‘We could!’
‘I think we should do it. Runcible, are you up for a walk?’ My little dog ran over to him as he patted his knees, and he scooped her up. Seeing him be so sweet with her made it very hard for me to pretend to myself I didn’t fancy him. ‘There you go, you see? She’s enthusiastic.’
‘All right, then, let’s go!’
We put on our warm clothes and Runcible’s thick jumper and stepped outside, the cold momentarily taking my breath away.
‘They take some getting used to, these temperatures,’ said Alexander, zipping up his coat a little further. ‘I like it, I’ve lived with it for such a long time, but some people who move here never get used to it.’
I stamped my feet and shivered dramatically.
‘I’m reserving judgement for now, but I prefer it to boiling hot summers.’
‘We don’t get many of them up here.’
‘So, where can we find the things we need? Will we have to go far?’
‘There are some pine trees growing at the back – Christmas trees that Dad and I started planting a few years ago so eventually we’ll have big ones for the house every year. They’re Douglas firs – any good?’
I consulted the information I had saved on my phone.
‘Yes, they’re fine. Let’s start there then.’
We walked across the frosty lawn, our feet leaving marks behind us, although Runcible’s little paws barely did. The pathway through the hedges that led to Heathcliff’s field veered away to the right, but we turned left and crossed a pretty stone bridge over a stream. I paused and looked down at the water.
‘It hasn’t frozen yet. I’m surprised, it’s so cold.’
Alexander laughed.
‘This isn’t cold, not yet. Give it time, although the stream still may not freeze. You should see it later in the year – this is just a trickle compared to spring, then the becks all around here gush along.’
‘Beck?’
‘It’s what we call these streams – ones with stony bottoms.’
I nodded, wishing I could see it at full flow later in the year, and we continued walking, the ground now tufty with heather, although there was also a lot of stone and brick lying around. Alexander must have noticed me looking and said:
‘There was once some sort of religious building on this site, destroyed in the English Reformation, but you can see what’s left. There was probably some sort of kitchen garden – that would have been perfect in the warmer weather for finding locally grown herbs.’
‘What a great idea. You should work out where it was, bring it back to life and use the botanicals in your gin. It’simpossibly romantic. People would love knowing their drinks were flavoured with herbs from a monastic medicine garden.’
Alexander grinned at me.
‘I like the way your romanticism is tempered with good commercial sense,’ he said teasingly. ‘For instance, would you sell your wedding pictures to a magazine?’
‘Ha. I doubt there will ever be a wedding to sell pictures of,’ I said shortly.
‘Marriage not for you?’ he asked, and when I just shrugged, unwilling to get into the conversation, he continued, ‘I agree. I went there once before and look how that ended. You do know about that, I suppose?’
I nodded.
‘Yes, Mum mentioned it. I’m sorry, what an awful train of events for you and Theo to go through.’
We had stopped walking now, and he kicked at some of the old bricks.
‘Yes, it was a lot to go through in a short time – my accident…’ He flexed his hand, and my eyes were drawn once again to the livid scars across the palm. ‘Holly leaving and then the car crash…I doubt Theo will ever get over it.’ He lifted his head and looked at me. ‘You can understand why I’m so protective of him. He’s already suffered so many terrible experiences in his short life, I can’t bear risking him being exposed to any more.’
So, no school, no playdates and now no second wife,I thought, although I didn’t say anything out loud. Instead, I asked:
