‘Of course you have to do what’s best for your family.’ Rose found a smile. ‘I’ll have a word with Alfie, make sure he knows Harriet’s not likely to be here all summer.’
It wouldn’t be fair to let Harriet and Alfie think otherwise. However much they liked each other now, feelings would change once their lives reverted back to normal and they were hundreds of miles and worlds apart.
‘Thank you for inviting Harriet over to eat with you. It was very kind, and she loved it.’
‘Oh, she was most welcome. With my brother and his family, plus Alfie, getting taller by the minute and constantly hungry, there’s always plenty.’
Under normal circumstances, Pippa wouldn’t think twice about reciprocating. She felt incredibly mean, not inviting Alfie round just because Harriet wouldn’t be staying in Hartfell. And would that really make a difference, as though the lack of a meal at Home Farm would be the deciding factor in their budding romance? She decided on another suggestion instead.
‘I thought I’d take Raf to the pub tonight. He’s heading back to London tomorrow and Kenny’s desperate to meet him. Would you and Alfie like to join us?’
‘Oh, we’d love that! Thank you.’ Rose’s pleasure made Pippa feel she’d done the right thing, but still, she couldn’t shake off the doubt clutching at her heart at having to take Harriet away. She prayed she wasn’t making things worse, inviting Rose and Alfie along too, and she knew from Harriet that Rose was a single mum like her. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course. Kenny’s booked us a table for seven p.m., does that work for you?’
‘Totally. I’ll let Alfie know the minute I see him. Thanks so much, Pippa.’
‘You’re very welcome, it’ll be lovely to see you both again.’
Rose smiled at someone over Pippa’s shoulder and, from the goosebumps springing up on the back of her neck, Pippa knew exactly who it was without having to look.
‘Hi, Gil.’
‘Hey, Rose. How’s that heifer doing? Alfie said her foot was much better.’ Gil paused beside Pippa, Lola’s lead looped over one hand, and smiled at Rose.
‘It is, she’s back with the herd, not lame anymore. Thanks for sorting her out.’
‘My pleasure, it’s what I’m here for.’ He narrowed his eyes as he looked at Pippa, sending a quiver darting down her back. ‘I thought you were avoiding me on purpose. So, are you ready to find out how important the practice is to the farming community here?’
‘And why would I be avoiding you?’ She forced every degree of casualness she could muster into her reply, hoping it sounded more offhand than she felt. ‘Maybe later. I’ve got Raf to find first.’
Chapter Thirteen
Raf was a person possessed of a gift that made him beloved wherever he went. Whether it was the barely hinted at sensitivity beneath the rock-star image, his effortless dress sense or his natural charm – making women want to mother him (amongst other things) and men want to be like him – Pippa had never quite been able to fathom. To her, he was still the little brother she adored, and they were fiercely protective of one another. She very rarely asked him to present his public self on her behalf, but she’d known he would do it for precisely the same reasons she would. Because he loved her and knew she was in need.
He was mobbed by the crowd the moment he arrived at the show, and he posed patiently for endless selfies, friendly chats, and autographs. He visited every stall, high-fived children, and charmed elderly farmers, who were bemused by a handsome and tattooed stranger in their midst as he presented what she knew to be an entirely fabricated interest in the various breeds of sheep on display.
Raf took his turn on the high striker and rang the bell three times, hit the target on the dunking stool and sent Alfie sprawling into a tank of dubious-looking water, making Harriet roar with laughter, and caused a kerfuffle in the craft marquee when he learned the WI chair lovedStrictlyand spun her into a quick waltz. She’d had to sit down after that and was overheard denying that a stiff gin had been required to bring her round.
Pippa had promised that an hour of his presence would be enough, but he seemed in no hurry to leave and sent her an apologetic grin when he was invited onto the small stage. The band were only too keen to make way for him, and he settled behind the drums, drawing a large crowd as he warmed up. He played a brilliant, improvised set, with the band joining him for half of it, and she was grateful that he kept his shirt on, to the obvious disappointment of a very vocal group of women who looked as though they’d stumbled into the show straight from a hen party.
He played three encores, finishing with a Blue at Midnight classic track before leaving the stage to huge cheers and another queue for selfies, signing programmes and a few T-shirts. She was just relieved there were no breasts; she couldn’t imagine that was an image the show committee would choose to go viral. Pippa decided he’d be fine on his own for a while, she couldn’t get near him anyway. She’d been invited to the WI tent by the chairwoman to present some prizes and headed over, intending to walk right past the vet’s stall until Gil called out.
‘When are you taking a turn?’ he taunted. ‘I thought you’d be first in line after the week you’ve had.’
‘At what?’ She turned a shoulder, eyeing him with suspicion.
‘That.’ He pointed to wooden stocks set up between the two rows of stalls. Someone she recognised as a client who’d brought in a poorly rabbit this week was inside and making the best of being pelted with wet sponges. A week ago she’d have run a mile rather than stick her arms and head in there and she laughed, overcome by a sudden madness.
‘I will if you will.’
‘You’re on. You first.’
Pippa watched as Gil excused himself from colleagues and left Lola fastened to a handy table leg to stride over. She was remembering his hands on her shoulders the other day, the rapid beating of his heart against her back and how she’d instinctively known he hadn’t wanted to let her go.
‘Oh no,’ she said nervously, wondering what she’d let herself in for. ‘I’m not falling for that one. You’ll soak me and then disappear before I get to return the favour.’
‘Are you suggesting I’m not a man of my word?’ He halted in front of her, their gazes tangled, daring her to deny it.
