“J-P?” repeated Henrietta with a laugh.
“That’s his nickname. He’s J-P, I’m Gus-the-Strong and Storm is Bright-Sky.”
“I like it,” she enthused.
He shouted again. “He’s probably in the cottage garden. He’s always in there.” Henrietta longed for Jean-Paul to appear, but he didn’t. Gus scampered down the ladder and disappeared inside the hollow tree.
At eleven she took them hot chocolate and digestive biscuits in their tree house. She went down on all fours, not caring that her knees were in the mud, chasing them around the tree, pretending to be Captain Hook. Then she thrust her head into the aperture and shouted, “Ooh-aah, me hearties!”, her large behind sticking out like a mushroom. That is how Jeremy Fitzherbert’s dogs found her. They sniffed her bottom with excitement as she struggled to extract herself. When she emerged, her hair was a mess, her face flushed and her blue eyes were glittering like dewy corn-flowers. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” said Jeremy, grinning at the sight of her.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she gushed, pushing herself up. “I’m a pirate.”
“You make a very good pirate,” he replied, looking her up and down. She tried to smoothe her hair.
“More like Pooh-Bear stuck in Rabbit’s front door, I think. You got the wrong end, I’m afraid.”
“Nothing wrong with that end. It looked perfect to me.”
“Have we met?” she asked, puzzled.
“Indeed. You’re Henrietta Moon, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She frowned.
“I’m Jeremy Fitzherbert. I own the neighboring farm.”
“Of course we’ve met,” she replied, as everything clicked into place.
“I’ve been into your shop. You sell those large jars of candy sticks. They’re my favorites.”
“Mine, too,” she exclaimed, feeling bad at not having remembered him. “The butterscotch ones especially.”
“Exactly. Once I start I can’t stop.”
“Unfortunately that’s my problem, too.”
“You look very well on it.”
She stared at him, not knowing what to say. She wasn’t used to compliments. She didn’t imagine for a minute that he meant it. There passed a moment of awkwardness while Henrietta struggled to move her tongue and Jeremy found himself swallowed into her aquamarine eyes. He wanted to tell her how beautiful they were, but immediately felt embarrassed. She had probably heard it a hundred times before.
“Bonjour, Jeremy,” came a voice. They both turned to see Jean-Paul striding up the path towards them, his jovial greeting breaking the silence. Henrietta caught her breath at the sight of his smile and felt her stomach lurch like it used to do as a child on fairground rides. “Bonjour, madame,” he said to her. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, bowing formally. Henrietta didn’t know where to look. She felt the prickly heat of embarrassment rise up her neck to her throat, spreading across her skin in a mottled rash. No one had ever kissed her hand before. It must be a French thing, she thought, struggling to recover.
“I’ve brought you the small tractor and trailer you wanted,” said Jeremy. It appeared that neither had noticed her sudden wilting. Storm and Gus wriggled out of the hole in the tree to run about with the dogs.
“Thank you,” said Jean-Paul. “That will be a big help.” They talked about the gardens, the farm and the weather, unusually warm for that time of year, while Henrietta listened, too shy to utter a single word. Finally, Jean-Paul turned to her. “I gather you are looking after Gus-the-Strong and Bright-Sky today,” he said, his eyes deep and twinkling.
“Yes,” she croaked.
“How do you like my house?”
“It’s terrific, it really is.”
“I see you completed the ladder,” said Jeremy, patting the wood. “Good solid oak, that.” Henrietta envied the ease with which he spoke to Jean-Paul. “Have you been up?” he asked her.
“No,” she replied. “As you saw, I had difficulty getting out. I’m sure I’d suffer worse coming down!”
“Not at all. Come on!” Jeremy stood on the first rung of the ladder. “Feels solid,” he said.
“It should be. I made it to take the weight of an elephant,” said Jean-Paul.
“Then it should hold me,” Henrietta laughed nervously, praying that it wouldn’t collapse beneath her weight. She regretted every croissant she had ever eaten. Jeremy climbed up first, then he encouraged Henrietta to follow. She placed her feet tentatively on the first rung, then the second, waiting for the crack as the wood snapped in two.