Katie couldn’t stop looking at her as she rang the number of the first local stables that came up. Sophie loved that look, like she was the cleverest mum on the planet. She’d seen it less and less over the years. Teens were harder to impress than children. Give a six year old a biscuit and she’ll think you’ve just pulled a rabbit out of a hat.
But the doubts started niggling before she’d even finished reading out the long number on the front of her credit card. It had been ages since she’d been on a horse. What if she’d forgotten what to do, or it ran away with her or threw her into the fence and she ended up in traction?
Katie wouldn’t be so awestruck then.
She tried not to listen, but the doubts were whining at her in Dan’s voice.
Well, you can just piss off! she thought. Right. Back to the stream. She watched as Dan floated off on a leaf (along with a fat pony who wouldn’t do what she wanted).
This mindfulness stuff was fantastic.
The stables were down one of those long, winding, barely paved roads. Brambles and summer lilacs scratched at the sides of the car. She hoped Dan had the extra insurance. Then she sort of hoped he didn’t.
Once they’d parked, she kept hold of Oliver’s collar so he wouldn’t run ahead and accidentally end up underhoof. The shine would go right off her little bid for independence if she lost one of the kids. Katie stayed close, though. She was often shy around new people. Sophie grinned at her. ‘This will be fun!’
The stables bustled with children who all looked like they knew more about riding than she did. Nearly everyone had jodhpurs and proper boots instead of her family’s jeans and trainers. She should have checked Harriet’s cupboards. She’d bet there were entire riding outfits there. Labelled and everything.
‘Watch the pile!’ She pulled Oliver away just in time. ‘We’re definitely in the country now.’
The woman who ran the stables found velvet helmets for each of them. ‘Can you please take a picture of us?’ Sophie asked.
Katie pulled her long plait over one shoulder so it shimmered down her front. With an arm around each child, Sophie beamed. If she wasn’t careful, she’d float away on this feeling. Despite what she’d just seen in Dan’s briefcase, she was on top of the world.
Then she was on top of her horse – a big brown and white one named Blaze. That wasn’t quite such a comfortable feeling. Every time Blaze shifted from foot to foot, Sophie got the vertiginous feeling that her saddle was slipping sideways. ‘Are you sure it’s on tight?’ she asked the instructor for the third time. For the third time, the instructor said yes, it was.
What was making her so anxious? Blaze hadn’t even taken a step yet. At worst, she’d slide three feet off a standing horse to the ground. Besides, she did know how to ride. She ought to be at least as confident as riders who only came up to her waist.
As soon as the instructor led Oliver’s pony towards the ring, Sophie’s nerves disappeared. Blaze, and Katie’s pretty dun horse, followed without so much as a giddy-up from their riders.
For the next fifty-seven minutes, Sophie Mitchell was reminded of who she used to be. Amid the instructor’s gentle guidance, she caught glimpses of a long-lost and dearly loved friend. Every clip-clop of Blaze’s hooves drummed up another snippet of her old self, and each time she shared a laugh with her children, a bit of the old Sophie returned.
By the time she climbed down from her saddle, her bum was aching but her heart sang. She remembered, and she liked it.
So maybe she was a little shorter with Dan than she meant to be when she rang him after.
‘You just took the children and left,’ he said.
‘Dan, I didn’t kidnap them.’ She watched them petting the horses in the stalls. ‘You were out running. I took them horse riding. We’ve finished now. I want to stop in the village on the way back, so sort yourself out for lunch. We’ll eat something there.’
The silent treatment loomed large. She could practically hear him seething.
She wrestled down the pandering urge. It was a feisty little so-and-so.
Not this time, she thought. ‘I assume you heard me.’
‘Loud and clear.’ Scorn oozed from Dan’s every word.
‘Good. I’ll see you later this afternoon if you’re around.’ Click.
She couldn’t remember ever hanging up on him before.
She turned her phone off, breathed in the dung-tinged air and felt happy again. She called to the children. ‘How about lunch at the tea shop?’
