Springtime at Cherry Tree Cottage (19 page)

‘Flick, leave that,' he calls. ‘Come out here for a minute.'

I join him in the garden where he's standing on the patio, looking up at the deep navy sky.

‘There's the Milky Way.' He points up to the pure white swirl of stars above our heads and slides one arm around my back. ‘It reminds me how magical the galaxy is, and how small and insignificant our lives are.'

‘It certainly makes you think,' I say, leaning against him and absorbing his warmth in the cool night air. ‘But I don't want to think tonight.'

He turns and gazes down into my eyes. ‘What do you mean?'

I lean up and touch my lips to his.

‘I don't want to rush you.' His voice is hoarse. ‘I don't want you to do anything unless you want to.'

‘I want to,' I whisper.

‘You want to go to bed?'

‘Oh yes, more than anything.'

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. His eyes are smiling as he kisses me, gently at first, and then with urgency and passion. I respond. I can't get enough of him.

‘Let's go upstairs,' he mutters. He takes me by the hand, and we walk through the cottage, past the sleeping dogs and up the creaking stairs to the bedroom where he closes the door behind us.

The next morning when I wake it takes me a moment to realise where I am. I can hear birds singing, the sound of a tractor and a horse whinnying – its voice is too deep to be Rafa's. There are other noises too: the sound of breathing, and the growl of an empty stomach, not mine, and the rising tide of my pulse as memories of the night before come back to me.

‘The first time I get to have a lie-in for months and they're silaging.' Robbie pulls a pillow over his eyes.

‘Hey, do I look that bad the morning after the night before?' I say lightly.

He tosses the pillow on to the floor.

‘Oh-mi-God no, you look more gorgeous than ever.' He cuddles up against me, moving his hand over the curve of my waist. The contact moves on to a kiss and soon we're making love, slowly this time, revelling in the intimacy and freedom of being just the two of us alone together.

Afterwards, I lie in Robbie's arms, feeling as though I'm on another planet where nothing else matters, until a knocking sound from downstairs brings me back down to earth.

‘I'd better see who that is.' He gets out of bed and wraps a sweatshirt around his middle like an apron before moving across to open the window.

‘I'm sorry, Maisie wanted to see you,' Sally Ann calls up. ‘I thought you'd be up by now.'

Robbie glances back in my direction. I know what he means. He's been up already.

‘Nice butt,' I mouth at him.

‘Maisie,' he calls down. ‘Go back to the house with Nanny and I'll be over for breakfast in five minutes.'

‘All right, but don't be late,' she cries.

Robbie closes the window, walks back to the bed, and leans down to hug and kiss me. ‘I have to go. I wanted to cook you breakfast, but it seems it isn't to be.'

‘Another time.' The bliss of having woken up with him soon overwhelms the disappointment of being rushed away.

‘Oh, definitely.'

I drag myself out from under the duvet and slip into my clothes.

‘I'll call you later. We'll arrange to meet up sometime this week if you're free. And if you want to,' he adds tentatively.

‘Of course I do,' I say.

‘I've got a busy week. It's the Farm and Country Festival next weekend – Dillon and I are taking the horses and putting on a Roman-themed display. We're booked for six performances, two each on Thursday, Friday and Saturday in the main arena.'

‘That sounds exciting.'

‘Nerve-wracking. We've put some new stuff into the routine and it needs more practice. Dillon keeps ducking out of training. He's always got some excuse.'

‘I'll come and watch. Mel's entered me for one of the farriery classes on the Saturday so I'll be there anyway. I wish he'd asked me first, but I think he wants to show me off. I hope I live up to his expectations.'

‘I'm sure you will.'

‘I'm going to have a couple of evenings in the forge to check that I can still make a decent shoe from scratch.'

‘Perhaps we could go for a hack early in the week. Give me your mobile number then we don't have to keep in touch via Mel's business phone.'

‘Of course. I'll text you.'

