Yes, the production did need somebody to work with the horses and advise, but they could have employed any number of people. There had to be another angle, another reason she’d been determined that he be involved. And it wasn’t a gesture of goodwill, to help him. Pandora didn’t help anybody unless she benefitted. But he hadn’t, as yet, worked out what her end-game was.
All he knew was that it was one hell of a coincidence that they’d ended up here, at Tipping House. Just as there were scores of horsemen who could have taken his role, so there were scores of stately homes that could have fit the bill. But somehow they were here, back in Tippermere. Back at the scene of teenage angst and the feeling of not belonging.
It made him uneasy.
Ella licked his chin, as though she understood, and he ruffled the wiry hair on the top of her head. ‘What the hell is Pandora’s game, eh?’ The little dog waggled her eyebrows and Xander smiled. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t end in tears. I’ve got a horrible feeling that Lottie is going to wish she’d never set eyes on us again.’
He had never been particularly close to his half-sister. If anything he preferred the coldly detached Seb, who had looked decidedly irritated when he’d discovered that Pandora had been to Tippermere before. Seb liked to be in control, to know everything. Unfortunately Pandora liked to scheme, and keep secrets. In her book, knowledge was power, and despite her show of surprise, Xander suspected that finding Lottie here was not totally unexpected. She was up to something, and he felt like he’d played right into her hands, that she wanted him here for some reason.
And what did he get out of it? A place to hide until the fuss died down, a distraction, a wage that wasn’t much more than loose change?
There were a lot of things in his life right now that he had no control over, and there were some things he wanted to hide from. But the truth wasn’t one of them.
He should carry on what Seb had started. Talk to Pandora. Find out what they were really doing here. Then work out if the Himalayas was a better option after all.
Xander glanced at his watch. It was too late now. His half-sister and her husband would be ensconced in their hotel room. Together. And this was a conversation he wanted to keep between him and Pandora. For now.
Some things were better kept quiet. Like his own secret. If his devious sister ever found out the actual cause of all his pain, the person he was really up against – their father – then she might not be quite so keen to drag him into her own little plan. Things were already nasty enough, and Pandora, he was sure, was more than capable of making them ten times worse.
Chapter 12
Seb pulled the scarf tighter around his neck and shrugged himself further into his jacket. The sun might be out, but there was an icy wind blowing across the open expanse of parkland that sat at the front of Tipping House. The daffodils were no longer jaunty, but instead looked decidedly dejected, and the horses were tossing their heads and dancing about in a way that unnerved him, and it appeared, some of the extras.
He looked up at the sky. They had to get this scene done and dusted before the light started to go and so far the day had been a disaster. Who knew that horses could act so bloody stupid when there was a bit of a breeze?
‘All I fucking want is for them to do it one bloody time, to get it right one bloody time. Is that too much to ask?’ He glared at Xander, who looked back like he didn’t give a shit. He didn’t know what was more annoying, having to deal with the animals or his brother-in-law.
‘They aren’t animations, they’re horses, and it was you who employed the extras, not me. Why didn’t you get people who could ride? Or do it in a studio with CGI.’
‘Oh save your sanctimonious sermons, Xander. They’re bloody horses. One shot, one bloody realistic shot towards the camera, where they’re all going in the right direction and the sun is fucking shining. Is that too much to ask?’
Xander raised an eyebrow, determined to ignore the sarcasm and not let Seb bait him. Although he was very tempted to just thump him.
‘We can add the ball afterwards. Just get them to fucking gallop towards the marker. I want the real thing – can’t you get that into your head? The drama, the light. Christ, you really haven’t got an artistic streak at all, have you?’
‘And you really haven’t got a human side, have you?’ Xander shook his head and headed back towards the horses.
Seb gritted his teeth, wishing he could return to civilisation. His clean and tidy penthouse in London would be perfect, soothing, but even the hotel in Kitterly Heath would be welcome after today’s shoot. He longed for a good glass of wine and some decent food. All this hearty-fayre crap was playing hell with his digestive system; it was no wonder they all felt the urge to run around with dogs and horses, to work the pounds off.
