‘You’re insufferable!’
‘Well, we can talk about that some other time.’ His phone was ringing, and he glanced at it. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, I’m busy.’
She took another hasty step back as he grabbed the door and shut it. Shocked by her uncharacteristic outburst and Gil’s response, Pippa stared at the caravan. Without pans or enough plates, cooking dinner was off the menu, and she made a snap decision to try the pub instead. They would probably even have Wi-Fi. She returned to the house more slowly than she’d run out of it to find Harriet, and let her know she was going out in search of dinner and would be back soon. Though she suggested they go together, Harriet firmly shut that idea down. She left through the front door, dreading the idea of another glimpse of Gil or that caravan right now.
The Pilkington Arms seemed to be dozing peacefully in the late afternoon sun, looking as golden and gorgeous as the rest of the lane it sat upon. Pippa pushed open the front door and stepped into a stone-flagged reception, a staircase set at the back of the panelled hall. A glance at the rooms on either side revealed the bar on her left and a restaurant to the right. She chose the bar, aware of curious eyes watching as she pulled out one of only two free stools, every table occupied.
Comfortable and contemporary tables and chairs sat well with dark blue walls covered in what she saw was excellent artwork; some modern paintings, others more traditional, and she resolved to have a closer look when she was in a better mood. A fire was laid but unlit and felt welcoming all the same, and the chatter was a pleasant hum, a distraction from the miserable thoughts chasing through her mind.
‘You look parched, darling.’ A handsome middle-aged man with cropped grey hair stood behind the bar and she dredged up a smile. Pale blue eyes were as friendly as his greeting, a beard barely more than stubble framing his jaw. ‘And I’m guessing it’s not a tonic water you’re after, not unless it comes with a hefty shot of gin.’
‘That bad, huh?’ Pippa huffed out a laugh, aware she sounded like Harriet. Her shoulders began to relax at his warmth, the tension gripping the back of her neck easing.
‘You’re Pippa, right? Up from London?’
‘Right.’ Here we go, she thought wearily. ‘Does everyone in the village know who I am and hate me already?’
‘Pretty much, in answer to your first question, and definitely not, for the second.’ He offered an arm across the bar. ‘Hi, I’m delighted to meet you. I’m Kenny, my partner Vince and I bought this place two years ago, he’s the head chef. We moved up from Brighton and it took a while to find our feet away from the city, so I know how you’re feeling. Hartfell’s a wonderful place when you get to know it.’
‘I’m afraid I’ll have to take your word for that, I won’t be here long enough to find out. Hi Kenny.’ Pippa shook his hand, her smile wry. ‘Thank you for your welcome, it’s very kind.’
‘My pleasure. And please just let me get this out there, I’m a huge fan of your dad’s and the band.’ Kenny laughed as Pippa pulled a face. ‘Saw them play that headline set at Glastonbury back in the day and I’ve never forgotten it. I know, sorry. You probably get that from everyone you meet.’
‘Not always.’ It was why Pippa had kept her married name, helping her to live a life away from the limelight Jonny loved. ‘And it’s very sweet of you to say so, he has a lot of fans, and he loves them all.’
It was true. Jonny always said the band would be nowhere without their following and they’d managed to attract new fans down the years. Including, it seemed, Kenny, who must be a good fifteen years younger than her dad.
‘So what can I get you?’ Kenny turned a shoulder to the bar, a young woman to his right busy serving another customer. Pippa’s gaze landed on a bottle.
‘Actually, I think I’ll take your advice and have a gin and tonic, the dry one please.’ She’d had no intention of lingering in the pub, a stab of guilt for Harriet lurking in the house swiftly following. But Kenny had been so nice, and she needed a bit of that right now.
‘Excellent choice, it’s a local distillery and our customers love it. I’d recommend it with Indian tonic or the rhubarb and raspberry if you fancy a sweeter twist.’
‘The Indian please. I’ll try the sweet one another time.’
‘Coming up.’ Kenny set to work, and Pippa was trying to remember when she’d last drunk before six p.m., even on a Saturday. Although Harriet generally used public transport to get around the city with her friends, Pippa still liked to be available for run arounds if required. Kenny placed a glass on the bar, and she picked it up, savouring a long, slow mouthful.
‘Gorgeous, thank you. Just what I needed.’
‘That bad, huh?’ They both laughed as Kenny repeated her words from a few moments ago. ‘Let me guess. You’re sharing Home Farm with Gil Haworth and he’s not happy?’
‘Wow, you’re good at this game.’ Pippa took another slug of gin. ‘Better than that. We’re not sharing the house because he’s moved out, taken all the pans and plates with him, and he’s still not happy. Neither is my teenage daughter. As far as she’s concerned, I might as well have been trying to rehome a puppy.’
‘Well, he does have rather puppyish eyes.’ Kenny, busy serving another customer, threw her a mischievous glance and she pulled a face.
‘Not you as well?’
‘He could charm the birds out of the trees, that one.’
‘We are still talking about the same person?’ She inadvertently swallowed a chunk of ice and coughed. ‘Gil Haworth?’
‘The very one.’ Kenny thanked his customer and returned to stand opposite her. ‘Just don’t tell him I said so, he has quite enough fans around here as it is. So why does your daughter feel so sorry for him?’
‘Oh, you know.’ Pippa tried to quash the sadness that Harriet hadn’t wanted to come with her to the pub. ‘She’s at the age when everything wrong with her life is apparently my fault. Not her dad’s, you understand, because she doesn’t live with him. He’s the fun one who lets her do what she likes and doesn’t nag her about homework or staying up late on school nights.’
‘How old?’ Kenny’s gaze was sympathetic, and Pippa liked him all the more. She wondered if the pub had any rooms free; maybe she could move in here instead and give Gil the house back. She bet Kenny would look after them.
‘Fourteen.’
