfell (Hartfell Village #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

With Elaine back at her desk in the practice, and Harriet and Luca around, Pippa and Gil were finding less opportunities to be alone together, even though they were living in the same house. The caravan was still in the yard and Gil was planning to have it taken away for scrap soon, a decision that even Dorothy had eventually acquiesced to.

Cassie and Isla had left, heading north to join Rory and Ewan’s parents. Harriet was missing her best friend again, but with Wi-Fi at Alfie’s and the practice, she was managing to stay in touch. She’d developed a rosy glow on her cheeks from spending so much time outdoors. She and Pippa had met Rose’s sister-in-law for an informal chat about the high school, and viewed it from beyond the gates. It was large and modern, quite different to her current school in Kent, and Pippa’s stomach would spin with nervous indecision whenever she thought of Harriet changing direction.

She stayed overnight in London for A level results day at college. Harriet was perfectly happy to have a sleepover at Alfie’s and Pippa knew Rose would take care of her. London, the city she’d lived in all her life, was like another universe now. Vibrant, a beating heart pulsing at the centre, but loud too, full of people all hurrying somewhere else. She found it frantic after Hartfell and she messaged Gil, sending him some images of her street and the houses tightly packed together.

After the conversation with Harriet about moving, an idea had landed in Pippa’s mind and whilst she was at home, she went through all her old paintings, salvaged from her long-ago show, trying to view them with a critical and yet dispassionate eye. She hadn’t done this for years and it was heartening to realise they were maybe better than she’d allowed herself to believe. The long return drive north was a reflective one with time to think, and when she arrived, she felt a burst of joy at seeing the old house and knowing Harriet, Gil and Luca were here with the dogs.

Luca wasn’t at home, Gil was working and Harriet had messaged to say she was at Dorothy’s and not to expect her back before dinner. Impatient to see Gil, even though his Land Rover was gone, Pippa popped over to the practice for a coffee with Elaine. He was back within the hour and his greeting for Elaine was warm, but Pippa recognised the quirk of his grin for her, the promise of more once they were alone. Elaine was no fool and Pippa sensed she understood exactly what was going on. She excused herself with the explanation of a lunchtime appointment, and Gil wasted no time in catching Pippa and extending the kiss they’d shared before she’d left for London.

‘Are you busy tonight?’

‘I don’t think so.’ She was pressed up against the counter, holding him close. ‘Why?’

‘Seeing as I didn’t give you a present for your birthday, there’s somewhere I’d like to take you.’

‘Seriously? You don’t have to do that, my birthday’s been and gone.’

‘I’d like to.’ His lips were following his thumb along her jaw, and she closed her eyes as he kissed the corner of her mouth. ‘Think of it as my gift to you.’

‘Do you mean like a date? What will I tell Harriet?’

‘Maybe exactly that. That we’re going on a date.’

‘I’m not sure.’ Pippa could hardly focus with his other hand smoothing her back, sliding beneath her top. ‘What if she thinks…’

‘That we’re seeing one another? We’re sharing the house and Harriet’s not daft. She knows something has changed between us.’

‘Yes, but being friends and putting aside our differences is one thing, us being in some kind of relationship is quite another. What about Luca? Wouldn’t you rather he didn’t know?’

‘He’s an adult, albeit a young one. Clare’s had a new partner for a while now, he’ll cope if his dad is seeing someone else.’ Gil’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean, some kind of relationship?’

‘So what would you call it?’

‘Pippa, I’m crazy about you.’ He pushed a hand through his hair. ‘You know I am, I have been since the start, even though I really didn’t want to feel this way back then. And in theory, all the things we said made sense. Not talking about the future, not looking ahead. But soon, we’re gonna have to.’

Pippa had sworn Harriet to absolute secrecy where the new school was concerned, not wanting any decision they made to be swayed by her feelings for Gil. She didn’t want him to know yet, to find a way to persuade her to stay that one day she might regret. Harriet’s future came first.

