‘I thought they were sold out – I saw the posters.’
‘Oh no,’ he touches the side of his nose, ‘I have some reserved for special guests like you and Claire. It’s the dame’s prerogative.’
‘I’m not sure it’s my scene,’ I say, although it would be right up Sage and Gabriel’s street, if they’re still living here at Christmas.
‘You’re never too old for panto.’
Life goes on and I hear nothing from Matt. Although I try to convince Cheska to speak to Mum again, she stubbornly refuses to acknowledge her existence, let alone agree to see her. A week later and I’m at the yard with Sage for her riding lesson.
Having had a stern word with Willow about not trashing her new winter-weight fleece, I watch from the side of the outdoor school, my hands in my pockets and wrapped up in several layers of clothing – including some particularly unalluring pale pink thermals – against the cold. I respect my mother more than ever, standing out in the elements like this. She did the same for me through rain, wind and snow.
Sage is riding Harry, or rather Harry is taking advantage of her and tanking around the school at a fast trot with Sage trying to keep in rhythm with his manic pace.
‘Whoah, Harry,’ Delphi calls from the middle. At the sound of her voice, he slows to a walk. ‘That’s better. He’s got the wind under his tail today.’
‘Yes, Delphi,’ Sage shouts back.
‘How are you going to keep him calm?’
‘Remember to breathe! And relax!’ Sage replies.
I feel for her. I’ve ridden any number of naughty ponies.
She walks him in a small circle, but Harry soon decides he’s done his fair share of small circles. He takes hold of the bit, sticks his head in the air and trots off in the opposite direction. In the corner, he strikes off into canter which would have been a great move if that was what Sage was asking him for. She pulls on the reins, her hands up near her face because she’s left them too long, but Harry swishes his tail, does a cheeky buck and flies into a gallop.
‘Whoah, Harry,’ Delphi calls again, but he’s well away, bolting round and round the school with Sage clinging onto the saddle now, her face as white as a freshly washed numnah. ‘Hold on, Sage.’
‘Delphi, do something,’ I yell. I can’t bear to watch. She’s going to come off. She’s going to hurt herself.
Delphi ambushes Harry, holding out her arms and standing in his path, but he’s too quick, changing direction to avoid her, at which Sage loses her stirrups and her seat, flying into the sand and landing on her back with an audible thump. Delphi goes for the pony – typical! – while I run to Sage.
‘Keep still,’ I tell her. ‘Don’t move.’ There are tears in her eyes and she’s trying not to cry. ‘Where does it hurt?’
‘Um, all over …’ She touches her side.
‘There?’ I ask.
‘A bit.’
‘What about your neck? Your back? Your head?’
‘A bit,’ is her response to every question, and it’s a while before I decide that it’s safe to let her sit up.
Delphi brings Harry across. ‘On you jump, Sage,’ she says.
‘Just a minute, Delphi. She’s had a hard fall.’
‘It wasn’t that bad, was it?’
‘It wasn’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me,’ Sage says bravely.
‘Well, it’s lucky we have our yard doctor here to give you the all-clear,’ Delphi goes on. ‘Let me give you a leg-up.’
Before I can argue that Sage should take a break, she’s back on Harry and Delphi is walking around the school beside her, not holding the pony but close enough that she can grab him if he gives any trouble.
‘Delphi, was that cantering?’ Sage says.
‘That was a bit faster – it was a good gallop.’
‘That’s brilliant – I’ve always wanted to gallop like Auntie Nicci does.’
Delphi turns to me as they walk past. ‘Harry’s getting too big for his boots. He does this sometimes. He’s lovely with the complete beginners but as soon as they can start telling him where to go and what to do, he starts to assert himself. He can be a very naughty pony.’
I don’t say anything. He gave me more of a fright than I care to admit. I touch my chest – somewhere in the depths of my clothing my heartbeat is beginning to return to normal. It’s been an eventful lesson for Sage, and an important lesson for me. I can see where Matt is coming from when he says he’s scared to watch me event. I can watch my fellow competitors ride cross-country – Henry, in particular – with equanimity, but it’s much harder to watch someone I care deeply about falling off a pony.
