Country Rivals

by Zara Stoneley

  ‘You reckon she’d bother us? Although, to be honest, she’s always got an eye on us anyway, she’d probably know before we did if Lottie did get pregnant.’

  Billy chuckled. ‘You’re not wrong there, lad, and she’d have it announced in the papers.’ He waved a hand at an imaginary headline. ‘Rory Steel finally proves his manhood.’

  ‘Don’t joke, I wouldn’t put it past her.’

  ‘Who’s joking? No, it’s different with you. She just wanted us moved up to Tipping House, where she could keep an eye on us, make sure any baby was raised in a manner befitting a Stanthorpe. She wasn’t too keen on me back then. I wasn’t quite what she had in mind as a suitor, but we get on fine now. We’ve had our ups and downs, but doesn’t everybody?’

  ‘But Alexa didn’t mind it when she had Lottie? She loved her?’

  ‘Did she ‘eck as mind. She loved that baby from the moment she was born. I can never forget how she was, gazing down at the bundle in her arms when I walked in.’

  ‘You weren’t there when she had her, then?’

  ‘Missed it. Bloody traffic. I was out competing when I found out. Dropped everything, left the groom to sort the horses and headed home. That’s horses for you. Elizabeth had rung a couple of hours earlier, hopping mad she was that I wasn’t there, but nobody had told me because they didn’t want me to cock up my round, silly bastards, then what with the M6 being like it is, by the time I got there it was all over.’

  ‘I don’t think Lottie’s that keen on having kids of our own.’

  ‘You can’t blame her, can you? She never was one to play with dolls.’ He laughed. ‘The other kids were feeding babies and Lottie was feeding foals and puppies. Whole bedroom was filled with cuddly stuff. If you’d not known us you’d never have guessed that we had plenty of the real thing right outside the door.’

  ‘Maybe she’ll never want them. It wasn’t exactly something we discussed before we got married. It never occurred to me.’ It was Rory this time who stared out of the window, unseeing. ‘And now she doesn’t think it’s the right time, with all the work, the horses, and money stuff.’

  ‘There’s never a right time, and I’m not the only one that will tell you that. And it alters your life, even if you’re determined to carry on as before. No arguing the fact, a baby’s one thing, but when they get moving …’

  ‘Like Roxy.’

  ‘She’ll give them the right run-around when she gets older, that one.’

  ‘I feel like I don’t know what Lottie really thinks about having kids. I thought she loved being with Alice and Roxy.’

  ‘Loving the little blighters is one thing, having one of your own’s a bit different. Give her time, there’s no way of working out what’s in a woman’s head, Rory.’

  ‘I just, well lately, what with Xander back and everything going on, I wonder if maybe she’s not convinced that things are good enough between us.’

  ‘Bollocks, you’re talking like a girl now. I know my Lottie and she wouldn’t have walked up that aisle with you if she wasn’t sure.’

  ‘People can change.’

  ‘That girl knows her own mind. If she doesn’t want kids, then there’s a reason, and I’m damned sure it isn’t you. Childhood lovers, my arse, don’t know what they were thinking when they printed that about her and Xander in the papers. I remember that lad and Lottie didn’t have any time for him, only the once there was when she let him ride that mad pony of hers and she was bloody ashamed of herself afterwards. I would have grounded her but it wouldn’t have served a purpose. Drink up, you’re slacking.’ The whisky bottle was poised and so Rory drained his glass and watched the amber liquid slosh in.

  ‘She probably thinks kids will just tie her down. I mean, look at how she went off to Australia and then Spain.’

  ‘And look how she came back. That was ages ago, Rory. She was a kid.’

  ‘She was bored of being here, maybe she still is. She loves watching the film crew – damned sight more exciting than mucking out stables aren’t they? They’ve even asked her to be in some scenes.’

  ‘They asked me too.’ Billy grinned, looking pleased with himself. ‘And not just that cameo, bloody ride-by nonsense. Obviously after a decent-looking man.’ He guffawed.

  ‘Oh Christ, not you too? Is everybody in this bloody film? Even my terrier got a run-on part. Oh bugger, I forgot all about Tilly.’ Rory suddenly remembered he’d left his terrier in the car. He’d only expected to be dropping in for a five-minute chat with Billy, and if he’d let her join them she would have caused havoc with Tiggy’s spaniels.

