Authors: Paddy Cummins
'I'm only for your good, Jenny. Can't you see that. I don't want you killing yourself.'
'Don't be silly, Ken. I'm not going to kill myself. And even
if I did? So what? I'd be dead, wouldn't I? We can all be done without.'
'You're the one that's being silly now, Jenny.'
'Oh am I? Look Ken ... I don't stop you from playing your
golf. I didn't object when you made that practice putting green in the front lawn. Why should I? It's your hobby. Well, horses are my hobby and will always be my hobby.'
'Well, I'm not agreeing and that's that! You can tell Mr
Lyons when he rings in the morning ... that's it ... that's the end of it.'
'Alright then! Have your way ... but you'll regret it Ken.'
'Why will I regret it?' He couldn't let her finish with that threat. 'I'm only doing it for you, Jenny ... for your safety, your health,
your well-being. That's important, isn't it? What about the family were hoping to start ... perhaps even started ... it's about time you began acting responsible, Jenny.'
That pierced a raw nerve - the sting went right through her.
She couldn't take any more of this degrading bullshit. It was her cue to impart the devastating news. That would put him in his place, but could she? The emotion and anger was overpowering. Bursting into tears, she jumped up, faced
towards the door, doubled back to look him straight in the eye.
'You can forget about that, Ken! Put it out of your head. There is no family. There will be no family. Just forget it. It's not going to
happen. It's finished, over, done with. Just forget it!'
She turned and exited the room, slamming the door behind her. Ken leaped up, followed her into the hallway. Too late. She was at the top of the stairs.
'Jenny,' he called out, 'Jenny wait.'
'Just leave me alone.'
He watched from the first step as she disappeared behind the slammed shut door of the spare bedroom. His legs felt weak, his blood pressure
was soaring, the shock of her parting words sent his mind spinning. Her period must have arrived to-day. Pain and guilt seeped through him. She was probably feeling sick at work, worse still to have to arrive home with that news, then to be attacked like that as soon as she entered the house.
"Jesus
Christ! What
a bastard I am ... all over a few old stables."
Regret and remorse flooded his mind. If he had only known.
"She was probably going to tell me ... I didn't
give her the chance."
He
hated himself. What could he do now? Nothing. It's too late - the harm is done - maybe tomorrow. But then tomorrow would probably be worse. That man is ringing in the morning. There's also the Golf Tournament. How is going to face
her? What will he say? One way would be to get up early, get out of the house, away out of sight - anywhere. Back in the kitchen, he made a fresh coffee, drank a couple of mouthfuls. Deflated and miserable, he pulled himself up the stairs and shuffled to his forlorn bedroom.
Jenny lay on top of the bedclothes sobbing. She felt feverish and hurting all over. She wished it was all a bad dream - everything would be back to normal in the morning. It wasn't. It wouldn't. It might never
be back to normal. She wasn't sure this spare bedroom was a good idea - an impulsive thing - too late now. She just needed to be alone - she'd stick it out - let Ken know she wasn't going to be treated like a child. He was very selfish and unfair, thinks he has nothing to do but click his fingers and she would
conform to his commands. Well, he's wrong. She's not going to be his robot. She had her own life to live, her own career, her own hobbies - he wouldn't stop her. He might stop the stables, but that would be the biggest blunder he could
make. It wouldn't keep her away from the horses. Never! No chance!
She sat up, dried her face, looked in the mirror, saw that she was still a vibrant young woman and thought: I'm not going to be kept down
by Ken or anyone else. I have a life to live and I'm going to live it. A new determination filled her, a wave of optimism replaced frustration and despair. The word 'Freedom' was now flashing brightly in her mind.
That's it! Go for
it, Jenny! Reach for it! Cherish it!
She felt transformed. A feeling of having escaped from some crippling bondage - was now free to go and do whatever she wanted. That row, though painful, might have been the best thing ever, a defining moment - for
her - for both of them. Things would never be the same again.
There would be no babies - she'd have to settle for that, nothing she could do about it. But there would be horses - and hunting - that's for sure. Andy would come to the rescue - he has plenty of stables. She loved
Andy, going over there, something about the place, peaceful, tranquil, welcoming. She really missed it since her accident. She would go over tomorrow to see Andy and Madge - have a chat with Andy about a stable. That would be
easy - he'd give her the lot if she asked for them. God, if only Ken could be like that.
