It Started With A Tweet(43)

The bumpy road is no match for the off-roader, and Rosie’s going to be back at the farm in no time.

‘When you say “borrow”, you mean, you stole it,’ he says, his scowl back on his face.

‘You say “steal”, I say “borrow”. It’s all semantics.’

‘Why did you need to take someone’s phone? What happened to yours?’

‘My sister threw it down a well, along with her own.’

He looks at me like I’m quite barmy.

‘Don’t worry, it was in Tupperware so it won’t get wet, and the well’s dry.’

‘Oh right, because that makes it much more normal.’

‘My sister’s making me do a digital detox; she thinks I’m addicted, but I’m totally not.’

‘And half an hour ago you were hanging off the side of a hillside trying to get a mobile signal. No, not addicted at all.’

Just when I was starting to warm to him .?.?.

I can’t believe I’m wasting precious time trying to explain myself when I should be trying to beat them back to the house. I start moving again, hurrying along, and I find myself accidentally dragging Jack along too, who’s still attached to the rope.

‘Hey, what are you doing?’ he says almost jogging to keep up. ‘You’re never going to get there in time.’

‘But what am I going to do?’ I say, power-walking the best I can in my stupid shoes. I stop in frustration, wondering if I should just throw the phone into the bushes rather than get caught red-handed.

Jack sighs again. ‘Bloody tourists, they’re always getting themselves into trouble. Come on.’

He drops the rope, seeing as we’re now walking on the gravel path that, as far as I can tell, connects Rosie’s farm to his. I try to keep up and we make it into the courtyard of Upper Gables at the same time as the Land Rover.

‘Hello, hello,’ says Rosie jumping out of the car at the sight of us. ‘What the bloody hell happened to you? Go for a mud bath, did we?’

I can see her eyeing my appearance and carefully looking at Jack to see what role he’s played in all this.

‘Very funny. Just went for a little walk and it’s a tad muddy.’

‘Just a tad,’ she echoes, laughing. ‘I’m Rosie, by the way. I gather we’re neighbours.’

‘Jack,’ he says, shaking the hand she’s holding out for him.

‘Nice to meet you. Liz and Gerry were telling us all about you.’

For a moment I wonder if he’s going to abandon me and skulk off at the mention of the village gossips.

‘So I gather.’

Rosie walks round to the back of the Land Rover and opens the boot, revealing the extent of their shopping trip.

‘Oh wow, how many bathrooms are you renovating?’ I say, marvelling at the contents.

‘Daisy,’ says Alexis, rushing over and looking at my front in horror as he gets out of the car.

For a second I’m worried that he knows I’ve got his phone in my pocket, but then I realise that he’s looking at the mud.

‘Oh, I’m fine, just a little slip when I was out hiking.’

‘It is good? You are all right?’

‘Fine.’

‘Then, this is for you. A treat,’ he says handing me a Boost, my all-time favourite chocolate bar.

‘Thanks, my favourite. How did you know?’ I ask, looking at Rosie, but she shrugs her shoulders. ‘Thank you.’

I stare at it for a second, as if he’s just given me the crown jewels, but Jack coughs and reminds me of his presence.

Alexis looks him up and down as if unsure how he fits into all this, and I notice that he’s a bit slow to acknowledge him properly.

‘Alexis,’ he says thrusting his hand out.

‘Jack.’

‘Alexis is our help-ex worker,’ I say, before he thinks he’s Rosie’s husband.

I notice that he doesn’t say enchanté to him like he purred at us yesterday.

‘Do you want me to give you a hand? Perhaps Alexis and I can take this in?’ says Jack.

‘I should be able to manage,’ says Rosie, being more polite than actually protesting at the offer of help.

‘I insist,’ he says through gritted teeth.

Alexis leans into the boot, and as Jack follows suit he raises an eyebrow at me and I realise that that’s my cue. I scuttle over to the front door, throwing my shoulder to it with such ferocity that I’m like a human ramrod. I go flying through into the kitchen and manage to shove the phone back on the table just as Rosie follows me in, carrying bright orange carrier bags.

She dumps them onto the table before heading out to get some more.

‘You can help, you know,’ she calls over her shoulder.

‘Be right there,’ I say, double-checking the phone is in the same position that I found it in.

Alexis and Jack walk in carrying a toilet awkwardly between them, with Rosie shouting orders.

‘Let’s keep it down here in the living room until we rip out the old suite.’

I go to the back of the car and pick up a collection of boxed taps and some paint. Even that’s a struggle; my fingers still haven’t straightened themselves out since they were clutching the rock. The wind did change when I was up there. What if they’re going to stay like that forever?