  ‘She’ll be fine. Hang on a minute, though, lad,’ Billy leant forward, forearms on the table, ‘they might be a pain in the arse, that film crew, but if we didn’t have them you’d be in a right financial mess. You’d do well to think on that.’

  ‘You don’t think she’ll run off to be a film star?’ Rory was feeling more morose by the minute, his earlier exhilaration about his new sponsor a distant memory.

  ‘Don’t talk daft. She’s as happy as I’ve ever seen her, but maybe she’s got a bit too much on her plate at the moment.’

  ‘So you think I should just drop it, not mention a family again?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. But it’s not my decision is it, lad? Up to the pair of you. You’ll know when the time’s right and you won’t be asking an old codger like me. Will he, love?’ Tiggy had come into the room with even more splodges of paint than before on her face.

  ‘What’s that, darling?’ Tiggy plonked herself on his knee and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  ‘Him.’ Billy nodded at Rory. ‘Getting broody, the silly bugger.’

  ‘That’s nice, love.’ She smiled as though babies were an everyday occurrence, which Rory supposed they were. Just not for him. ‘Don’t ask me to knit anything, though. I can’t handle those needles. Drop more stitches than I knit and it makes me go all cross-eyed.’

  ‘He says Lottie isn’t keen. Can’t blame her, can you?’

  ‘Aww never mind, pet. She’ll make her mind up one way or the other.’ She patted his hand. ‘You’re looking a bit peaky, love.’ She stared at Rory, then at the half-empty bottle on the table, then at Billy. ‘Oh dear, I think we’d better get you a sandwich before we call Lottie, don’t you?’ She was up and slathering a generous layer of butter on two slices of bread before he could object.

  Rory nodded, then wished he hadn’t when the whole room tipped. He closed his eyes and re-opened them. Billy was sitting, glass in hand, watching him.

  ‘I think you better drop him off, Tigs.’

  ‘No!’ Rory, who had been feeling decidedly light-headed felt much better after only one bite of the sandwich. Even full of whisky, though, the thought of being in a car with Tiggy behind the steering wheel was alarming. ‘I’ll walk.’

  ‘Oh nonsense, love. It’s no bother and Lottie will be worried, won’t she? Eat up, I’ve got a nice slice of cake you can have when you’ve finished that.’

  Rory looked at her warily. Tiggy might be well meaning, but she was also very scatty. Most of her attempts at home baking ended up cremated, as she tended to wander off and forget all about them until smoke started pouring out of the oven. The remainder often had a strange aftertaste, due to her habit of shaking packets without really checking what was in them properly first (or their use-by date). Her other little trick was to substitute ‘similar’ items when she discovered that she hadn’t got one of the ingredients. Carrot cake and parsnip cake were not the same thing at all, Billy had discovered. And nobody had ever worked out how gravy granules got into the scones. The only explanation that Tiggy could come up with was that they were next to the baking powder in the cupboard, and she had been rather engrossed in reading Jilly Cooper’s Riders at the time on her Kindle. She blamed Rupert Campbell-Black. If she hadn’t been preoccupied with his exploits things might have been different.

  ‘It’s all right, love, I got a lovely sponge from Waitrose.’ She beamed, not at all b
othered about her reputation for creating culinary disaster. ‘I haven’t got time for baking at the moment, what with all my painting.’

  Billy winked at Rory. ‘Good thing, eh?’

  ‘Ooh you cheeky thing, Billy Brinkley. If I didn’t have to take young Rory home I’d be sorting you out.’

  ‘Promises, promises, love. The night is young.’

  Tiggy patted Rory’s hand. ‘If you ask me, love, it all comes down to love and trust. You trusted her enough to fall in love with her. Now do you love her enough to trust everything she says is for a good reason?’

  The words swam around in Rory’s head like two goldfish chasing each other in a snow globe. He felt queasy. ‘I think you’d better write that down.’

  ‘Come on, pet, let’s get you home.’

