Page 52 of Summer At Willow Tree Farm

Dee knew Art still had issues about the project, he’d been noticeably absent from the back barn roster – the only one of the co-op’s members not to commit to devoting some time to the clear-out today. And, as part of her don’t-get-in-Ellie’s-face initiative, Dee had deliberately avoided making a comment about the obvious tension between the two of them.

But she’d ignored the animosity between Ellie and Art once before. During her first summer at the farm. At that time all she’d seen in Art was a boy whose desperate need for affection had made him do foolish things – and because of her pity for that boy, she had never taken Ellie’s complaints about him seriously. Especially as they had died down after a while. She’d even become convinced Ellie had a little crush on him. But perhaps if she’d done more then, to support Ellie, her daughter wouldn’t have felt so isolated.

The two of them were adults now and she needed to respect that. And intervening would feel a bit like trying to mediate between her two children, because Art had become like a son to her over the years. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t probe. Gently.

‘Did something happen between you two last night?’ Dee asked and watched the pink flags light up Ellie’s cheeks.

OK, something definitely happened, the question is what?

*

‘Nothing significant,’ Ellie said, her cheeks burning like flamethrowers. ‘We started drinking, and somehow managed to polish off a whole bottle of your sloe gin.’

And if my head didn’t feel as if it was being crushed in an enormous vice, I might be able to lie about that with some conviction.

Had she seriously got tipsy with Art and snogged him last night? In the kitchen? And how on earth, when she was currently sporting a hangover that might well kill her, could she still remember every single minute detail of that kiss?

In way too much minute detail.

After nineteen years, she’d finally discovered what it felt like to have Art’s mouth on hers and it had been so good. And so not good.

It was perfectly acceptable to entertain a few prurient thoughts about a guy over elderflower champagne and killer nail polish, it was quite another to go the full lip monty with him the first time you caught him alone.

Thank God Art had called a halt, or they may have ended up doing something even more dangerous. But what if he hadn’t?

After a week of proving herself with the project, securing her role as an admin superstar and distancing herself from the one person who had the ability to totally screw up her whole summer, she’d plunged right off a cliff in the space of one kiss.

What was wrong with her? She was here to escape from the stupid dec

isions of her youth, not dig up more of them for a do-over.

She should not have kissed Art, but, even more worrying, why had he kissed her? The tiny part of her brain still capable of operating without pain had been trying to puzzle that one out for an hour and she hadn’t come up with an obvious answer. She couldn’t remember much of what had been said – metrosexual, bi-curious and arsehole were floating around in there somewhere, but that wasn’t a lot of help. The only possible mitigating factor was that she had a vague recollection of Art being drunk too. So maybe that kiss wasn’t part of some sneaky scheme to expose her frailties. That small consolation hadn’t stopped the euphoria and confidence of the night before from plunging into the toilet this morning.

And now she had her mum, looking all fierce and protective on her behalf.

‘A whole bottle?’ Dee said, looking suitably shocked. ‘Why did you do that?’

I know, right. ‘I don’t know, but if this hangover is anything to go by, it was a mistake that will not be repeated.’ And it wasn’t the only one.

‘Is he still sulking about the shop?’ Dee asked.

Ellie felt stupidly touched. So her mum thought Art was still being a dick about the shop too? Why did it feel so important to know that? She was not in competition with Art. Far from it, unfortunately.

‘Yes, I think so,’ she said. Although, to be honest it was hard to know how Art still felt about the shop, seeing as that was one thing they had not discussed, as far as she could remember.

‘Well, I suppose it’s a good thing that you’re not avoiding each other any more?’

Not really. Actually, not at all.

Kissing men who disliked you and getting off on it was right up there in the annals of stupid decisions with marrying men that couldn’t stay faithful and never getting off at all.

Dee got up and walked back around the kitchen table to punch the dough she’d been working on when Ellie had walked in.

The soft puff of air escaping sounded like a jet engine landing inside Ellie’s head.

‘Can I ask you a question, Ellie?’

‘I suppose.’ Please don’t let it be about Art.

---