“Stop it, brain!” Pippa ordered. “We’ve discussed this.” Determinedly, she twisted the neck of the sack as if it were the lifeline feeding lusty daydreams to her mind. “No more.”
Just then, something skittered in the corner of the cellar, startling Pippa from her illicit reverie. She forced herself to check each corner of the space, relieved to see there were no rats in sight. Whatever critter made that noise had mercifully vanished and she decided to make her escape before the creature returned.
Pippa emerged into the kitchen blinking, the sunlight pouring through the windows a shock after the darkness of the cellar. She sneezed and rubbed her eyes, groaning when her hands came away smeared with dust. Pippa hurried to the sink and splashed her face with water, sighing with relief as the itchiness in her eyes subsided. She reached out to the right, but the towel rod was empty.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” She had been positive there had been a hand towel there that morning when she’d washed up her coffee cup. Just then, a warm hand grabbed hers. Fright stole her breath but then she recognised a familiar and expensive scent. A towel was placed in her hand.
Once Pippa had dried her face, she opened her eyes. Wolfie stood inches away, watching her with the smallest of smiles and dressed in a fitted shirt and jeans, his hair still a little dark from the shower. Beside him was a man Pippa had never seen before. The visitor was decked out in a crumpled beige linen suit, a magenta dress scarf trying valiantly to add an edge of maverick swagger to the ensemble but failing miserably.
“Thanks.” Pippa lifted the towel.
“No problem,” Wolfie said. “You looked like you needed a hand.”
“Yeah. It’s the … the…” Pippa sneezed again, then looked down at herself. She was coated in dust; the sack must have been lying in the cellar for years. “Sorry.”
“How’s the head?” Wolfie asked.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. His concerned eyes were a spotlight and Pippa wasn’t sure if she wanted to be under it.
“Hi there!” The visitor stepped forward, craning around Wolfie to catch Pippa’s eye. His oddly bright red lips were curved in a leery grin. “Lou Donnelly.”
Glad to be jarred away from Wolfie’s intensity, Pippa forced a polite smile Lou’s way. “Hi.”
The man beamed, puffing out his chest. “You might have heard of me. Lou’s Burgers? Looking to expand into more locations.”
“Oh, I see.” Her heart sank at the concept that Squires could become a burger place. This chain in particular seemed to be popping up everywhere across Yorkshire. Questionable recipes and even more questionable ethics when it came to where they sourced their ingredients. Yet weirdly popular for some unfathomable reason. “I’m Pippa.”
“Pippa is kind of a custodian, if you will,” Wolfie explained. “Keeps an eye on the place for me as I don’t have a permanent base here. Fixes snags and such.”
“I imagine a place like this has plenty of snags,” Lou sympathised. “I can see why you’d want to sell.” His eyes drifted down to the sack at her feet. “What you got there?”
“Rat trap.” As soon as Pippa answered, Lou recoiled.
“Rats?” The restauranteur exclaimed. “I can’t have rats. Do you have a rat problem here? That’s an absolute no-no.”
Wolfie’s mouth opened and closed, and Pippa realised this wasn’t a question he could answer easily without being sure he was truthful. He wasn’t here enough and clearly wasn’t the type of man to easily lie about such an issue. Her father’s cheeky suggestion ran through her mind and Pippa saw an opportunity.
“We do have to put an awful lot of traps down,” she said, affecting a meek expression. “Takes a great deal of effort to keep up with them all.”
“From my experience, I can assure you that we don’t have any kind of rat problem.” Wolfie practically snarled at the man.
“Does that mean you want me to stop putting out the traps?” Pippa asked Wolfie innocently.
Wolfie gaped. “No, I— Well, they should—” He took a deep breath. “Can we discuss this in private a little later?” He smiled down at Lou who looked positively irked. “Come along. Let me show you the grounds. Absolutely stunning views for a dining terrace.” And, shooting a fiery glance at Pippa, he led the man away.
Trying not to laugh, Pippa heaved the sack out of the front door and round to the side of the house where the bins were tucked away and she disposed of the broken trap. On returning to the house, she reached for the door and was almost bowled over by an irate Lou Donnelly.
“I’m an epicurean, Mr. Squires. A gourmet!” Lou waved his arms in the air. “I cannot seriously consider building my latest outpost on a site where the current owner can’t even be honest about his rat situation!”
Wolfie’s eyes took on a murderous hue. With a voice loaded with menace, he shot back, “Like I said, we don’t have a rat problem.”
“Then what are those droppings?” Lou gestured back towards the house.
Wolfie gritted his teeth. “We are in the countryside. You do tend to find droppings here and there.”
“I’m a restauranteur,” Lou yelled. “I know my shit and that is definitely rodent in nature.”
Wolfie sighed. “Again, countryside?”