He shook his head to try and dismiss the unsavoury thoughts, then put a hand up instinctively to his stiff neck. Right now he’d kill for a proper bed, with decent pillows.
‘Okay, are we ready to go again? What the hell is the matter now?’ He glared at the runner, whose name escaped him, who had slid to a halt in front of him.
‘Er, we have an, er, problem, Mr Drakelow, sir.’
‘Don’t sir me, and we don’t have a fucking problem, you do. I pay you to make sure everybody is ready when I say go.’
‘One of the horses stood on Jake’s foot and he’s supposed to be in this shot.’
‘Well he doesn’t need his bloody foot to ride a horse, does he? Give me strength.’
The man backed off nervously. ‘He’s in agony, he …’
‘What the fuck is wrong with you all? Do I have to throw him in the bloody saddle myself?’
‘Can I help?’ Under the pretence of concern, Pandora has sent Jamie to defuse the situation, but they both knew that really she was being nosy – she wanted to know what was causing the delay.
The man shot Jamie a look of relief and scurried away before anybody got a chance to sack him. He’d already been dismissed three times since shooting began: twice by Seb and once by Pandora.
‘Can you fucking ride?’ Seb glared at his intern, not expecting an answer. ‘I thought not, so how the fuck can you help? Jesus, this film is going to kill me, I need a drink and civilisation.’
‘He can’t, but I can.’ Tab, who had followed in Jamie’s wake, refused to shrink under Seb’s withering gaze. Instead she folded her arms defiantly.
‘Really?’ The sarcastic tone came easily to Seb, and never more so than when he felt under pressure.
Tab had spent as much of her spare time watching the filming as she could, not because she had any interest whatsoever in the production, but because it gave her a chance to ogle Xander, who was surprisingly elusive when she searched him out in the yard. It had got boring, though – he seemed to spend most of his time either hiding in the stables, a trailer, or surrounded by admirers – and she’d been rather relieved when Jamie had sidled over each day for a chat. Jamie was nice as well, easy to talk to. He was also full of good ideas.
‘Honest, it’s my job. I can ride more or less any horse. Try me.’
‘And I can get you a drink, Seb.’ Jamie looked from Tab to Seb, awaiting a verdict.
Seb looked the girl up and down. ‘I suppose you’re tall and stringy enough to pass for that youth,’ he paused, ‘and flat-chested enough. You’ve got two minutes to get changed. Well, go on then, move. I haven’t got all fucking day.’
Jamie grabbed Tab’s hand and the pair bolted towards the costume trailer before he had a chance to change his mind.
‘What are you two grinning about? You look like simpletons.’ Pandora, who was expecting an update from Jamie on what had upset Seb now, looked pointedly at their joined hands.
But Tab couldn’t care less whether Pandora, or indeed the whole world (apart from Xander), thought she looked like a simpleton. She was going to ride on set. She was an extra. Which meant two things: she was going to be famous and she was going to have the opportunity to get closer to Xand
er.
* * *
Xander was standing by the pony line, Jake’s helmet and mallet in his hand, his dog watching proceedings closely when Tab arrived, slightly out of breath.
The polo whites that she’d been given to wear (Jake’s, complete with stains – for continuity reasons) were several sizes too large around the waist, and decidedly short in the leg, and in the generous polo shirt she felt like she’d been dressed by a jealous aunt who wanted her to resemble a sack of potatoes. But with some judicious belt-tightening and tucking in she almost felt the part.
‘Not that anybody will be able to see you, duck.’ The girl in the wardrobe trailer had said as she’d tightened the knee pads. ‘The speed you’re going, at that distance you could be anybody. Here,’ she pulled Tab’s long hair into a band and shoved it into her collar, ‘that’ll do. Now don’t you go falling off, he’s in a right mood already and at this rate none of us will be getting any supper.’
Which all meant that by the time she’d staggered down the steps, she wasn’t feeling quite as chipper any more.
