‘Mum, aren’t they lovely?’
‘They are.’ The two boys did look very sweet, and Pippa took a step nearer as the brown alpaca eyed her right back, making a noise a bit like expelling air. She held out a hand, unable to see his eyes properly underneath a fluffy topknot. Dorothy was saying something, and Pippa glanced at her.
‘Don’t touch his face, he—’
Pippa’s hand was hovering and with lightning reflexes, the alpaca launched an evil-smelling blob right onto her chest. ‘Oh!’ She stared at the green stain spreading across her top.
‘Spits,’ Dorothy finished. ‘Naughty boy, Rupert. Remember that, Harriet, if you don’t want him to spit on you. Shoulders and back only, not his face.’
Harriet was choking back laughter, clearly trying not to startle the animals. Pippa shot backwards in case the naughty boy fancied another go, taking the stink with her. Straight into Gil, whose hands landed on her shoulders.
‘Steady,’ he said quickly, and she heard the grin in his voice. No doubt he’d enjoyed that too. The hot sting of tears rushed into her eyes; even the wretched alpacas hated her. All she wanted was to go back to her lovely life in London and prevent Harriet getting hurt in any physical or emotional sense, not stand around here being attacked by unruly animals and laughed at by Dorothy and an irascible vet.
‘It’s only the contents of his stomach, I daresay it’ll wash out eventually.’ Dorothy said briskly, treating Rupert to a back rub that Pippa felt he didn’t deserve.
‘You okay?’ Gil’s voice was low in her left ear, and she wasn’t expecting his hands tightening on her shoulders as she stumbled again, the heat of his body startling and sudden against hers. She nodded hurriedly, freeing herself from his fingers warm and gentle, sure on her skin. Was that a deliberate touch or just a means of soothing her after the shock?
‘Mum, we’re going to see the sheep.’ Harriet barely glanced at Pippa as she left the pen and Dorothy fastened the catch. ‘Dorothy said they’re Soays, descended from the feral sheep that used to live on St Kilda. There are lambs too, born in spring. They’re a rare breed.’ Harriet looked over her shoulder, already following Dorothy, the four dogs skipping ahead.
‘Pity alpacas aren’t,’ Pippa said shakily. Her smile for Harriet was a tremulous one, her thoughts caught on Gil and those last few moments; his chest firm against her back, arms brushing hers. She forced one foot in front of the other, giving Rupert a wide berth and a wary look. ‘Let’s go, then.’
‘Can I stay for a bit, Mum, please?’ Harriet hung back to walk alongside her. Pippa saw the light in her daughter’s eyes and knew there was no refusing. ‘I’ll be back in plenty of time for dinner, I want to help Dorothy feed the animals.’
‘You can stay this afternoon and then let’s talk properly tonight, Harriet.’ It wasn’t a question and Harriet nodded grumpily. ‘There are a few things we need to consider.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like how long we’re staying in Hartfell, for one.’
‘Well, you’re helping Gil at the vets now and we have to stay until Elaine gets back.’ Harriet shrugged. How simple she made everything sound, but Pippa had a sinking feeling that their being in Hartfell had suddenly got a whole lot more complicated.
Gil gave Pippa a single, unreadable stare and excused himself, pleading work. He jumped into the Land Rover with Lola, and Pippa was relieved to follow Dorothy along another track towards more fields.
‘Don’t worry.’ Dorothy halted and placed a hand on Pippa’s arm. She stared at it, nonplussed by the older woman’s brusque tone and kinder words, and realised she was talking about Harriet. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her.’
The roar of an engine had everyone turning to see a tractor pulling into the yard, a huge trailer loaded with plastic-wrapped bales attached to it. The cab door opened, and a teenage boy jumped down, followed more slowly by a man, maybe late thirties. If Vikings did farmers, then Pippa strongly suspected that this strapping pair would fit the bill.
