To be fair, Pippa thought as she wrenched open her car door and ripped the rubber lining from the frozen frame, she hadn’t paid that much attention to the garden yet. That was something she was gearing up to tackle when the days were longer and less hypothermic.
She dragged her thoughts away from the cottage renovations as she made her slow journey to the stables, her first experience driving in snow. Whether the gritters had been caught napping or whether this particular part of the southwest didn’t register as worthy on their routes, the narrow roads had been left unprepared.
Pippa chewed her lip and gripped the icy steering wheel as she manoeuvred the Beetle through the slushy ruts left by previous vehicles. When she pulled up outside the stables, she flexed her stiff fingers then blotted her damp palms on her trousers.
Snow was very pretty until you drove in it.
Aspen Valley’s horse lorry was parked, ready to depart for the day’s racing and she pitied whoever was responsible for driving its great bulk across country in these conditions.
When Jack arrived shortly after her, he looked like he was returning from a trip to the Arctic. His nose was cherry red and fat melting flakes clung to his jacket as he bustled into the office. A few minutes later, he handed her the list of entries and declarations.
‘Could be a waste of time,’ he grumbled. ‘An inch of snow and everything grinds to a bloody halt. Wincanton have cancelled this afternoon’s meeting because the track is frozen. Why couldn’t they have put the covers on?’
Pippa had a sudden mental image of young Wimbledon ball boys running around the racecourse hauling tarpaulins after them, but swallowed the smile this brought to her face. Jack wouldn’t see the funny side of it.
‘Don’t know, Jack,’ she replied. ‘Maybe they were given the wrong forecast.’
‘And it’s Cheltenham Festival Trials weekend! I’ve got both Dexter and Dust Storm running in the novice hurdle.’
‘Maybe the ball boys will have a chance tomorrow then,’ she murmured, concentrating on entering the runners in their designated races.
‘What?’
Pippa stopped typing to look at Jack then realised what she’d just said.
‘I mean the people who put the covers on the course. You know, like at Wimbledon. Maybe they’ve had enough warning to get them on.’
Jack shook his head.
‘Pippa, sometimes I think you’re in a different solar system, never mind a different planet to the rest of us.’
Poised over her keyboard, Pippa beamed at Jack heading back into his office, feeling strangely proud of her eccentricity.
With racing still hanging in the balance, Pippa wasn’t surprised when, just before lunch, the office door was opened, admitting a blast of glacial air. But instead of a grumpy-looking Jack muttering about a wasted journey, she was greeted by a tall, mouth-wateringly sexy man followed by a young woman not much older than herself. Pippa’s jaw fell slack when the man smiled at her. The crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes deepened beneath a natural tan which was criminal to have in the middle of an English winter.
‘Can I help you?’ Pippa uttered at last, really meaning it.
‘Good morning, ma’amoiselle. Is Jack here?’ he asked, his French accent as soothing as a feline purr.
Pippa shook her head.
‘No, I’m afraid not.’ A nasty thought occurred to her. Her eyes flickered from the Frenchman to the office diary lying on the desk. ‘Er, was he expecting you?’
‘No. We stopped by on the off-chance.’
The woman, her long brown hair secured in a plait, smiled at Pippa.
‘I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Ginny Kennedy. My partner, Julien. Our horse, Caspian, is being stabled here for the winter.’
A light bulb pinged in Pippa’s brain and she beamed at the two visitors. She might not know all of the horses at Aspen Valley yet, but Caspian stood out for a particular reason: he wasn’t a jumper.
‘Of course!’ she said. ‘I’m Pippa. I haven’t been working here all that long. When Caspian arrived, you more than likely met Gemma, Jack’s last secretary. He’ll be disappointed to have missed you.’
‘Likewise,’ Ginny sighed, her tone receiving a quick frown from Julien.
‘I’ll just check where he’s being stabled, and have someone take you to him,’ Pippa said, clicking open a document on her computer of all Aspen Valley’s residents.