As I leave, with Robbie making sure that the coast is clear, he smiles softly and my heart lurches, and I know that it's too late to go back to being just friends. We need to talk about where we're going, if that's what we both want. I realise there are all sorts of complications, but I can see what the summer could be like if we carried on seeing each other. I wouldn't be averse to being with Robbie every night, drifting off to sleep in his arms and waking up nestled into his chest each morning.

I walk quickly back to Wisteria House where Louise has brought Rafa in from the field. He scarcely gives me a second glance. I slip back into the house and head for the kitchen to thank her because, even though I told her not to worry about it, she's cleared the droppings from the paddock.

Hearing voices, I hesitate at the door. I can see Mel at the table. I guess that Louise is at the Aga.

‘There's nothing wrong with our son. You treat him like he's “special” so he behaves like he's “special”.' Mel makes speech marks with his fingers, two on each hand.

‘You know very well—'

‘Shut up, Lou. You don't have to lecture me.'

‘All Robbie's saying is that Ash could benefit from therapy. Please, Mel. You saw him last night. This could make all the difference.'

‘I've told you before. It's no use chasing rainbows.'

‘Now you're admitting that there's something not right. You're contradicting yourself again. Let me take him for one session and then we'll see.'

‘The answer is no. It won't make any bloody difference.'

Not for the first time, I think how insensitive Louise's husband is. He's definitely not a type H person. He doesn't love horses, and I'm not sure what he thinks of his son.

‘There was a time when you'd do anything for me,' Louise says flatly. ‘I'm going to take him anyway.'

‘Oh, do what you want. You always do.' Mel stands up and scrapes the chair across the tiles with an ear-splitting sound like chalk being dragged across a board. He grabs his sticks and pushes past me without saying a word.

‘I'm sorry about that.' Louise looks up from a frying pan filled with mushrooms.

‘Are you okay?' I ask.

She nods.

‘Thanks for poo-picking,' I go on, changing the subject.

‘I enjoyed it.' She smiles weakly. ‘It's therapeutic. If you ever want me to look after your horse again, just let me know.'

‘One of my friends has invited me to a housewarming party one weekend, so I'll bear that in mind, as long as you're sure.'

‘Of course I'm sure. You're welcome.'

I spend the rest of Sunday in a daze. It's drizzling and grey, but I ride Rafa down to the river, where I let him splash around in the shallows while I watch a family of fluffy brown ducklings swimming frantically, trying to keep with their mother. Pictures of Robbie keep flicking through my mind like a slide-show: Robbie in his flowing shirt, leading my horse along the lane; Robbie in his wet shirt and jodhs, water dripping from his hair and down his face after our swim in the river; Robbie in close-up, his mouth on mine and his eyes half closed as we kiss under the duvet in his bedroom. I think about schooling my horse on the way home, but it's no use. I can't concentrate on anything. My attention span is now officially shorter than Rafa's.

I text Robbie, just to say hi and let him know that I'm thinking of him. He texts back to say that he'll call later. He sends a smiley face and two kisses.

After dinner with Mel, Ashley and Louise, who is also dealing with the unexpected arrival of a couple of B&B guests, I decide to practise making shoes in the home forge.

‘I can give you some tips,' Mel offers as I leave the table.

‘No, thanks, I'll be fine,' I say quickly. The last thing I want is my boss watching me.

‘What are you going to tackle first?'

‘Just an ordinary concave shoe with quarter clips.'

‘Let me know how it goes. I want to be sure that we're ready to show the competition what we're made of.'

‘Is it really that serious?'

Mel looks me straight in the eye. ‘Deadly,' he says.

No pressure then, I think as I head outside to find the key under the stone trough to unlock the forge. I put some music on my phone and get started. I work with a bar of steel, heating and hammering it into shape while waiting impatiently for Robbie's call.

Twenty minutes later, my phone rings. I put down my hammer and tongs and the shoe I've made, and sip some water as I move away from the fiery heat of the furnace, the mobile to my ear. It's Robbie.

‘I'm sorry, Flick. I can't make it tonight or tomorrow because I'm snowed under with last-minute preparations for the show and working with the mare, and I've just found out that Maisie has parents' evening. I know it's a long time, but how about next Sunday for a picnic? My daughter will be with her other grandparents, Nanny Dee and Granddad.'