When Bea saw them, she acted as if her grandchildren had come to visit. ‘Come ’ere, my lovelies!’ She hugged Oliver, then Katie. ‘Been riding, have you?’
‘How did you know?’ Sophie wondered. She hadn’t even thought of it till this morning. If the government ever needed a faster mobile phone network, it could always upgrade to the village grapevine.
‘You smell of horse,’ Bea said.
‘Oh, of course, I’m so sorry!’ The other customers wouldn’t appreciate that. Instinctively, she clamped her arms to her sides.
‘No, no, it’s fine. Nice clean smell. Now, sit down and tell me how it was. Wait, do you want to order first?’
Sophie was starving, though she wasn’t sure quite why. It was the horse who’d done all the work.
The clouds had rolled in while they were taking their lesson, but it didn’t make the tea shop any less inviting now. The pastel-painted tables and chairs were just as cheerful, while conversation hummed around them. She wasn’t surprised to see a few of the same women as last time. If she had a place like this close by, she’d be their most loyal customer.
She reached for her phone to check the time. Then she remembered it was off. It slid back into her bag. ‘I should quickly stop into Delia’s after to pick something up for Harriet’s birthday,’ she told the children as Bea brought their sandwiches.
She owed Harriet an apology.
Bea rolled her eyes. ‘Suppose I should get something, too.’
‘For Harriet?’ She couldn’t mean Harriet.
‘Aye, she’s an odd duck but we’re all doing our best for James’s sake.’
An odd duck didn’t sound so bad. Maybe Harriet wasn’t quite as disliked as Sophie had first thought. Except by Delia, the would-be groom snatcher.
‘For me?’ Dan picked up the gift that Delia had wrapped for Harriet. There was no trace of his earlier irritation. Maybe hanging up on him did him good.
Sophie plucked the little box from his fingers. His hair needed a wash, she noticed, and he hadn’t changed out of his running shorts. Someone’s standards were slipping.
‘Oh, behave!’ he said, smiling. Sophie’s mind flashed back to watching that Austin Powers movie, when she and Dan adopted the phrase. It was their inside joke for years. Only it wasn’t a joke, was it? All that time, it had been a command, and she’d laughed over it.
Well, based on what she’d seen in his briefcase, he should be the one behaving. ‘It’s not for you, unless you’re in the market for a pretty new necklace. It’s for Harriet’s birthday.’
‘You’ve become awfully cosy with someone you hardly know.’
‘Because I got a little gift for someone’s birthday?’ She shrugged. ‘Then yes, I suppose so.’
‘I don’t think I like her influence on you.’
Funny, because as cross as Sophie had been about Harriet dishing the dirt on him, she had no problem with her influence. ‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘You shouldn’t plan to carry on this, this friendship, or whatever you want to call it, once we’re back in London. It’s fine to talk while we’re in their house, but really, Soph, you’ve got nothing in common.’
‘Actually, we have a lot in common. And I’ll pick my own friends, thank you.’
‘You can do better than some uptight woman who’s on the spectrum.’
‘Dan! She’s not.’
‘Come on.’
‘She’s not.’ What a bloody know-it-all.
‘She so clearly is. You only ha
ve to look around this place. You said it yourself. She labels her pillowslips.’
Sophie felt terrible about that. Who was she to make flippant judgements – medical judgements – like that? ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You don’t have to attack me,’ he said. ‘I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it.’ His petulance increased with every word. ‘I was just stating a fact.’
‘Well, it’s not a fact, and you’re wrong. I asked her and she said she’s not.’
‘Oh, right. Soph, you don’t ask an insane patient if he’s insane.’
‘Harriet isn’t insane!’
‘I’m making a point.’
‘Dan, you can’t go throwing around diagnoses about people. You’re not qualified, and even if you were, it’s not your place. And actually, she is the person who would know because she knows herself better than anyone else.’ Although to be fair, Dan didn’t know that he was a bit of an arsehole, so maybe he did have a point.
‘Why are you smiling?’
‘Just thinking about something,’ she said, turning away from him to hide her smirk.