‘But not yet.’ She stepped back into him, winding her arms around his neck. ‘Tonight, we’re going on a date.’

‘As long as Harriet and Luca don’t suspect,’ he questioned dryly.

‘Yes. Exactly that.’

‘Where are you and Gil going on your date, Mum?’

Pippa had popped her head around the sitting room door to let Harriet know she was going out. Her daughter was sprawled on the vomit sofa with Alfie and the dogs, looking very much at home, and Pippa’s cheeks turned pink. Luca was on the armchair, earbuds in, legs over one side, and he gave her a grin.

‘Who says it’s a date?’ she questioned, slipping a jacket on over her shirt.

‘Like, duh!’ Harriet raised her head from Alfie’s phone. ‘You’re wearing perfume, and your hair hasn’t looked like that since we got here.’

‘Thank you very much.’ Pippa’s jaw clenched, wondering if there was anything quite like a teenager to bring one crashing down to earth. Not that she’d wanted to appear as though she’d tried too hard, but still. ‘You make it sound like I’ve totally given up on my appearance, Harriet. And we’re just going out for a bit, that’s all.’

‘I didn’t mean that you don’t look nice. You do, but you haven’t worn that lipstick for ages, that’s all.’ Harriet raised a brow. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

‘Yes, well, as you’re fourteen and there’s an awful lot you shouldn’t do, I think I’m quite safe.’

‘Ready?’ Gil had joined them, and Pippa melted at his hand on her back, out of sight of Harriet. She lit up every time he touched her, a quiver racing across her skin. It was a good thing her daughter couldn’t see that, she mused distractedly.

‘Have a good time, you two,’ Harriet called cheerfully, and Luca raised a hand. ‘Back by ten p.m. and not a minute later.’

‘Honestly,’ Pippa muttered as they left the house. ‘I seriously wonder sometimes who the parent is around here.’

‘Oh, there’s no doubt.’ Gil unlocked the Land Rover and grinned at her. ‘It’s definitely Harriet.’

Pippa huffed out a laugh as she got in, aware that he was in smart jeans and a shirt, highlighting sun-streaked hair and those amused blue eyes he frequently turned on her. It was bliss to be away from everyone, including the dogs, for a while. And it was fun when he had to hurriedly change gear and pull away when she kissed him at a traffic light right before they turned green.

‘Where are you taking me?’ She’d wondered about this all afternoon. He’d disappeared and she assumed he’d been at work.

‘You’ll see.’ He raised her hand to kiss it, and once through town, he pulled into a long, treelined drive, parking at the end in a courtyard behind a huge country house. She assumed it was for dinner as they hadn’t already eaten, and when she made to go around the front, he caught her hand.

‘Not that way. It’s here.’ Gil led her around the side of the building and Pippa saw a sign attached to the wall.

‘A gallery? For me?’ She reached up to kiss his cheek, caught by his thoughtfulness.

‘Yes, for you.’ His smile seemed nervous, and his fingers tightened around hers. ‘It belongs to friends of Kenny and Vince, that’s how I found it.’

‘I love it, thank you. Even before I see it. And I would have been happy to spend our date anywhere, as long as it’s with you.’

‘So it is a date?’ He smiled as he let go of her hand to rest it on her back as he opened the door.

‘Very much a date.’ It had been a long time since anyone had chosen something so special, so meaningful, to her and she refused to allow thoughts of leaving Hartfell and Gil to spoil it. Tonight she had this, and she turned quickly to place her hands on his shoulders. ‘Thank you.’

‘You haven’t seen it yet.’

‘But I know I’m going to love it.’ She followed the corridor towards a door and lights at the end. ‘Is it an exhibition? I can’t see any other guests.’

‘It’s a private viewing, just us.’ Gil’s hand was still gripping hers and he reached past her to open the door. ‘Let me show you.’

