Page 56 of Finding Home in Hartfell
‘Lola loves coming to work with you.’ They’d reached the front door and she opened it, remembering how unfriendly and gloomy she’d thought the house when she’d first seen it.
‘She does, she’s very adaptable.’ Gil reached the kitchen first and he grinned as both dogs leaped up to greet them as though they’d been gone weeks, not just hours. Maud shot out into the garden when Pippa opened the door, and an idea fell into her mind.
‘I thought I might open the champagne, seeing as it’s still my birthday for a bit longer,’ she said casually, aware of him coming to stand next to her as the dogs raced around. She waited a beat. ‘Would you like to join me?’
The silence lengthened and she knew his reply before he voiced it. ‘Pippa, I—’
‘It’s fine.’ She jumped in, trying to make his refusal matter less. ‘It’s getting late, and you must be tired after last night.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ She bent to cuddle Maud and stepped back to find a treat for both dogs, settling them in their beds.
‘Right, well, I think I’ll head up then,’ he said awkwardly, turning a shoulder to the hall. ‘Night.’
‘Night. Thanks for taking me tonight.’
Gil left but Pippa was not ready for bed. She grabbed the chilled champagne and Maud yelped in alarm when the cork flew off with a bang. Harriet had left a Bluetooth speaker on the windowsill and Pippa took everything outside and set it on the table. She poured a very generous glass of champagne and found a party playlist, the music exploding through the silence.
After the first glass, there didn’t seem much point in filling another and she necked the champagne straight from the bottle, kicking off her pumps to dance on the terrace, mangling the words to the tracks as she sang along. The back door was open but even the dogs had decided to leave her to it and were huddled in their beds.
She couldn’t care less when rain began to fall, laughing and swaying to the music still blaring, clinging onto the bottle between fingers feeling more disconnected from her hands with every moment. The fizz hit her bloodstream again as she belted out lyrics to Lady Gaga, dancing as though no one was watching. Except Gil. She squinted through the darkness and saw him standing in the door.
‘Go away,’ she bellowed, waving the bottle wildly. ‘This is a private party, and you didn’t want to come so you’re not invited now.’
He was walking slowly towards her, and she backed away, giggling.
‘How much of that have you drunk?’ He glanced at the bottle swaying in her hand.
‘Dunno. It’s very nice.’ Pippa closed an eye – seeing one of him was bad enough. She raised the bottle to peer at it, spilling champagne on the grass. ‘How much have I got left?’
Gil took the bottle from her and held it up. ‘Not a lot.’
‘Then I’ve drunk rather a lot. My new decade resolution is to drink more champagne and dance in the garden at parties.’
She attempted a twirl that in her mind wouldn’t have looked out of place onStrictly, but her legs didn’t feel quite right, and she bumped into him. His hands landed on her waist, steadying her, and desire burned through her body, crashing into her stomach like a punch.
‘Have you seen my birthday present?’ She pointed to where she thought the hot tub was. ‘Isn’t it lovely? But what the hell am I supposed to do with it?’
‘I think to get in is the general idea,’ he said dryly.
‘No shit, Sherlock.’ She hiccupped merrily. ‘Anyway, my real present was Dave Grohl. He sent me a message. Wished me a happy birthday. I love Dave, did I tell you? Always have. Always will. Sometimes you can’t fight these things.’
She wondered why she felt so uncoordinated and clumsy. Her feet didn’t seem to belong to her own legs anymore and the hot tub was a blur, the pink bow flashing like a neon sign past her eyes as she wriggled free.
‘Pippa, come on, let’s get you—’ Gil stepped forward again, hand outstretched.
‘Oh no, you don’t. I’m not finished partying yet. Oh look, it’s still raining!’ She squinted up into the night sky, laughing as the drops danced across her skin. ‘Never mind, I’m having a party and there’s no one here. I can dance naked if I want to.’ She tugged at her dress, yanking until it was off. She twirled it merrily and flung it onto the grass with a flourish.
‘You do know you’re probably giving Posy a headache with the din you’re making.’ His voice was impassive through the dark. ‘And you’re going to have a belter tomorrow after all that champagne.’
‘So? It’s my birthday,’ she told him indignantly. ‘I can do whatever I want. You only turn forty once. I’d never do this at home, Harriet would think I’d gone crazy. I have to keep the family together. Always in control, always sensible.’ Pippa wagged a finger at him. Rain was pouring off his face, drenching his shirt. ‘I didn’t come here to ruin your life, just to do what my dad asked and sort out his house. And I’m mad with him too, because he didn’t tell me about you.’
Words were tumbling from her lips, and she couldn’t measure any of them for sense before even more followed. ‘At least then I’d have been prepared. Because I can’t stop thinking about you and that’s really not why I’m here. So now you know, Gil Pilkington Howard, or whatever your name is.’
‘Come on, Pippa. Enough.’ He took the bottle from her hand as she twirled past him and turned it over, pouring the last of the champagne onto the grass. ‘Party’s over.’
Realisation was beginning to dawn, that she was barefoot in floral ivory underwear, soaked through, and she stumbled. Gil caught her before she hit the ground. She opened her mouth to tell him to let go and her gaze caught on his. She saw the flash of awareness again, felt the tingle that tore through her body as he stood her up. Her breath caught as he swiftly undid his shirt and pulled it off.
