Page 63 of Summer At Willow Tree Farm

‘Go and wash up in the stream before you touch that,’ Dee said.

As Dee turned back to the barbecue drum, and the chickens slow-roasting over cedar wood charcoal, Art sneaked a tartlet and popped it in his mouth.

He pressed a finger to his lips while he chewed and winked at her. Silly to get dazzled by Art’s mostly non-existent charm, but she couldn’t resist the quick grin in response to his playfulness.

He headed over to the stream to do as he was told and she watched him go.

The plaster-streaked cotton of his work shirt stretched across his back as he crouched down to examine the Frozen palace on the stream bank. Melody pressed next to his knee, resting her hand on his nape as she pointed out all the palace’s design features. His large hand came round to rest on her waist and give it a squeeze as he spoke to her – probably about the construction properties of the palace. Toto joined them, her jeans caked in mud up to her thighs and her hands even filthier.

Ellie couldn’t hear the conversation, the girls’ voices drowned out by the rush of the stream, the whistle and coo of a nearby bird and the noise of the Jackson boys running rings around their father. But she didn’t need to hear the conversation to notice the tilt of Art’s head and then the slow nods as he listened intently.

He rinsed his hands, then stood up, flicking the excess water over Melody who giggled. Then he rested a hand on the back of Toto’s neck – she dived out of the way, giggling too. Josh stood back through it all, shielding his eyes against the sun, then bobbed his head when Art addressed him. The shy smile on his face as Art directed all three of the children to wash up had Ellie’s heart tumbling over in her chest.

Art’s communication skills might be lacking, but his listening skills were exemplary.

The thought of that focused, intent look brought back memories of their kiss in the kitchen. The kiss she still hadn’t managed to completely forget.

‘He’s wonderful with them, isn’t he?’

Her mother’s voice hauled Ellie out of her Art appreciation moment.

‘Yes,’ she mumbled, as she fidgeted with the table layout.

‘I have to admit I had my reservations when Alicia got pregnant. I didn’t think Art would be able to cope with the responsibility. But seeing him and Toto together…’ Her mother gave a quiet sigh of contentment. Dee’s gaze shifted to Ellie, the true blue of her eyes misty with memory. ‘You should never underestimate how much people can do when tested.’

Ellie nodded, realising how much she had once underestimated Art too. ‘So Alicia was Toto’s mother?’ she asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

‘Yes, she lived here for four years. Her and a couple of her friends…’ Her mother paused. ‘They came from London. Said they wanted to try alternative living.’

‘Where is she now?’ If she’d only lived at the farm for a few years had she left when Toto was still a baby? Ellie observed Art down by the stream, busy washing off Melody’s hands while Toto and Josh splashed about nearby getting wet but not a lot less muddy.

Toto was thirteen, which meant by her calculation Art would only have been twenty-one when she was born. Had he been a single dad right from the start? How had he coped? Even with Dee’s help? She could remember how much hard work young children were and she’d had a housekeeper and a maid while Josh was little, hired by her father-in-law, who had insisted that Granger women didn’t waste time on housework when they could pay someone else to do it for them.

‘We don’t know,’ Dee said, the edge in her voice unlike her. Dee rarely had a bad word to

say about anyone. But it was clear Toto’s mother had managed to fit herself into that exclusive group. ‘She left before Toto’s first birthday and hasn’t been back in touch since. I can’t say I’m upset about that. She had a lot of problems, but it’s hard to feel sympathetic when she abandoned her own child without a backwards glance.’

So many questions twirled around in Ellie’s brain. How long had Alicia and Art been an item? Did he miss her? And what were the ‘problems’ her mum was alluding to so cryptically? Other than being a monumentally crap mother?

She forced them back though, as Tess and Maddy and Annie joined them to help carve the chickens. And Rob attempted to wrestle his boys into the two high chairs set out at one end of the table.

As Ellie laid a serving platter of barbecued chicken in front of Rob, she observed Art heading back from the stream. He clasped Melody’s hand as she chattered away like a magpie. The older kids trailed behind, now wet as well as muddy.

Questions about Art’s past were probably best left unsaid. And unanswered. He had always been an enigma, and the only other time she’d tried to satisfy her curiosity about him, when she was fourteen, it had not ended well.

*

‘Folks, I need your attention for a minute.’ Jacob looked ready to burst as he tinked his glass with a knife. But, as he pushed back his chair to stand and swept the hair out of his eyes, Ellie could see the nerves.

‘First, I wanted to say thanks, from Maddy and me.’

Maddy whooped and cheered.

‘I’m sure Ellie and Art are going to particularly appreciate us being gone,’ he added, his trademark cheeky grin back.

Ellie’s gaze connected with Art’s across the table as everyone else laughed. The sun was dipping towards the horizon on the other side of Jacob and Maddy’s cabin, throwing Art’s face into shadow, but she could feel his gaze on her before he turned to toast Jacob with his glass of home-made apple cider.

‘Why do you think I got up at six this morning to finish that bloody bathroom.’ Art’s growl rippled across Ellie’s skin, and she shivered despite the warmth of the evening.

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