Jamie was waiting for her, a massive grin splashed across his friendly face. ‘Wow, you look the part.’
‘Really?’ Used to wearing tight jodhpurs and even tighter t-shirts, Tab certainly didn’t feel the part. In fact, if Xander fancied her in this get-up he’d have to be deranged.
‘Really. The sexiest extra on the pitch.’ He kissed her cheek, then blushed. ‘Come on, Xander’s waiting.’
‘You don’t look anything like Jake.’ Xander’s tone was dry. ‘Hopefully you won’t ride anything like him, either.’
Tab grinned, feeling slightly more confident once she had a foot in the stirrup iron. The polo pony looked remarkably laid back to her and she really couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.
‘Here.’ Xander passed Tab the mallet, then lifted an eyebrow. ‘I take it you’ve never played polo from the way you’re holding that.’
‘I’ve never even watched a match, to be honest.’ Tab glanced over at Jamie, who gave the thumbs-up.
‘Not a problem for this shot. Right, stick up.’ He put one hand over hers, the other steadying her elbow, and Tab, who wasn’t one bit flustered about the riding came over all jittery. She’d never managed to get this close to him before, and now his flat, warm stomach was pressed against her thigh. She forgot all about Jamie and how to breathe as well. ‘All you need to do is canter down that line towards the camera. You’re not supposed to be in a game, just galloping over. Okay?’ He was giving her a quizzical look.
‘Fine.’ God, he smelled good. ‘Towards the camera?’
‘Straight at it, at a reasonable pace. This little mare knows her job. If you stay straight, she will. But she’s very sensitive to your body weight. If you start shifting around in the saddle you could end up anywhere.’
‘Okay.’ It certainly didn’t sound difficult at all, even if holding the mallet felt decidedly strange. She shifted her foot more firmly into the stirrup iron and Xander drew his breath in. Christ, jabbing him in the balls with a spur wasn’t going to help her case.
‘Straight. Now wait on that line until you get the signal, walk to that marker, then go into canter. Have a quick canter round here to get the feel of her and, remember, these ponies are used to going fast. Don’t use your legs too hard. She doesn’t need a jab in the ribs any more than you do. She’s used to light aids – it’s all about weight.’
Tab was just about to take his advice when one of the crew rushed up. ‘Seb says can you stop arsing about,’ he looked apologetic, ‘his words not mine, and get lined up before the light goes. The message was, you only have to ride in a fucking straight line.’
‘Well you can tell him—’
‘It’s alright, Xander. I’ll go. I get it.’
‘These are my horses and I’m not having that jerk—’
Before Xander could say anything else, Tab had walked down to the line and was watching for the signal.
‘Christ, he was right.’ At the lightest touch from her legs, the little mare sped off, eating up the ground with alarming speed and reaching Seb and his cameraman within seconds. Seb glared as she sat back a few yards short and the pony obediently slowed to a walk.
‘Fantastic.’ The sarcastic tone carried clearly. ‘You didn’t fall off. Now do it again, and this time come straight at the camera, stop wandering about like you’re drunk and don’t slow down until I say, got it? I thought you said you could fucking ride.’
Tab swore under her breath and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
‘And for fuck’s sake keep that stick still, it’s waving around like a bloody flag. It’s not the charge of the fucking light brigade.’
She rode back slightly despondent, to find Xander and Jamie side by side.
‘You can ride.’
It was a compliment! Whatever happened now, it didn’t matter. Xander had noticed her; Xander had said she could ride. Fuck Seb and his rants.
‘Stay light in the saddle and focus more so you don’t drift,’ he patted the mare’s neck and gave her a mint, ‘she’s used to somebody riding with one hundred per cent attention on where they want to go. Concentrate.’ The corner of his mouth quirked. ‘Imagine Seb’s head is the ball and head straight for it.’
Tab went for it. She’d never sat on such a responsive horse, never felt such acceleration as they shot across the park, and with the wind cold against her cheeks she felt like whooping. But she didn’t, she headed straight as a die towards Seb, who was standing next to the camera, clutching the mallet as firmly as she could and wishing she could take a swipe at the imaginary ball when she got there.