She felt a new woman. This spare bedroom wasn't so bad after all - she didn't feel alone or lonely. Undressed, she slipped under the
bedclothes and was soon sound asleep.
* * *
She woke at seven o'clock, like every other morning, despite there being no clock/radio in the spare bedroom. Force of habit, Jenny thought, as she hazily tried to comprehend her strange surroundings, size up her new
situation. Outside, a car was revving before taking off. Through the split in the curtains she just caught a glimpse of Ken's Honda exiting the driveway.
He's up early, off to his golf - I hope he enjoys his
little hobby - the silly twit. If he had a brain he'd know that I must have a hobby too - try to help me. He's either down right stupid, or plain selfish.
Down in the kitchen, she felt like having a real whopper of
an Irish breakfast. She was surprised and delighted to be feeling so well despite the episode last night. That was all behind her now. It was painful, but it was useful too - cleared the air. From now on she would do her own
thing, be herself, live her own life and not give a damn about what others might think.
The orange juice and fruit musli went down great. The rashers and eggs were sizzling, the jug kettle was puffing steam - the phone
rang. It startled her - she didn't get many calls so early on a Saturday morning.
Suddenly, it dawned on her, Mr Lyons! Oh God! What would she say to him? She had meant to rehearse something. Maybe she should let it ring, pretend they were still in bed - he'd probably ring back later. She lowered the
grill, made her way slowly to the hall, watched the phone begging to be answered. She waited for it to stop, but it kept ringing.
God, he's so persistent.
She relented, picked up the receiver, and in her executive tone
said:
'Hello, Jenny Howard/McKevitt speaking - how can I help you?'
'Hi Jenny! It's me, Garry ... how are you?'
A wave of enormous relief swept through her, followed by a
rush of sheer exhilaration, She felt her whole being lightening up. It couldn't be - it was! That voice always cheered her up. His timing to-day was incredible - as if some kind of telepathy was at work.
'Oh Garry, it's you! I'm fine ... delighted to hear from you
... how did you know my number?'
'I rang Mr Leahy ... he gave it to me ... nice man.'
'He's a star. Well, how are you? How are the horses? Any
winners since?'
'Oh I'm fine, the horses are grand ... no runners since ... won't be long though. How are things with yourself?'
She paused.
'Well, physically I'm fine.' She hesitated again, took a
deep breath, he waited curiously.
'I really miss the horses, Garry,' lowering her voice, forgetting that Ken wasn't around to hear her. 'Just can't live without them ... I'll have to do something soon.'
'Well Jenny, I have a bit of news that might interest you
... that's why I rang.'
'Oh yeah? What's that?' she couldn't wait.
Well, it's good news and it's bad news ... I'll tell you the bad news first.'
'Oh Garry, what is it?'
'You never met the lady that bought the big mare, did you? Mrs Dilworth.'
'No, I'm afraid I didn't.'
'Well,' he hesitated, 'sadly she got killed in a car accident.'
'Oh no! Oh that's terrible, Garry.'
'Yeah, it is ... about three weeks ago. It's very sad, a lovely lady, a real friend to me. I'm looking after the mare for her husband ... he's the local Rector, a real nice man too.
'Must be awful for him, Garry.'
'Anyway, the good news is: He has the mare entered in the sales ... he can't keep her ... she has to go ... she's for sale, Jenny.'
'Oh, Garry, I'd be really interested in her ... she'd be ideal for me, wouldn't she?'
'I'd say so, but you'd want to be in the whole of your health to ride her ... she's very strong.'
Ah, I'd manage her alright, Garry ... sure that's the type
of horse I'd love.'
'I know you would ... that's why I'd like to get her for you.'
'But would he sell her before the sales. You know, privately.'
'I really don't know, Jenny. But I'll find out this morning. I'll be going over there soon now and I'll ask him.'
'Oh Garry, would you, please? You're great ... you're a star! Will you ring me back as soon as you know? I could even go down to-day to
see her ... sure a couple of hours would bring me down.'
