Springtime at Cherry Tree Cottage (15 page)

My chest grows tight as I watch the three of them, moving as one with mutual trust. The horses aren't working under duress. They're enjoying it.

Robbie brings them back to walk, pulls up and salutes me.

‘Show off!' I jest, trying to hide the fact that their performance has brought me almost to tears.

He jumps down between Scout and Nelson, landing softly like a cat, and gestures for me to join him.

‘Now you have a go.' One eyebrow shoots up under his fringe as I hesitate. ‘Relax. I'll be close by to hold your hand, metaphorically speaking. All you have to do is balance, go with the horses and remember to use your voice.'

‘Hors
es
, as in both of them?' I'm having severe doubts about my ability to balance on one, let alone two.

‘You'll be too focused on using your voice to control them to worry about keeping your balance. If you're worrying about staying on top, you'll tense up and come off.' He doesn't give me time to argue. ‘I want you to vault on to Nelson – he's as steady as a rock.'

‘He's so big!' A little voice reminds me that I've vaulted on to Rafa's back before, and Nelson isn't much taller. I take a few steps back, spring forwards and upwards, and pull myself on to his back. It isn't elegant, but I make it.

‘I want you to do the same manoeuvre as you did on Woody, moving into a crouch as I walk Nelson along the long side of the school, and then, when you're ready, into a standing position. Remember to breathe,' he adds, as Nelson goes into walk.

I can't believe I'm doing this, I think, as I move into a crouch. That is fine, but when I start to straighten up and push myself up on to my feet, I notice I'm much higher off the ground,
much
higher. I wobble.

‘Right, start talking to the horse,' Robbie instructs. ‘I'll bring Scout alongside. When I say so, you need to push your weight on to your left leg and swing your right leg out.'

‘That sounds like I'm doing the hokey cokey.' I soon discover that laughter and stunt riding are not compatible, and I lose my balance, tipping forwards and sliding back into the astride position.

‘Try again.'

‘I'm not sure I'm cut out for this.'

‘Don't give up. You can do it.' Robbie's confidence is infectious, and soon I'm back on my feet, attempting to stretch between the two horses, so I'm standing with one foot on each of them. It takes three goes, but I make it eventually. ‘That's it. You've got it.'

I keep the horses moving, walking side by side. It's great. I feel fantastic.

‘Thanks, Robbie.'

‘Don't thank me too soon. Keep focused.' He raises his voice as Scout on the outside starts to slow his pace. ‘And don't forget to speak. You have to let the horses know what you want from them.'

It's too late. Scout comes to a complete halt and Nelson keeps going, and my thighs stretch and tear as I do the splits in the air and the ground flies towards me at an alarming rate. I land with a soft bump in the sand.

Robbie is trying not to laugh. It looks as if Nelson could be laughing too, nudging me with his nose, as if to say, ‘What on earth are you doing down there?'

‘Are you okay?' Robbie takes my hand and pulls me up. ‘You were doing so well until you got to that corner.'

‘I was so busy concentrating on staying upright that I forgot to speak.' I brush a load of sand off my bum. Fawn jodhpurs weren't the best choice.

‘On you get.'

‘What?'

‘One more time.'

‘You're a hard taskmaster.'

‘It's the only way. I want my pupils to fulfil their potential. It's important for you to feel you've achieved something today. If you end the lesson now, all you'll remember is sliding off. Come on. Onwards and upwards.'

Ignoring the soreness in my muscles, I vault back on to Nelson. It's easier this time. I remember to keep both horses moving as I step across to balance one foot on Scout's back. They're responsive to every command and I soon have them walking around the school in both directions. I throw my arms in the air. I'm on top of the world.

‘Okay, that's great,' Robbie says. ‘Let's stop there.'

‘Whoah,' I call and the horses come to a halt together. ‘I did it.' I dismount and rub the horses' necks to show my gratitude.

‘Well done. You're a natural.' Robbie moves in as if he's going to thump me on the back like he does his brother but, at the last minute, he reaches around my shoulders and wraps his fingers around my upper arm. My heart pounds as he hesitates for a second time. Standing perfectly still, I glance up. He's staring at me, his gaze travelling down my face, my neck, my breasts … I can hardly breathe as he leans in, his breath caressing my lips.