  * * *

  The cough of a vehicle approaching up the driveway had Lottie leaping to her feet in relief. She dashed out, only to see her father’s old Landrover making its way laboriously towards her, with Tiggy crouched over the steering wheel, peering short-sightedly in her direction. There was a loud crunch and grating of gears as they rounded the final bend and they shuddered to a halt at the bottom of the steps, only to lurch forward when Tiggy forgot to take it out of gear.

  ‘Oh my God, is everything all right?’

  Rory was slumped in the front seat, sandwiched between Billy and Tiggy, looking extremely pale, with a green tinge.

  ‘Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t fix. It’ll take more than that to sort out Tig’s driving, though, won’t it love?’

  Tiggy giggled, clambered out of the car, and went round to the passenger seat to watch Billy try and unload Rory. Tilly tumbled out after him, yapping with delight at being home, and the other terriers came running down the steps with Harry following on behind. ‘You all right, lovey?’ She hugged Lottie. ‘They’ve just had a bit of a celebration. Isn’t it lovely news? I think Billy got a bit carried away. He’s a right one your dad, isn’t he?’

  ‘Dad!’

  ‘Don’t look at me like that. He’s a big boy now, perfectly capable of deciding how much he can drink. Aren’t you, lad? I’ll expect you at eight in the morning, shall I, with whatever horse you want to leave with us? Gives you plenty of time to get sorted, then, before Joker arrives. And make sure you bring one that doesn’t break fences.’ Billy propped Rory against the front door and kissed Lottie on the cheek.

  ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  ‘How can your dad drink so much?’ Rory, who could normally keep up with the best, looked decidedly wobbly as he wandered inside. ‘Probably a mistake to start on the hard stuff when I’ve not eaten all day.’

  ‘You’ve not eaten at all?’

  ‘Well, Tiggy just gave me a sandwich.’

  ‘What was in it?’ It was no wonder Rory looked queasy. Lottie had been the recipient of many of Tiggy’s strange offerings.

  ‘Hard to tell. Lots of butter and something pink.’

  Lottie giggled. ‘So it wasn’t dog food this time?’

  ‘I am never ever going to eat one of her tuna sandwiches again. Come here and give me a hug and tell me how wonderful I am.’

  She wrapped her arms around him and nestled against the hard, broad chest, breathing in the familiar smell she loved so much, along with a fair few whisky fumes. ‘You’re wonderful, Rory Steel. I’m so pleased Rob liked you.’

  ‘I’m pleased the horse liked me. It never put a foot wrong. Now all we need to do is get rid of insufferable Seb and posh Panda and everything will be fine again.’ He nuzzled her hair and it sent a rush of goose bumps down her arms. ‘Do you still love me, Lottie?’

  ‘Course I do.’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘I think I love you a bit more every day, if that’s possible.’

  ‘If you get bored, you will tell me?’

  ‘I’m not going to get bored.’

  ‘But if you do.’ He put a finger under her chin, made sure she was looking straight into his eyes and she was surprised to see just how earnest his gaze was. ‘I need to know you’ll tell me.’

  ‘I promise, Rory. If I’m ever the teeniest bit bored I’ll tell you. Will you do the same?’

  ‘Course I will. I think I need to go to bed. I love to trust you, Lottie, or is that trust to love … dunno, must check.’

  * * *

  The sun was casting a soft glow when Lottie staggered out to the stables at 6am, still half asleep. The lawn, still damp, cushioned each step, flooding her senses with the scent of earth and new grass, and the cold-edged air made her shiver with anticipation.

  She decided she’d take such a glorious spring morning as a good omen. Rory had a new sponsor, he absolutely did love her, and everything else just had to start going their way soon. Together they’d make sure it did. ‘Together’, that was the word she had to concentrate on because that, when Rory was rambling on in a drunken stupor about love and trust, was what it was all about.

  ‘Morning, gorgeous.’ Rory showed no signs of wear and tear from his afternoon drinking with Billy and already had the horses fed and turned out. With his sweatshirt tossed over the stable door he was grooming one of the youngsters that they’d recently started groundwork with in his short sleeves.

  ‘You’re taking Maddie over to Dad’s, then?’ Lottie patted the filly’s neck and she turned round, nuzzling her pocket for treats.

  ‘Thought she was probably the best one to move. It’s just as easy for Tab to pop down there and work her as it is for her to do it here, and his school is better than ours.’

