Page 33 of Summer At Willow Tree Farm

He laughed, the sound doing strange things to the muscles in her abdomen. He really was sinfully handsome. For a smug sadistic bastard. The pirate scruff on his face caused by his inability to shave only added to his rugged, bit-of-rough appeal.

‘All right, knock yourself out.’ He dumped the sheet of paper onto one of the many piles on his desk. ‘But only if you promise not to screw with my system.’

‘Absolutely not.’

She so was screwing with his screwy system. She could already feel the adrenaline charging through her veins at the thought of getting her hands on the stacks of files and turning the Manhattan skyline effect he had going on into something ordered and efficient and – oh, the joy of it – properly alphabetised. That delving into the farm’s accounts would also allow her to satisfy her curiosity about the project’s financial situation was just an added benefit.

‘And my debt to you is paid in full as of now,’ he added.

‘Understood.’

And not a problem, seeing how big he was going to owe her, once she’d finished ordering and alphabetising his rubbish system to within an inch of its life.

CHAPTER TEN

The following Monday, Ellie was elbow deep in a pile of order forms dating back to when Madonna was still a virgin when Dee popped her head round the study door.

‘Tess and Annie are here to pick up their kids. We’re just about to have some tea and…’ Dee paused in mid-sentence to step into the room. ‘My goodness, you’ve certainly made a few changes in here.’

Ellie stood and dusted off her jeans, surveying the damage she’d done to Art’s so-called system. She’d seen very little of him over the weekend. But whatever he’d been doing, at least his hand seemed to be healing because she noticed this morning at breakfast he’d managed to shave off the hipster beard.

‘I know it looks like a hatchet job,’ she said, ‘but most of this paperwork can be binned. You only need tax records dating back six years and–’

‘That’s wonderful,’ Dee interrupted with an absent smile, obviously not that interested in the tax regulations. ‘It looks like you’ve definitely earned a break. And Tess has already got the kettle on.’

‘A tea break sounds like a great idea,’ Ellie said.

The nerves dancing in her stomach began to do the polka.

How could she swap small talk over tea and cake and not mention what she had discovered in the last three days about the farm’s financial situation?

Almost as soon as she’d begun delving into the accounts, it had become clear the business needed to make some substantial changes if it was going to survive much longer. But exactly how aware was Art of the financial cliff they were teetering on the edge of, and how much had he told Dee?

She did not want to step into the middle of an emotional minefield. She and her mum hadn’t discussed the past. Their relationship, such as it was, was still fragile and at times awkward. The last thing Ellie wanted to do was challenge Dee’s loyalty to Art or her faith in this place. Especially as she knew she would lose. Just like she had nineteen years ago, when her mother had decided to stay here with Pam and Art, instead of returning to London with he

r.

Ellie was well over that betrayal now. She’d made her own life and her own spectacular mistakes, and if her marriage to Dan had taught her one thing it had been to be emotionally self-sufficient.

But was she really ready to test that theory? And have her mum reject her again? And, perhaps more importantly, did she really want to challenge Art’s authority over the accounts? Because that’s what she’d be doing. If her relationship with her mother was fragile, her relationship with Art was even more problematic. That something about him still tugged at her, still made her want to delve behind his stoic, taciturn shield and find out what kind of man lay beneath, was not something she wanted – or needed – to encourage. Because she had a distinct feeling the man behind the shield was as much of a hard arse as the one in front of it.

But how could she keep the farm’s financial problems a secret? And if she told her mother how precarious things were, wasn’t it her duty to make constructive suggestions to help her sort it out?

To add to her confusion, she’d found something in Pam’s old files that had intrigued her. And got her thinking of a possible solution. But it was a long shot, which might fail, even if Dee and Annie and Tess were interested in hearing about it.

Not surprisingly, the nerves in her stomach were dancing a jig by the time she followed her mother into the kitchen. Tess and Annie were busy setting the table, with her mother’s legendary lemon drizzle cake getting pride of place. Annie’s twins were corralled in the playpen Dee kept in the kitchen and Melody was hard at work colouring in a picture of her favourite Disney princess, Anna from Frozen.

Seeing the children made Ellie think of Josh, which did nothing to calm her jittery stomach.

His taster day at Gratesbury Secondary had been a roaring success on Friday and the head teacher had called that evening to suggest he attend classes for the rest of the term as an exchange student. Josh had been enthusiastic and so Ellie had been forced to bottle her concerns when she’d sent him off on the bus that morning wearing his brand-new Gratesbury Secondary sweatshirt.

Thoughts of Josh reminded her of the conversation they’d had last night when she’d explained in great depth why they mustn’t forget they were only visitors here. Maybe she should be taking her own advice?

Quite apart from her rocky relationship with Art, did she really have the right to suggest something that could be risky and would require a great deal of work when her own business hadn’t exactly been a roaring success and she was only here for the summer?

‘We’ve come to rescue you from the horror of the farm’s accounts.’ Tess pulled out a chair for Ellie and patted the seat. ‘Now sit down and take a load off. What do you need? Coffee? Tea? Gin? Whisky? Crystal meth?’

‘Coffee would be fab, if it’s not too much trouble,’ Ellie said. The nerves tap danced along her oesophagus as Annie concentrated on chopping off a slab of lemon drizzle. And Tess began ladling coffee into the cafetière.

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