‘Tell me I've got this right,' he whispers. ‘I thought … I can stop. I mean, I don't want to wreck our friendship.'

‘You've taken me by surprise, that's all.'

‘I didn't think it would be that much of a shock to you. I've fancied you like mad almost since you first arrived in Furzeworthy.'

‘Have you?' I frown.

‘Pretty much since I found you limping along the lane without your horse. I wanted to whisk you up and gallop away with you.'

‘I didn't think you were interested. You treated me like I was one of the lads.'

‘I know. I was trying to avoid any complications. I thought if I could forget you were … a female farrier, I could resist, but I can't do it any more. You are just too gorgeous for words.'

‘Don't speak then.' I tilt my head towards him and touch my lips to his, and we kiss. My head spins. I feel as if I'm dissolving into him.

‘Daddy, I've been looking for you,' a small voice interrupts.

Robbie and I spring apart. I touch my mouth where just a moment ago his lips were in contact with mine. He groans.

‘What are you two doing?' Maisie asks.

‘We were in the middle of something.' He lifts her into his arms. ‘Did you have a good day at school?'

‘Yes.' She gives his nose an affectionate pinch. ‘What thing? Were you kissing?'

‘No, Flick thought she'd been stung by a wasp. I was checking she was all right. She's just had a lesson.'

‘Did my daddy learn you how to be a stunt rider?'

‘It's “teach”,' Robbie says. ‘You're supposed to say, “Did my daddy teach you …?”'

‘I've learned a lot today,' I say, ‘but it's going to be a long time until I'm any good.'

‘I'll have to give you a few more lessons,' he grins, and I smile back, because that is exactly what I want to hear. The more the merrier. ‘Flick's been riding Paddington today,' he continues.

‘Can I ride him?' Maisie asks. ‘I wanna ride him.'

‘Tomorrow. He's tired now and needs a rest. Maisie, please will you stay here with Flick while I put Nelson and Scout away? Health and safety.'

‘Health and safety,' she echoes.

I stand beside her as he leads the horses away.

‘Can I buy you that drink sometime?' I ask when we catch up with him at the stables. ‘We used to go for a pint or two after work on a hot day like this.'

‘Two pints?' Robbie looks at me, his eyes creased with humour.

‘Not every day!' I exclaim.

‘I'll see if Mum's happy to babysit tonight—'

‘I'm not a baby,' Maisie cuts in.

‘All right, I know, I'm sorry. Flick, I'll text you later.'

After I've left the Saltertons', it's another three hours before I finish work and get back to the B&B, when I receive a text from Robbie to say that our trip to the pub is on. I look after Rafa with Ashley looking on. He accepts my offer of letting him help me lead Rafa out to the paddock where, locked in his customary silence, he gives him a carrot. I decline Louise's offer of a gossip over a drink. I shower, replace the dressing on my thumb, and slip into a red skater dress and pumps before Robbie picks me up. The fake tan effect isn't great – I spend too much time in the sun in jeans for my skin to have a natural glow. My knees have turned out darker than my ankles, but Robbie looks covetously at my legs, much as he looked at Rafa the first time we met.

‘You look … very different.' He opens the Land Rover door for me. ‘In a good way. Lovely …'

‘Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.' He smells good, too, of aftershave and fabric conditioner. I resist the temptation to turn my head to kiss him. I climb in and he closes the door.

‘Maisie can't wait to ride Paddington,' he says as we set off. ‘I've left poor Mum trying to convince her to have a bath before bed. She's amazing. I couldn't have got through the nappy stage, the teething and the tantrums without her. I'm referring to Maisie, not me.' He changes the subject. ‘I thought we'd try the Talymill Inn along the river. The Dog and Duck's a bit downmarket.'

‘I don't mind which one. It's good of you to offer to drive.'

‘I've not been much of a drinker since I became a dad. Hangovers and baby sick don't mix.' He takes me along a road that runs parallel with the river and pulls into a car park outside an old mill, a building constructed from brick and tiles and smothered with window-boxes and hanging baskets of greenery and flowers.

