'May I have a word with Jenny, please?' a middle-aged masculine voice asked. 'Larry Lyons here - building contractor.'
'I'm afraid Jenny isn't here at present. I'm her husband ... would you like me to take a message for her?'
Ken wasn't being inquisitive, just trying to be helpful. He was in a good mood and this man seemed to have a genuine friendly air about him.
'Well, you see,' he hesitated, 'I want to speak to her about the stables. I told her I wouldn't be ready to start them for about a month. That has changed now. Another job has been postponed. I could now make a start for her next week.'
Ken listened, perplexed.
'Are you sure, Mr Lyons, you have the right number?'
'Yes, I think so. Mrs Jenny Howard/McKevitt.'
'That's her alright,' sighed Ken in a deflated voice, stunned, bewildered, his mind in overdrive trying to make sense of it.
He had to think fast, act calmly. He didn't want to heap his anger on an unsuspecting Mr Lyons, who was no doubt, acting in good faith. He would have to trash all this out with Jenny, get to the bottom of it, find out what was going on behind his back.
'I'll tell you what, Mr Lyons, would you mind ringing back in the morning? Jenny will be here then and you can make arrangements with her yourself.'
'Sound as a pound! Tell her I'll ring her about half-eight. Thank you very much. Cheers.'
'Thank you very much, Mr Lyons,' muttered Ken, replacing the receiver slowly and thoughtfully.
For a few minutes he just stood there, squeezing his face between his fingers and thumb, desperately trying to comprehend this whole business. Jenny was off on a solo run, that's for sure. Planning and building stables without saying a word to him. It's crazy - what's got into her? This must be going on for months. He never suspected - she never said a word. Why?
Thinking intensely, he began searching deeper. Deceit and deception. That's what it was. She wouldn't mention it for fear of my objection. Get it stared first, and then it would be so advanced, I wouldn't be able to stop it. It was a gamble. It might have worked too if he hadn't taken that call. He'd probably come home some evening and those stables would be half built. This was ridiculous. His mind shifted to another sinister aspect of the whole affair. She's determined to go back to horse-riding - perhaps to an even greater degree than before, despite her serious accident, despite his repeated warnings, despite everything. She'll listen to nobody, especially me, her husband - I seem to be completely irrelevant.
He was now really upset. Into the sitting room, flopping down on the long couch, staring into space, he began preparing his mind for the verbal attack he would unleash on her when she arrived. He felt entirely justified - it simply wasn't fair. He was being ignored and humiliated. This was his property as much as it was hers. He was entitled to know what was being done and his agreement sought. He didn't agree to stables being built. He would put his foot down, would not agree and end it at that. It was for her good - might even save her life.
He re-assured himself that he was right in the stance he was taking. He wasn't doing her any wrong. It was him that was being wronged. He calmed down a bit, now that he had worked it all out. He wouldn't be too hard on her, tell her gently but firmly: No stables - end of story!
The feeling of home warmed Jenny as she drove through the big piers and up the tarmac drive to her parking spot at the gable end of the house. It was great to see Ken's Honda - strange for him to be home before her. She hoped he was in good form. He would need to be. The news she had for him would shock him, set him back, wound his pride again. She would have to impart it gently, try to get him to accept it. See that it wasn't the end of the world; they would just have to get on with their lives.
Entering through the back door, she dropped two bags of groceries on the kitchen table. She noticed the open newspaper and the mug of cold coffee, which seemed to have been made and abandoned - this was puzzling.
'Ken,' she called out. No reply. She called again as she entered the hall to hang up her coat.
'In here.'
The voice was coming from the sitting room. It was Ken's, but it wasn't his usual tone - cold, stern, brusque. Why didn't he answer her first call? Apprehensively, she entered, not sure what she would find. He was sitting back on the couch, staring in front of him, a troubled look on his face. His hands were clasped behind his head, reminding her of Don Lenihan sometimes, when he would be mentally constructing an onslaught designed to wound and humiliate. It was weird. Her first guess was the Clinic - something happened to him there.
'What's the matter, Ken ... are you okay?'
He turned slowly, their eyes met.
'We have to talk, Jenny. I had a Mr Lyons on the phone ... you'd better explain.'
Her head suddenly dropped.
'I see.' She paused, inhaled a deep breath. He waited, staring accusingly. She felt cornered, exposed, challenged. Suddenly she activated her brain - Explanations? Answers? Rapidly. Her old motto flashed in her head: Problems are made to be solved - the best defence is attack.
She sat down on the nearest chair, her hands folded on her lap.
'It's no big deal, Ken.' I was just exploring the possibility of putting up a few little stables in the top corner of the field, well away from the house. I rang Mr Lyons ... just to find out what it would cost. I would have told you all about it when I got the details. That's all it was ... I can't see what you're so upset about.'
'Now Jenny,' he leaned forward, his hands on his thighs, staring straight into her eyes to convey his deep inner torture, 'I'm not saying you're telling me lies, but you're certainly not telling me the whole truth.'
'That's not fair, Ken! I never lied to you.'
'I didn't say you did ... but you're not telling me the whole story. That man is coming here on Monday to start building. He must have been given plans. He must have given you a quotation. You must have given him the order. Are you telling me that this man is just casually coming here of his own accord?'
She was under real pressure now.
'Look Ken. There must be some misunderstanding. Mr Lyons said he wouldn't be free for at least a month. We were to discuss details, plans, prices etc in the meantime. I was going to tell you about it and get you involved when I'd have some details ... this very week-end. I don't see anything wrong with that ... nothing was decided ... you're jumping to conclusions, Ken ... you're very unfair.'
'Unfair Jenny,' he exploded. Who's unfair? You did all the scheming behind my back. You treated me as if I was nobody ... just a lodger here. You wouldn't tell me because you thought I'd object. You know that I strongly disapprove of you risking your life on those horses. You saw what happened at Punchestown. I had to pick up the pieces. Now you're starting again. Who's being unfair?'
She was shocked at this rare outburst from Ken. She never saw him so agitated, so angry, but also so wrong in his accusations against her. She would fight her corner.
'You're the one that's being unfair, Ken. You know very well that I love horses ... I grew up with them ... they're part of my life. You knew that when you married me. You're not going to change that ... you can try, but it won't work.'
'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 safet
y, 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.
* * *
Wild and Free
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.
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