Springtime at Cherry Tree Cottage (28 page)

‘Besides, I'm not going to mention this to Louise,' I go on.

‘I notice the tension go out of his shoulders as he breathes a sigh of relief.

‘Thanks,' he says curtly. ‘I appreciate it.'

‘You're going to tell her,' I add, and his ire returns, but I don't care. I hate the easy duplicity of people like Mel and my ex, Ryan. Rafa's ears flick back as he detects the rising tension between me and my boss. ‘Trust me, I will speak out if you don't.'

‘You wouldn't!'

‘Oh yes, I will.'

‘You bitch. That's bloody blackmail.' His eyes darken. ‘I thought you were a laugh; one of the lads.'

‘You're wrong. It's all very well having a bit of banter when you're out and about, but to take it further when you're married to a lovely woman who clearly adores you, and you have a son who looks up to you, is … horrible. Despicable.' I recall how happy Louise was, telling me about date night and how they were working at their marriage.

‘Is that it? Have you finished?' Mel crosses his arms.

‘No, I haven't,' I snap. ‘What about Gina? How must you make her feel when you have sex with her in return for shoes? It's like prostitution.'

‘Now you're being completely ridiculous.'

‘Am I?'

‘Who are you to judge? It's just an arrangement we had. Gina knew I'd never leave Lou for her. She didn't want to walk out on her husband to shack up with me. It wasn't hurting anyone. What the eye doesn't see and all that … For f—'s sake, it worked for us.' He leans in close to me so that I can see the bubbles of white spit on his lip. ‘What you saw wasn't meant to happen. I finished it with Gina the other day. She came round because she was upset and one thing led to another and … it was one for the road.'

‘Do you really think I'd believe that?'

‘It's the truth.'

‘You wouldn't know the truth if it came along and bit you on the bum.'

‘Leave it alone. If you so much as utter a word to Lou, I'll send you packing. You'll be out of a job with nowhere to live, and no place for your beloved horse.'

I let the words fly past me.

‘You can't possibly carry out that threat. You'll have no one to look after your round.'

‘I won't have a round soon if you carry on,' he growls.

I feel slightly sick as he stares at me, the blood vessels bulging at his temple, his eyes flashing; even his stubble seems to bristle with anger, and he seems suddenly to come to a decision.

‘You're fired!' he exclaims. ‘Pack up your stuff and go. I don't want to see your face again.'

‘What?' I stammer. ‘This minute?'

‘Yes, now. Get the f— off my property.'

‘You can't do that. You have to give me notice.'

‘I don't think so.'

‘You were supposed to be giving me a contract.'

‘I'm glad I didn't get round to it now.' He shrugs. ‘All we had was a verbal contract, the proverbial gentleman's agreement.'

I can see that his mind is made up and a cold chill settles in my stomach.

‘What about my horse?'

‘What about him?' Mel scowls. ‘I'm sure you'll find someone to take him in. Half my clients are threatening to change their farrier, thanks to you.'

My forehead is tight, but I keep my voice even. ‘I didn't think I'd done a bad job.'

‘Quite the opposite. They think you're the dog's bollocks.
Oh, Flick, she's so wonderful
.' Mel adopts a mocking, effeminate tone. ‘
Don't hurry back to work, Mel. She's more than capable
.' He pauses. ‘You wreck everything, wherever you go. Kerry's resigned because of what happened between you and Robbie. You're hardly as pure as the driven snow.'

‘Resigned?'

‘She walked out on the Saltertons yesterday, gave them five minutes' notice.'

‘Well, it had nothing to do with me.'

‘That's what you say. Now take your horse and go.'

‘But what about all my gear?' I hired a horsebox to move it all before.

‘I'll stick everything in the loosebox. You can collect it when it's convenient. Now, piss off. Get out of my sight.'

‘But where am I going to go?'

‘I don't know,' he says curtly. ‘It isn't my problem.'

‘Jennie's expecting me first thing in the morning. They need the ponies shod for Pony Club camp.'

‘I'll work something out. Give me the mobile and all the keys, house and truck.'