Chapter 25
Thursday
There wasn’t a thing left in Sophie’s house to sort, stack, label or tidy away. Not so much as one overstuffed drawer. Harriet walked through the house, from the pristine kitchen with its bare worktops, sensibly arranged cabinets and sparkling appliances, to the hallway that had taken her breath away that first day. Now it was free of clutter. She’d even thinned out the coats on the hooks – two adult ones and two for the children. She’d probably picked the wrong ones, but that wasn’t the point. It was just to show them how tidy it could be, and how nice it was to be tidy.
Upstairs was just as neat, except for Spot’s room. She wasn’t about to go near that thing.
So, her work was done. But instead of enjoying the accomplishment like she usually did, she wanted more to do. That way, she wouldn’t have to think. Her eyes found her usual go-to places. The kitchen cabinet fronts and all the squares there for counting. The staircase (spindles, spindles and more spindles). The windowpanes in the living room. But her mind wouldn’t settle.
What she really wanted was to talk to a friend. She knew she could talk to James, and she had been, but he was so damn reasonable about everything that it just made her feel more out of control than ever.
Her London friends were all working. She’d never ring their offices on a personal phone call. She’d hate having them do that to her.
Even if Sophie was still cross with her, on a mum-to-mum level she had to understand.
She answered! ‘Billie is gay,’ she said as soon as Sophie said hello.
‘Uh-huh, okay, thanks for telling me, I guess.’
‘No, I mean we’ve just found out.’
‘Oh. Oh, I see.’
Harriet didn’t like the silence that followed on the line. ‘Hello?’
‘Hello, sorry. I was just thinking of what to say next. What do you want me to say? Is everything okay?’
Yes, that was what she wanted Sophie to say. A simple question to let her thoughts tumble out. And did they ever tumble. Harriet replayed the whole scene from the other day. Her ugly thoughts included. Sophie got everything, warts and all. ‘I’m prejudiced, aren’t I? I’m a homophobe.’
‘No, you’re not! You were surprised, that’s all, caught off guard. I’d have reacted just as—’
‘Badly.’
‘I was going to say that I’d have been just as stunned. This is a huge thing to take in. I don’t mean that she’s gay, because lots of people are gay. It’s no big deal.’
‘Clearly it is to me.’ She couldn’t expect Billie to forgive her when she’d probably never forgive herself.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, nothing I say is coming out right today. What I mean is that Billie will be fine, and you and she will be, too. You’ll see. You’ve only just found out. You need time to get used to the idea. Anybody would, when it means changing how you thought Billie would live her life. That’s not easy. We all imagine how our children’s futures will be. I do it all the time. You’ll have to adjust some of that now.’
‘Like what?’ Harriet braced herself. There were probably dozens of things she hadn’t yet tortured herself with.
‘Well, I guess if Billie gets married then there probably won’t be a groom on top of the wedding cake.’
Sophie had hit the nail on the head. Billie’s whole future would be different now. Not even James had completely understood that. ‘It is an adjustment, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Of course the most important thing is for Billie to be happy and loved. Of course it is. I just thought I knew what that would look like. Sophie, I think I’m in mourning. Isn’t that stupid, when nobody’s died. I’m having to change my dreams for her, which probably aren’t realistic anyway. Nobody even gets married these days.’
‘I understand.’ The kindness in Sophie’s voice made Harriet want to cry. ‘I guess this holiday has thrown up all kinds of adjustments for both of us.’
Selfish Harriet, she hadn’t even asked how Sophie was. ‘What’s your adjustment? Hello? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’
She had to strain to hear Sophie’s answer. ‘I’m not sure I want to say it out loud,’ she said. ‘It’s like Beetlejuice. If I say it then I might conjure it up.’
Like in that old 1980s film with Michael Keaton? What a ridiculous idea. Sophie was smarter than that. Any rational human being knew there was no such thing as fate or influencing the universe by putting sodding wishes on a pinboard to make them come true. ‘You don’t have to tell me. Not because it tempts fate or any such nonsense, but because you just might not want to.’
But clearly Sophie did want to. ‘This isn’t what I expected on holiday,’ she said. ‘I wanted to eat too much pasta and relax, not have a relationship crisis. Harriet, I’m afraid Dan might be an arsehole.’
‘Wow, don’t hold back. How do you really feel?’
They both laughed, but then what she went on to tell Harriet was no laughing matter.
‘I know we’ve not known each other long,’ Harriet said when Sophie had finished cataloguing all the insidious ways Dan controlled her, ‘but I’m here for you. Whatever you need.’ An ear, a shoulder. Referral to a good divorce lawyer.
‘Thank you. Isn’t it weird how it feels like we’ve been friends for longer than two weeks?’ Sophie said. ‘And I’m really sorry for reacting the way I did before. I know you weren’t trying to be mean. You’re just direct sometimes.’
Finally, she understood! ‘I assumed you knew about Dan,’ said Harriet. ‘Or at least that you’d want to know.’
‘It was a shock, though I guess it shouldn’t have been. I looked it up, too. He’s been acting strangely about work since we’ve been here, hiding away in the office and being so cross with his assistant. Something is making him nervous. I’m afraid he’s doing it again.’
‘What will you do now? I mean about you and Dan, not what’s going on with his job.’
‘Nothing drastic right this second,’ said Sophie. ‘There are the children to think about, for one thing. They’d need to be prepared … I can’t believe I’m really talking about this! Part of me keeps hoping that my wonderful husband will wake me up with kisses and tell me it’s all been a terrible dream.’
‘Not too many kisses,’ Harriet said, ‘or one thing might lead to another and the last thing you need is to get pregnant now.’
‘Wow, Harriet, now who’s telling it like it is?’
‘Too direct again?’
Sophie laughed. ‘Not from you. I’d expect nothing less. You don’t need to worry about that, anyway. Dan had a vasectomy after Oliver was born. He always knew he only wanted two.’
A vasectomy! ‘How many did you want?’ Harriet wondered.
‘I probably would have been a baby machine,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t get enough of being pregnant. I didn’t even mind the birth or the lack of sleep or the
poo bombs or teething. I loved having babies, the way they’re so warm and snuggly. I craved the feeling, the smell.’
‘That’s just the hormones your body makes so you don’t eat your baby,’ Harriet said.
‘I like the emotional explanation better, thanks. But Dan didn’t want another one, and then he went off and had the vasectomy, so there wasn’t a decision to make any more.’
‘And then he let you have Owen,’ she added. ‘Like giving a child a puppy.’
Sophie sighed. ‘Hmmph. I guess so.’
‘Yes, hmmph,’ Harriet agreed. It was bad enough that Dan had unilaterally taken the possibility of more children so definitively off the table. But if he’d had a vasectomy, then why would he need those condoms she’d found behind the towels? He wouldn’t, was the answer, at least not with his wife. Which meant that Dan was practising safe sex with someone else.
Harriet wasn’t about to mention that now. What she’d viewed before as straightforward information-sharing about Dan’s activities was, she now realised, probably a little insensitive. Sophie had enough other ammunition against her husband. No need to hurt her with this revelation unless she really needed to.
You can do this, Harriet told herself, drawing her eyeliner in a swish that perfectly matched the other eye. Nobody was more expert at what James liked best. She couldn’t give him his goats and countryside tonight, but she’d do the next best thing. The better thing, in her opinion. The raspberry-red lipstick she smoothed on made her blonde highlights stand out. James might be a farmer at heart, but he was partial to a red lip. Tonight, James would get exactly what he wanted.
He did a double take when she sauntered into the kitchen. She smoothed the front of her best dress – yellow, fitted and flirty – and fiddled with the strap on her wedges. James was possibly the only man in the Western hemisphere who actually liked the way wedge heels looked on women. Possibly they reminded him of hooves. Harriet didn’t want to ask. ‘We’ll need to leave by six. We’re having dinner at a farm.’ So nonchalant, like they regularly ate with animals.
James’s eyes were alight as he gave her a lopsided smile. ‘What did you do?’
The Staycation: This summer's hilarious tale of heartwarming friendship, fraught families and happy ever afters Page 23