‘Can I ride Willow one day?’ Sage says, beaming from ear to ear at the end of the lesson.
‘One day, when she gets better,’ I say, because she’s going to get better eventually. I’m determined that she’ll be sound enough to be a hack. ‘But you’ll have to have a few more lessons on Harry before you’re ready for a bigger horse.’
‘Your turn, Auntie Nicci,’ Sage says when she dismounts in the lower yard. ‘You’re riding Dark Star. Shane says I can watch.’
Why have I chosen to ride again? Because, as Shane says, I have nothing to lose. I’m clear to ride and I’m not competing, not that it matters because I haven’t seen Matt since that cold rain-swept night a week ago.
‘You know what VB stands for now?’ Shane says as I lower myself gingerly into the saddle onto a soft, padded seat saver that Delphi has kindly added to my ever growing list of horsey must-haves – and added to my livery bill, of course.
‘Go on. You’re going to have to tell me.’ I lean down and check the girth.
‘It means Visibly Bruised.’ Shane chuckles.
‘Oh, shut up,’ I say lightly.
We work in the indoor school this time, under the floodlights, one of the advantages of being a grown-up, I tell Sage. I don’t have to prove anything to Delphi or Shane any more.
I don’t fall off this time and I don’t carry a whip.
‘Are you sure that’s wise?’ Delphi asks.
‘He doesn’t like it.’ I trot past, flicking sand up against the boards at the side of the school. ‘He’s going much better without it. Put a jump up for us, Shane?’
‘Are you sure? It’s always better not to run before you can walk, VB.’
I don’t respond. I relax my fingers on the reins and squeeze lightly with my calves, sending Dark Star forward into canter. He moves beautifully and jumps one metre, then one metre twenty without hesitation.
‘Good boy,’ I tell him, stroking his neck.
‘Do you want me to put it up again?’ Shane shouts across the school.
‘I’m going to stop there.’ I bring the horse back to walk, giving him another pat as he blows softly through his nostrils and stretches his neck. ‘He isn’t nasty, Delphi. He’s just a sensitive soul.’
‘Oh, you’ll be telling me he’s finding himself in a minute, Nicci. You do talk nonsense sometimes. He’s lulling you into a false sense of security. You wait – he’ll soon try you out again.’
I smile as I walk him around on the end of the buckle, but my good humour gradually wanes as thoughts of Matt flit into my head, like the small birds that fly from rafter to rafter above.
I miss him. I miss his smile. I miss waking up with him in the morning with the Bobster at our feet, something that happened regularly in the weeks before my accident.
‘Nicci, can I have a word?’ Shane says, interrupting my chain of thought. ‘In private.’
‘If you have a medical problem, you’ll have to make an appointment.’ I’m teasing him now and he knows it.
‘It’s about Dark Star.’
‘Sage, you come and help me put the horse away,’ Delphi says tactfully, which makes me suspect that she’s in on this too.
Shane waits until Dark Star’s clattering hooves fall silent.
‘I’ve been thinking about what happens now that Matt’s confirmed Willow is definite
ly out of action for the long term.’ He starts making patterns in the sand with the toe of his boot. ‘You need another horse and Delphi’s keen to sell, so I thought you should make her an offer.’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Why not? I know it’s a huge financial commitment taking on a second horse, but you don’t have any other vices. It’s the perfect solution.’
‘If I decide not to compete any more, there’s no point in me having a horse like Dark Star. He’d be wasted.’
‘You won’t be happy not competing. I know you, and if you’re saying this because you think you’ll get back with Matt and live happily ever after, you’re making a terrible mistake. You’ll hate him for it.’
‘What if I have to compromise? I miss him.’
Shane takes me by the shoulders and gives me a gentle shake.
‘VB, what’s got into you? Where is your fire?’ He ducks to meet my eyes. ‘You might not remember, but when I was fourteen or fifteen, I was bullied mercilessly for being a horse-mad boy. People told me I was gay, that I was a girl, that I had a sexual fetish for horses like the teenager in Equus, that I was a pony boy …’ His voice fades. ‘Don’t look that one up on the internet by the way.’