I hand them over. I wonder about phoning Louise or standing my ground, but he's so mad I'm not sure what he'll do. He walks across to the forge and leans against the door, staring at me. I go into the cottage and throw some clean clothes into a suitcase, along with my toothbrush, make-up and chargers. I take it to the stable where I make up a hay-net and a feed in a bucket with a lid on top. I throw everything into the wheelbarrow, lining it with a plastic bag first. I tack up Rafa and slip his head-collar over his bridle under Mel's brooding gaze.

A few drops of rain start to fall, and I'd like to think that he'll come over and tell me that he's calmed down and I'm welcome to stay, at least for tonight, but he's like a statue, immobile apart from the muscle tensing in his cheek. I hold the end of Rafa's lead rope, and the handles of the barrow, and set out. Rafa snatches a mouthful of hay on the way out past the cottage.

‘Hey, you need to ration yourself.' I rearrange the feed bucket that's precariously balanced on top of our belongings. ‘They're your provisions, for however long it takes us to find somewhere to stay. Where are we going?'

Rafa blows through his nostrils, as if he hasn't worked out the seriousness of our situation. We are homeless, or should that be ‘stableless'? And although I've often worried about how I'll be able to afford livery for him, I've never been in this position where we have nowhere to go.

At the gate, I don't know which way to turn.

There's Cherry Tree Cottage and the Saltertons' place, of course. It isn't far and they have room for another horse. I wonder if Robbie still has a space in his bed – not that it matters. Whatever we had is over. I thought that the last time we met was one of my lowest points, but this is worse. My heart is in my boots. Tears stream down my face as I make the decision to walk in the opposite direction, past the pigs and towards the river.

Raindrops patter against the leaves of the trees above. I glance up into a dirty grey mattress of cloud. It's going to be dark early tonight, and it won't be safe to be on the road for much longer. My clothes are getting wet and my horse is looking distinctly unimpressed as the rain trickles down his ears. I wonder if Sarah can help. I can borrow a lorry to take my things and Rafa back to Hampshire. I reckon I can beg a space on a livery yard where she keeps her horse, while she lets me have a bed for a couple of weeks and I find another job. I try my mobile. There's no signal.

In the meantime, I can let Rafa graze under the hedge beside the old railway line overnight, while I rig up a temporary shelter. I have to smile at my fantasy of turning an empty shavings bag into a tent. In the morning, I can head into Talyton St George and call Sarah from the phone-box – there's one by the church.

I can't bring myself to turn to my parents. I can hear my mother's voice saying, ‘Told you so. If you'd stuck at the office job, you'd be managing director by now. Now look at you. You're a mess. I'm ashamed to have you as my daughter. How am I going to tell my friends that my clever, beautiful little girl, who showed so much promise, who had everything she ever wanted, has ended up without even a roof over her head?'

As I continue down the lane, the comforting sound of Rafa's hooves reminds me to look on the bright side. We're alive. We have each other. I still have my career. I can find work. I can make life better. He turns his head and nudges my arm, as if to ask me how.

‘It's all right,' I say as we walk on towards the crossroads, where we stop on the grassy triangle. ‘I'll find a way.'

I let him have a few mouthfuls of grass. It's still raining. I can hear the sound of water rushing along the culvert and the rattle of a trailer being towed along the lane. I push the wheelbarrow on to the triangle. The wheel catches on a tuft of grass, and it tips, spilling its contents, just as a Land Rover approaches, flashing its headlights.

The driver pulls up and leans out of the window. It's Robbie.

How embarrassing. I squat down and pile my belongings back into the barrow, but somehow, although they fitted before, they don't any more, and I turn to find Robbie at my side with the bucket in his hand.

‘I hear you've been evicted.' He takes the lead rope from me.

‘How do you know?'

‘Mel called to ask me if I'd pick you up and take you back to the farm.'

‘Oh?' I find it hard to believe.

‘He said he didn't care if people spread rumours about how he'd made a poor dumb animal suffer, but he didn't want anyone to think he'd be cruel to a horse.'

Which would be quite funny, I think, if I wasn't still close to tears. I bite my lip.

