‘I’d noticed.’
‘I’m not anorexic. There are people at school who are, and I know I’m not.’
‘I never thought you were.’
‘I got these viruses last year, one after another, and I couldn’t seem to pick myself up. Post-viral syndrome, the doctor called it. Mum and Dad argued a lot about whether I should go to school on days when I was really tired. When I’m stressed out, I find it difficult to eat.’
‘I can understand that.’
‘You understand a lot of things. Granny does, too. I want to get strong for her.’
Jules moved around the table and wrapped her arms around Tasha’s thin frame. She smoothed back her hair and kissed her on the forehead.
‘And she wants to get strong for you and Will and your dad and between the four of you, you’ll get there. Granny’s a determined lady. She’ll be almost as good as she was before, but no more climbing that ladder to the loft. You’ll have to put a stop to that. I think she’ll listen to you.’
Tasha nodded and Jules pulled away a little.
‘You’ll call if you need me?’
‘We’ll be fine. Mum’s just across the yard. Not that she’s much use in a crisis, but at least she’s there and Dad and Will are in the near field. I can see the combine from the yard.’
Jules picked up the box of produce and headed for the door.
‘Jules,’ Tasha called after her, ‘thank you for being here, for being my friend.’
Jules smiled.
‘Always, Tasha,’ she said. ‘I hope we’ll always be friends.’
Jules was stacking up the empty egg cartons and arranging the full ones on the table when Lance’s car turned into the top of the driveway. Erin waved from the passenger seat, but Lance looked straight ahead. She felt completely deflated as she emptied the honesty box and put all the money into a little leather purse to give to Rita later.
‘You have done the right thing, Jules,’ she said to herself as she arranged the courgettes in an artful pile and tilted a couple of the raspberry punnets so they were easily visible from the road. If it hadn’t been for Rita and that rash decision to look after her, which she didn’t regret for one moment, she would have been back in Manchester and the whole situation would be out of sight, out of mind. He wouldn’t be just down the road, and shewouldn’t be lying awake at night in Rita’s spare room thinking about him, wondering if he was also lying awake thinking about her. Except love didn’t work like that, did it? It didn’t go away just because you changed location.
‘Jules!’
The sound of his voice calling her name sent a jolt right through her. He was striding up the driveway, kicking up dust and stones in his rush. The sun was beating down and she hadn’t got a hat. Why did she always leave her hat behind when she needed it? There was an extremely irritating wasp circling her basket of figs, too. She batted it away. There wasn’t room on the table for the basket. She should have put it there first. She was going to have to rearrange a few things and she felt irrationally hot and flustered.
‘How are you?’
He had reached her now, but thankfully wasn’t standing too close. She didn’t think she could bear that. He was wearing a linen jacket over his shirt. He must be hot, too, but he looked pale and drawn.
‘I’m okay. You?’
‘Bearing up.’
There was an awkward silence.
‘Are you on your way home – to the cottage, I mean?’
‘Yes. I go back every afternoon around two when Rita has her rest.’
Of course he knew that, which was presumably why he’d been dropping Erin off at the farm a little later so as to avoid them bumping into each other.
‘You’re early today.’
‘Rita’s tired. She’s had loads of visitors and phone calls.’
‘I’ve got another appointment with my accountant later so thought I’d drop Erin off early, too.’
