There was an awkward pause as both women stood on the landing, each waiting for the other to speak.

Pip broke the moment. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ll just go get the bag.’ And then she headed down the stairs before her mother could question her any further.

In the kitchen, Jez was at the table filling his flask from the huge teapot that her mother kept full for whoever might need a cuppa. Pip hovered in the doorway. She was still in the clothes that she’d spent all night in, her hair unbrushed and what was left of yesterday’s mascara no doubt smudged in black shadows beneath her eyes. It didn’t really matter what Jez thought of her, but something held her back. She didn’t want him to see her looking so dreadful.

It was too late, though. He had heard her, and he looked up and gave her a grin.

‘You look rough,’ he said, and then pulled a face as if he’d remembered why she was back at the farm just too late. ‘God, Pip, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think.’

She put a placatory hand up and shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘I know. I look bloody awful. Didn’t sleep much.’

‘Right,’ he said. There was a pause and then, ‘Well, I’d better get off. Your dad’s waiting for me. Nice to see you though.’ He stared straight at her, his eyes locking with hers and holding her gaze until she looked away.

‘Have a good day,’ she said to his retreating back.

Something about the exchange whisked her back to her teenage self, and she suddenly felt very aware that for all the time she’d been back at the farm, she’d made no effort to connect with him. There had been a period in their lives when the two of them had been as good as joined at the hip. They’d basically grown up together: same school, mutual friends, shared experiences. At one point, they had been really close. As close as it got, in fact – a passionate, urgent desire for sex pushing them together, even though they had always considered themselves friends rather than a couple.

But then she’d gone off to university and he had taken a job on the farm with her dad, and they had drifted away from one another. Or, more truthfully, she had put up her sails and sailed purposefully in the opposite direction towards something new. Then she’d come back, and whilst he must have known what had happened to her – didn’t everyone? – he had decided, or possibly been instructed, not to pry.

Pip realised now that she wished he would pry, just a little. It might feel good to talk to him; he might understand how she felt more than her parents could. He’d always known her better than anyone else in Suffolk, maybe better than anyone anywhere, and she suddenly felt a nostalgic yearning for his slant on her life. Perhaps she would ask him out for a drink one night, for old times’ sake. Her mother had said there was a girlfriend on the scene, but surely two old friends going out for a quick drink wouldn’t upset anyone.