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‘Okay, we’ll go for a scramble beside the beck, and if we see any nature it’s an added bonus. This time of the morning we might see all kinds of things. Otters, red squirrels, hedgehogs …’
‘Killer eagles?’
‘Maybe,’ she said dubiously.
‘Come on then, let’s go.’
There were no killer eagles on their morning walk, and no otters, badgers or hedgehogs either, but the birds were singing loudly, the sun was already warm enough for T-shirts and everything smelled fresh and green. Harry skipped happily along beside her, looking for mini beasts, the squirmier and slimier the better, and he found plenty of them. An iridescent beetle, some ladybirds and some peculiar black things which looked positively poisonous. He was poking one gently with a stick when she heard a voice behind her.
‘You’re up early!’ Peter Thompson was heading up the valley with his sheepdogs, not Jen but the working dogs, keeping obediently to heel.
‘So are you!’
‘Going to be shearing soon. Just off to check everything’s set and right. Going to be gathering the sheep day after tomorrow, don’t want to find any of the gates are broken. There’s always some bloody fool of a hiker trying to climb over them. There’s a storm coming, so I don’t want to leave it too late.’
'How can you tell?’ It seemed like the perfect summer morning, not a hint of wind or rain and the sky was a clear blue.
He looked at her sideways. ‘Weather forecast on the radio.’
Harry was still absorbed with his beetle, Amy watched out of the corner of her eye.
‘I remember that last year we helped with the shearing. Mam tried to help, but she wasn’t very good.’
‘Ay. I remember it well. Why do you think that old dog of mine is called Jen? Useless as your mam was, but couldn’t bear to part with her all the same.’
‘What, the dog or my mam?’ Amy said light-heartedly, joking, waiting for Peter to laugh.
There was a sudden awkward silence, and all of a sudden Amy knew. There was something she had been missing all this time.
‘You mean … you and Mam …’ she stuttered.
A momentary look of concern crossed his worn face. ‘You knew that, surely? She must have told you?’
‘You and my mam, you had a holiday romance?’
There was another long, awkward silence.
‘I shouldn’t have said nowt,’ he said at last. ‘I thought she would’ve told you.’
‘She didn’t say anything,’ she said, quietly, trying to work through it all in her mind. There were so many questions.
‘I’ve said enough. Ancient history.’ He began to walk away from her, as if dismissing her.
‘Wait! Wait, you can’t … you’ve got to tell me. That photo in the cottage, Harry was right, it was my mam, wasn’t it?’
Harry had been paying absolutely no attention until now, but suddenly his attention was caught by the sound of his name. Beetle forgotten, he came bounding after them.
‘See! See, I told you! It was Granny Jen!’
‘It was. Long time ago, now, that was the last year she come here.’
‘The year she went skinny dipping in the lake, you went with her, didn’t you? That’s how you knew.’
‘Ay. I did. That’s when she told me it couldn’t go on. You were at the farmhouse with our mam that night. Jen and me, we had the tarn to ourselves. I asked her to marry me. I was a fool.’
‘Marry you?’ she repeated, as if he was talking a new language. ‘She never told me. I didn’t even know … I didn’t know anything! You and Mam?’
‘It makes sense she never told you. Seems she never wanted you to know. You came first, you always came first. She never wanted to marry me because it would’ve meant coming to live here at the farm with me, and she didn’t want that for you. I couldn’t have left Mum and Dad on their own, and she wouldn’t bring you here.’
