But right now, that hand was being offered to me. How could I resist it?
We slid into the wide circle of dancers, me gripping onto Pip as if my life depended on it. Feeling someone else take my other hand, I turned to find Gabe beside me. It made sense that Pipwould position me next to someone I’d already met, but it didn’t help in my attempts not to stumble. As the bodhran thumped a furious beat, we stomped and spun, I was passed from one hand to another, around and in and out of the circle but always returning to Pip’s flushed cheeks, glowing gaze and firm grip.
‘Okay?’ he asked as the tune came to an end with a final flourish, the circle breaking apart to clap and cheer and bend over with hands on hips, gasping for breath.
I nodded, my own lungs heaving, but as the band struck up the opening notes of the next reel, Pip leant close to my ear and suggested we take a break, asking if I’d like to see more of the farm.
We had to move well away from the raucous dance floor before it was quiet enough to ask if it was okay for him to abandon the party.
He scanned the garden, those guests not dancing all deep in conversation, or, in the case of Iris and Hugh, entwined in a hammock, rocking gently beneath the emerging stars.
‘No one will miss me.’
I didn’t think that was completely true. Celine was talking to Lily and Violet, but her head was twisted in our direction. For obvious reasons, I wasn’t about to point that out.
Pip led me across the lawn to the pond, winding around the side to a gate leading into a meadow beyond.
‘Are we going to need a torch?’ I asked, aware of the lengthening shadows. ‘You know where you’re going, but I’m only a mainlander, remember?’
Opening the gate, Pip waited for me to walk through then came alongside me. ‘It’s fine; we’re following a proper path.’ He then paused. ‘But I hadn’t thought about you feeling uncomfortable going for a walk with me if it gets dark… We could see if anyone else wants to come?’
‘No, it’s fine,’ I replied, quickly. Any nervousness at being alone in the deepening dusk with Pip had nothing to do with feeling unsafe. ‘As long as I don’t accidentally step off the edge of the cliff and drown.’
‘Nah,’ Pip said, with a playful grin. ‘You’d smash to bits on the rocks before you had a chance to drown.’
‘That’s okay, then.’
His smile softened. ‘I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.’
I absolutely believed he would. But, for all sorts of reasons, that made it impossible to relax.
We wandered along the edge of the meadow, on a dry, dusty path sloping gradually downwards towards the coast. Pip showed me the neighbouring fields where the cows and Basil the bull lived, weather permitting.
‘They’re grass-fed, so need more space, but the produce is worth it.’
‘You use the calves for beef?’
‘We do.’
‘Do you eat it yourself?’
He frowned. ‘I’m a farmer, Emmie. I wouldn’t raise cattle if I wasn’t prepared to consume the products. Although…’ he ducked his head, sheepish ‘…that doesn’t mean I don’t take myself off for a wee cry every time we send them to the abattoir, mind.’
‘What else do you farm?’
‘Free-range chickens, we’ve a small pear orchard that goes to Siskin cider, and a few different vegetables and grain depending on the season, crop rotation, that kind of thing. Oh, and the sunflowers for the tourists. We do pick your own through August and most of September. It’s humiliating how much profit that makes compared to the crops we harvest ourselves.’
We reached a stile at the end of the field, and he took my hand to help me down, as the far side was swathed in shadow. Tomy secret delight, as we began descending a steep path made up of broad, sandy steps, he didn’t let go.
‘We hear a lot about farmers struggling to make ends meet. Is it the same on the island?’
‘For some. Most are coming up with ways to make it work, though, like with the sunflowers. We’ll have more breathing room once the bed and breakfast is running. Lily will pay the farm a share of the profits, instead of taking out a mortgage. Intensive farming has never been an option here, so it’s always been a careful balance between a business that’s viable now and sustainable long-term.’
He chatted for a while about some of the ideas he’d picked up from his master’s course about Smart Agriculture, occasionally breaking off to point out a landmark, a nearby dwelling or a wild animal enjoying the dusk.
Even with my limited understanding, it was clear that farming was fraught with difficult choices, further complicated by the whims of Irish Sea weather, and mainland food fads.
What was also clear was how deeply engrained this life was in Pip, and how passionately he cared about ensuring his family legacy survived for generations to come. I understood how a family business was about so much more than earning a living.
