‘I need a word, Pip, if you don’t mind.’
‘Maybe later?’ he replied, jaw tight.
‘I’d really like to talk to you first, before you go off with Emmie. Please. It’s important.’
The air in the barn had grown suffocating, making my head swim. It was all I could do not to flee, leaving Celine to spout whatever lies she’d concocted, but Pip was having none of it. He knew Celine better than most. I wondered if he, too, suspected she’d been the one to move the cake.
‘I said later.’
He placed a hand behind my elbow, catching my eyes to check whether I was happy to leave before carefully steering me through the clumps of people dancing and out of the oppressive atmosphere, into the glorious evening.
He waited while I closed my eyes and sucked in enough deep breaths of cool air to be certain I could walk without stumbling.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, once I’d opened my eyes. ‘I’m sorry if that looked like you were an excuse to escape Celine. I would have asked about a walk anyway, but if you’d rather not… You’ve had a long day.’
‘A walk sounds bliss,’ I said, straightening my shoulders. ‘It’s quite stuffy in there. I probably shouldn’t have drunk that last glass of wine before eating properly.’
‘You’ve not eaten?’
I wrinkled my forehead. ‘Only that earlier bite of pasty.’
‘Come on, then.’
I opted to wait outside the kitchen while he slipped through the door, appearing a moment later with two bottles and a paper bag.
We continued to the farmyard, the sounds of music and laughter growing muffled as we skirted around the muddier bits, and headed towards the orchard. Instead of passing through the gate, Pip turned to the side, stopping at the bottom of a huge beech tree.
Nestled in a giant fork where the trunk split into three was a wooden platform.
‘What do you reckon? Are you up for it?’
He gestured to the rickety wooden ladder with his chin. I slipped off my flip-flops and wobbled my way up.
‘I’ve never been in a treehouse before,’ I said as Pip inserted a thick slice of cheese into a bread roll he’d retrieved from the bag.
‘That’s a grand way to describe a few rickety boards and a railing.’
I accepted the rough sandwich and took a bite, instantly feeling better as I leant back against one of the giant branches.
‘Was it for playing in, or more serious farming purposes?’
‘If it had been for farming purposes, Da would never have let me get away with such shoddy craftmanship.’ He poked his foot at a wonky nail sticking out of a plank.
‘You built it yourself? How old were you?’ I shuffled up to allow him to sit alongside me.
‘About ten. Iris wanted to help, but I spent more time preventing her from falling off or hitting herself with the hammer than I did constructing the thing, so I mostly snuck out here on my own. Don’t worry,’ he added, spotting my nervous glance at the joints holding it in place. ‘Da checked it all afterwards. It’s held steady for nearly twenty years.’
We sat in silence as we ate, Pip opening two bottles of lemonade, a refreshing accompaniment to the early-evening balm. In front of us, we could see over the top of the farm buildings to the house, catching the odd glimpse of people milling around the Old Barn on the other side. Behind us, through a small chink in the branches, the sea shimmered.
‘A great place to spy on all the goings-on.’
‘If you mean watch out for Da or Richard coming to rope me into herding the cows to a new field, or spreading a heap of muck, then aye, it did the job.’
‘What did you do when you saw them coming?’
He laughed, glancing upwards. ‘Slipped up there like a squirrel. Or jumped down and hightailed it in the opposite direction.’ He paused. ‘Not all the time. Or even most of it. I was a typical kid, craving freedom and adventure, but I also wanted to learn as much as I could about how to take care of our land when my time came.’
‘Freedom and adventure?’ I pulled a wry face. ‘I should have built myself a treehouse. It’s not as if we were short of trees.’