The gallery was beautiful. A simple and elegant well-proportioned space, clean white walls expertly hung with art Pippa quicky recognised as outstanding. They moved through to another, smaller room, and she halted so abruptly that Gil’s chest crashed against her back. A hand flew to her mouth as the familiar tremble began in her limbs, stomach clenching in shock as her eyes ran over the images on the walls.

There was Maud, snuggled in her bed with Lola, Posy grazing in the paddock beneath an oak tree, white forelock bright against her brown face. Harriet cuddling Maud on her knee, and a jumble of pastel sweet peas clambering up a trellis in the overgrown garden. Ivy’s farmhouse nestled in its valley, where Gil had taken her that morning after they’d first made love, and still more. Every single picture in this room Pippa had drawn herself. None of the sketches and watercolours were framed, all hung haphazardly with no thought of placement or merit, quite unlike the professionalism of the arrangements in the first room.

‘Who did this? They have to come down!’ Tears were pressing at her eyes and her gaze was running through the gallery, searching for more people, ones who might have witnessed her work and made their opinions clear. She went to move forward, to snatch the nearest one from the wall and Gil planted his hands on her shoulders.

‘I did it. For you,’ he said quietly, and she was afraid to lean into him now, afraid of allowing herself to rest on his strength after this. ‘I’m sorry I shocked you. But please, would you let me explain?’

‘How could you? You knew how I felt after what happened.’

‘I promise that no one but you and me has seen them. Kenny mentioned the gallery and wondered if you’d heard of it, and that’s when I had the idea. He contacted the owners on my behalf and asked for a favour, but I didn’t tell anyone what I was planning to do. They gave me a key and closed the gallery so I could put them up myself this afternoon.’ Gil squeezed her shoulders. ‘And I’ll be taking them down tonight, before we leave. Not a single person, other than you and me, will see them.’

‘But why,’ she whispered. ‘Why bring them here? They’re rough, they don’t belong in a gallery like this.’

‘Pippa, you have such a gift, and I don’t think you even realise how wonderful these are.’ He slid his arms tight around her, holding her steady. ‘I did it because I want you to see what I see. Actually, it’s more than that.’ He turned her slowly until she was facing him. ‘I want you to understand what I feel when I look at them.’

He took her hand to press it against his heart, beating as rapidly as her own. ‘How perfectly you’ve caught Lola’s expression, the way she tilts her head when she looks at me. That day on the fell when we talked, and I knew I wanted you in my life. The one of the house from the garden, exactly as I remember it as a kid. Even the bloody demon pony and that look on her face. It’s just perfect, I’d swear she was about to bite me.’

‘Well, you had just chased her around the garden.’ Pippa’s smile was tremulous, the fear receding, replaced by thoughts she couldn’t quite bring into order yet. ‘If you’d caught her, she probably would’ve done.’ She’d drawn that the evening Posy had kicked him, and she’d soaked him with filthy water. Posy’s flash of temper, his own outrage; she’d caught them both and she’d known the minute she’d finished it was good. A tear ran down her cheek and he gently wiped it away.

‘I’m sorry you had an awful experience when you were so young and first showed your work. I’m sorry it knocked your confidence and made you feel you weren’t good enough to be an artist in your own right.’ Every word Gil murmured was falling into her heart. ‘Because everything in here tells me that you are good enough and the reason I did this was to help you see it in some way. They’re beautiful and brilliant, and they belong wherever you want them to be seen. Or not, that’s your choice. But they’re special to me because they’re part of you.’

She was crying properly now. Some of it relief that her drawings weren’t on public display, but it wasn’t all that. Mostly it was because she’d never imagined seeing her work like this again and Gil had done it for her.

‘What are you planning to do for our second date?’ She tried to laugh through the tears, and he gently smoothed them away. ‘Because this will take some beating. Both for shock value and thoughtfulness, although I’m not sure you’re meant to cry on a first date. That usually comes later.’

