‘And when the six months is up?’ Pippa felt the beginnings of a headache. No wonder Gil disliked her so much and assumed she’d been sent here to sell the place from under him, believing her as devious as her dad. A glimmer of sympathy followed before she reminded herself that none of this was her fault.
‘We just don’t know, it’s all up in the air.’ Elaine stood to deal with the client, brightening the monitor into life. ‘And no matter what Gil says, Pippa, I’m very glad you’re here. He’s just as stubborn as your dad, and I’m hoping you can get the pair of them to see sense and work something out.’
Time seemed to slow as the chap paid for his cat’s treatment, a course of antibiotics and a follow-up consultation was booked for the following Saturday. Elaine sorted him out with quiet and friendly efficiency, and then he was gone, the cat still mewling as the door closed behind him. Wendy emerged from the consulting room and said her goodbyes too, disappearing out into the yard.
‘So has Gil always worked here, then?’ Pippa asked casually.
‘Yes, for his entire career. He’s a Yorkshireman through and through.’ Elaine collected their empty mugs and took them through to the kitchen, washing them in the sink. Pippa followed and found a tea towel to help. ‘Thanks, Pippa. He was born here, but moved to Dorset when his mum wanted to go home. His dad left the farm and went down with them.’
Pippa’s mind was running over the brief conversation with Daphne in the shop earlier, the mention of Jonny and Gil’s dad Bryan being best friends. A growing sense of unease niggled, that whatever Elaine said next might very well impact the future of Home Farm and the practice.
‘It was so dreadful, what happened to Gil’s mum and dad.’ Elaine sighed as the water in the sink burbled away. ‘I’m afraid he lost them when he was seven, they drowned in a sailing accident. Afterwards, he moved back here to live with Ruth and Eddie, his grandparents. His mother’s family wasn’t in a position to look after him and they weren’t keen on his dad anyway.’
‘Drowned?’ The word was a whisper and Pippa felt the adrenaline rush of shock and sympathy. Despite her own loss, she couldn’t equate her secure and comfortable life to Gil losing both parents at such an early age. She was twisting the tea towel between her fingers, trying to force down all the questions she longed to ask and that weren’t her business.
‘I’m afraid so.’ Elaine’s nod was resigned. ‘There was no question that Ruth and Eddie would take him. Bryan was her only child and she never really got over the loss. I think she and Gil saved each other, in a way. She had a young boy who desperately needed a secure and loving home, and he gave her a reason to go on after Bryan and then Eddie.
‘They were very close, adored one another. Hard to imagine, isn’t it, what life must have been like for him then. The estate let Ruth keep the lease after Eddie died so she and Gil could farm it together, and she lived here for the rest of her life. Then when she passed last year, the farm went up for sale and unbeknownst to Gil, who was trying to find a way to keep it, someone else stepped in and bought it. We found out later it was your dad.’
Pippa was almost sorry she’d asked now. Emotions were leaping through her mind and she was trying to cling on to them, to process them before another one barged in. Frustration with her dad, worry for how she was going to proceed here, and sympathy; another rush of it for Gil and the tragic childhood forced upon him. She knew so well what devastating loss felt like.
‘Your dad and Bryan were a bit older than me, but I remember them well.’ Elaine smiled. ‘Your mum, too, when she came here with your dad. She was beautiful and Jonny adored her. I’m sorry you lost her so young.’
‘Thank you.’ Pippa’s smile was a reflective one as she put the tea towel back, wondering what else she might learn from strangers who seemed to know as much, if not more, about her own family history than she did.
Her dad used to talk about the first house he and her mum had bought from the proceeds of playing clubs to top up the earnings he made in the furniture factory. He liked to remind his children that he’d saved every penny he could to buy that house and he was glad that they didn’t have to scrimp and save liked he’d done to get a good start in life.
There was so much Pippa didn’t know and she’d learned not to push him about life before her mum had died. His eyes would fill with tears, and he’d swiftly change the subject. Somewhere deep down she’d realised that didn’t help her, Raf or Tilly, but as a teenager stumbling through the new life thrust upon them, she hadn’t known what else to do. He’d loved their mum and Pippa had clung to that as a comfort to them all.