Tall and probably blue-eyed to boot, the teenager’s hair was white blond, and he had the kind of looks that made girls – and probably some boys – behave very much as Harriet was doing now. Usually so confident and assured, Pippa saw her pulling her phone from a pocket with one hand and flicking her long hair over a shoulder with the other, trying to look more nonchalant than she clearly felt. Pippa’s heart plummeted even further when the boy grinned at her and Harriet smiled shyly back, warmth tinting her face pink.
‘This is James and his nephew Alfie.’ Dorothy tilted her head before resuming her stride. ‘Farmers,’ she added, quite unnecessarily in Pippa’s opinion. ‘Thanks chaps, you know where to go, the Dutch barn around the back. I won’t be long, I’m just showing Harriet around the place. She’s helping me out.’
‘Well, it’s not exactly decided yet, Dorothy.’ Pippa hadn’t even merited an introduction and the last thing she needed was another reason for Harriet to want to hang around here. Now, one had just jumped down from a tractor and probably stolen Harriet’s heart as well, if the look on her face was anything to go by. She’d had a boyfriend at Easter, but he’d been more of a mate with whom she’d had a few dates before they’d decided to revert their relationship back to the friend zone. Alfie was an altogether different prospect.
With another smile for Alfie, one that he returned before dropping his gaze to examine his boots, Harriet managed to drag herself away and caught Dorothy up. Pippa lagged behind, alternately marvelling at Dorothy’s energy, and cursing the number of animals she had tucked in every corner of the farm. She must be eighty if she was a day and reluctant though Pippa was to let Harriet come here regularly, it was obvious why Dorothy needed the help. Chickens and ducks were free range, scratching through the muck heap, and a grey cat eyed them warily from the top of an open bale of haylage, a couple of adorable kittens leaping around her.
Heading out of the last barn after the grand tour, they came across Alfie in the tractor, unloading the bales with some kind of pronged attachment into an open-sided barn, lifting and storing them with easy efficiency. Harriet dug out her phone from a pocket and was soon videoing him, no doubt to share with friends. Dorothy left them to talk with James, still swaddled in her hat and gilet, despite the mild air.
‘So, what do you think, Mum?’ Harriet’s eyes were shining when she dragged them from Alfie long enough to glance at Pippa, who hadn’t missed him grinning every time he caught Harriet watching. ‘Can I come and help Dorothy, please? I’ll be careful, I promise, and I’m sure she’ll give me lots of training.’
Pippa seriously doubted that, and she tried not to sigh. ‘Just please don’t forget that we’re going home soon, and you mustn’t get attached to any of the animals.’ Or boys, she added mentally, determined to take her own advice. At least Harriet would agree that her mum was too old for all that nonsense now.
The bales were off the trailer now, safely stored in the barn, so Alfie cut the engine and got out. He and Harriet were sidling towards each other, drawn like magnets, and Pippa felt another clench in her heart at yet more evidence of Harriet growing up. Her daughter definitely needed an outlet for her energy but if she formed an attachment to Alfie, then Pippa had absolutely no idea how she would get her back to London without a battle.
Chapter Twelve
Pippa was glad to finish at the practice on Friday the moment the last patient had left, and she offered Gil a hasty goodbye and made her escape. She still hadn’t gone public with her plans for a surprise at the show tomorrow, and she wouldn’t, not until Raf was actually here in person. Commitment, except to his music, was something her mercurial brother was not prone to. There was still time for him to change his mind, or for the lift he’d been promised in a helicopter from a mate of a mate to fail to materialise. At the far end of the next-door field was a flattish area marked out for car parking tomorrow, and she was crossing everything in the hope that the helicopter would be able to land without any difficulty, or anyone really noticing.
Harriet had finally returned at eight p.m. last night, after having messaged to say that Dorothy had invited her and Alfie to stay on for supper, and did Pippa mind? Pippa did rather, but had more sense than to say no. She’d toyed with still going to the pub but had decided not to; she wasn’t sure she could face the village alone until the show was safely over and the day done.
