Page 54 of Finding Home in Hartfell
After Cassie dropped Harriet back and spent a night int Hartfell with Isla before heading north to her in-laws, Pippa would have little reason to remain here either. Miles had been in touch again and was pressing her to decide about putting the house on the market. She would put him off until Harriet returned, not ready to make such a thing formal just yet.
She’d read the local history book that Edmund had loaned her, taking pictures of anything to do with Ivy on her phone and googling in spare minutes at the vets. She hadn’t learned anything more; it seemed that Ivy’s life as an ordinary farming wife and mother had placed her in the background of history, and she was frustrated by the lack of progress on Ivy’s paintings. She’d tried art auction websites and contacted a couple of friends, who’d also come up blank. Ivy had captured Pippa’s interest – the relative who’d possessed a gift she hadn’t been able to fully explore and one that Pippa felt had been passed down the years to her.
Wandering back through the garden, she stopped dead at the sight of a hot tub on the terrace wrapped in a giant pink bow. Maud was alarmed by the huge beast that had appeared and barked stoutly before running back to Pippa’s side. There was only one person who could have had this delivered and then installed so quickly. She returned to the yard, picking up enough signal to call her dad, and left a bemused thank you message, aware it was nearly one a.m. in Australia.
She spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in the garden as Maud dozed, feeling a real solid burst of contentment for the first time in weeks. Harriet was having a blast with her best friend, Maud was a delight – even if Pippa did have to keep wiping up the accidents – and then there was Gil…
She was in the kitchen when he returned, trying to decide what she might like for her birthday dinner. They shared a polite greeting, and he fed both dogs and refilled the water bowl as Pippa stared inside the fridge, all out of inspiration. It was looking very much like pasta and roasted vegetables again.
‘Happy birthday.’
‘Thank you. I didn’t realise you knew.’ She’d left all her cards in her bedroom, not wanting to advertise the fact, or that she was without family to celebrate it.
He smiled, holding out one hand. ‘Harriet told me. She asked me to give you this.’
Surprised, Pippa accepted the envelope he was offering, a small muddy paw print dark against the white. Inside was a card, beautifully drawn in what she recognised as her daughter’s style. ‘That’s so sweet! It’s a homemade voucher for dinner at the pub, from Maud.’ She gulped back the emotion, such a simple and yet wonderful gesture. ‘I think this might be my favourite present.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting the massive hot tub wrapped in a pink bow on the terrace?’
‘Oh yeah. I love the voucher, though.’ The pub was a much nicer idea and Pippa abandoned thoughts of pasta, deciding to change out of the vest and shirt she’d been wearing all day.
‘There is a catch, though.’ Gil’s eyes narrowed and she halted, about to pass him.
‘Oh?’
He nodded at the envelope in her hand. ‘Harriet asked me to take you, so I’ve booked a table for seven.’
‘Harriet did?’ Pippa’s pulse skipped as other thoughts danced into mind. ‘The pub? With you? Tonight? For my birthday?’
‘I think yes is the correct reply to all those questions,’ he said dryly. ‘She didn’t want you to have to spend the evening on your own. Is that okay? Do you reckon we can eat dinner together in public, seeing as we’re doing okay in private?’
‘I think we can certainly give it a try.’ It was too late to pretend she didn’t love the idea and she glanced at the ancient kitchen clock, somehow still ticking along.
‘I need to change.’ She had forty minutes before their table would be ready and she wanted to do more than replace her top now. ‘What about the dogs?’
‘I think they can sit this one out.’ Gil glanced at Lola and Maud, squashed up in one bed and perfectly content. ‘I’ll take them in the garden and see you down here.’
‘Thanks.’
It’s not a date, she told herself firmly as she ran upstairs. It was just a kind and thoughtful gesture from Harriet, and he was indulging both of them, which was nice. She decided on the only dress she had brought with her: a green off-the-shoulder one that would have been perfect for many of her social events in London but was still a little dressy for the Pilkington Arms. She added pumps and a denim jacket, keeping it casual, and plum lipstick, mascara and her favourite perfume.
Back in the kitchen she was surprised to see that Gil had also changed out of his usual work gear, and she simply wasn’t prepared for how stunning he was in jeans and an ivory shirt, floral details on the collar, cuffs, and top pocket. The colours highlighted his vibrant blue eyes and suntanned skin, and she swallowed as she became aware of his own gaze running over her.
‘Ready?’
She nodded and he opened the back door, gently telling Lola to stay put when she whined softly. He hadn’t voiced his approval of her appearance and she hadn’t needed it; it was in his eyes, enough to have butterflies skittering through her stomach, skin warmed by that heated look.
She felt wholly conspicuous at his side as they walked through the village. Dorothy roared by on her quad bike and did a double take, almost wiping out a planter outside the pub. They both laughed, but Pippa couldn’t help wondering what his aunt would make of this development in their relationship, having the uncomfortable sense she would not approve.
The sign gently swinging outside the pub was another reminder of Gil’s connection to the village, the family they’d once both had in this place. Kenny was delighted to see them, and they were soon settled at a quiet table in the restaurant, away from the bar, busy with summer visitors soaking up sunny evening vibes.
‘So tell me why you’re named after the pub.’ Pippa was busy with the menu, it was easier than catching Gil’s gaze on hers.
‘How do you know the pub isn’t named after me?’
‘Really?’ She raised a brow. ‘You’re infamous, then? Or should that be notorious?’
‘Nah.’ A young waitress had arrived at their table, and he waited for Pippa to choose a drink. She went for the local gin she’d had before, this time with a rhubarb and raspberry tonic and Gil settled on a glass of red wine. ‘It’s a family thing. My other grandmother was a Pilkington, her brother owned the estate.’
