‘Technically, it wasn’t me. I gave Seb a list of everything I thought we’d need, and he brought the basket down to the boat first thing.’
‘That was kind of him.’
‘That’s Seb for you.’
‘You two seem close.’
Harry laughed. ‘You don’t mean?’ She looked at me, shook her head, and gave another throaty laugh. ‘Seb’s my cousin, on my mother’s side.’
So I’d misjudged that one, not that it made any difference to me. ‘He owns the farm too?’
Harry shook her head. ‘No, it was my paternal grandparents who left the farm to me.’
‘Has it always been called Lowen Farm?’
‘Yes, my granddad named it. Lowen means happy, or joyful in Cornish.’
‘The name seems very appropriate for this place.’
‘Not if you’re running it,’ said Harry with a chuckle. ‘This place comes with its fair share of stress, trust me.’
‘I’d like to help, if I can.’
‘What did you do before you arrived here?’
My cheeks turned pink, though not with the cold. ‘Nothing, really. I did housework and raised my son.’
‘That’s not nothing. Raising a child is the most important job in the world, and you seem an expert at it if my day spent with your son is anything to go by.’
‘Thank you. He’s pretty special, but I know I’m biased. I’m not demeaning my work as a mother, but when I was younger, everyone expected more from me. I expected more.’
‘So why didn’t you go for it?’
‘When I got married, my husband didn’t want me to work. I was happy to stay at home with Bertie when he was little, but now he’s eight, and out at school from eight until five…’
‘Eight until five?’
‘Private school.’
‘Ah.’
‘Yes, it’s a long day, but with a long commute, which makes finding a job that fits around it tricky. But it also means I havelong hours filled with nothing more than a bit of laundry and dusting. My husband even employed a cleaner, so most of my days were spent twiddling my thumbs.’
‘Nice life if you can get it.’
‘I know. I sound really ungrateful.’
Harry laughed. ‘No, you sound like an intelligent woman who fancies filling her time with more than dirty underwear. I couldn’t live like that. I’d be bored out of my mind.’
‘Yes, but boredom’s the least of my worries now. Ironing pairs of pants won’t pay the bills. By not working for the past eight years, I’ve left myself completely unskilled and unqualified for most jobs. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Somehow, I need to find money for rent, not to mention getting Bertie enrolled in a new school.’
I lay back against the pontoon, the weight of all my worries pinning me down onto the wood. The past few days had been a welcome distraction, but I had to face reality again soon.
‘Why have you only planned to stay here for two weeks?’
‘Because whatever I am, I’m not a freeloader. Also, I’ve no idea what’s going on with my husband.’
‘What do you mean?’
