‘Is than an offer of the asking price,’ he said jokingly, and she laughed.
She didn’t have that kind of money just sitting there but she needed to say something that made it clear she was deadly serious about keeping the painting. ‘No, but I would if I could.’
‘Go on then.’ Miles shook his head, and she knew he’d be expecting a favour in return. ‘You can repay me by making up your mind about Home Farm and whether I can sell it for you. Or not, I’d like to know which.’
‘I’ll give you a final decision by the end of the week, I promise. Thank you so much, both of you.’ She looked at Edmund. ‘You’ll never know how much this means to me.’
‘All in a day’s work,’ he said cheerfully, rising slowly from his seat. ‘I’m delighted to have followed a trail and led you here. Linda remembered seeing the painting hanging on the wall when the building was still a public house, and we were rather lucky, that it has survived here so long.’
Outside on the lane, she thanked Edmund again and he set off back to his cottage with a satisfied air. She also thanked Miles a second time, declining his offer of a quick drink at the pub to talk about Home Farm. She rushed back to the house and stood Ivy’s painting on a cabinet in the sitting room. It would belong with her always, and she adored this precious connection to Hartfell through her great-grandmother and the gift they shared.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Dad! You’re an absolute nightmare, you know that, don’t you? Packing me off to Hartfell at a moment’s notice to do your dirty work.’ Pippa felt a rush of love for Jonny as he grinned back via her iPad screen. She’d messaged earlier and told him not to worry but she needed to speak with him urgently. Thankfully, Harriet was at Alfie’s and Gil out seeing farm patients, so she was alone in the practice. Jonny looked wonderful: suntanned and relaxed, a terrace and infinity pool behind him falling away to a blue ocean glittering in the distance. His grey hair was short and tousled, a brightly patterned shirt half undone.
‘Come on, Pips, you know you’re the light of my life, all of you. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it would be for the best.’
‘Best for you, you mean,’ she retorted, still touched by his words all the same. Jonny wasn’t given to emotional confessions and her frustration was already easing. She hadn’t seen him in person for months, but he was still her dad and she missed him.
‘So you’ve sorted the place out then, found the right solution?’
‘Right for whom?’
‘You and Harriet.’ He crossed one ankle over the other knee, looking slightly smug. Pippa knew from Raf that the band weren’t rehearsing the final leg of the tour yet, and she was struck once again by the weird combination of having someone so famous and often out of reach for a dad, and yet one who was so normal and down to earth in person. He looked fit and well, and she was sure he’d be practising yoga every day and keeping up with the work required to expend so much energy and adrenaline on stage whenever the band performed.
‘What about Gil?’
‘What about him?’ Jonny’s eyes darted away, as they always did when he had an ulterior motive or preferred to avoid a confrontation.
‘I take it that my “sorting out” the house didn’t exactly include turfing out your best friend’s son with nowhere to go.’ Pippa used her fingers to put quotes around those two words.
‘No.’ Jonny raised a shoulder, back with her. ‘But he’s a stubborn bugger and I had to do something to force his hand.’
‘So you refused an extension to his lease?’
‘Yeah. He kept insisting he’d pay market value for the whole place, but he was never going to raise the full amount and I needed him to see that. Part of the plan.’
‘So you sent me to help him see it?’ She shook her head, caught between exasperation with her dad, and sadness for Gil. ‘You don’t think a solicitor would have been the best person for the job? Someone who actually understands leases and land registry, all that stuff.’
‘Sometimes these things need a woman’s touch.’
‘It shouldn’t surprise you to know that women are solicitors too, Dad.’
‘I know, I had one once, but she gave up to write thrillers. Put me in one of her books and killed me off.’ Jonny roared, reaching for a large glass of water nearby. ‘Said I was her favourite client too.’ He leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. ‘So what do you want to do with the place? You know it’s yours, don’t you? The house?’
‘Mine?’ The air shot out of her lungs and her hand skittered across the iPad, blanking her dad from her sight until she clicked on the app again. ‘You’re not serious?’
‘Deadly. You know I never joke about money.’ Jonny took a long drink and put the glass down. This time the merriment and mischief in his gaze was gone. ‘There’s some legal stuff to sign once the land registry is sorted, but it’s your inheritance. You’ve always known the plan. One property for each of you and that’s your lot. The rest is going to charity, to the school. Nothing was ever handed to me or your mum on a plate, and you’ll all have to make your own way eventually.’
‘I know.’ Pippa was still trying to take in the reality of this news about Home Farm. Jonny had always been vehement that each of his children worked and earned their own money. He’d see them all right, more than that, but he wasn’t a bottomless pit of privilege and the new performing arts school he was funding was his way of putting something significant back into his old community.
‘So what’s the plan?’ He nodded at someone off camera, and Pippa saw her youngest brother and sister leaping into the pool with exuberant yells. She hadn’t seen them for ages either; they really did need to arrange a proper family get together once the never-ending retirement tour had played its final date. ‘You have got one, I take it?’
‘Of course.’ She let out a shaky breath. She’d sat up for hours thinking this over and hadn’t breathed a word to anyone other than Harriet, not until she’d had this conversation with Jonny and made sure everything was properly lined up. ‘I’ve put the house up for sale.’
‘You haven’t! But what about Gil, what’s he—’
‘Not Home Farm,’ she replied, very much enjoying that she’d managed to alarm her dad for once. ‘Mine, in London. I don’t want to hang about, so it’s priced to sell, and I’ve made an offer on something here.’
