‘I’m going to visit my parents for a couple of days,’ I told Daniel that evening as we ate dinner. ‘I’ve got loads of questions about how they run the Tufted Duck, and getting them on the phone is impossible.’

‘When’s the last time you saw them?’ he asked.

‘I stayed for a weekend last May, but they were full, so too busy to talk much past “Table three want scrambled eggs”.’ I shrugged. ‘Then again, they’re always busy. I can’t remember them ever taking a holiday.’

‘They never visited you in London?’

‘I’m not sure they’ve been further south than Blackpool.’

‘Is that what it’s going to be like for us, once Damson Farm is open for business?’ He stood up and collected my now empty plate.

‘Most definitely not. We can’t run a place to rest and recharge if we never take any time to practice what we preach.’ I got up to help him with clearing up. ‘Although you’re hardly one to talk. You barely take a day off, let alone a holiday.’

‘I took a month’s leave when Charlie died.’ He gave a rueful smile.

‘That wasn’t a holiday.’ I flicked on the kettle. ‘Maybe I should take Hope with me, give you a couple of days off?’ I stopped then, as an even better thought occurred to me. ‘Except then you’d probably end up working even longer hours without Hope to interrupt you. You should come!’

‘What?’ Daniel turned to face me, but he didn’t look horrified.

‘Come to the Tufted Duck. Best breakfast in the Lakes. I’m only going for two nights.’

‘Are you asking me so you don’t have to drive your death-machine?’

‘No! I’m asking because it would be lovely for you to see the place that inspired Charlie to come up with her plans for here. And you could do with the fresh mountain air and soul-stirring views. Wouldn’t it be amazing to spend two whole days without going in your study? No spreadsheets, no conference calls, the only forecasting required being whether to take a coat and what toppings you want on your breakfast pancakes?’

Daniel smiled. ‘Sold.’

Becky was ecstatic about the idea of Daniel and I going on a ‘mini-break’.

‘It’s a research trip!’ I reminded her, for the fifteenth time. ‘I’m going to be gathering information, grilling my parents and mostly holed up in the office while Daniel and Hope go and have fun.’

‘Yeah, I completely believe you,’ she smirked, dipping her brush back into the pot of cornflower paint we were using for Hope’s new bedroom.

‘We’re staying with my parents! And my grandma!’

‘Meeting the family. How very sweet.’

At that point I may have accidentally flicked blue paint in her hair.

23

In order to avoid the weekend crowds, we set off early Monday evening. Our plan was that Hope would sleep in the back of Daniel’s car, but after an hour or so of fretful dozing she was well and truly fed up with the car seat.