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‘Please,’ she reminded him.
‘Please,’ he parroted, pulling a face.
Amy had a good look round while Matt was getting the drinks and the boys were shuffling the pack of playing cards she had brought. The Shepherd’s Rest had been built to withstand cold winters; the walls were thick with small, deep-set windows, and the inglenook fireplace was almost large enough to stand upright. The old wooden bar was polished to a shine, and the slate floors were worn in the doorways from generations of passing feet. Above their heads, ancient pewter plates and tankards filled a shelf all the way round the room. It felt cosy and warm.
Her attention was grabbed by a sudden scutter of several cards falling to the floor.
‘Please stop flicking the cards around like that.’
‘It’s not me, it’s Harry!’ Oliver protested, but she was fairly sure she’d seen, out of the corner of her eye, both boys flicking cards at each other. Nevertheless, Oliver wasn’t her son, and she didn’t want to cause a scene.
‘It was you, too!’ yelled Harry.
‘It wasn’t. I never!’ Oliver looked towards his dad, waiting at the bar.
‘Yes, it was! I saw you!’ Harry insisted.
‘You’re telling lies. I didn’t do anything. You’re bullying me!’
Luckily at that moment Matt came over with the drinks.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing to get upset about. Just some cards being flicked about, that’s all.’
‘We’ll pick them up. Look, I’ve brought some menus. Shall we choose what we’re having?’
Amy took a menu from him and her jaw nearly hit the floor. This was not your normal Lake District bar with baked potatoes and Cumberland sausage for hungry hikers. The food sounded amazing, but the prices were astronomical. There was no way she could afford it.
‘This is all too sophisticated for Harry, I’m afraid. I think we might go back to the tent after we’ve had a drink and get something there.’
‘But Mam, there’s steak! I love steak.’
‘Ah, but it’s got a peppery sauce. You wouldn’t like it,’
‘I would! Pleeeeeeeaaaaaase, Mam?’
‘Well …’ If he chose something from the children’s menu and she didn’t eat anything, she might be able to afford it. ‘Why don’t you have the kid’s shepherd’s pie — that sounds nice?’ It was also the cheapest thing on the menu.
‘I want a steak. Dad lets me have steak when we go out.’
‘You wouldn’t like the peppercorn sauce. I think you should have something from the children’s menu. The shepherd’s pie will be like the one Granny Jen used to make.’
‘Oh well, I suppose. I do like Granny’s shepherd’s pie. As long as I don’t have to have peas. I want beans instead.’
‘Fine,’ she said, breathing a sigh of relief the scene had not been worse. ‘No peas.’
‘So, Harry will have the shepherd’s pie. What about you?’
‘I’m still full from lunch. I don’t think I want a big meal right now. I might have a packet of crisps.’
He looked at her suspiciously. ‘Why don’t I treat you both to a meal?’
He had guessed and she was mortified. ‘That’s absolutely not necessary.’
‘Please, I’d like to. It’s so nice for Oliver to have someone to play with. Call it a kind of thank you.’
‘It’s fine. Really, it’s fine.’