As she waited for the page to load, she noticed Ginny hardly able to contain her excitement. ‘Caspian’s a bit of a celebrity around here,’ she said. ‘Everyone wants to look after him.’
‘We miss him at home,’ Ginny replied. ‘But hopefully a good rest over winter means he’ll come back next season bigger and stronger.’
‘Here we go. Caspian’s in Box 104. I’ll just call someone to take you there.’
‘Do you know where it is? Have you met Caspian?’ Ginny asked.
Pippa paused as she rose to her feet. Would they take offence if she admitted that she hadn’t been that bothered to meet what was obviously their favourite horse?
‘Um, not officially, I haven’t.’
‘Would you like to? He’s such a love. Isn’t he, Julien?’
‘More so since he won the Dewhurst,’ he teased.
‘Rubbish. Would you like to come along? He’s favourite for next year’s Derby, you know. If he wins, you could say you met the Derby winner.’
Far from sounding boastful, Ginny’s voice softened with wistfulness as she imagined winning flat racing’s most coveted prize. Pippa recognised what she felt about Peace Offering’s bid for the National in her misty eyes, albeit Caspian was more like a handful of aces to her own Joker card.
‘I’d love to,’ she said. ‘Follow me.’
The sound of Ginny’s voice softly calling his name brought Caspian whickering to the door.
‘He certainly knows who his owner is,’ Pippa said with a smile.
The dark bay colt blew gustily over Ginny as she rubbed the small star between his eyes.
‘Well, strictly speaking, my father is his owner,’ Ginny said. ‘But I’m his trainer.’
Pippa was taken aback for a moment.
‘You’re a trainer?’ she said. ‘Wow.’
Ginny grinned.
‘You sound amazed.’
‘I don’t mean to. It’s just that – I didn’t think –’ she stammered. ‘Sorry, I’m pretty new to this game. Jack’s the only trainer I know. I guess I just presumed all trainers were like him.’
Ginny and Julien laughed.
‘No. We come in all shapes and sizes,’ Julien said.
‘You as well?’
Ginny chuckled at Pippa’s astonished expression.
‘Julien was my hottest rival last season.’
I wouldn’t argue with that, thought Pippa.
‘And this fella here,’ Ginny went on, scratching her horse under his chin, ‘was my deadliest weapon.’ Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. ‘Jack’s at the top of his game. If you don’t mind me asking, if you’re new to this, how did you get the job as his racing secretary?’
Pippa batted her hand.
‘Long story. The short version is that he trains a horse that I own.’
‘How lovely. Have we heard of him?’
Pippa pulled a doubtful face.
‘Probably not. Does Peace Offering ring a bell?’
Ginny shook her head and Pippa nodded.
‘No, I thought not. He’s not exactly the Kauto Star of the yard, as someone once said, but...’
‘But?’ Julien prompted.
Pippa felt embarrassed all of a sudden, telling two virtual strangers who must be experts in their profession, her naive hopes for her horse.
‘I want to run him in the Grand National,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Jack isn’t quite so optimistic. He’s probably right. It is a bit pie in the sky.’
Ginny and Julien exchanged a small smile.
‘Don’t let that stop you,’ she said to Pip
pa. She turned back to Caspian to fuss him some more before continuing. ‘On paper Caspian didn’t stand a chance in the Dewhurst Stakes. He was one of the outsiders in the race. But he made all the sceptics eat their words when he won.’ She gave Pippa a warm smile. ‘If you have a dream, don’t let anybody talk you out of it. Anything can happen in racing.’
Looking at Ginny, Pippa saw the young trainer believed every word she spoke. And she was a trainer. She must know what she was talking about. A tiny ball of anticipation flickered inside her. What was it? Hope? Belief? She had an overwhelming urge to hug Ginny. Wrapping her coat more tightly around her, she restrained herself.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I’ll remember that.’
The light snow was still drifting down that evening as Pippa closed the office door behind her and headed past the stables to her car. From within the nearer stables, she could hear the horses munching on their supper and the thought of them cosily wrapped up in their blankets and knee-deep in bedding brought new warmth to her bones. This feeling rapidly evaporated when she stepped into the Beetle, into temperatures that Health and Safety standards would have found acceptable for freezing meat.
