‘I’ll make sure someone does.’
‘What about this trick?’ I ask.
‘Patience,’ Robbie smiles. He catches Rafa and takes him to the tap, where he hoses him down before he leads him, his coat dripping, on to the grass in the nearest paddock. He encourages him to lower his head, rewarding him with a treat from his pocket when he starts to paw the ground. I can see what he’s doing now, rewarding the behaviour that he wants. Rafa wants to lie down and have a good roll, but he isn’t sure about going ahead while Robbie is invading his personal space.
He begins to sink to his knees, but changes his mind. Robbie rewards him again. He keeps him moving, making clicking sounds in his throat.
‘The cue I use is “down”,’ he says.
Rafa lowers himself to the ground.
‘Good boy,’ Robbie says, letting him go on to roll and cover himself with dust and grass stains. He stands up and shakes himself. ‘I’ll keep doing this over the next however long it takes for him to respond to the verbal command. Would you like to put him away?’
‘Yes, I’ll do it.’
‘And if you have any more spare time, I’d be very grateful if you could help by getting the horses’ gear ready for tomorrow: travel boots, rugs, water, et cetera.’ He checks his watch. ‘I’m off to collect Maisie from school. I’ll catch you later.’
‘I’ve bought dinner,’ I say, but he’s already on his way at a run.
I collect up the equipment that the team needs for the show the following day and load some of it into the lorry. When Robbie comes back with Maisie, I notice how Rafa looks out over his stable door and whinnies in recognition of his new master.
In that moment, my heart shatters, because his reaction confirms that our special bond is broken. I turn towards the barn where my van stands gleaming in the sunshine, but it’s no consolation. My horse has transferred his allegiance to Robbie and I don’t think I can bear to stay and watch their bond develop.
All in all, it hasn’t been the best of days. I’ve realised that building a business here in this area will take a very long time; in the interim, I’ll be dependent on hand-outs from Robbie. I can’t even claim that I’d be working on the yard in return when the new groom starts on Monday. Robbie’s right that we could overcome these challenges in time, but there’s the underlying deeper issue that lies between us – the apparent inability of either of us to commit. He thinks I’m flaky because I’ve kept going on about leaving Furzeworthy, while I can’t help feeling that he’s using Maisie as an excuse not to fully commit to me. We have deep-rooted differences: my stubborn refusal to compromise on my independence and his inability to communicate what he’s really thinking.
It’s time for me to go.
It isn’t hard to set my plan into action when it’s been at the back of my mind for a while. I stand in the tack room counting out eight sets of travel boots and tail guards. I’ll pack my belongings, call Sarah to ask if I can stay for a couple of days to see the new baby, and find a place to rent while I set myself up. I’ve done my research and there’s an area not far from where Robbie and I saw the randy stallion – I’m talking about the horse, not the owner – where one of the local farriers has recently retired and no one has yet stepped in to fill his shoes. I’ll get a load of flyers printed and blitz every yard, riding school and tack shop.
The thought of starting afresh is exciting, daunting and devastatingly sad. I won’t be taking Rafa with me this time. I’ll be completely alone, with no one to care for except myself. I bite back tears as I step outside and make my way back to the cottage.
I kick off my boots and go upstairs to my room, Carla’s room, where I start to throw a few things into a suitcase as what sounds like a herd of elephants comes charging up the stairs. The door flies open, revealing Maisie dressed in her school uniform.
‘Hello,’ I say.
‘Hello, I had sausages and baked beans for dinner,’ she says.
‘I can tell – you have half of it down your front.’
She glances down and smiles. ‘Miss Fox told me off because I said a rude word.’
‘Oh dear. I won’t ask you what it was,’ I say, but Maisie is going to tell me anyway, except that just before it slips out, she presses her hand to her mouth and bursts into a fit of giggles.
‘Where are you going?’ she asks, running in and bouncing on to the bed.
‘I’m heading off to stay with my friend Sarah.’
‘When are you coming back?’
I gaze at her. She sucks on her upper lip, making it disappear.
‘I don’t know,’ I say quietly. I don’t want to upset her, but I don’t want to lie either.
‘Aren’t you going to live with me and my daddy any more?’
‘No,’ I say, turning away to hide my anguish.
‘But I’ll miss you,’ she cries. ‘I miss you already.’
‘I’ll miss you too.’ I turn back to find her holding her arms up to me. I give her a hug. ‘I’m sorry.’ I can feel my shirt growing damp. ‘I’ll come back and see you sometimes.’
She sniffs. ‘And Paddington?’
‘And Paddington,’ I confirm.
‘And Daddy?’
‘Yes.’ I release her and she slides off the bed on to her feet. She gives me a long teary stare before turning and stumbling out of the room. ‘Where are you going?’ I call after her, but she doesn’t respond. I hear the sound of voices downstairs, Maisie and Robbie having a discussion, and my heart sinks even further than I thought possible. I should have broken the news of my plans to Robbie gently before exposing Maisie to them. I close my suitcase and snap the catches shut as the tread of heavy footsteps grows closer. I’ve been a thoughtless bitch.
