“No! They were waiting for her! For us! Apparently they kept emailing and she sent reassuring emails back. But clearly they were on one page while she was on the fucking…moon. So at last they phone up Adrian directly—this is yesterday morning—and he’s like, what the hell?”

“So…I mean…” My mind is working hard. “Have you told Demeter about this?”

“Of course! We had a whole series of calls about it yesterday. But—this is the worst bit—she seems totally confused. She maintains she didn’t make a mistake, that it’s Allersons’ fault, and when she gets back from holiday she’ll show us. But we have the email trail proving the opposite. The whole thing’s messed up. Adrian’s given up talking to her. Everyone’s given up on her. They think she’s lost it.” Alex looks genuinely miserable.

“And so that’s why she’s being fired?” I press him. “That one incident?”

“There’s been other stuff.” He folds his arms around his rangy body, looking harassed. “There was a faux pas where she forwarded an email to the wrong address. I’m sure you heard about that.”

I wince. “Yes, I did.”

“She had to grovel to Forest Food, big-time. Then there was a big cock-up with Sensiquo….”

“I remember that too.” I nod, recalling Rosa screaming at Demeter in the ladies’. “Kind of. I mean, I just overheard stuff,” I add hastily.

“She won Sensiquo round, but again, it was a massive, needless drama. And then generally we’ve had so many complaints about her leadership, her manner with the juniors, her flakiness….” He brings his fists to his forehead in frustration. “I just don’t get it. I worked for Demeter in my first job and she was fabulous. She was brilliant. She was encouraging. She was on it. I mean, yes, she was always a bit impulsive, a bit erratic, but that was Demeter. You put up with it because of the flashes of genius. And she basically kept everything under control. She ran a tight ship. But now…” He sighs. “I don’t know what’s happened to her. I look like a fool, for hiring her, for sticking up for her—”

“You call this sticking up for her?” I can’t help sounding incredulous. “Coming to fire her on her holiday?”

“I did my best for her, OK?” His eyes become dark and defensive. “And I’d rather do this than have her arrive at work on Monday, get summoned to Adrian, and it’s all in front of her team. I volunteered to come down here, believe it or not. I’m trying to give her some dignity and space—” He suddenly breaks off. “Anyway, why do you care? I thought you hated her.”

“Oh, I do,” I say quickly. “She’s the one who let me go, remember? Bitch. She deserves all she gets.”

“She’s not really a bitch,” says Alex slowly. “I know everyone thinks she is, but she’s not. She gets a bad rap and I’m not sure why.”

I want to say: I know what you mean. I want to say: I’m starting to see Demeter in a different light. But obviously I can’t say that. So instead I pick a cornflower and pull all its petals off, which is a bad habit of mine.

“Katie!” Biddy’s reproving voice hits my ears. “Leave that poor cornflower alone!”

I give a rueful grin. That is typical Biddy, to catch me out. She’s coming into the garden with a laden tray, and I hurry over to help her. The tray has on it a coffee press, cup and saucer, milk jug, two scones with jam and clotted cream, a slice of lemon drizzle cake, and a couple of chocolate chip cookies.

“Oh my God, Biddy,” I say in a whisper, as I help her arrange it all on our wrought-iron garden table and put up an umbrella against the sun. “Did you give him enough to eat, do you think?”

“I wanted to give him a good welcome!” she whispers back. “He’s our first guest! So, Mr. Astalis!” She stands up. “Please come and have a proper West Country morning coffee, and then I’ll show you to your room.”

As Alex sits down at the table, he looks a bit thunderstruck. But he smiles charmingly at Biddy and compliments everything: “These scones! And the jam—is that homemade?”

Eventually Biddy goes back inside, and Alex puts down the scone. “I cannot eat all this,” he says. “Sorry. It’s just not happening. I had breakfast on the road about, what, an hour ago?”

“Don’t worry.” I laugh. “Biddy just wanted to make you welcome.”

“And ‘welcome’ would be Somerset slang for ‘a coronary patient’?” Alex eyes the dish of clotted cream and I laugh again.

“Seriously, you do have to try her lemon drizzle cake. It’s amazing.”

“I will.” Alex’s expression turns sober. “But not now.” He wraps up the lemon drizzle cake in a napkin, then puts his hands flat on the table. “Enough procrastinating. I need to do this. Do you know where Demeter is?”

My stomach lurches. Don’t give away anything.

“Let Biddy show you your room first,” I say easily. “Please. It won’t take long. She’s so excited to have you. Actually…” I hesitate. “You’re our first B&B guest.”