As she got closer the cameraman twitched, holding his ground as long as he dared, then with a grunt tried to drag his equipment out of the way. Seb was made of sterner stuff, or he was more confident that Tab would bottle first.
‘No way, you twat.’ Muttering through gritted teeth, trying not to smile, Tab refused to rein in. She was close enough to see the scowl on his face, to see the stony expression in those cold grey eyes, before Seb finally shouted ‘cut’. Then he leapt for safety as she put the brakes on and veered off to one side, inches from where he’d been standing.
‘Cripes, it really is you!’ Lottie, who had finished feeding the horses and been unable to find her groom anywhere, had wandered out to watch the last shots of the day. After several years of riding out with Tab and giving her riding lessons, she was convinced she’d recognise her riding anywhere. But she must have got it wrong. Tab wasn’t in the film and she certainly didn’t play polo. But, as she got closer to the crew she saw quite clearly that it was indeed an elated Tabatha who was stood up in her stirrups, waving her mallet in the air jubilantly as she came to a halt.
‘This horse is ace. I want to play polo.’ She patted the horse’s neck enthusiastically and grinned down at Lottie. ‘It’s awesome.’
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? You haven’t got time to chat.’
She turned to look in surprise at Seb. Surely that had been what he’d wanted?
‘You veered off the line, out there.’ He gestured back in the direction she’d come from.
‘I never did.’ Tab glared, and Seb met the look head on.
‘Well from here I say you did.’ His features were set, dead-fish eyes expressionless. She hated him. ‘Just ride in a straight bloody line at the camera. Even an idiot should be able to understand that. Can’t you?’
Tab lost the look and smiled sweetly.
Sweet meant trouble, thought Lottie, and shrank further into her coat.
‘One more time before we wrap up, to be sure. And,’ he gave his cameraman an assessing look, ‘don’t you dare duck out.’
‘I’d got the shot.’
‘And get the Segway to follow her down.’
‘Why on earth do we have to do it again?’ Grumbled Tab to a grinning Jamie when she returned to the start position. ‘Just ride in a straight bloody line.’ She mimicked Seb�
��s tone perfectly.
‘It’s always like this, sometimes there’s like a dozen takes. These film sets are pretty boring, to be honest. It’s much more interesting going out finding locations.’
Xander, who had been checking the horse over, straightened up. ‘I’ve never seen Seb actually move out of the way before.’ There was a hint of humour lurking in his eyes, which made him seem much more human to Tab than he had before. True, he was amazingly dishy, but he was detached, he had that distant ‘don’t touch me’ air about him. ‘Don’t worry, this will be the last take, the one before was good enough, he’s just stamping his authority.’
Tab scowled, swung her mallet in a circle and then held it in position and walked the mare to the starting point.
‘What do you think she’s going to do?’ Jamie’s voice was low.
Xander grinned as he watched her gather the horse up. ‘Mow him down if we’re lucky. Atta girl.’
At the signal, Tab, now feeling like a seasoned pro, nudged the mare forward. The wind had eased off so that the tired daffodils were nodding gently in front of Tipping House, which was bathed in the last of the spring sunshine.
As the dark bay mare moved effortlessly onwards, the lush, young grass cushioning each footfall, Tab let her run. For a moment she shut her eyes, heard the galloping horses on both sides, the whoosh of sticks swinging through the air, the clunk as the ball was hit. She was there, the crowd was cheering.
Except it wasn’t cheering, it was excited barks.
She didn’t mean to slow down, but the super-sensitive horse read her body language. Tab glanced off to the side. Across the grass sped a blur of brown and white spaniel, his nose to the ground, his tail wagging furiously.
Lottie had left Harry locked in one of the loose boxes when she’d gone in search of Tab, but now he was out and intent on tracking his mistress down, Tilly and the other two terriers in his wake. The terriers fanned out and Tab, sensing disaster, sped up, heading straight for Seb. If she could only get there first he’d have his take.
Country Rivals Page 15
