Distraction

Chapter Twelve

Tentatively, Libby unlatched the gate to Low Wood Farm. Would Robbie mind her just turning up? She hoped not because she needed some time to think, a little space, and the yard was the only place she wanted to be.  

Tallulah came out of the house, grinning. 'You're not supposed to be here. Dad said he'll be out in a minute. Do you fancy going riding later? Dad might let me ride Dol if I'm with you?' 

'No, he won't,' Robbie said, as he came out of the house with two mugs of tea. 'You do know it's Tuesday?'  

'I didn't want to be at home.' Libby leant on the shavings fork for a moment. 'Do you mind?' 

'Of course not. What's up?' he asked, lighting one of her cigarettes. 'Fighting with Zoe?'  

'She's at work. How's Jupiter's fetlock?' She trundled the wheelbarrow into Jupiter's box, not wanting to discuss why she was there, not yet.  

The odd cotton wool clouds, dotted around the sky, provided little reprieve from the midday sun as Libby clattered into the yard, daydreaming of the spray back when she hosed Storm down. 

'Ugh, I wish we had a swimming pool.' Tallulah lifted her leg over Shakespeare's neck and jumped down with utter disregard for safety. 

'Don't let your dad see you do that.' 

'She'll learn the hard way.' Robbie wandered in from the garden, mercifully more clothed than Libby had last seen him.  

He'd been shirtless and rebuilding a wall gap in the small paddock when she'd trotted out of the yard over two hours ago. Despite her best efforts not to, Libby stared, so absorbed watching the muscles in his back, she almost fell off when Storm shied at a lurking sheep. Dear god. Robbie didn't have Jack's six pack but he didn't need it. Trim, tanned, toned, the whole package was better than she'd imagined. Why wasn't he single? 

'I was about to send out the search party,' he said. 'Good ride?' 

Libby nodded. 'Bit too hot.' Like you. 

'When you're done, lunch is ready.'  

'But...' Libby stared as he headed back into the garden. He'd made lunch, for her? 

With the horses hosed down, turned out and rolling in the dusty grass, Libby tentatively followed Tallulah into the garden. Sure enough, Robbie sat with Matilda and Dora at a large wooden table laden with roast chicken, bread, salad, olives and a bottle of chilled chardonnay.  

'It is our day off.' He winked as she sat down. 'Don't worry, it's still salad. No tuna or chick peas though.' 

She'd tried to give him her most annoyed scowl for mocking her usual lunch box, but when he flashed his fabulous smile, it was all she could do not to blush. He'd made her lunch.  

For an hour, they ate, drank and laughed. Dora entertained them with lisped nursery rhymes and Matilda showed off with the Alphabet song. Libby sat back feeling thoroughly part of the family. How long had it been since she could say that? 

'Lulu, take Dora for a walk in her pushchair?' Robbie stood up, a half-asleep Dora curled up in his arms. 'Tilly, are you going too?' 

As the three sisters headed down the bridleway, Libby lit a cigarette and tossed him the packet, prepared for the interrogation. 'Go on.'  

'What's up?'  

'Boy trouble.' 

'Again?' He stretched out his legs. 'Christ, you don't hang around. Who?'