Chapter Eleven
When Cassie ventured downstairs she found Raf in the kitchen cooking bacon on the Aga, and she watched for a moment, unseen.
‘I hope I can expect this level of service every morning. That smells amazing.’
‘Morning.’ They shared a smile as she bent to greet Flynn in his basket and the wolfhound’s tail thumped. ‘I thought it might be nice. Gordon always cooked on our first day.’
‘That’s a lovely thought. Thank you for remembering.’ A tradition they’d all loved, waking up in Galloway and coming down to a hearty breakfast.
‘How did you sleep?’
‘Really well, thanks. The bed was very comfortable.’ She went to the fridge and found the orange juice she’d brought, holding up the bottle as he flipped eggs. ‘Would you like one?’
‘Please. Isla and Rory have already eaten and disappeared with their friends.’
‘So I heard. No wonder it’s quiet in here.
’ Flynn came over and she gave him a cuddle, smiling at his inquisitive head level with the table.
‘Sorry, you have to go back to bed when we eat,’ she told him gently.
‘It’s not fair to torment you with food under your nose.
’ Raf had mentioned he was teaching Flynn to stay in his bed with a treat at mealtimes, a habit she had to follow too.
‘So is this how you like to spend your Saturday mornings now? You’ll be reading the papers next and buying slippers. At least it’s something new for your Instagram, domesticated Raf.’ She caught the sardonic glance he threw her. ‘Your followers must be lapping it up.’
‘Not anymore, they’re not.’ He pointed to a fresh sourdough loaf on the table, crumbs scattered around it. ‘Help yourself. I got some of that butter you like from the shop as well.’
‘You really are going to ruin me,’ she said helplessly, picking up a breadknife anyway. ‘So why won’t your followers like this?’
‘Because I’ve deleted my Instagram.’
‘Seriously?’ Cassie paused slicing as her gaze snapped up. She tried hard not to look at Raf’s Insta now, and the algorithm had obliged by showing her fewer posts. ‘I thought you liked it?’
‘I do. I did.’ He shrugged as he slid bacon and eggs onto plates already half full of mushrooms, tomatoes and baked beans. ‘I decided I was done. It takes up too much bandwidth, I guess. It was fun when I was in the band, but now that’s over I want a more private life.’
‘Who are you and what have you done with Raf Jones?’ She wondered if he’d always had those laughter lines around his mouth, or had she simply never noticed them before?
And had he always looked at her that way?
As though he could read her mind and understood her every thought before she’d even had it.
He brought their food over and she sliced more sourdough, dropping some onto his plate. He’d already set out brown sauce and ketchup, and she squirted a blob of brown onto her own, pulling a face when he added brown sauce and ketchup to his bacon butty, a habit he’d taught her children.
He explained more about the local youth group he planned to meet as they ate, which gathered weekly in the village hall.
Afterwards, once Cassie had finished unpacking and exploring the garden with Flynn, she was ready for a stroll into the village.
She offered to fetch shopping so she could cook this evening, and Raf accepted on the understanding that it wasn’t her job to feed everyone every day, suggesting all four of them shared the kitchen duties.
He stayed behind to work, keeping up with his online distilling course.
She changed her boots and found Flynn’s lead, actually a harness that went over his head and fastened around his chest. Once she was satisfied he was comfortable, they set off.
It really was like walking with a small pony at her side, and although he was interested in his surroundings, he didn’t pull or try to tow her along.
He attracted a few curious glances from people they met, and one or two stopped to admire him.
He was very polite and well behaved, and she made sure to tell him so.
The church and school next door were in sight as she approached the village, dappled sunlight glinting between a row of chestnut trees.
In places, cow parsley was still flowering gamely, flattened flower heads drifting in a light breeze.
Occasionally Flynn raised his head in sight of something, and she clutched the lead a bit tighter as he stilled.
But each time he relaxed again and settled at her side.
She paused at the church noticeboard and read about the community corner every Wednesday afternoon and the adult and toddler group which met in term time.
A couple was sat on a bench on the village green, sharing drinks from a flask and tucking into chunks of what appeared to be crumbly fruit cake.