  Lottie straightened the horse’s forelock. She was a lovely horse, but not as sharp as most on the yard and was amenable to most things. In fact, Lottie would be shocked if she didn’t prove as easy to back as she had to get working well on long reins. They seldom, if ever, took on horses to back for other people, but this was for a friend. He’d bought the horse for his daughter and wanted to be sure that whoever backed it did a thorough job and was honest enough to warn him if anything was wrong. So far, Maddie hadn’t put a foot wrong and was the darling of the yard.

  ‘True, and it’ll be better for them to come and see her working down there as well.’

  ‘I thought I’d walk her down. She’s sensible enough and it’s not far. Save getting the trailer out.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ The grin he shot her made her insides wobble, and reminded her just how little time they spent together sometimes. ‘Tab is going to finish off here, then she’s off filming.’ He rolled his eyes and Lottie laughed.

  ‘Rather her than me. Ready?’

  Tab came back from turning out one of the horses just as Rory untied the lead rope. She watched Rory and Lottie chatting, their heads together, dark curls intermingled, body language mirroring each other.

  When she’d arrived in Tippermere as a grumpy goth teenager she’d alternated between hating Lottie and wanting to be her when she grew up. With Rory. Now she didn’t exactly want to be her, but she did want the type of life she had.

  She knew Lottie worked hard, but she always seemed happy. She had friends who wanted to help out, a gorgeous place, and wonderful horses. It was hard not to feel at least a tiny twinge of jealousy. Above all, she had a man who always stood by her. They were a team. And Tab had never felt part of a team.

  Tab sighed. She’d had high hopes of getting somewhere with Xander, but he just seemed to shut people out – everybody, including Lottie, most of the time. He was like a cat – he’d let people near only on his terms, when it suited him. And even then it was perfunctory. It wasn’t that he wasn’t nice, he just wasn’t there.

  ‘We won’t be long, Tab. What time are you going over to the set?’

  She shrugged. ‘Dunno. Soon as I’ve finished here. Xander wants me to dog-sit, then I think I’m supposed to ride in a scene. If Pandora will let me.’ She ended on a sarcastic note and Lottie giggled.

  It wasn’t that Tab minded looking after Ella for Xander, but she’d rather hoped that
it would help form some kind of connection between them. So far, he’d just politely thanked her and told her how much Ella loved her. Much as she loved Ella back, she’d rather her owner felt some kind of attraction for her too. Puppy love was so overrated.

  The little procession marched out through the archway, Lottie and Rory, the filly between them. The terriers streamed ahead, noses down, taking in the exciting morning scents. And Harry lolloped alongside, next to Lottie.

  The filly paused and raised her head, nickering a goodbye to her friend Minty, and Rory let her settle before they walked on.

  Minty, realising that her pal was actually leaving the yard for the first time since she’d arrived, started to kick her box door in protest. ‘Hang on you daft thing, I’m coming,’ and Tab headed back to reassure her with carrots and mints that the world wasn’t about to end.

  By the time she’d settled Minty, skipped out the remaining boxes and filled the hay nets for later, Tab was running late. She’d really hoped she’d have enough time to wash her hair and touch up her make-up, but even changing into her smartest jodhpurs took up precious minutes she didn’t have.

  ‘Bugger.’

  Pandora would be immaculately made up and looking down her long snooty nose at her again. She scrubbed at the dirty mark on her cheek and searched through the drawers for a comb. Maybe she should grow her fringe another inch, then it would go over her eyes and all she’d have to worry about was lip gloss. Although she would look a bit like a mad yeti, so maybe not. Xander would normally have his pick of the posh groupies at polo matches, so yeti probably didn’t cut it. Unless he wanted a change.

  That was funny as well. Try as she might to strike up a conversation about his polo-playing days he refused to join in. If anything, he got even more monosyllabic. The only thing he would talk about was his dog and his horses. Which was fine, up to a point. But it didn’t help her towards a meaningful relationship.

  She pouted at her image in the mirror to see if it helped turn her into a seductress, but it just made her look like she’d got something in her eye. Catching sight of the clock reflected in the mirror she spun round to double-check what it said. ‘Hell.’ If she didn’t get a move on, Xander would have let the wardrobe girl, who was always cooing over him, look after Ella instead.