‘I do remember how people talked about you.’
‘I got through it and now look at me. I have the life I’ve always dreamed of because I didn’t compromise or give up. Nicci, you are a brilliant rider – you can’t just walk away. It would be such a waste of talent.’ Shane releases me and takes a step back. ‘Lecture almost over. Most of all, on a selfish and personal level, I’d miss you …’
I’d miss Shane too. I’m missing the eventing, the dressage series and the showjumping competitions that run through the winter months, but ultimately, I can live without them, whereas I can’t survive without Matt. Well, I can. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but nothing is the same without him.
I collect Sage from the tack room where she’s washing Dark Star’s bit in a bucket of water.
‘Hi there,’ I say. ‘We must go.’
‘Do we have to?’
‘We’ll be back.’
‘Maybe sooner than you think,’ Delphi says. ‘Have you remembered that Matt’s coming tomorrow at ten to scan Willow’s tendon?’
‘But it’s Saturday.’
‘He says he hasn’t got anything better to do now that—’ Delphi stops short. ‘Listen to me and my big mouth. I can deal with it, if you don’t want to be here, Nicci.’
‘Thanks, but I’ll be here.’ Willow’s my horse and I need to know what the prognosis is for her return to work – and for any reconciliation with Matt.
Chapter Twenty
Hold your Horses
I TRY NOT to raise my hopes when Matt arrives at the yard, parking outside Willow’s stable. The passenger door of his four-by-four opens and a blur of tan and white dog flies out straight towards me. The Bobster is delighted to see me, squeaking and snuffling and running in and out of my legs.
‘Hello, Bobster,’ I say, a lump catching in my throat at the realisation that the dog has missed me like I’ve missed her and her master.
At Willow’s stable, Matt greets me with a gentle but hesitant smile that serves as a painful reminder of better times. He’s lost some weight and the line of his jaw is more sharply defined, suggesting he’s been under stress. Breathing his familiar scent of aftershave and antibiotics with a hint of horse makes me feel slightly dizzy. My pulse flutters and all I want to do is throw myself into his arms and say I’m sorry.
‘I’m here to scan your horse,’ he says. ‘Would you mind hanging onto her?’
‘No, of course.’ I catch Willow, slip the bit into her mouth, slide the bridle over her ears and fasten the throatlatch and noseband, fumbling with the buckles. I’m nervous, but it has less to do with my concerns for Willow and more to do with trying to behave normally – as if Matt and I are merely common acquaintances. Part of me wishes I’d taken up Delphi’s offer and let her deal with the vet’s visit.
‘Have you got her?’ I blush, aware now that Matt has been watching me over the stable door. He brings the ultrasound machine and a bottle of gel inside and asks me to back Willow into the corner. He squats down and removes her stable bandage, something I should have done beforehand. As he passes me the bandage our fingers touch. He pulls away quickly, as if he too is aware of the electricity that passes between us, confirming that whatever we had, it isn’t over.
‘How are you?’ I ask him, making small talk.
‘Good, thanks. The shoulder’s better.’ He drips some clear gel onto the end of the ultrasound probe and places it against the back of Willow’s front leg, angling and sliding the probe and adjusting the focus on the screen of the machine.
‘What do you think?’ I say anxiously.
‘It’s looking as I’d expect at this stage. There’s the usual amount of heat and swelling. Nicci, I haven’t got a crystal ball. I don’t know for sure that she’ll ever be completely sound, but I think, all things considered, that she’ll come sound enough to be a happy hacker, which is what you want, isn’t it?’
Matt looks up at me, holding my gaze and my chest tightens with desire and yearning. It’s a relief that Willow’s on track to make a return to light work at least, but what I really want more than anything is to have him back in my life, not merely as my vet, but as my best friend and lover.
‘When did you say I can turn her out?’ I ask.
‘Not for another couple of months.’
‘She hates being in all the time.’ I stroke her shoulder.
