Wolfie’s mouth twisted. “I was old enough, Pippa Munro. Old enough.”
“That’s so young,” she said.
“I know.” Wolfie settled back on his heels and glanced towards the damaged wall. He seemed to be mulling over his answer. “It just seemed like the thing to do.”
“You must have had plenty of options. Why that?” Pippa knew Wolfie had had the best education money could buy and although the military was a very respectable career choice, it was at odds with the solitary, music-loving boy she remembered from all those years ago. Enlisting so young seemed to her a drastic act of rebellion.
“Whynotthat?” He rose to his feet, eyes fiery, and Pippa got the sense that the topic was very much off limits. It seemed as if he might say something else, but then a voice piped up from the library, calling his name. “Shit.” Pippa realised theTop Stayteam were still here. Wolfie extended a hand and helped Pippa to her feet. “You feeling okay?”
Pippa nodded. She felt a little woozy but now the injury was bandaged tight it was better. “Nothing a glass of water can’t fix.”
As Wolfie hurried back to theTop Stayvisitors, Pippa made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of water. Her hand throbbed in time with her beating heart, and she hoped the injury wouldn’t leave a scar. As she drank, Pippa found herself replaying the brief discussion with Wolfie. Once more, she’d got a glimpse of something real underneath that aloof carapace. Why did he need to guard himself so carefully?
Pippa heard theTop Stayteam leaving and after finishing her water, she gathered a dustpan and brush, plus some kitchen towel to tidy up the shards of glass safely. As she passed the library, she heard Wolfie’s voice reverberating through the hallway.
“Listen, it’s what needs to be done,” he was saying. Instinctively, Pippa held her breath and softened her steps, somehow understanding he wouldn’t want her hearing this.
“No, I know.” Wolfie was soothing whoever was on the other end of the phone. “I know you think that, but I want to do it.”
Pippa’s insides churned. The tenderness in Wolfie’s voice, the kindness with which he spoke, it was so at odds with the man she knew that it stopped her in her tracks.
“If I could give her the moon on a plate, I would. You know that.” Wolfie sighed, almost dream-like. “She gets the best. I’ll do anything for her.”
Pippa had to turn away. That call could be interpreted many ways, but it did sound like Wolfie was selling the house to please someone – a woman – he loved. His girlfriend? Maybe there were no debts and Mae’s assumption was wrong. Maybe the money was intended for something else, something that was none of her business. Grumpily, Pippa wadded the glass up with paper towel, and stomped out to the bins to dispose of the broken glass. If Wolfie was selling such a beautiful house purely to impress a woman, then there was something truly wrong with this world.
Once outside, Pippa took deep breaths and looked out across the driveway to the moors. The rolling green looked vivid under the overcast sky, and she wondered if it might rain. The beautiful scenery calmed her, as it always did, but her fingers twitched with the need to be busy. Glancing back at the house, she saw Wolfie’s silhouette pacing past the window and Pippa knew she couldn’t go back in there and listen to him smugly boasting about how he was going to callously have Squires razed, all to please some selfish gold-digger. No, Pippa craved the fresh air, and it was then she remembered the vegetable patch. Instantly soothed by the thought of it, she hurried round to the back of the house, determined to put all things Wolfie-related firmly behind her.
ChapterThirteen
The next day was even cooler than the one before, with blustery winds bringing the rich smell of heather in from the moors. Pippa found herself rushing through the day’s tasks – intensive bathroom cleaning – purely so she could spend some more time in the garden. She told herself she’d have just an hour or so outdoors then she could spend the rest of the day planning the Summer Fair.
She braved the grimy greenhouse with its army of beefy-looking spiders and found some twine, using it to fix the raspberry plants to the half-buried canes, and they were now looking a little happier. Some new weeds had already sprung up and she gleefully ripped them out. Then, using a small gardening fork, she poked holes in the soil. The Merry Garden Girl – her new favourite blogger and gardening expert – recommended doing this for an untended bed. Todd had kindly donated a small tub of his stinky mulch and even though the stench of it turned her stomach, Pippa slopped it on top.
“There you go, little plants!” she cooed excitedly. “Drink up the delicious shit—”
“Are you seriously talking to vegetation?”
Mae’s voice from behind her startled her so much that the tub of mulch slipped out of Pippa’s hands and fell to the ground, splattering her leggings all the way up to the thigh. “Damn!” She instinctively swiped at the mess, forgetting it was animal faeces, only to almost pass out when she realised her hand was coated in it.
“Sorry!” Mae flapped around her. “Didn’t mean to startle you and oh—!” Her eyes watered and she took a large step back. “Wow, that’s … ripe.”
Pippa grimaced. “Don’t worry about it. I’d hug you but I’m afraid you’ll catch, like, cholera or something.”
“Isn’t it ringworm you can get from that stuff?” Mae covered her nose with a sleeve.
“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” Pippa chanted but then retched again. “At any rate, a multitude of gross germs are currently swarming all over my favourite leggings. Oh God.”
“Favourite leggings?” Mae eyeballed them incredulously. “Love, I know you never had much time for fashion but come on. Those leggings are the clothing equivalent of a lobotomy. Wemusttake you shopping.”
“Frankie does keep threatening to do that.” Pippa had always found it hard to really care too much about fashion. “You know, not everything I wear has to be worthy of Vogue.” For a brief moment she thought of the lovely white dress she’d worn to please Alex that awful night he dropped the bombshell regarding Kent. No, it really didn’t matter what you wore, Pippa thought.
“Hard disagree. Anyway.” Mae lifted an accordion file above her head, eyes bulging at the weight. “Ready to do some organising?”
“Absolutely.” Pippa glanced down at herself and grimaced. “Let me clean up first.”
Whilst Mae settled herself at the kitchen table with paperwork and a cup of tea, Pippa hastily showered and changed into clean clothes. As she started to head downstairs with her trusty old laptop, she heard the pipes rattle. This wasn’t unusual in itself, but this did seem louder than normal. She made a mental note to tell Grantham. Or Wolfie, seeing as he’d stayed over the night before.
But all thoughts of noisy pipes left Pippa’s head when she saw the swathes of paper spread out on the kitchen table.
