‘But you’re the pasty girl he’s always going on about when he comes home?’
‘Um. I do sell pasties, yes…’
‘Only a matter of time, then.’ She flopped back, lifting the book to her nose again. ‘You’re smaller than I expected. But a lot prettier.’
‘Oh?’
What had Pip said that made her think I wouldn’t be pretty?
Never mind that –Pip had been saying things about me?
She turned her page. ‘Well, you look nice. And he’s… Pip.’
‘Are you being rude about your uncle?’ Lily scolded. ‘To his new friend?’
‘She can see what he looks like. And if anyone mentions pasties, he goes quiet and awkward like Barnie when he’s trying to tell Auntie Violet he loves her.’
Lily spun around, a kettle in her hand. ‘What? Are you talking about Barnie Cork?’
‘Or what, all the other, non-existent Barnies living on this island?’
‘When did he tell Auntie Violet he loves her, and why on earth did no one tell me?’
‘I said hetriedto tell her, Ma.’ The girl rolled her eyes, still reading. ‘He always gets shuffly and stammery when she talks about how she wants to go travelling. Then he starts going on about all the reasons she should stay. Apart from the biggest reason, which is him being in love with her. Do you people notice nothing?’
‘We notice that it’s nearly nine o’clock on a school night, and you’re not in bed,’ Malcolm said in a lilting Welsh accent. ‘If you spent more time concentrating on your own business rather than snooping into other people’s, you might not have another after-school correction tomorrow.’
‘Ugh! I was answering Ma’s questions. If I’d walked off, you’d have moaned at me again for being rude.’ She rolled off the sofa and stomped out.
‘That was Flora,’ Lily said. ‘Twelve going on seventeen. The only child on the island who gets in trouble for reading too much.’
Malcolm got up and took a couple of glasses off a high shelf. ‘I know Lily’s put the kettle on, but I’m wondering if wine would be more suitable to the occasion. Low alcohol, in honour of those of us gestating a baby or driving home later.’
Before I could answer, Pip appeared in the doorway. ‘It’s looking great up there.’
He exchanged a brief half-hug with Malcolm.
‘Had a good nosey about?’ Lily poked him with a corkscrew. ‘Not hard to guess where Flora gets it from.’
‘Back in April, the upstairs was a pile of plaster dust and rubble. Now it’s all, “show Emmie to the yellow room”. Of course I had a nosey.’
They carried on swapping banter until Lily handed me a glass of white wine. Malcolm pulled back the sliding door and ushered me outside to a large patio, with two dining sets and a more informal seating area around a coffee table.
‘How’s the garden getting along?’ Pip asked, once we were all settled on the comfier seats. I’d carefully chosen an individual chair rather than one of the sofas. I still felt whisked up in a whirlwind, and sitting beside Pip would have made it even harder to act normal.
‘Come on, little brother, we have far more interesting things to talk about than the garden,’ Lily said, with a wink in my direction.
I automatically glanced at Pip, our eyes catching before his darted away again.
‘Yeah. I was going to see if I could catch Mammaw, but now I’m wondering if it’s safe to leave Emmie alone with you.’
Lily spun towards him so quickly, she sloshed wine over the edge of her glass. ‘You haven’t seen Mammaw yet?’
Pip squirmed on his seat like a naughty schoolboy. ‘She was napping when I got back to the farm, and then I went to find Emmie…’
‘Wait. What? Instead of bringing Emmie with you to the farm, youlosther?’
Pip turned to me. ‘Our grandmother is ninety-one. She’s normally in bed by now but will be waiting up for me. Is it okay if I head off, or do you want me to stay and explain to my sister, who has the audacity to accuse me of being nosey, that you’re not on the island with me?’