His lips curve into a rueful smile. ‘I think it’s you who hates the idea of your horse being in. Willow doesn’t look as if she could care less.’
‘That’s your opinion,’ I say stiffly, convinced that I know my horse better than anyone.
‘How’s Willow’s next-door neighbour? Still as mad as ever?’
‘He might be a bit hot-headed, but he has loads of potential. Someone is going to end up with a fantastic horse, if they’re prepared to do the work with him.’
‘Have you heard about Mel?’ Matt asks.
I shake my head.
‘She’s left Westleigh. We’ve taken on a locum until we can recruit a new houseman.’
‘I see … where has she gone?’
‘She’s shacked up with Henry Belton-Smith.’
‘Henry! I should have guessed. It was something he said.’
Matt stands up and starts packing the ultrasound machine away, loading it into the boot of his four-by-four and slamming the tailgate while I put Willow’s bandage back on and remove the bridle, secretly pleased that Mel and Henry have got their comeuppance. They deserve each other.
‘I could do with a coffee,’ he says as I emerge from the stable and close the door. ‘Do you fancy keeping me company?’
‘I’d love to, but I’m going shopping with my mother. She wants me to vet her choice of wedding dress.’
‘I see …’
‘We could meet later,’ I say. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. ‘Matt, I’ve missed you.’
He moves up close to me and takes my hands. ‘I’ve missed you too.’
‘Is there any chance we could start again?’ I whisper.
‘It was a stupid argument,’ Matt says.
‘I don’t think we can just forget about it when it’s clear how important it is to you,’ I say as he strokes my fingers. ‘You need to know that I regret the episode with Dark Star.’ I’m blushing as I recall my behaviour that day, creeping around to avoid being found out. ‘You also need to know that I’ve decided to give up competing. I’m not going to event any more.’
‘Can you really commit to that?’ Matt frowns. ‘You’ve said before that it’s an integral part of your life. How can you give it up?’
‘I’m not going to stop riding altogether. I couldn’t do that, but I’ve had time to weigh up what is important to me. I can live without eventing, but I wouldn’t choose to live
without you.’ I bite my lip as I gauge his reaction.
‘I can’t ask you to stop competing,’ he says. ‘Not so long ago you accused me of being controlling.’
‘I know you can’t help how you feel. I know you’ve tried to change.’
‘I haven’t tried anywhere near hard enough.’
‘Matt, you don’t have to ask me anything, or try to deal with your demons.’ I squeeze his hands tight. ‘Now, will you please listen to me? I have hung up my cross-country colours. I am not going to event any more. It’s my decision and mine alone. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty. And I haven’t done this for you. I’ve done it for us.’ Tears prick my eyelids. ‘I would far rather stop competing than live without you.’
I gaze into his eyes. Does he still want me? Uncertain, I start to take a step back, but Matt stops me, pulling me into his arms.
‘I can’t live without you either,’ he murmurs, running his hand through my hair and stroking the side of my face. ‘I can honestly say that this has been the worst week of my life. I don’t know how I got through it.’ He kisses my cheek, planting more kisses in a line to the corner of my mouth. ‘I’d like to book an appointment with you tonight, Dr Chieveley.’
‘And tomorrow night?’ I whisper.
‘And the night after that,’ he says, holding me close, and over the next few days and nights, we make up for lost time.
On the evening of the panto, Matt and I take Sage and Gabriel to the school where the show is being performed on stage in the assembly hall by Talyton’s Am Dram group. My sister, having said that she wasn’t interested in watching an amateurish rural production (her words), has agreed to see Mum while we’re out with the children. Will they reconcile before the wedding? I’m not sure, but I wish I could write them a prescription to make it right.
Sage, wearing a sparkly dress, jodhpur boots and winter coat, holds my hand on the way in.
‘Do you think they’ll have found a pumpkin big enough for a coach?’ she asks.
‘It won’t be a real one. Have you got the sweets?’
Smiling, she shows me the bag.
‘I wanna sweet,’ Gabriel says.
Vets in Love Page 29