‘What the hell did you do? Actually, don't answer that right now. Let's get your horse into the trailer. It isn't safe to be on the road without lights.'

We load Rafa and the wheelbarrow into the trailer. Robbie closes the ramp and moves back to the Land Rover, where he holds the passenger door open.

‘In you get then,' he says when I hesitate. ‘What are you waiting for?'

‘If you can take Rafa, I'll find a B&B in town.'

‘Don't be silly. You're coming back with me.'

‘I don't know that it's such a good idea. What about Maisie?'

‘She's staying with her grandparents – it's an Inset day at school. They took her to the petting farm. I'll make up a bed in the spare room for you …' His voice trails off as if he's remembering when we slept together, wrapped in each other's arms. ‘Come on. Get in.' He reaches out and touches my back, sending a shot of warmth through my core. ‘You're soaked through. You'll catch pneumonia like that.' He reaches past me and grabs a coat from the seat. ‘Here, have this.'

He drapes it across my shoulders and I clamber in. Rafa paws at the trailer floor, making it shake.

‘Let's go,' Robbie says. ‘I think we're keeping him up.'

He turns the trailer around the triangle and we travel back to Furzeworthy. I put my hands in the pockets of his coat, absorbing his scent.

‘It's very kind of you to do this. I'll look for somewhere tomorrow.'

‘Actually, it could be quite fortuitous all round.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Kerry left us yesterday.'

‘I'm sorry …' I feel partly responsible.

‘It's a complete disaster.' Robbie sounds cross rather than defeated. ‘Kerry knows exactly how we work. She can do everything from getting eight horses ready single-handed to make-up. I can't see how we'll find someone like her and get them trained up in time.

‘Anyway, with our only groom gone, we're short-handed. If you could muck in and help for a few days while we advertise for a replacement in return for board and lodging, it would make my life a lot easier. It's the busiest time of the year for us, and we're a man – I mean, a person – down.'

‘I'm sorry about Kerry. I didn't think she'd leave.'

‘It's all right. It wasn't your fault. I thought it was down to me, but it turns out that she would have left anyway. She'd been headhunted by one of the show-jumpers she met at the festival. She's gone to a yard in Dorset. It's annoying, but there's nothing I could do to persuade her to stay.' He sighs as he changes gear. ‘This will give you a chance to build bridges with Mel.'

‘I don't think that will be possible. I walked in on him and another woman.'

‘Oops,' Robbie says.

‘Is that all you can say? Oops? They were having it away on the sofa in the cottage. They were at it hammer and tongs.'

‘I suppose that's rather appropriate for a farrier. He is a bit of a one for the ladies.'

‘So that's all right, is it?' I exclaim. ‘He's married to Louise, whom I count as one of my friends. He's being unfaithful. It
isn't
right, and I told him so to his face … once he was fully dressed,' I add quickly. ‘I said I'd tell Louise unless he did it first.'

‘I see.' Robbie pulls into the drive and continues up past the big house to the yard, where he parks and turns off the ignition. ‘Was that wise?'

‘Obviously not, but I can't turn a blind eye. It isn't fair on your cousin. If someone had told me Ryan was seeing somebody else, I'd still have been devastated, but it would have been better than spending those extra months wondering why we weren't getting on, and letting him rack up more and more debt in my name. If I'd known, I'd never have ended up in the situation I'm in now. I'm up to my neck.'

‘I didn't realise …' Robbie bites his lip and turns to look at me. ‘So that's why you were so angry and upset at the show. I thought it was because you still had feelings for him, despite you denying it.'

‘I denied it because I don't. I used to think that I was in love with him, but no more. He was fun to be with for a while, but he had a bad habit of pretending to be someone he wasn't.'

‘Don't we all do that? To fit in?'

‘You're a bit of a philosopher.'

‘Maybe. How bad is the debt?'

‘I've been paying off a fixed amount each month, but basically I'm skint.'

‘Horses are expensive,' Robbie observes.

‘Tell me about it, but there's no way I'm letting Rafa go. It would kill me.'

‘I know how you feel.' He pauses. ‘How much do you owe, if you don't mind me asking.'