I am going to rest my eyes. This weather is very drying. Come on, boys.’ And she was off, the dogs’ claws click-clacking on the polished wood as they followed closely behind.
‘I think Prince Harry had considerably more help than you will get.’ Dom drained the last dregs of the brandy and sat down. ‘And he also has more contacts in the music industry.’
‘I have lots of contacts.’ Pip looked a bit disgruntled.
‘And we have a long-term problem here. One injection of cash isn’t enough.’
‘We could make it an annual event?’ Lottie sounded more hopeful than confident. ‘Like Glastonbury?’
‘I think you need something big to put you on the map, and then you need to capitalise on it. You know, let people visit, or something.’ Pip poured herself another drink.
‘Which is something mother has steadfastly refused to do, speaking of which I better check that she’s okay.’
‘But you never check…’ Lottie stared at Dom, her heart suddenly a lump in her chest. ‘Is there something you haven’t told me? She isn’t really ill is she?’
‘Would she have said yes to you getting involved otherwise?’ His voice was soft and he put a gentle hand on her shoulder, then headed off towards the stairs, tossing an ‘I won’t be long’ over his shoulder as he went. Which made the lump in her chest move up to her throat. There couldn’t be anything wrong with Gran, there just couldn’t. She was the one person who was never ill and never let anything stop her doing anything. Wasn’t she?
‘Isn’t it something all girls want?’
Pip was only half listening to Sam, who had been waiting on her doorstep when she got home. Well, more precisely, waiting in her soft-top car with a dreamy look on her face. When Pip had glanced over her shoulder she’d been horrified to see that Sam was flicking through baby pictures on her mobile phone.
The news that Elizabeth was ill worried her. It was easy to forget just how old Lottie’s gran was as she meddled in the villagers lives, supped her gin and tonics and strode out in her Hunter wellingtons and Barbour jacket. Pip couldn’t imagine her not being around and nor, she imagined, could Lottie.
‘Sorry, what did you say? God, it stinks in here!’ There were many good things about living with Mick, the farrier, but one enormous negative. The smell. Of horses and burnt hoof. And open windows didn’t seem to solve the problem. And then there was, of course, the whole maybe-he-didn’t-love-her thing.
‘Are you okay, babe? You seem bothered.’
‘Bothered and bewildered.’
Sam stared, confused.
‘I’ve just come from Tipping House. I don’t think Elizabeth is very well.’
‘Oh no, not her Ladyship. You two get on so well, don’t you?’ Sam wrapped her arms around Pip in a spontaneous hug. ‘Although she is quite old, I suppose, but the Queen Mum went on for years, didn’t she? And Lady S is, like, related to her, isn’t she? I’m sure she’s got wonderful gene things. She’s not in hospital or anything is she?’
‘No, she’s not in hospital, but she’s only got the Queen’s genes several times removed. I guess I just forget she’s an old lady. She doesn’t seem like one.’
‘She’s a card, bless her.’
‘And Lottie is going to have to start behaving like a Lady.’ Lottie worried her as well. She’d been her normal scatty self when Elizabeth was there, but after her gran and uncle had left the room Pip had seen a glimpse of the woman her best friend was maturing into. Whatever Lottie thought, the Stanthorpe genes were obvious, the determination to succeed and do her duty impossible to ignore. Which was great, except she still seemed to be worried about the whole Todd situation and had asked again if Pip couldn’t at least keep an eye on him. And how did she get out of that one without seeming totally unhelpful and selfish? Assuring Lottie that they’d sort something out didn’t somehow seem enough.
‘Wow, that is so exciting, isn’t it? Lottie a real Lady.’ Sam clapped her hands together. ‘Does she get to hold tea parties on the lawn and wear a tiara?’
‘No, Sam. She gets to climb up and repair the roof if she can’t work out where to get the money from.’
‘Really? Does she know how?’
‘Nope.’ Pip raised a grin from somewhere, staying serious was impossible with Sam around. ‘Sorry, what were you saying before?’
‘Oh, I said wouldn’t you like one, babe? You know, a little mini-me. It would be so amazing.’
Pip, who was accustomed to hearing Sam talk about hair extensions and facelifts, hoped she’d misunderstood the question. ‘One what?’
‘You know, a baby. Doesn’t every girl really want one?’
She wasn’t sure now which was worse, worrying about Elizabeth and Lottie, or this conversation. ‘Sam, I don’t even want a dog, let alone a baby.’ She stared at the glamorous Sam and wondered what on earth it was that triggered baby lust in a woman after she’d been with the same man for any length of time. Personally, she was more interested in a different type of lust, which was pretty incompatible with babies, as far as she could see. And she’d thought Samantha Simcock would be the same. After all, if a girl is married to the seriously ripped England goalkeeper, lives in a mansion and has access to as many designer clothes as her heart desires, why on earth would she want to swap them for dirty nappies and middle-of- the-night feeds? ‘You’re not telling me you…?’
Sam shrugged, which Pip took as a bad sign. And even though it was only four o’clock in the afternoon, she decided it was probably time to open the wine.
‘Your boobs will sag.’ She passed Sam a glass and hoped that the alcohol would help the conversation take off in a more sensible direction.
‘Ah, that’s no problem, babe. You can always have them done, you know – implants. A lot of men love them all pert and it shows you still care about them, doesn’t it? And you can have them any size you want.’ She grinned. ‘That’s what all the girls do, you know, after they’ve weaned the babbies off them, that is. They won’t do them straight away, of course.’
‘Urgh, I don’t want to hear.’ Pip put her hands over her ears and tried not to think what Mick’s reaction would be if she landed him with a baby and a new pair of boobs. ‘And you’ll get bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. Implants won’t help with those.’
‘Oh bags are just so easy to fix, babe. I know one girl who had a job lot, you know –boobs and a bit of lipo on her thighs as well as having her eye bags sorted. I’m sure she got a really good deal for having the lot done all at once.’ She looked at Pip with an earnest expression. ‘You shouldn’t let a bit of sagging stop you.’
‘I’m not, believe me. When you’ve had as many brothers and sisters as I have, not to mention a load of cousins. then it puts you off bum-wiping for life.’
‘You