Her teeth chattering, she turned the car down the long sloping driveway onto the main road. Against the murky darkness, the Beetle’s headlights illuminated the white landscape, whipping up the peaceful descent of flakes in its slipstream. Pippa squinted through the foggy visibility. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth.
Her tension eased as she pulled onto the main road that linked Helensvale to the rest of civilisation. It was still carpeted with snow, but at least the lanes were wider.
To take her mind off the cold, she switched on the car’s disc player. Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she listened for a few moments to Take That tripping their way through Patience before her own gave out and she ejected the CD. Keeping one hand on the wheel, she held up the disc to check for dirt or scratches. She flicked her gaze back to the road. She breathed on the disc, a satisfying fog coating the shiny surface then rubbed it on her leg.
‘Shit,’ Pippa muttered as the disc slipped out of her hand and down to her feet.
Craning her neck so she could partially see the road through the steering wheel, she leant down to retrieve it. A movement up ahead caught her eye. She looked up, suddenly dazzled by the floodlight glare of an oncoming truck. It rushed past her, the wind and snowy debris on the road buffeting the Beetle.
Pippa blinked frantically, trying to adjust her vision to the pitch black she was now plunged into. The disc slipped from her hand again as the car’s wheels caught a thick rut in the road. The car veered left. Pippa slammed her foot on the brake pedal.
Feeling the tyres begin to slip, she grappled with the wheel to straighten them.
‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ she muttered through gritted teeth as she struggled with the car’s momentum.
It was already in a slide.
She was powerless to stop it from skimming off the road.
Pippa opened her eyes. She removed her shaking hands from the wheel and leant her head back. The car tilted drunkenly into a ditch. With a sigh of resignation, she switched off the engine and unclipped her seatbelt. She pushed the door open, wincing as it bounced back and hit her on the shin.
Hugging her coat around her, she skirted the bonnet, pulling a face at the lone right headlight torching a beam of silvery light into a nearby hedge. A lethargic glow from the left headlight pierced through the dense snow packed around it. The whole car was pitched at a precarious angle.
Pippa wondered if she might be able to reverse out of the ditch.
‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ she shrugged, turning back to the driver’s side.
Easing back into her seat so she wouldn’t upset the car’s balance, she turned on the ignition and crunched the stiff gear lever into Reverse. Her heart skipped a beat as the wheels found traction and inched backwards, but a moment later it was gone again and the wheels spun on the packed snow.
‘Bugger, bugger, bugger! Damn, damn, damn! Bloody hell!’
She leaned her forehead on the cold steering wheel. She didn’t know if the AA would be able to find her out here, besides which, she thought with a grimace, she hadn’t included breakdown cover in her insurance policy. She groaned. Jack would have a field day when he found out. She looked over shoulder, relieved that at least the car was more or less off the road then tried to work out what to do next.
Call for a Helensvale taxi? Walk home? It would have been a ten minute drive from here, she figured. It would take her forever to walk, especially in the snow. Would she make it in the cold? She’d try for a taxi first.
She scooped her mobile out of her bag. She groaned again when she saw the stark text No signal – Emergency calls only.
Did this count as an emergency? Was one allowed to ring 999 to order a taxi? Probably not, she would have to be suffering from hypothermia and frostbite before she qualified.
She stuffed her phone back into her bag and got out of the car, slamming the door as she did so. With a rueful shake of her head, she watched the Beetle tip what few inches it had regained, back into the ditch. She tucked her chin into the upturned collar of her coat, plugged her hands into her pockets and trudged in the direction of Hazyvale, snowflakes tickling her frozen cheeks.
Pippa felt like she had walked miles, but when she turned to look back at the lonesome outline of her car, she realised with a sinking heart that she had barely gone two hundred metres. Hunching her shoulders, she pressed on.
