‘You do know that Gil’s moved into a crappy old caravan?’ Harriet was staring at her phone again.
‘He’s what?’ Pippa laughed, shoving away that thought about Gil. It was an awfully good thing Harriet couldn’t read her mind, although sometimes Pippa wondered. ‘A caravan? Where?’
‘Like, duh! In the yard.’
‘He hasn’t?’ He wouldn’t dare. But Pippa knew he would. He very much would.
Harriet pointed to the window triumphantly. ‘See for yourself if you don’t believe me.’
‘Of course I believe you, it’s just… A caravan?’ Pippa got up and went to the window, and her mouth fell open.
She had little experience of caravans, having never stayed in one, but didn’t doubt that this one, sitting slap bang in the centre of the yard and no doubt visible from every window at the back of the house, was the most miserable and ancient caravan she’d ever seen. It had probably been white, once, but had now faded to a muddy sort of grey with a broad and dulled burgundy strip running around the middle.
The two windows she could see were more rust than metal, one covered by a patterned net curtain, the other a metallic-looking blind, half raised at an angle. One tyre was squashed flat, and the door lay open, revealing a glimpse of dark carpet. Lola was curled in a comfy bed on the cobbles, soaking up the sun. If Gil was trying to invoke yet more sympathy from Harriet, then he was no doubt succeeding, and Pippa took a hurried step back when he appeared at the window behind the blind in case he spotted her staring.
‘This is all your fault, Mum! You made him move out of his own home.’
‘Harriet, I did not.’ Pippa turned away, bright spots of colour rising in her cheeks. ‘Gil offered to go. And the house does actually belong to your grandfather, whether you, me or Gil likes it or not.’
She wondered if squatters in caravans had more rights than sitting tenants. Surely not? Could she legally make him shift the caravan out of the yard? And if so, would he simply move back into the house, if only to irritate her? Perhaps she could have the caravan towed away but she really didn’t have the heart for such underhand tactics. If they hadn’t got off to such a rocky start, she would have been perfectly amenable to him staying on in the house for now. She needed to track down the solicitor and it would be Monday before she could do that.
‘I’m not sure why you feel so strongly about his situation when we know little about it. Or why his living arrangements are our fault, or our problem. We are here to sell the house and go home as quickly as possible.’
‘Sell?’ Harriet looked up sharply from her phone. ‘That’s what you’re going to do? You said we were coming here to sort it out.’
‘And we will. I’m sorry for whatever difficulty Gil is in right now, but it’s not our problem. He offered to move out and now he’s gone.’ But not far enough, sadly. Pippa decided she needed to keep her plans about selling entirely to herself, seeing as Harriet was now firmly on Gil’s side and until she’d established what rights he actually had. ‘I would very much appreciate you not laying the blame at my door. It may surprise you to learn that not everything is my fault.’
She saw hurt flaring in Harriet’s face and immediately regretted it; this was not the way to reach her and breach the distance between them.
‘Let’s have a think about tomorrow, yes?’ Pippa made for the door. ‘I think our first adventure might be cooking dinner in that kitchen. Coming?’
‘I’ll be down in a bit.’ Harriet’s fingers were trembling around her phone. ‘Sorry.’
Chapter Eight
Back in the kitchen, Pippa set about cooking dinner. She went to the cupboard where she’d found the pans this morning, only to discover that they’d disappeared, and only one bowl, side plate and dinner plate remained. She hurriedly checked the others in case she’d put them back somewhere else after washing them. The draining board was also empty, and she yanked open the cutlery drawer to be greeted by the sight of a single knife, fork, spoon and teaspoon.
She slammed the drawer shut, stormed through the back door into the yard and across the cobbles. Lola jumped up to greet her and Pippa offered her a single cursory pat as she thumped on the caravan door, trying to ignore Lola’s wagging tail and urgent attentions. A few seconds slid by, and her right foot began to tap as she stared at mouldering green and orange curtains. Lola gave up and settled back in her bed as Pippa applied her fist to the door a second time.
‘I’m not deaf and Lola’s not the only one trying to sleep. What is it with you and waking people up?’ Gil appeared, rubbing a hand over rough stubble. ‘What do you want now?’
‘You know what!’ Pippa’s neck was uncomfortable from having to tip it back so far and she jabbed a hand to a mug and plate sitting on the draining board. ‘You’ve taken all the pans and the crockery from the house!’
‘No, I haven’t.’ That mocking smile was playing on his lips, and she wanted to swipe it from his face. ‘If you look properly, you’ll see that I only took one of everything. I brought Lola’s bowls as well, I wasn’t sure you’d find a use for them.’ At the mention of her name Lola looked up and thumped her tail.
‘But there’s two of us! Me and Harriet, and you knew we were coming. You’re being ridiculous! And selfish and mean and…’
‘And what?’ Gil leaned against the door frame and folded his arms. ‘That stuff is mine and I need it.’
‘So do I! How am I supposed to cook tonight, now you’ve done this?’
‘I’m afraid that’s really not my problem. The contents of the house do belong to me, and I would’ve brought more if I could fit them in here.’
There was no folding step to split the distance between the caravan and the cobbles, and she loathed the advantage this extra height afforded him. ‘But the shop is shut, and they don’t sell plates and pans anyway. I have no idea where the nearest town is and…’
Pippa was ready to weep, and her jaw felt like it had been set in concrete as she took a step back. Right now if she’d had a tow bar on her car, she would’ve hitched up the damn caravan and him in it, and dragged them both out into the middle of nowhere. She fumbled for her phone in a pocket, realising too late that there was no signal. And she certainly wasn’t going to ask him for the Wi-Fi network so she could google alternative plans for dinner.
He yawned, sliding a large hand over his mouth. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to bed.’