She wasn’t hungry after the breakfast Raf had cooked, but cake always sounded good.
Especially on holiday. Perhaps Hartfell had always been this lovely, or more likely she hadn’t been looking properly before.
Kenny was deadheading perennials in planters outside the pub, and when she went over, he cheerfully reminded her that he’d booked the family a table for lunch tomorrow. Pippa’s gallery was opposite the pub and Cassie had arranged to meet her there later, after seeing Fiona and Gordon.
She said goodbye to Kenny and carried on, spotting Edmund down the lane outside his cottage, and raised a hand.
He waved back as the door to the cottage beside his opened, and a young woman hurried out.
Cassie recognised Erin, Gil’s business partner at the practice, as she leapt into her pickup and took off, presumably on call and heading to an emergency.
Her partner Oli emerged from the house, and he came over the moment he spotted Flynn, admiring the wolfhound and asking how he was settling in.
They talked about the ponies at the farm, and once they’d parted, she continued to her parents-in-law’s new home a mile from the village.
Work was very much underway when she arrived, with two vans and a huge skip parked in the driveway, a pair of builders in discussion with Fiona and Gordon outside the front door.
Gordon waved and Fiona escaped to greet Cassie and Flynn, their two Labradors racing over to inspect this new arrival.
Cassie tightened her grip on Flynn’s lead, but Bramble and Briar sniffed him curiously and wandered off as Fiona made a quiet fuss of him.
She had met Flynn before, when she and Gordon had gone to see Raf’s house.
Much as she loved it, she told Cassie ruefully, she worried about him having only rented it for six months and moving on again at the end of the summer.
Cassie filed those comments away as Gordon took her on a tour of the bungalow and the latest developments while Fiona made coffee.
They sat outside to enjoy it away from the dust, with a fresh batch of Fiona’s melt-in-the-mouth shortbread.
It wasn’t a surprise to learn that the builders were keen to be on site when Cassie discovered that Fiona was serving them brunch and afternoon tea every day.
She thought the move was genius, especially as Fiona had promised to cook them a full Christmas dinner with all the trimmings if they finished on time.
Her parents-in-law were exploring the possibility of a short holiday in Bath, somewhere Fiona had always wanted to visit in honour of her love for Jane Austen and Persuasion in particular.
Cassie brushed a few crumbs onto the grass, and Bramble and Briar leapt to hoover them up.
Flynn hadn’t budged and she reminded him what a good boy he was.
Thank goodness she still had six weeks of his company left.
It was way too early to think of the sadness when she’d have to leave him behind and return to London.
Last night she’d watched as Rory took a photo of the instructions on the hefty bag of dog food in the boot room so he could enlarge the print to make it easier to read and feed Flynn himself.
They chatted for a while, and once she’d said goodbye, Cassie set off back to the village.
Lunchtime was approaching and she wanted to stock up before the shop closed.
Hartfell’s only shop was run by Violet, who had lived in the village her entire life, and her younger sister Daphne.
Inside the white-painted building, once the front room of a cottage, Cassie found the usual array of goods.
Much of the local community depended on the shop for groceries, parcels, home baking and news.
She shared a greeting with Daphne and enquired after Violet, who lived with dementia and with Daphne’s help, still managed to bake something most days.
Cassie picked up ingredients for a simple chicken curry this evening.
Another fresh sourdough loaf made its way into her basket – Rory went through toast like some children ate sweets.
She couldn’t resist an apple pie and a pot of cream from a local dairy as well, Raf loved it.
Being sensible could wait for next week; she was on holiday.
Bags heavier than she’d planned, she said goodbye and crossed the lane with Flynn to the gallery.
Once a coaching inn and then a youth hostel, the rooms upstairs had been converted into a community space with a kitchen and a new cafe opening out onto a terrace overlooking a compact walled garden, borders filled with evergreen shrubs and pastel-coloured perennials.
She recognised Pippa’s touch everywhere, from the subtle lighting to the personally chosen range of greetings cards and gift wrap.
Pippa made sure to offer art appealing to a range of budgets, and much of her new ceramicist’s work sold almost as fast as it arrived.