Chapter Nine
The few weeks before the end of the school term passed in a blur of exams, packing for the summer and, for Cassie, the strangeness of leaving her career.
Bar maternity leave, she’d worked since university, and she found it both sad and scarily exciting to have a free summer and a new future beckoning.
Since her decision not to accept the promotion, she’d quickly fallen out of the loop as her colleagues moved on, and after two weeks her boss had quietly suggested she take the rest of her notice period as gardening leave, and she understood. She was surplus to requirements now.
Saying goodbye to her team had been difficult and profoundly poignant, and despite her relief at an escape from the pressure, it felt as though she’d shed a layer of her own self after that final day.
Her mind was used to working at pace, and it had been odd, seeing Isla and Rory off to school without settling straight down to work afterwards.
Jonny and the rest of Blue at Midnight had reformed for their final performance at Glastonbury in June, playing the legends slot to a rapturous and adoring crowd.
Raf had arranged passes for Cassie, Isla and Rory, and the whole weekend was unforgettable, as mesmerising as it was exhausting and exhilarating.
The band had taken over a hotel and Jonny’s entire family flew in, along with Gil’s two sons plus Fiona and Gordon.
When Raf and the band eventually left the stage after their set, triumphant and pumped, Cassie was the first person he sought out to hug.
Jas, madly in love, had decided to stay on in London as she and her girlfriend didn’t want to spend the summer apart.
She would travel up later on to meet Isla and Rory, and fly with them to Italy for the week with Cassie’s mother in August. Cassie and Pippa spoke regularly, and although Pippa was busy with the family, with Gil’s two sons at home, the house renovations underway and her work at the gallery, she and Cassie would at least be nearby and able to catch up whenever time allowed.
When school finally broke for the summer, Cassie loaded the car, and she, Isla and Rory headed north to the Dales.
When they eventually arrived, she saw that July had brought a dryness to the landscape that was missing in spring, those vivid May greens faded to muted shades dried by wind and sun.
The wildflowers in the meadows had gone too, the fields shorn of their crop for winter feed.
Some farmers were still at work bringing in the hay as she drove along sunlit lanes, the buzz of tractors noisy as they scurried from farm to field before the weather broke.
She was a knot of nerves and anticipation when they reached Raf’s house at the end of a quiet lane, one they had only glimpsed online.
She hadn’t seen him since Glastonbury, when they’d been permanently surrounded by people, his public self very much on show.
Although they’d messaged regularly since, sharing information about her family’s stay here, they hadn’t spoken more than a couple of times.
The sleek BMW coupe he’d adored had gone, replaced by a Land Rover, and she smiled at the mud-spattered vehicle and its practical, solid size. Country gent, indeed.
Rory was first out of the car to open the gate onto the drive, one which curved towards the house set further down, half hidden from the road.
Isla hurried after him, both already snapping photographs on their phones, ones which they knew not to share.
Respecting Raf’s privacy was something they’d long understood, and Pippa had let Cassie know that while some locals were agog at having him move in, most were unconcerned and happy to let him be.
She drove through the gate and parked, rolling her shoulders to loosen the tension as she got out of the car.
She raised her arms, extending the stretch, aware of her children’s exclamations over the house, and that it was theirs for the whole summer.
The house was built of the same local stone she recognised from Home Farm, chimney pots perched at either end of a wide slate roof, the gable wall facing her white with a half-glazed door set into it.
A high stone wall surrounded what she assumed must be the garden, a narrow wooden door decorated with a lion’s head knocker closed to whatever lay on the other side.
Birdsong was cheerful and welcome after the din of London traffic, and a tranquil happiness began to replace the nerves as she went to the boot in search of a cool bag with food that needed to go in the fridge.
Finally they were here, and for now at least, there were no more difficult decisions to come.
Packing for three over six weeks didn’t come lightly, and it had taken her and Rory a good thirty minutes to stuff everything in.
The quiet peace was shattered when he shrieked, and she yanked the bag free and hurried around the car. What now?
Cassie’s mouth fell into a gape as Raf emerged from the house, and then she too was running, the cool bag forgotten. She stuttered to a halt and grabbed Rory’s arm, his rucksack abandoned nearby. ‘Rory, don’t crowd him, okay? Three new people is a lot for Flynn to take in.’