‘This is it.' Robbie parks between a black convertible and an antique tractor. ‘A couple of Londoners moved here and did it up before selling it on to the current owners. There's a beer garden at the back that runs down to the water, and a children's play area – Maisie loves it. I used to bring her here with the mums and tots when we were part of Talyton's toddler group. We'd have coffee and biscuits and chat about men and relationships and potty-training. It was embarrassing at times, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Maisie enjoyed the company of the other kids and I got plenty of help and support from the mums.' His face reddens. ‘I was the only dad, so I received a lot of attention and the pick of the biscuits.'

It appears that neither of us is in a hurry to break the intimacy of being just the two of us in the Land Rover, but eventually we make our way inside the pub, with Robbie following along behind me to the bar where I order drinks.

‘Mine's an alcohol-free lager, please,' he says.

‘And I'll have a glass of rosé,' I say to the barman, wondering if I should be mixing alcohol with my antibiotics.

‘You aren't drinking beer?' Robbie says quietly in my ear. ‘I assumed you'd have a pint of real ale.'

‘I'm not one of the lads now.'

‘I can vouch for that.' He smiles and brushes my bare arm with his fingertips, sending a rush of heat right through me.

The barman rings up the price of the drinks at the till while I pull out my purse for some cash. There isn't any. I check inside my mobile phone case where I usually tuck away a twenty-pound note for emergencies, but it's gone and I remember that I spent it on my prescription and some other bits and pieces, including Polo mints for Rafa, at the chemist's. No problem. I pull out my card and hold it over the terminal for contactless payment, but the card is declined.

‘How can that be?' I exclaim, although I know perfectly well. The account is empty and I've maxed out to the limit of the overdraft. ‘It worked fine the other day.' I try it again with the same result. I'm starting to sweat because there are two drinks sitting on the bar and I have no way of paying for them.

‘Perhaps you need a replacement card,' Robbie says. ‘Let me pay for these. You can call the bank tomorrow.'

‘Thank you. I'll pay you back as soon as I can.' I'll have to ask Mel for an advance on my wages.

Robbie pays and I pick up the drinks and carry them through the busy pub. We pass a group of women – I recognise Gina from Nethercott Farm among them – before we find a free table. I sit down opposite Robbie in the shade of a giant fern and watch the massive wheel turning in the white water in the mill-race that's been incorporated into the building behind a sheet of glass.

‘Cheers.' Robbie picks up his lager.

We touch glasses and I take a gulp of wine, swallowing it down quickly. It's warm and metallic, like tea mixed with iron filings. I don't know why people drink the stuff – I smile to myself – unless they're trying to show someone how refined and sophisticated they are.

Robbie puts one finger to his lips and nods towards the group of women.

I listen. They are laughing and talking very loudly.

‘Is it so wrong to flirt with your farrier?' says one of them – Gina, I think.

‘You've made a bit of a habit of it,' says another.

‘Have you heard? Mel's taken on a woman to cover for him while he's having his back done. I met her the other day.'

‘I can't have that. I'll have to find somebody else. A female farrier couldn't manage my horse. Maverick isn't naughty. He's highly strung. He needs gentle handling and Mel is just the man to do it.'

‘When I find an alternative farrier, I'll let you know,' Gina says. ‘If you'll let me get a word in edgeways, I'll explain what happened. She came out to shoe Rambo the other day, and one of his shoes has already come off.'

My heart plummets. Of all the horses to lose a shoe, why did it have to be that one? Gina was sceptical when I arrived at Nethercott Farm. This will only have proved her point, even though I did nothing wrong.

‘What about Mel?' the other woman asks. ‘How will he feel if we all … well, it feels like we're dumping him?'

‘I can't help thinking that he deserves it,' Gina says, and although I'm angry at her comments about my competence, I reckon that her attitude has a lot to do with my boss not letting her know he was going for his operation. ‘She's hopeless and I'm going to make sure all the horse owners in this area know it.'

‘That's enough.' Robbie gets up and grabs my hand. ‘Come with me.'