“Really?” Alex looks surprised. “I thought this was an up-and-running business.”

“It is. The glamping is. But the B&B’s new, and Biddy’s quite nervous….”

“Well, I hate to disappoint her.” Alex takes a sip of coffee. “But I probably won’t even use my room.”

“You’re not staying the night?” I try not to sound crestfallen. Because obviously I’m not crestfallen.

“I only booked a room in case things took longer than expected. I’ll pay, of course,” Alex adds quickly. “But staying isn’t the plan. I don’t want to prolong this any more than I have to.”

“Will you still give us a good review on TripAdvisor?” I blurt out before I can stop myself, and Alex laughs.

“Absolutely. Ten stars.”

I smile back. “It only goes up to five.”

“Five and a half, then.” He drains his cup of coffee, then looks at me quizzically, as though greeting me for the first time. “So, Katie Brenner. How have you been?”

“Oh, you know,” I say lightly. “Unemployed, mostly.” He winces, and I add, “No, it’s been fine. Really. It’s been good. I’ve helped my dad start this place up. And Biddy. She’s my stepmum,” I explain.

“You started this from scratch?” He sweeps his arm around.

“Yes.”

“Just the three of you?”

I nod, and Alex picks up the Ansters Farm brochure, which Biddy has helpfully left on the tray. He studies it for a minute, then raises his head. “You know something? I saw this earlier, and I thought: This looks like a piece of Demeter’s work. You’ve learned from her, clearly. Congratulations.”

I feel an inner whoop but simply reply, “Thanks. Oh, and by the way…please can you not mention that you know me to Dad or Biddy?”

“Oh?” Alex seems taken aback.

“It’s…complicated. They don’t know that I know Demeter either. It’s—” I stop dead. “Anyway.”

“Fine,” says Alex after a pause. He sounds confused and even a bit offended, but too bad. I can’t go into it all. Anyway, he probably won’t even hang around long enough to talk to Biddy again, let alone Dad.

I pour him another cup of coffee, and he lifts a hand.

“No, I really have to go.” But then he takes a pensive sip. (Something I’ve learned here: Sixty percent of people who say “no thanks” to more coffee then drink two more cups.) For a while there’s silence except for the sound of children’s laughter drifting over the breeze. I think the kids are with Dad this morning, doing something with scarecrows. After that, they’ll go boating on Fisher’s Lake. They do have a good time here, you can’t argue with that.

I’m feeling a tad awkward and wondering what to say next, when Alex breaks the quiet. “You know, I thought a lot about what you said, your last day at Cooper Clemmow. It got to me. I had a sleepless night or two. I nearly called you up.”

He what?

I’m utterly taken aback. Playing for time, I look away, fidgeting with a spoon. I want to ask him: What are you talking about exactly? What did you want to say? Why did you have sleepless nights? But at the same time, I don’t want to go there. It was all too mortifying.

“Right.” I make the mistake of raising my eyes, and he’s looking right at me with that dark gaze of his.

“Look at you,” he says softly, and I feel a fresh lurch in my stomach. What does that mean? And why is he looking at me like that? Oh God…

OK, full disclosure: The whole not-getting-flustered strategy has bombed. I don’t even know what’s doing it. His eyes? His voice? Just…him?

“Anyway,” I say in a businesslike way. “I’m sorry, but I just have to go and…do a thing.”

“Of course.” Alex seems to come to, and the light in his eyes fades. “You must be very busy. Sorry to have kept you.” He puts down his coffee cup. “Well, here goes. Any idea where Demeter is? Your dad thought she was with you.”

“Demeter?” I say, with a careless shrug. “Sorry, no idea. But I’m sure she’s around somewhere. If I see her, I’ll point her in your direction.”

“If you do see her…” He squints at me against the sunlight. “You won’t say anything to her, will you? Stable-yard rules.”

“Say anything to her?” I echo, as though the idea’s ludicrous. “Of course I won’t. Not a word.”

—

“You’re being fired!” I blurt out as soon as I reach the woodshed. “It’s all true! Adrian’s given up on you, and it’s because of Allersons and that Forest Food email and the thing with Sensiquo and your manner with your staff and…you know. Everything.”

“Everything?” Demeter peers at me from the depths of the woodshed, looking like some hostage emerging from a monthlong ordeal. Unlike me, she has not visited a shower, because she was too paranoid about bumping into Alex. She has dried mud on her face, dust all over her hair, and wood shavings on her shoulders, looking like monster dandruff. Her expression is stricken, and I realize I was perhaps a bit blunt.