But what was Pippa supposed to do? Not see him at all? Not bring him into the house? Or should she be a nun for the rest of her life, because Lucy couldn’t cope with another man in her dad’s place? The eternal dilemma of the newly single mum made that bit more tricky because of the complications of Lucy’s life.
That was an unworthy thought, and Pippa scotched it from her brain. It was always difficult for children whose parents split up, with Lucy the problems were compounded that’s all.
‘Please, Luce, I did let you stay up later.’
A sop to her daughter to try and soften her a bit. It hadn’t worked. Lucy was still looking at her mulishly from under the covers. It didn’t help that Lucy was also hitting puberty and very definitely hormonal. Normally a sunny child, her mood swings had become much more marked in recent months. Pippa had a feeling that the next few years were going to be very challenging. If Dan hadn’t left, she’d feel up to coping – Dan had always made dealing with Lucy’s issues seem a shared burden – but now she felt bleak facing it alone. How was she going to manage?
‘Stop being naughty,’ said Pippa as Lucy resolutely stuck her legs out of the bed, again, for the third, or fourth time. Jeez. How long was she planning to keep this up?
‘Not being naughty,’ Lucy typed on her computer sulkily.
‘Yes you are,’ said Pippa firmly. ‘You know you won’t get up in the morning if you don’t go to bed now.’
Lucy stuck her tongue out in response, but did eventually allow herself to be tucked in. She even gave Pippa a kiss good night – she was an affectionate child, and for all her posturing, she still wanted a hug at bedtime.
Pippa sighed, as she turned out the light. She hoped Lucy could come to terms with what was going on. How could she ever contemplate seriously having a future with Richard if Lucy hated him?
Pippa knew this happened to other people, yet the circumstances of her split with Dan had left her uncertain about what to do or where to go next. Richard would turn up unannounced and cook her dinner, ‘Just because,’ he’d say with a ready smile, or organise football tickets for the boys. And he never took Lucy’s strops to heart, ‘She’ll get over it, Pippa,’ he’d say, ‘don’t worry so much, it will be fine.’
Richard was good for her. He made her feel safe and comfortable and looked after. Pippa, who had spent so many years looking after other people, was enjoying that. And despite a sneaking suspicion that Lucy might after all know her better than she knew herself and be right, she wasn’t going to stop seeing Richard. At least not yet. There was no need to make it serious. A light-hearted love affair after all the serious doom and gloom of the last two years would do her good. Or so she told herself.
‘She’s settled then?’ Richard said. He was sitting in front of the TV looking at home. Pippa tried (and failed) to picture him there all the time. Too soon for that, Pippa, too soon.
Richard held out a glass of wine and she sat down next to him and snuggled up. This felt cosy and nice. She should stop analysing and just go with the flow.
‘Just about,’ said Pippa. ‘I’m sorry she’s so naughty when you’re here.’
Even before the bedtime fuss, Lucy had been in an incredibly bad mood. Deliberately tipping her plate on the floor when Richard had mildly suggested she should finish the dinner she was making a point of not eating because he was there.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Richard equably. ‘She’s had a lot to deal with in a short time and she’s asserting herself.’
‘Thanks, for being so understanding,’ said Pippa. ‘I know she doesn’t make it easy on you.’
Richard put his arm around her and pulled her tight.
‘Or on you, Pip,’ he said, kissing her. ‘You’re amazing you know that?’
It gave Pippa a warm, fuzzy feeling to be told that. Too often she felt like a catastrophic failure. It was nice to think someone thought she was amazing. Particularly someone as good looking and caring as Richard. She was doing the right thing. Lucy would come round eventually.
They settled back to watch some dross on TV, and Pippa felt herself destress. After half an hour, she was feeling much better.
That was until Richard put a spanner in the works.
‘So has there been any more news about the development opposite?’
Pippa groaned. She didn’t want to think about that right now. Marianne had already been on at her about starting up a campaign, but at the moment she wasn’t sure she had the energy. She would have preferred not to discuss it with Richard either, but he’d seen the planning notices pinned up down the lane, and his take on things was very different from hers.
‘Not really,’ said Pippa. ‘I know it’s going to be too big and out of keeping with the area and not what any of us want.’
‘Maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way round,’ said Richard. ‘Perhaps you should take advantage of it.’
‘Advantage how?’ said Pippa.
‘Why not be part of it?’ said Richard. ‘When you and Dan divorce, you’ll have to think of the farm. Why not sell some of your land? Make things easier for you both?’
‘But we don’t want to sell,’ said Pippa. ‘This farm has been in my family for three generations.’
‘Things change,’ said Richard. ‘And you’ve said yourself the farm is losing money.’
‘I know,’ said Pippa, suddenly angry that he was suggesting things that had already gone through her mind. ‘But sell it? I don’t think I could.’
Marianne took the phone call. It was Eve’s mum, Joan.
‘Hello, is Gabriel there?’ she asked. She sounded jittery and nervous.
‘Sorry, he’s not in yet,’ said Marianne.
She looked out of the window into the gloom of a February evening. Gabriel was still out – the lambing season was getting going in earnest now, and he was very busy, working all hours helping deliver the new lambs. Marianne helped out when she could, but she couldn’t help Gabe in the evenings, so Dan or Gabriel’s dad often came out to lend a hand.
The twins were tucked up in bed, Steven was away at school, even their new pet lamb, Dolly, was asleep in her basket in the corner of the kitchen. It was likely to be several hours before Gabriel came in. Marianne felt lost and lonely and not in the mood to deal with Eve’s mum who could be very difficult and demanding.
‘Ah,’ said Joan, ‘have you any idea when he’s likely to be back?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Marianne, wondering why Joan was ringing them, it wasn’t as if they were often in touch. ‘Can I help at all?’
‘It’s about Eve …’
It would be. Eve had been part of the fabric of her relationship with Gabriel since day one. Marianne had met Gabriel just after Eve had left him, and she’d seen for herself the pain she’d caused him, particularly when she’d come back to Hope Christmas and tried to win custody of Steven. And more recently, when