'I will, surely ... and we'll take it from there then, right?
That's brilliant, Garry, I'll let you off then and talk to
you later ... and thanks a million!'
She was now in a tizzy, her brain trying to comprehend this exciting new development. This was a real stroke of luck. Terrible about the poor woman though. But Garry! That lad was like a breath of fresh air. Every
time she heard his voice it did something to her - never failed to excite her. She smiled warmly to herself -
And I don't even know what he looks like.'
Rector Bart Dilworth couldn't believe his luck when Garry
put the proposal to him. Certainly, he would sell the mare to this young lady. He'd be happy to take even less than her cost price. It would save him the bother and expense of taking her to the sales, veterinary examinations,
vaccinations, transport etc, things that for him would be a real nuisance. If four thousand pounds was acceptable, he would be quite happy to sell. He would have done a good deal, his late wife would be happy, the mare would be going to
a good home and would be well looked after.
Garry immediately relayed the good news, complete with directions to Dream Valley. Jenny was ecstatic. This was just wonderful, so exciting, beyond her wildest dreams. It could be the new dawn of her new life
of freedom - it couldn't have come at a better time.
She would follow Garry's directions, drive down to Dream Valley, see the mare, see him and his horses, enjoy the fresh air, the countryside, the big welcoming world out there. This was a miracle.
Come on
Jenny! Lets go!
The phone rang. It was Mr Lyons, the builder. Jenny now had a new confidence, could handle anything or anyone. She explained diplomatically that her husband and herself had discussed the matter, had decided to postpone
the building for a while. It was just a matter of timing. She hoped it wouldn't inconvenience him, apologised, saying she would contact him when the were ready to start. Mr Lyons was understanding, though sounding a little disappointed.
The sun was beaming down from a clear blue sky as Jenny cruised down through Kildare and Carlow, reaching the picturesque South Kilkenny village of Graigue-na-managh around mid-day. She didn't have much time
to savour the beauty, but admired its old world charm, its winding, rippling river and its majestic centrepiece, the beautiful and ancient Duiske Abbey. She manoeuvred the Mondeo through the infamous 'hole in the wall' - an opening to a
narrow lane off the main street - revved up the hill and out into the countryside again.
Turning at the top of the hill, she was now skirting the slopes of the idyllic Mount Brandon and her eyes filled with the multi-coloured
tapestry that stretched for miles ahead of her. It was like a massive patchwork quilt, with each patch a little green field. Some fields were dotted with peacefully grazing sheep, some with sleeping cows and cattle and some adorned with buttercups and daisies. It was a glimpse of Heaven, grabbed her heart, filling her being with sheer ecstasy. Jenny just had to stop the car. She couldn't drive and absorb the breathtaking beauty and drive at the same time. She stepped out, took a deep breath, felt intoxicated by the exquisite beauty, the
excitement, the anticipation of what she would find beyond in that valley and the thought of being part of it, even for a day. She drove on.
She knew she was close to Garry's place when she passed the
old castle, half of which had surrendered to the passing centuries, lay collapsed in a heap of stones, the other half standing defiantly. Down the steep hill and along the winding road for half a mile and there it was on the left, the
entrance to the lane, no more than the width of the Mondeo.
He had warned her about the lane. The surface was dusty and rugged, the bends were sharp, designed in the stone age to keep little field boundaries intact, but Jenny's driving passed the test with honours.
Rounding the final double hairpin, straightening for the last downhill roll, the view almost took her breath away. Garry's little holding. Descending the lane, she could see over the rooftops and across the
valley, which was doted with similar little homesteads, a landscape of charm and beauty.
Garry's little place was just magic to her eyes, like something out of a glossy Irish Calendar depicting 'Old Homesteads of Ireland'
Perched on the side of the hill, overlooking the rich green valley, it had a warmth and friendliness about it. The thatched house and the little stone buildings were a reminder of days long gone and of simple country folk who
lived their lives without affluence or grandeur, just happy and contented with the natural riches that surrounded them. She felt she was going back in time as she drove through the white-washed piers and parked in the centre of the cobbled stone yard. To her right was the quaint old thatched dwelling house, in
front was a line of stables, with their pricked-eared occupants peering over their half-doors, curious to identify the rare visitor.