The bedroom door is thrown open so hard that the brass handle hits the wall.
‘Robbie? I’m sorry. Where’s Maisie?’
‘I’ve given her some crisps and sent her to watch a DVD. Luckily, she’s still obsessed by Frozen.’ He moves across and stands at the end of the bed with his arms folded. ‘What’s all this about? Please, tell me that she’s got it wrong.’
‘She hasn’t,’ I say, shaking my head miserably.
‘This is exactly why I insisted on protecting her,’ he exclaims. ‘What do you think you’re doing? She’s devastated, and so am I that you’ve decided to leave us. When were you going to mention it to me?’
‘This evening. I didn’t mean for Maisie to find out before I’d spoken to you.’
He sits down at the end of the bed. ‘I can hardly believe it,’ he says gruffly. ‘I thought you were staying on, at least for a while.’
‘I have to go where the work is,’ I say in a small voice.
‘Sometimes you come across as being very selfish,’ he says, his tone like iron. ‘I suppose that comes of being an only child.’
‘I’m not selfish,’ I say, annoyed at being judged, especially because I know that he’s right.
‘When are you intending to go?’
I can hardly breathe, let alone speak. ‘As soon as I can,’ I mutter.
‘I’d appreciate it if you could stay until after the weekend.’
‘I’ll stay until Monday. I wasn’t planning to leave you in the lurch.’
‘Well, that’s very considerate of you,’ he says, his voice laced with sarcasm. ‘Flick, I wish I knew what was going on in your head. Is this about Rafa?’ He moves closer and gazes at my face. I can’t bring myself to look at him. It’s too painful. ‘Your eyes are red.’
‘I got some saddle soap in them earlier.’
‘Please, tell me the truth.’
‘Okay, I’m upset because he’s transferred his affections to you.’
‘You’re jealous?’
‘A bit,’ I confess. ‘I know that sounds stupid, but—’
‘I’ve been the stupid one,’ he cuts in. He rubs at his neck, raising a red rash. I can feel the anger radiating from his skin. ‘You used me! I took you in and helped you out, and now you’ve kicked i
t all back in my face. Did you plan this all along? I didn’t realise you could be so cold and calculating.’
‘I did nothing of the sort.’ Part of me wants to throw my arms around him and hold him tight, while another part of me wants to punch him.
‘I thought you cared about me and Maisie. I thought you loved me!’ he exclaims.
‘I do. Of course I love you.’
‘I adore you. I’d have done anything for you.’ He stands up, his shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘I knew this would happen. I knew you didn’t love me enough and that one day you’d walk out on me.’ He hesitates as he reaches the doorway.
‘You can’t have known that in advance,’ I call after him.
He glances back towards me, his face etched with anger, frustration and grief. My heart aches because I never intended to hurt him.
‘It was inevitable. The people I love the most always leave me in the end.’
‘Robbie, come back,’ I shout as he disappears on to the landing and his footsteps fade down the stairs. I jump up and follow him to the living room, where he sweeps a protesting Maisie out of her chair and away from the adventures of Elsa and Anna.
‘Daddy, where are we going?’ she says.
‘To Uncle Dillon’s,’ he says harshly.
‘I was going to make dinner,’ I say.
‘Do whatever you like,’ he says. ‘It’s what you always do.’
‘We need to talk. Give me a few minutes. Please.’
‘I’m done with talking. I need to focus on the show tomorrow.’ He sits Maisie on the bottom step in the hall and helps her put her sandals on. He slips into a pair of battered shoes and whistles for the dogs, who follow him and his daughter out of the front door. Through a blur of tears, I watch them walk down the path between the cherry trees where the fruits have ripened to the colour of deep burgundy.
Why hasn’t he said any of this to me before? And what stopped me from speaking up? Suddenly, I realise that we are as bad as each other, and if we are to have any chance of making our relationship work, one of us will have to give. And it looks as if it will have to be me. A flicker of hope emerges from my despair. I just hope that it isn’t too late.
Chapter Twenty-One
Negotiate with a Stallion, Tell a Gelding, and Ask a Mare
At dawn on the morning of the third Saturday in June, the day of the show, I find myself wading through rivers of silver dew, leaving green trails through the horses’ fields. There’s a lake of white mist lying across the Taly valley and the veils of cloud are slipping aside to make way for the sun that’s rising from behind the hills.
I lead the horses in two and three at a time – apart from Diva, whom I bring in on her own. Paddington and T-rex are waiting at their gate, as are Rafa and Nelson. I take a quick selfie of me and Rafa. He nuzzles my face, then takes the peak of my cap between his lips and pulls it off my head. I jam it back on before catching Scout and Dennis.