And now here she was, in this tiny Dales village she’d barely ever heard Jonny speak of. It wasn’t difficult to imagine him and Gil clashing over the future of the farm, metaphorically banging heads and making no progress. Her dad was pretty easy-going, but when he refused to back down, he rarely gave way. Another flare of frustration with him followed; no wonder he hadn’t wanted to sort out Home Farm himself and instead had launched her into his fight.
What she couldn’t understand was why he’d bought the farm in the first place, especially when he’d barely ever mentioned it to the family and seemed intent on moving Gil out. And why sell it again now, when Gil so desperately wanted to keep it? Although Jonny hadn’t actually said it was to besold. He’d asked her to sort it out, and right now she felt as though she’d uncovered something that could turn out to be a complete nightmare.
‘Thank you for sharing that, about my mum,’ she said quietly, trying to gather her senses and not let them overwhelm her. ‘That’s so sad, about Gil’s family.’
‘It is, not that you’d ever hear him complaining or letting you think he’d been hard done by.’ Elaine sighed as she put the two mugs into a cupboard. ‘Even I’m not really meant to be here. I’m retired, I only came back part-time to help him out. I lost my husband a year ago, to motor neurone disease, and we’d always planned to travel. I’d still like to, but I can’t leave Gil, not until I know everything’s settled. It’s the least I can do for him.’
‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Pippa whispered, a wave of nausea churning in her stomach. That had been the disease which had taken her mum too; she might need that tissue after all.
‘Thank you, Pippa, that’s very kind.’ Elaine sniffed, offering a bright smile. ‘However much you think you’re prepared for it and you don’t want to see them suffer anymore, nothing’s quite like the reality of being left on your own. Learning to get used to the silence, cooking for one, trying not to mourn the things you thought you’d do together.’ Her hand was gentle, brief, on Pippa’s arm. ‘Gil’s desperate for more time to raise the money. He approached your dad to ask for another three months and Jonny said no, that he was sending someone to sort everything out.’
‘I see.’ Pippa flushed, she’d better keep her search for an estate agent quiet for now, it really wouldn’t do to let that get about. ‘Elaine, could I ask a favour please?’ She didn’t dare ask Gil, not after what she’d just learned, and hoped his receptionist would be amenable to her plight. ‘I’m assuming you have Wi-Fi here and I wondered if you’d mind my daughter Harriet popping in to use it, please? She’s missing her friends without it and of course she has some homework to do.’
‘Absolutely, she’s very welcome.’ Elaine pointed to a door off the kitchen. ‘We have an office through there and I’m in the surgery four mornings a week. We’ve got high-speed fibre broadband in the village now and it’s made such a difference, especially for families and opportunities to work from home. We need young people here, to keep the school open and the community evolving. I suppose you have a key so you can come and go, and we do have very strict drug protocols in place.’
‘Actually I don’t, I just have keys to the house. It’s probably better if we don’t have a key to the surgery. I’m sure Harriet will be very grateful, as am I, and of course she’ll only be here under supervision.’
Pippa didn’t quite cross her fingers about Harriet being grateful, but the thought was there. Monday was a very long time away from Saturday in a teenager’s world, especially where Wi-Fi was concerned. But some Wi-Fi was a significant improvement on none.
‘Thanks, Elaine, I really appreciate it. And for letting me know about the history here.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Elaine stepped past Pippa to return to her seat in reception. ‘I hope it’s helped, given you a picture of the place, as it were.’
‘Absolutely.’ Pippa’s mind was still spinning after all she’d learned. She flashed Elaine a smile as the older woman shut down the computer and tidied her desk. Her attention jumped to the main entrance as the door opened and a woman she swiftly recognised as the one driving the quad bike earlier strode towards them.
In complete mockery of the sunshine outside, she was wearing a full length waxed green coat so creased that Pippa almost expected it to creak. Unfastened, it revealed what appeared to be a quilted gilet underneath, gathered at her waist with orange twine. The coat hung stiffly around dark trousers that might once have been the bottom half of a man’s suit, tucked into green wellies. Without the hat, a lined and suntanned face was revealed, intelligent and bright blue eyes sharp beneath grey hair spilling from a loose bun perched on the top of her head. Tall, upright and lean, she shot Pippa a look that made it clear what she thought of people who were foolish enough to step into her path.
‘Gil back yet?’ she bellowed at Elaine, and Pippa wondered quite how far away she thought the receptionist was; that voice could have woken Harriet in the house. ‘No sign of the Landy.’
