of a picnic.’
‘He’s a soldier?’
‘Was a soldier, until he spent a few months in a mental institute. I told you that family is nuts, something runs through those veins of theirs, a connection gone wrong in their set up. My wife Jen’s the only one who’s normal. You know their grandfather shot himself?’
Claire followed his gaze towards Dale who was clenching and unclenching his jaw as he stared into the distance. ‘That must have been very hard for Dale, being in the Falklands.’
‘We all go through tough times. Don’t turn us half-mad, do they?’ Henry leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘I talked to Milo about how upset you were. I also told him he won’t be paid for that deer he shot.’
Claire thought of the red notices she’d seen on the drive down, the smoke on the horizon, the rotting stench as dozens of herds were culled. She’d even written about BSE, or Mad Cow Disease as it was known, for her magazine after many of the UK’s farm attractions had closed to tourists, the disease not only killing cattle but also being linked to vCJD, a brain condition in humans. But tourism was the least of the farm world’s problems. The worldwide ban on all British beef exports the year before was crippling them.
‘No, Henry, please,’ Claire said. ‘Farmers need all the money they can get with this BSE crisis.’
‘The farm’s problems started way before all this BSE nonsense! Thank God I came along and bought this inn off the family, otherwise there’d be no money left.’ He raised his voice as he spoke. Milo’s brother turned to look at Henry before sliding his gaze to Claire, the anger visible on his face.
She stood up. ‘I’m going to call it a night, Henry, it’s been a long day.’
‘But it’s only eight!’
‘I’m very tired.’ She manoeuvred out from behind the table. ‘Don’t say anything else to your brother-in-law, all right? And please, don’t dock his pay.’
‘But—’
Claire looked him in the eye. ‘Really, Henry. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow as planned. I want to explore the area a bit in the morning then we can discuss what you have planned for the rest of my stay.’
She found herself taking one last look at Milo, who was now laughing at something Holly had said, then walked out of the bar, Archie trotting after her. As she reached the staircase, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, thinking it was Henry then froze when she realised it was Milo.
Archie jumped up at his legs, tail wagging erratically.
Traitor, Claire thought.
‘I’m sorry about what happened earlier,’ he said. His voice was deep with a slight West Country twang. ‘Henry said you were upset.’
‘I think the deer was more upset,’ Claire said.
‘It was a red stag actually.’
Claire rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, that makes it better then.’
‘It does when it’s been trampling all over our crops and killing endangered wildlife,’ he said with a raised eyebrow.
She felt her face flush. She wasn’t qualified to have an argument about this. ‘Just be more careful in the future. I didn’t expect to have a gun pointed at me on my first day here.’
Archie whined, scrabbling his paws at Milo’s jeans. Milo leaned down, running his hand over Archie’s back. Then he peered up at Claire from under his fringe, his eyes sinking into hers. ‘Sorry, I’m being an idiot. I actually hate hunting.’
‘Then maybe you should consider a career change.’
‘It’s not as easy as that.’
She sighed. She shouldn’t have said that. ‘I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. Goodnight.’ She went to walk up the stairs.
‘You took the wrong path today, by the way,’ he called out after her.
She paused, turning around. ‘Sorry?’
‘The path you took to Hope’s Mouth.’
‘I took the official path.’
‘The official path isn’t always the best path.’
‘How so?’
‘Secret passages.’
Claire laughed. ‘I didn’t realise we were in Narnia.’
‘Narnia’s got nothing on Exmoor.’ His face grew serious. ‘I’ll take you tomorrow morning if you want.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Via the better path. Unless you have other plans, of course?’
Claire stared at him, not quite sure how to take him. Was he being serious?
His sister came out with a pint of bitter in her hands. ‘What are you doing, Milo?’ she asked, looking Claire up and down. ‘It’s Holly’s birthday, remember?’
‘Thanks, Jen.’ He put his arm around his sister’s shoulders and led her to the bar, peering over his shoulder at Claire. ‘So see you outside at eight tomorrow morning then?’
‘I have plans.’
‘I won’t bring my gun, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
They disappeared into the bar, laughter ringing out from inside. Claire stood where she was for a few moments, face flushed, heart thumping. Then she whistled for Archie and headed to her room, desperate to disappear into the pages of her novel again and forget all about gun-toting farmers with unbearably handsome faces.
The clouds hovered above like bin bags ready to burst as Claire walked outside the next morning. It was nine; she’d made sure not to show her face before then. If she went for a walk with Milo, how would that look? This was a work trip after all and she wanted to hurry up and get home. Then there was everything that had passed between her and Ben the past two days. It wouldn’t be right.
But as she rounded the corner, the first person she saw was Milo, his hands in the pockets of his wax coat as he leaned against a wall, a small smile on his face. Her traitorous lips tried to form a smile in response. She forced them into a grim line instead.
‘You’re a bit late,’ Milo said, looking at his watch.
‘I never said I’d meet you.’
‘But you’re here now.’
‘No, I’m heading out for a walk alone, with my dog. I need to take more photos for the magazine.’
‘Oh, come on. Doesn’t the part of you that bought those earrings want to see Narnia?’ he said, referring to the striped tribal earrings Claire’s dad had got her when they were in Zanzibar.
‘Narnia’s a million miles away from where