Moments later, her shadow began to deepen in front of her as a car approached from behind. Pippa stopped, ready to wave them down. She saw it slow as it passed the Beetle then watched as it drove on towards her. A sigh of relief flooded her chest as she saw the indicator switch on just as it reached her. She pushed away the sliver of unease as she recalled the horror stories of butchered hitchhikers. The passenger door was pushed open and she bent her head to see the driver.
‘Finn!’ she cried. ‘Thank God it’s you!’
‘Y’ all right, Pippa? I thought that was yer car back there. Come, get in before you freeze yourself to death.’
Pippa didn’t need to be asked twice. She hopped into the heated car and rubbed her hands together in an attempt to build some warmth.
Finn gave her a sympathetic smile and brushed a frozen tendril of her hair behind her ear.
‘What happened?’
While he drove, Pippa explained.
‘...And I couldn’t see a thing. Then I lost control and it went into the ditch,’ she concluded with a defeated shrug. ‘I’ve never driven in snow. I didn’t know what I was meant to do.’
Finn shook his head.
‘An easy mistake to make if you’re not used to this weather. By the sounds of it, you probably would have ended up in the ditch no matter what. Do you not have breakdown recovery?’
‘No. I was trying to cut costs.’
‘Not a bother. I’ll drive you home and we’ll sort your car out tomorrow.’
‘Will it be okay, do you think?’ she asked, wringing her thawing hands.
‘Aye, for the night it will be. The traffic’s not mad on this road, you know yourself, and there’ll be even less in this weather.’
Pippa made a non-committal noise, wondering how on earth she would get around if her car was broken and couldn’t be driven.
Finn turned off onto the single lane road leading to Hazyvale House and Pippa flashed him a grateful smile.
‘Thank you for helping. I would have been out there walking for hours if you hadn’t come by. I don’t know what enjoyment Ralph Fiennes gets from trekking across the Arctic. I hope I haven’t made you late for anything.’
Finn gave her a strange look, which was quickly replaced with his usual smile.
‘No, I was headin’ into Helensvale to see someone at The Plough – a friend. I’ll only be a couple of minutes late.’
‘Must be a special friend to make you drive o
n a night like this,’ Pippa grinned.
Finn gave an awkward chuckle.
‘Aye, special is one word to describe ’em.’
Pippa stopped him at Hazyvale’s gate.
‘Now don’t you worry nothin’ about tomorrow. I’ll pick you up for work and we’ll sort out a tractor or something to haul your car out as well.’
She felt so grateful she wanted to kiss him, but resisted the urge. Instead, she gave him her sincerest smile and let herself out.
‘Thanks again. Enjoy the rest of your evening.’
‘You too. Oh, and Pippa?’
Pippa paused as she went to swing the door shut.
‘Yes?’
‘Sir Ranulph Fiennes.’
‘Sorry?’
Finn grinned.
‘You said Ralph Fiennes enjoyed trekking across the Arctic. Yer Ralph Fiennes is an actor, you know. Sir Ranulph Fiennes is the mad git who walked everywhere in snow boots.’
Pippa snorted.
‘Ah, yes. Quite right.’
Finn winked.
‘Goodnight then.’
Pippa closed the door and wobbled in her heels up the uneven driveway. She turned as Finn tooted the horn and waved as he drove away. She sighed and continued on towards the front door. What a disastrous night. What more disasters would tomorrow bring?
Chapter Eighteen
As promised, Finn was waiting for Pippa the next morning, the exhaust from his idling car belching out thick steamy fumes which drifted across Hazyvale’s driveway. The snow had stopped falling and what had settled on the ground was beginning to turn to slush.
Pippa hurried from her front door into the front seat, sighing exultantly as she was met by the furnace blast of the heater.
‘Thank you for helping me out.’
‘Not a bother.’ Finn patted her clasped hands.
She noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes and concluded whoever the ‘friend’ was that he had met up with last night hadn’t let him get to bed until late. Or perhaps hadn’t let him get to sleep might be more appropriate, she corrected her thoughts. Going to bed didn’t necessitate sleeping.
Keeping the Peace Page 14