‘That sounds great. I'd like that.'

‘There's nothing I'd like more than to be holding you in my arms right now,' he adds softly, making the butterflies dance in my stomach.

‘Have a good evening.'

‘And you. See you later.' I gaze at my mobile for a while after the call has ended. A picnic, just the two of us, no Maisie. It sounds like a date. I smile. It is a date. I suppress a twinge of anxiety, though. We need to talk about where we are going. It was supposed to be a casual fling, but I'm struggling to contain my emotions. I'm looking forward to the show and Sunday night far too much, and I'm worried that I'm getting in too deep, because even if it finished right now, it's too late. I'd be absolutely gutted.

I know it's mad to feel like this. I thought I could handle a light-hearted fling. Other people do. Sarah had many brief encounters before she met the man who became her husband.

I wonder if I should back off now, make my excuses and run for the hills.

I put my mobile down on the windowsill and return to the anvil. I pick up the shoe I've made and examine it. There's something not quite right about it and I don't know how to fix it. Dissatisfied, I return it to the furnace until the metal is glowing when I remove it, and drop it over the pointed end of the anvil. I hit it repeatedly with the hammer, getting into my rhythm, flattening out the imperfections and changing the curve at the toe. It's better, I think, dropping it into cold water, but it isn't one of my best efforts.

I close up the forge and return to the cottage. When I go to bed, I can't sleep for thinking about Robbie and the night before. Although I'm expecting to feel exhausted the next morning, just now I'm full of energy and raring to go.

Louise and I chat over breakfast on Monday.

‘Mel's sleeping, so all is well,' she says. ‘What are you up to today?'

‘I have four horses to shoe somewhere north of Talyford. It's an eventing yard. The Dysons.'

‘Oh yes. They're all right.' Louise smiles. ‘They called to check you out. It's all right. Mel said you were okay.'

Okay? Is that all, I wonder?

‘I'm going to the Fox-Giffords' after that,' I continue. ‘One of their horses has lost a shoe.'

‘You'll meet Sophia then. She must be in her seventies now. She's horse mad and comes across as a bit odd to me, to be honest. She married into the Fox-Gifford family; they own most of the land around Talyton St George.' She smiles again. ‘More than the Saltertons. Mel's been their farrier for years.

‘Her son Alex owns Talyton Manor vets and his wife is one of the partners at Otter House, the small-animal practice in town. Old Fox-Gifford, Sophia's husband, is no more, which is no loss to some of us. Local legend has it that Sophia gave birth to her son while she was out hunting. I'm not sure if it's true, but Alex could ride before he could walk.'

‘Thanks for the info. How about you? What are you doing?'

‘I'm taking Ashley for a therapy session with Robbie and Paddington after school. I know I shouldn't get too excited, but he seems to have a special bond with that pony. It's my dream to see Ashley able to join in at school. He'll never be top of the class or live completely independently, but there's a glimmer of hope that he'll be able to lead a fulfilling and happy life.'

I think back to my parents. All they wanted for me was to lead a life that fulfilled their ambitions and brought them happiness.

‘Ashley's very lucky to have you fighting his corner.'

‘Why don't you come and see us if you finish work in time? The session's booked for four.'

‘I don't know. I expect Robbie would prefer peace and quiet.'

‘He won't mind. Go on.'

‘I'll see,' I say, thinking that I'd love a chance to catch up with him today. I fetch my work boots and some change that I find at the bottom of a handbag, and head out to the truck.

Shoeing the eventers is miraculously uneventful and I carry on to the Fox-Giffords' afterwards. From what Louise has said, I'm expecting to come across a place like the Saltertons', but when I get to Talyton Manor, I find a grand old house that looks decidedly shabby. There are tiles missing from the roof; the white render is cracked and pieces have fallen away. The yard is in a better state. There's a barn conversion to one side with long windows and hanging baskets outside, and a row of stables with steps up to a hayloft. Opposite the barn is a horsebox in purple livery, a four-by-four, and an ancient Bentley.