But on reaching the farmhouse, Selina stopped dead, face to face with Grace, and put down the case.
The two young women stared at each other, roughly the same height, and then Selina stuck out her hand. ‘Hello, how do you do? I’m Selina Tiptree.’
‘Grace Morgan.’ They shook hands. ‘Nice to put a face to the name. I’ve heard so much about you since I got here. You’re quite a legend, in fact.’
Selina’s thin brows arched, and she shot an enquiring look at Caroline. ‘I can’t imagine why. Unless people have been telling tall tales about me.’
To Caroline’s relief, Peter returned at that moment with a case in each hand, clearly struggling. ‘Let me carry one of those, Peter,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Come along, I’ll show you to your rooms. It’s too dark now for a proper tour, but ifyou’re up early enough in the morning, I’ll show you around the farm before work. There’s so much you’ve missed since the summer, Selina … We had another litter of pigs – ten piglets this time – and Joe’s just built a new coop for the chickens. You remember the roof was forever leaking on the old one?’ she rattled on nervously, ushering her guests inside. ‘This way.’
Once she’d shown Selina into Mrs Newton’s room, and installed Peter in his own cramped bedroom, Caroline hurried downstairs to make tea and cut some cake to sustain them until dinner time.
Tilly had been out with the pigs, whom she loved visiting. She returned just as Selina and Peter came downstairs. ‘Hello, stranger,’ Tilly said enthusiastically, hugging Selina. ‘And you must be Peter,’ she added, grinning at the boy beside her. ‘I had quite a different idea of what you’d look like. When Caro said Selina was bringing her nephew, I pictured a little boy in short trousers. But you’re all grown up. How old are you?’
‘Fourteen.’ Peter looked pleased.
‘Would you like to see the pigs?’ Tilly asked him. ‘I’ve just taken off my boots, but I can put them back on.’ She looked him up and down, pulling a face. ‘Though you might get muddy. Do you mind?’
‘Not a bit,’ he insisted, and glanced at his aunt.
Selina nodded. ‘Go and enjoy the pigs. I remember when Pinky had a litter, and they were gorgeous. Little wriggling piglets everywhere. You’ll love them, and they’re not as smelly as everyone thinks. Just try not to tramp mud back into the kitchen or Violet will have fifty fits.’
He laughed and followed Tilly out into the yard. Momentslater, as Caroline, Selina and Grace were sitting around the table with tea and cake, another car pulled into the yard.
The door opened to reveal the Postbridges, back from a trip to the village. ‘Please don’t get up,’ Joe said in his jovial way, coming across to shake Selina’s hand. ‘How are you? Is that your car out there? It’s a nice looker.’
‘Yes, I just bought her. She runs like a dream too.’
Violet came puffing in, unwinding her scarf. ‘It’s getting bitter out there again. I think we’ll be due more snow soon. How do you do, Selina? We’re very glad you’ve come to stay. But where’s this nephew of yours?’
‘Tilly’s taken him to meet the pigs,’ Caroline told her.
‘I hope he likes beef stew.’ Violet brought a lidded casserole dish to the table in her gloved hands. She lifted the lid slightly to peer inside, and fragrant steam filled the kitchen. ‘I had some errands to run in the village, so I put this stew on in the kitchen out the back of the shop. Left it to cook for a few hours, and then collected it on our way back up. I’m sure Mum won’t mind.’
‘Why are you telling them only half a story, love?’ Joe winked at the girls. ‘She had to brave her Aunt Margaret to do it, didn’t you, love? I was amazed there were no fisticuffs.’
His wife threw him a fulminating look. ‘When you’ve finished saying daft things, maybe you can fetch some firewood and stoke up the range. It’s running low.’
Still grinning, Joe did as he was bade.
‘I love beef stew, Mrs Postbridge,’ Selina assured her politely, ‘and Peter does too. Though he’ll eat anything you put in front of him. He’s got the appetite of a horse.’
‘Boys that age always do,’ Violet said, chuckling. She bent to slip the casserole dish into the range and closed the door.‘I heard he had trouble at some fancy boarding school,’ she went on. ‘Got himself in a spot of bother there, didn’t he?’
‘He had trouble fitting in, yes. But it was only a few months after he’d lost his mother,’ Selina pointed out, bristling as she defended her nephew, ‘and I believe some of the older boys bullied him.’
Violet hesitated, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘I don’t like bullies.’
‘Me neither,’ Selina said shortly.
‘Though I don’t hold with boarding schools myself. It ain’t natural, separating a child from their family. You’ll be glad to have him back with you, I daresay.’
‘Yes,’ Selina agreed, ‘and Peter will do much better with a tutor. We could also try one of the local schools if he’s missing company his own age. For now though, it’s enough that he’s home and safe.’
‘Amen to that,’ Joe rumbled, and stole a slice of cake while his wife’s back was turned.
‘And now you’ve, erm, brought him to the farm for some peace and quiet, is that right?’ Violet pressed her, unloading vegetables from her shopping basket, clearly still unhappy that a child who’d been expelled from school was being foisted on her well-run farmhouse, even if there had been a good excuse for any bad behaviour.
Caroline saw Selina’s gaze narrow suspiciously on Violet’s back and worried that she might be planning to snap at her. ‘Exactly right, Mrs Postbridge,’ she said quickly, forestalling her friend. ‘And maybe one day he’ll need to know how a farm is run and animals looked after. So it’s a kind of education, you could say.’