He shook her free and dropped to his knees to hug the huge wolfhound, who didn’t seem in the least concerned and was already thumping his tail as Isla watched. Cassie’s gaze met Raf’s, and she was laughing through happy tears as she raised both hands to her face.
‘What have you done! Are you absolutely mad?’
‘Yes, probably, but hey.’ Raf let go of Flynn’s collar now Rory had stood, and he grinned as Flynn ambled over to her. ‘We were just two guys in search of a home, and we decided to make one together.’
‘How has Pippa kept this quiet? And Harriet!’
‘They were sworn to absolute secrecy. I can’t believe we got away with it.’
But Cassie didn’t care. She barely even had to bend to embrace Flynn, his thick grey coat rough and warm and perfect.
He nudged her with a massive head, and she laughed as she wobbled.
The last time she’d seen him had been in the stable at Dorothy’s and he seemed even bigger close up.
Did he remember her or was he just gently nudging her again because he wanted another cuddle?
Either way, he was here, and a new thought had her looking over to Raf again.
‘Is he really yours? Please tell me you haven’t just borrowed him or something. Fostering?’
‘I didn’t think it was fair to bring him home if he wasn’t allowed to stay.’
Isla rushed up and flung her arms around Raf, and he laughed as Rory did the same, before they bolted into the house. Apparently even teenagers could still whoop with excitement, and Flynn turned his head to stare after them.
‘So you’ve actually gone and got a dog? But you’ve never had a pet before! Not even a rabbit or a hamster, something simple to start you off.’
‘Gil put in a good word for me with Dorothy and I’m still on trial,’ Raf said airily.
‘She said, and I quote, that she’ll have my balls for target practice and won’t be responsible for her actions if I let anything happen to him.
So I’m on my very best behaviour, and actually, so is Flynn. He’s settled really well.’
‘How long have you had him?’ Cassie was still stroking Flynn, staring into an expression that seemed brighter, more hopeful. Her smile was a wry one; it was probably just her emotions running away with her again, and she was imagining it.
‘Four weeks. He’s great company and we seem to understand each other.’
‘But I thought wolfhounds didn’t like to be left alone?
’ Flynn dropped his head to investigate the cool bag, and she picked it up.
Not that it made much difference, she couldn’t reach high enough to keep it out of his way.
Five minutes in and Raf had already thrown her another curveball, a very tall one with four legs and a gently wagging tail.
First a house and now a dog? And the distillery, with Kenny and Vince.
It was clear he was making a life in Hartfell.
‘Well, we’re working on that. I take him out first thing and leave him in the kitchen while I go do some work. Then we meet again for lunch, and after that he usually stays with me. He seems okay as long as he knows I’m in the house, even if I’m not in sight. I have done my homework, I promise.
‘Harriet and I went to meet a couple who breed Irish wolfhounds, and I learnt a lot. I know they need loads of space, comfy, supportive beds, regular grooming and a good walk every day. This place is pretty secure, but I can’t let him off the lead away from home in case he takes off after something. ’
‘But what about when you go away?’ Cassie couldn’t quite get her head around it. Practicalities and Ewan’s reluctance were the reasons why they didn’t have their own dog, and suddenly Raf had gone and done it without spending weeks and months pondering the decision.
‘Pippa and Gil have him if he can’t come with me, and he’s getting used to it. We have Sunday lunch together most weeks at the pub or Home Farm, or here sometimes.’
‘But you don’t cook!’
‘Well, I do now.’ Raf’s amused gaze caught hers and that tremor passed between them again.
She hadn’t allowed herself to think too much about staying here with him, and he looked so good.
How was she going to manage, seeing him every day and denying what she wanted, what her body was betraying whenever he was near? She would simply have to find a way.
‘Come on, Cass, I’m not completely useless. I’ve lived on my own quite a lot and I get by. Anyway, you’ll find out how good I am because you are not spending the next six weeks cooking.’
‘What else am I meant to do?’ She laughed, because teenagers needed feeding constantly. She was always opening the fridge door and despairing at the empty shelves she’d seemingly only just filled.