tied him to the side of the lorry, came to join us. He sat down.
‘Sure no one saw?’ he murmured.
‘No.’
‘Right. Then stay shtum. These things happen.’
I thought this over a moment. Suddenly I was on my feet, furious. I pointed my finger at him; it waggled a bit. ‘You see? That’s where I’ve got it from! My criminal tendencies! It’s learned behaviour! That’s what you’ve taught me, what you’d do!’ I glared at him accusingly.
‘Well, no, actually. I’d have owned up at the time.’
‘Would you?’ I crumpled instantly, aghast. ‘Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. Oh, Dad, I wish I had!’ I wailed. ‘But in the heat of the moment – so many scary people, so fierce-looking … And it’s a bit late now, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly, after the event. Just let sleeping dogs … well.’ He stopped awkwardly realizing where that was going. ‘It’s a serious occurrence, though, in the hunting world, Poppy.’
‘I know!’ I quaked.
‘Oh, piffle,’ said Jennie staunchly. ‘They’ve got hundreds of the bloody things. And let’s not get too carried away here; you didn’t kill him, Thumper did. At least he didn’t kick a child.’
‘Would have been better,’ I said gloomily.
Dad nodded in sober agreement. ‘She’s right, Jennie.’
‘Which just shows how bloody stupid the whole thing is! I mean, they’re out to kill an animal anyway, aren’t they? And it’s only a bloody dog. Christ, I wish it had been Leila. She escaped, incidentally, joined the pack, briefly.’
‘Really?’ I raised my head. Even in my despair this was diverting.
‘Oh, yes. Was galloping joyously in the middle of all those dogs in her zany collar, looking very Vivienne Westwood, until your dad managed to persuade a guy on a quad bike to nab her. And you think you’ve blotted your copy book.’
I knew she was trying to make me feel better but as I drove her car home later, Jennie having gone with Dan, who’d come in his Land Rover, my father returning with Thumper, I felt the world was on my shoulders.
‘Chatham House rules, OK, love?’ Dad had said, before he left.
‘What are they?’
‘Mum’s the word.’
‘Oh. OK.’
Mum’s the word, I thought gloomily. Until somehow it leaked out. Which it would. And then heaven knows what the word would be. Murderess? Coward? Witch? I cringed behind the wheel. Clemmie was making Archie laugh in the back, imitating me. ‘Mummy riding,’ she was saying, holding imaginary reins right up under her chin, eyes and mouth wide with terror, bouncing in her car seat. And Archie was laughing as only a two-year-old can: as if he was going to be sick. I tried to count my blessings, which seemed to me to be just two. Those two in the back. No chance now with Sam of course; I’d blown that entirely. In fact I couldn’t quite imagine what planet I’d been on to allow it to cross my mind. He was so far out of my league, with his smart friends and his manor house, he was practically in a different stratosphere. And did I want all that, anyway? Imagine having to hunt every week. Having a near-death experience on a regular basis with all those terrifying people. No. I purred down my lane. That whole way of life was not for me: it was too fast, too glamorous, too much.
As I drew up outside my cottage I saw someone ringing my doorbell: a man. Oh God, had they come for me already? I got out warily. But as he turned around I saw it was only Luke, who smiled when he saw me. I relaxed. This man, however, with a face that lit up at the sight of me, was much more my speed. Why hadn’t I spotted it before? Because he seemed reasonably keen? Because he liked me? What in hell’s name was wrong with that, Poppy?
‘Luke.’ I smiled too as I shut the car door, genuinely pleased to see him. Jeans and a navy blue jersey. Freshly washed hair. Normal. Uncomplicated. No spurs.
I lifted Archie out of his car seat and my children ran around the back of the house to get the back-door key from under the geranium pot. Clemmie could just about reach the lock to let them in.
‘Christ, have you had an accident?’
My heart lurched at the thought of Peddler.
‘N-no, why?’ Had he heard?
‘You’re literally covered in mud!’
‘Oh.’ I glanced down, relieved. ‘Oh no, just the detritus of the hunting field. Come in, Luke.’