‘Well, I haven’t exactly got as far as a second date,’ he said softly, kissing her forehead. ‘I thought we might be over before we got to number two if this backfired.’

‘It nearly did.’ She turned around, leaning into him as she dared to take another peep at the walls. ‘But it’s probably the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. It was always easier to hide away, to keep my art to myself.’

‘You’re saying that like it’s too late, Pippa. It doesn’t have to be, not if you want something different.’

A few days later, she was still doing her best to avoid the sidelong glances Harriet was giving her. The gallery date with Gil had been utterly unexpected and he’d arranged champagne to celebrate her private exhibition. Afterwards, when they’d taken down her work and left the room ready to be rehung, they’d gone on for dinner at a quiet country pub. Parting back at the house with Harriet and Luca there had been difficult, and they’d shared a goodnight kiss that had kept Pippa awake for ages, thinking about Gil and what he’d done for her.

Luca had since left to join friends backpacking in Spain for a few days and the house felt quieter without him. It was impossible now to avoid thoughts of the future, with Harriet joining her dad for a holiday soon, and that would mean Pippa had little reason to remain in Hartfell. She’d been busy with plans since her brief visit to London and the date with Gil, ones that she’d kept quiet from everyone but Harriet, needing to be certain everything was in place before she revealed them.

She let herself into the practice, planning to catch up with messages. Yesterday, she’d emailed her dad, and she was hoping for a swift response. For once he had replied straightaway and a sigh of happiness and relief escaped when she read it. An email had also arrived from Edmund, the local historian, and Pippa’s heart began to beat rapidly as she scanned it. She needed to act on that now, and she called Miles and made a request which he immediately agreed to.

Ninety minutes later she met Miles outside the youth hostel, and Edmund arrived shortly after. His news, as he’d already pointed out, might amount to nothing and she shouldn’t get her hopes too high. But that didn’t stop her praying he was right.

‘This is all a bit sudden, isn’t it?’ Miles unlocked the front door of the hostel. ‘First time we’ve had any interest in the building.’

‘Once I have a trail to pursue, I’m afraid I must continue. Old habits die hard.’ Edmund chuckled and Pippa grinned at him. She knew from Hazel he’d spent his career as a language expert with MI5, travelling to London and beyond, and had now turned his considerable intellect and expertise to local history.

Inside, the building was cool, with the thick stone walls keeping out the warmth of the day. It had once been a pub and the three downstairs rooms were large, the last of them a functional and unattractive kitchen she glimpsed at the end of a short corridor. Plain red sofas and chairs sat on a blue carpet in one reception room, a long pine table in the other, chairs lined up either side.

‘So what’s this about?’ Miles questioned. ‘I know what you said on the phone, Pippa, but you were in a bit of a hurry.’

‘Would you like me to explain?’ Edmund gave her a questioning glance and she nodded. ‘I’ve been helping Pippa research her family history, Mr Gray.’ He pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘My knees, I’m afraid. I made some enquiries about her great-grandmother, Ivy Walker, who was a farmer’s wife and an artist.

‘I managed to track down the granddaughter of Ivy’s closest friend, who had a gift for detail and remembered many of the stories she’d heard. We had a marvellous chat online, and she was able to tell me that Ivy was very lively, an excellent pianist and was also expert at training the working dogs they ran on the farm.’

Pippa felt a rush of warmth for the woman Ivy had been. One whom she’d never get to know but whose life had amounted to much more than those solemn, rather flat black-and-white photographs she’d seen. Now she was imagining Ivy’s life in colour; a woman who liked to laugh and loved animals, enjoyed music and was highly skilled.

‘Right,’ Miles said slowly. ‘But what does that have to do with the hostel?’

‘Well, of course, Pippa’s main interest is in Ivy’s paintings, and that’s where we might just have had a stroke of luck. Linda, that’s the delightful woman with whom I spoke yesterday, told me that her grandmother had had a couple of Ivy’s paintings but sadly they were lost.’

‘Oh.’ Pippa’s shoulders dropped. So close to finding Ivy’s work only to have it snatched away again. But Edmund was still speaking, and she quickly refocused. ‘I’m sorry, I missed that?’

‘What she does remember, though, is that Ivy painted flowers too. Wild ones, the sort she would’ve seen around the farm. And I think what we’re interested in might be upstairs,’ Edmund nodded towards a central staircase in the hall. ‘Why don’t you have a look, Pippa? I’m sure you’ll recognise what we’re looking for if it’s there.’

Pippa didn’t need a second invitation and she hurried up to the first floor, peeking in each room, bunk beds and mattresses confirming the hostel’s functionality. At the back of the building, she opened the door onto another small room which slept four, and a hand flew to her mouth. A painting hung on the far wall, and she crept forward, barely breathing. It was a grouping of three poppies and even though the frame was damaged and the painting dirty, she saw the exquisite detail the artist had captured.

Scarlet flowers with dark centres, each petal so soft and perfectly shaped she almost expected them to flutter. Green stems were bright beneath the red, grouped in a meadow beneath a pale blue sky. She really needed much better light to make out a tiny signature in the corner. It could be an I but then again it might be a J . Holding her breath, she lifted the painting carefully from the wall and turned it over. She gasped at the sight of the small and neat handwriting, unable to hold back the rush of emotion and gathering tears.

Poppies in Lowgill Meadow. Ivy Walker, 1940

‘Have you found it?’ Edmund’s voice floated up and she couldn’t keep him waiting any longer. He had led Pippa to her family history, to this painting, and she returned downstairs, her smile almost making her face ache.

‘Yes. I think it’s Ivy’s.’ She turned it over so he could read the inscription and he was every bit as delighted, thrilled with their discovery. ‘Edmund, thank you.’ Impulsively Pippa threw an arm around him, the painting tucked beneath the other. ‘I can’t tell you what this means.’

‘I think I can guess, my dear.’ He patted her hand, his own eyes shining.

‘Miles, I know this is very unorthodox, but please can I take the painting home with me?’ She turned the full effect of her enthusiasm on Miles, and he blinked.

‘Well, er, it’s not really that simple,’ he said uncertainly. ‘The hostel is for sale with the contents and I’m not—’

‘Please,’ she said urgently, gripping the painting. ‘I know I shouldn’t ask, and I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but if I leave it here now it might be lost forever. It’s precious to me, irreplaceable really. It’s not really worth anything to anyone else and it might end up in a car boot sale or a skip. I promise I’ll put in writing that I have it and I’ll pay whatever the Association wants. Even the cost of the building.’

‘Is than an offer of the asking price,’ he said jokingly, and she laughed.

She didn’t have that kind of money just sitting there but she needed to say something that made it clear she was deadly serious about keeping the painting. ‘No, but I would if I could.’

‘Go on then.’ Miles shook his head, and she knew he’d be expecting a favour in return. ‘You can repay me by making up your mind about Home Farm and whether I can sell it for you. Or not, I’d like to know which.’

‘I’ll give you a final decision by the end of the week, I promise. Thank you so much, both of you.’ She looked at Edmund. ‘You’ll never know how much this means to me.’

‘All in a day’s work,’ he said cheerfully, rising slowly from his seat. ‘I’m delighted to have followed a trail and led you here. Linda remembered seeing the painting hanging on the wall when the building was still a public house, and we were rather lucky, that it has survived here so long.’

Outside on the lane, she thanked Edmund again and he set off back to his cottage with a satisfied air. She also thanked Miles a second time, declining his offer of a quick drink at the pub to talk about Home Farm. She rushed back to the house and stood Ivy’s painting on a cabinet in the sitting room. It would belong with her always, and she adored this precious connection to Hartfell through her great-grandmother and the gift they shared.