‘Well, let me do that then.’ Seb made to step towards the machine.
Mum raised an eyebrow. ‘I shan’t invite you again if you’re going to insist on being helpful. Lottie, do take him away. Go and show Seb the view from the top of the lane, give the dogs a chance to stretch their legs.’
We both looked to where the dogs were curled up by the Aga, sleeping.
‘Yes, they look eager to do that,’ I giggled, laughing at how Humphrey was using his bigger pal as a pillow.
‘Watch this though.’ Seb moved to where his coat was hanging and pulled the lead from a pocket. Scooby was up and across the kitchen, leaving Humphrey looking slightly dazed and appearing to wonder what just happened. ‘Come on, Humph. Time for a walk.’ He knew that word and was now just as keen as his friend, despite having been in the depths of what looked like a very contented sleep moments ago.
I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about Mum effectively shoving me out the door with Seb, but there wasn’t a lot I could do about it.
We walked leisurely up the lane, towards the area Mum had suggested. ‘Sorry about this. I hope you didn’t mind a walk.’
‘Of course, I don’t mind. It’s lovely round here. I just feel bad not helping.’
‘Oh, don’t worry. She’s always been like that. The kitchen is kind of her domain. Stay long enough and she might let you help one day.’
He smiled. ‘Something to look forward to.’
‘There’s a lot of dinners to get through before you get that golden ticket though.’
‘It’s a tough job, but I’m trained for this kind of thing.’
I bumped his arm and we walked on companionably, talking about everything and nothing, until we got to the fence that separated the lane from the view beyond.
‘Wow.’
‘Not bad, eh?’
Before us, a field curved gently away, and below that lay the next village, an enchanting little hamlet that was just a scattering of houses, a tiny shop and a beautiful Norman church, with Gothic Victorian additions. Stood here, with the promise of spring in the air, a gentle warmth on our faces as the clouds of earlier had cleared away, the view was like something from a picture book. Or perhaps a history book of times gone by. From here there was no sight, and no sound, of the mechanical intrusion of humans. All was quiet, the only sounds being the gentle rustle of early leaves on the trees around us, birds fluttering and chirping as they swooped across and gathered on branches, and the long grass in the field swooshing gently as a breeze caught it.
‘You should see this in June. It’s an absolute mass of wildflowers. The owners don’t mow it as they want to encourage wildlife. It’s absolutely breathtaking. It’s just this humming mass of colour, buzzing with insects.’
‘That sounds wonderful. I’d like to see that.’
‘Well, behave and I might bring you again.’
He gave me a little salute and rested his hands on the fence. ‘Where’s that?’ he asked, pointing to the next village.
‘Tinkerton. It’s beautiful. Tiny. I’ve always wanted to live there.’
‘Sounds like a place from a kids’ TV programme.’
I smiled, bending and placing my elbows on the top bar of the fence next to him before resting my chin in my hands.
‘It does. I think that’s part of its appeal. It’s got a timelessness about it. I love it.’
‘Pricey?’
I pulled a face. ‘Way out of my price range, unfortunately. Houses don’t come up very often there, but I always keep an eye and, when they do, I spend ages looking at them on the estate agency site.’ I rolled my head to one side to look at him. ‘Daft, eh?’
His gaze remained focused on the view as he shook his head. ‘Not at all. People’s circumstances change all the time. Who knows what tomorrow might bring?’
‘Unless it brings a lottery win, I don’t think I’ve got any hope there. Still, it’s nice to dream.’
He turned then, his smile as gentle as the sunshine. ‘It is.’
I pushed myself up. ‘Shall we head back?’