A little man was sweeping the concrete path in front of the
stables. He turned, looked without straightening up, then continued. That certainly wasn't Garry.
A small hardy looking girl was delivering hay to each stable, briskly, almost ignoring Jenny's arrival. Still no sign of Garry. She
prepared to get out. The loud thud on the rear of the car startled her. She looked round - it was him, signalling his presence - his way of unveiling himself, of lightening the introduction, starting with a laugh - it worked.
She got out, leaned back against the car, arms folded,
smiling broadly. Their eyes met. For a moment neither spoke. Jenny broke the silence.
'So this is my life-saver.'
Clad in an open-neck blue check shirt, wrangler jeans, brown
riding boots - he was near to what she envisaged him to be. Perhaps a bit taller, more boyish looking, but what a stunner. Those perfect features, big blue eyes, curly blonde hair, pearly white teeth dazzling through big succulent
lips. Somehow she expected him to be special, didn't know why, just a hunch. She wasn't disappointed, he had everything, looks, personality, warmth.
Garry was contrasting the Jenny that stood before him with the one he carried unconscious through the field at Punchestown only a few
months previously. That day he wasn't sure whether she would live or die - no one knew. Now she was here looking brilliant, healthy, vibrant, adventurous, ready for anything. Skin-tight blue jeans and white tee-shirt emphasised her
shapely figure. Tall, yet no more then eight stone, sparkling blue eyes beaming from her perfect soft features, shining blonde hair brushed back under a band giving her a girlish look, that belied her real age. He was astonished by her
beauty, even a little overawed by her presence. He wasn't used to this, felt awkward, intimidated almost. This girl was like someone out of a glossy magazine. He felt the luckiest man in Ireland to have such a special person as a friend.
'Welcome to Dream Valley, Jenny.'
'Thanks, Garry. Thanks for everything. I really do appreciate all this ... you don't know what you've done for me.'
'Oh, never mind that ... come on, I'll show you the horses.'
He introduced her to Johnny ... 'my yard foreman and maintenance manager.'
'Responsible position,' joked Jenny, shaking his hand.
'Mornin' Mam.'
Emily was keeping her distance, shy of strangers, preferring
to get on with her work.
'You have to meet my 'Head Lass' ... this is Emily ... the best in the business.'
'Hi Emily, that sure is real praise ... a good time to ask
him for a raise in salary,' she joked.
'Oh, I don't know' ... blushing, she shook hands, then continued with her work.
In each stable the chat lasted ten minutes, after which Jenny knew all about each horse, its breeding, its temperament, its ability and
its potential. The tenth stable was empty. The bed was laid, the walls smelled of disinfecting, it seemed to be specially prepared for a new inmate. Jenny remembered Garry telling her that all the stables were full. What happened
here?
He explained.
'The little horse went home to his owner this morning. He was a bit weak and backward ...would need another year to develop. I had to be honest with the man ... no use taking money under false pretences.'
Very admirable, thought Jenny.
'Now you'll have to find another one, won't you?'
She interpreted his look and wry smile as meaning 'I have
all that arranged.
'Come on ... I'll hook on the horse trailer ... we'll head over to Dilworth's. The Rector will be expecting us.'
She climbed into the old Land-Rover. Soon they were out of
the lane, heading left across the side of the hill. She lowered her side window. The cool breeze was refreshing, the scenery magnificent, the feeling of carefree abandon with this young adventurer made her feel like a teenager again. This was the life, exactly what she had been missing - she wanted more
of it.
Bart Dilworth and Garry stood back as Jenny made friends with the big bay mare. She seemed to enjoy the attention of a woman, having got used to Mrs Dilworth's mothering. She wasn't taking any chances though.
Smelling Jenny's breasts, stretching her neck to exchange breaths, she soon felt re-assured. Jenny stroked her face, tickled her underneath the jawbones and patted her neck. That was nice - she was enjoying it. Each step Jenny took
backwards, the mare followed her, she wanted more tickling - they were now friends.
'Has she been named yet?' Jenny asked, hoping that she wasn't. It would be fun thinking up a nice name for her.