He has no idea,thought Pippa. If Wolfie spent any time with the people of this town he’d know he was wrong. He possessed a wilful ignorance about it. “Grantham cares about you, doesn’t he? Joan too.” Wolfie stilled, allowing her a tight nod. “So how can you say people don’t care?”
“That pair aside, trust me when I say that people, as a rule, don’t,” Wolfie uttered darkly.
“Well, they probably would if you actually let them in,” Pippa said. “You might be surprised.”
Wolfie lifted fathomless eyes to hers. “And also, I might not.”
Pippa didn’t know what to say. All her life, she’d looked at this house, at the family name and wealth, and imagined a life that was so perfect it could only be unreal. Yet it was all too clear looking at this beautiful, broken man before her that that perfection had been a long-running and ugly facade. But Pippa couldn’t be the one to fix that damage for him. She suddenly felt very tired. “You know what? I had the worst kind of heartbreak forced upon me this year,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I lost everything. My home, my love. All of it. For the longest time I hid at my cousin’s place—”
“You were hiding?” Wolfie interrupted.
“Yeah!” Pippa nodded. “I didn’t know what the point of anything was. I had no future. It was like being on a long, painful road with no destination in sight and I couldn’t face walking down it. But eventually I did. I had to.”Pippa’s own words resonated around her brain. Because despite the wine fog, she knew she was right. “And I’m so glad I did.”
“Why?” Wolfie asked.
“Because it led me here,” she said. Wolfie frowned and Pippa hurried to elaborate. “Every day has been hard. The trying, you know? But the trying is what got me off that stupid, pointless road and onto, like, a nice road. One with flowers and stuff. A road that’s actually got a hope of leading me somewhere good.” Wolfie’s face remained impassive and Pippa suspected she sounded a bit waffly. “I’m happy,” she clarified.
“Good for you,” was all Wolfie said.
Pippa sighed. Maybe there really was no getting through to him and never would be. “If I were you, I’d appreciate all that you have in this moment. Because take it from me, there might come a day when it’s all snatched away from you.”
Wolfie stared at Pippa for one long second, his jewelled eyes unreadable. Just when she thought he might say something, his shoulders slumped, and he turned away from her. Dismissed, Pippa left the room and stomped up the stairs, frustrated and ready for bed.
From the depths of the library, the piano music resumed.
ChapterSeventeen
Pippa’s head was sore, and the cockerel was not forgiving, his morning shrieks relentless. She’d lain painfully awake since dawn, desperately trying to get back to sleep but her throbbing head, along with the joyous cockerel, wouldn’t let her. Had she really charged into the library and drunkenly forced Wolfie to open up about his torturous past? And what had all that nonsense about a road been? She shoved her head under the pillows, begging for peace, but her mind still churned with the memory of his pained face, interspersed with the occasional reminder of the way he looked when soaking wet and clad only in a towel. With a groan, Pippa wrested herself to a seated position and checked her phone, letting out another moan when her diary flashed a reminder for her meeting with Mae and Erin about the Summer Fair in a couple of hours. It was probably sensible to get caffeinated if ever she were to survive the day.
Conscious that Wolfie might still be lurking around the house, Pippa made sure to brush her hair and teeth before venturing downstairs in sweatpants and a thick hoodie. She might have been desperate for a coffee, but she was just as keen not to look as hungover as she felt. As she trudged downstairs, she wondered if her drunken outburst had offended Wolfie. What if he asked her to leave as a result? She hoped she hadn’t upset him too much, especially after he’d divulged some home truths about his father.
Pippa entered the kitchen, beelining straight for the kettle. As she touched it, apprehension took over; it was quite warm, clearly recently used. Her hackles went up; Wolfie was around. She fetched a mug and made coffee as quickly and quietly as possible. If she could just get her drink and hibernate upstairs until she felt ready to face him, that would be ideal. But as she turned to leave, movement in the garden caught her eye.
There, in the glory of the early morning sun, was Wolfie and he appeared to be … gardening? Pippa almost dropped her mug in shock when she realised that whatever it was that he was doing, he was doing it on her vegetable patch. He wore a mucky vest and tatty sweatpants, with dirt streaked through his hair. His task was clearly infuriating him; his cheeks were red, and Pippa could lipread the curses from where she stood. All thoughts of coffee forgotten, Pippa darted out of the kitchen and flitted across the lawn that was still damp with dew.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
Wolfie started at the sight of her, dropping the huge fork with which he was wrestling.
“Morning!” He raked a hand through sweaty hair, leaving trails of mud across his forehead. Panicked, Pippa looked down at the vegetable patch, praying he hadn’t added to the damage that Percival had inflicted. Following her gaze, Wolfie was quick to explain. “Thought I’d try and make up for what that Smith fellow did. Repair the damage.”
“You’regardening?” She choked out the words in surprise.
“Yes!” he said, then shrugged modestly. “At least, I’m attempting to.”
“I didn’t realise you knew anything about gardening,” Pippa said curiously.
“I would have thought it’s very obvious that I don’t, despite Grantham’s best efforts,” Wolfie replied sheepishly. “But how hard can it be?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a battered old paperback. “Found this in the library and stayed up half the night reading it for tips.” Pippa took the book from him. It wasn’t one she’d read during her garden research.
“Mrs Meekin’s Wartime Garden?” she read. “How to grow your own and defeat the enemy from the safety of home!”
Wolfie picked up the fork and plunged it into the soil. “I admit it’s a little dated. But there were some useful tips in there. Great chapter on radishes.”
Pippa wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or not. “Why?” was all she could say.
Wolfie gulped. “Because I wanted to show you how sorry I am.”
“Sorry?” she repeated.