‘I’m sorry, guys,’ I say as I lead them past the others. ‘You’re staying out today. There’s nothing doing.’
Once I’ve got all the horses that are needed on the yard, munching on their morning feeds, I turn on the radio for some music. I pick out their feet and give each one a quick brush. I rinse the grass stains off the greys and make sure there are no knots in any manes or tails.
I’m grooming Scout when Dillon makes an appearance at seven, half an hour before we’re due to load. He looks slightly the worse for wear.
‘You look like you had a heavy night,’ I observe lightly.
‘I feel a bit rough.’ He yawns. ‘I took the Robster out for a few drinks to try to cheer him up, and Maisie was still up when I got him home. I stayed to babysit the both of them while Mum went back to the big house to sleep. Robbie was up all night. Flick, he’s really cut up about you leaving.’
I don’t know what to say. I run my fingers through Scout’s tail, picking out an imaginary tangle.
‘I understand your reasons for pushing off, but isn’t there any way you can compromise?’ he goes on. ‘Can’t you hang around for a little while longer? Give it another month or so and see how you feel then? You’re perfect for Robbie … and we’re all fond of you – me, Mum and Dad. It won’t be the same without you. We haven’t known you long but you’re already part of the family.’ He groans. ‘Oh God, I feel sick.’ He turns on the tap and drinks from the end of the hose. ‘That’s better.’ He wipes his mouth and forces a smile. ‘What about your horse? Won’t you stay for him at least?’
‘He isn’t my horse any more,’ I say flatly. My Rafa, my fifty shades of grey, is no longer mine. ‘It’s hard for me to watch him bonding with Robbie.’ I bite back a sob, but Dillon has noticed. He moves up to me and rests his arm across my shoulders.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says.
‘When he was a foal, I promised him he’d be mine for ever.’ I recall a memory of wrapping my arms around his neck and whispering in his furry ear. ‘That makes me feel even worse. I’ve betrayed him.’
‘Surely it’s better to be able to see him every day than never see him again?’
‘You don’t understand.’
It’s agony, I think, like having a nail driven into your heart.
Dillon shrugs and changes the subject. ‘You’ve brought Diva in?’
‘I have, but are you absolutely sure that you want to take her?’
‘We have no choice. Rafa isn’t ready, while Diva has half an idea of what she’s doing.’ He smiles. ‘She was fine yesterday, but I’m still a little worried she’ll do a comedy routine and do her own thing. Robbie’s going to work with her – he can persuade her to cooperate, whereas I can’t. She’s a witch.’
‘Go and make yourself useful then. There’s a summer sheet, tail guard and set of boots outside each stable.’
Within half an hour, all the horses are ready to travel. I don’t make a bad groom, even though I say it myself. The horses look stunning and I wish I was going to the show too.
Robbie brings the lorry on to the yard and parks with the ramp down. Sally Ann and Maisie take cool-bags and plastic crates of kit up into the living quarters, while Neil stands talking on his mobile. Robbie waits beside the ramp while Dillon and I load the horses one by one, leading them into the lorry and tying them up. He fastens the partitions between them so they don’t kick each other on the journey. Scout tries to take a chunk out of Dennis, who retaliates with his ears pinned back and baring his teeth.
‘Hey, stop that,’ I tell them. Dennis tosses his head as if in defiance, but they soon settle down. It’s like two brothers having a scrap. They do that now and again, and I think of Robbie and Dillon, who can love and hate each other at the same time. My heart aches when I try to catch Robbie’s eye as he slips the pin into the ring to secure the partition. He’s avoiding me.
The last horse to load is Diva. Dillon fetches her from her stable. She prances about as he leads her to the ramp, where she stops, plants all four feet and refuses to move.
I scratch my head, wondering how best to approach the problem. There are seven horses on the lorry. Diva is the eighth member of the equine team that Robbie and Dillon are using today to entertain and enthral the audience, and impress the TV producer who is making a special journey at Robbie’s invitation. He’s done so much work, devoted so many hours to making the display perfect, that Diva must go in. The show has to go on.
Dillon turns Diva away, chivvies her and makes to run up the ramp. She trots alongside him. She stops at the bottom, but Dillon doesn’t. The rope tightens under her nose with a jolt. She tosses her head, breaking the clip attaching the rope to the head-collar.
Robbie fetches a knotted halter that applies pressure to various points on the mare’s head, to encourage her to move up the ramp, but she hates the sensation and rears almost upright.
‘Take that thing off,’ Robbie says. ‘I don’t want her going over backwards.’
‘She has to get used to it,’ Dillon argues. ‘You can’t let her wi
n.’
‘It isn’t about winning. You can negotiate with a stallion and tell a gelding, but you have to ask a mare,’ Robbie says. ‘Take the halter off. And the boots. She doesn’t like the travel boots.’
‘For goodness sake,’ Dillon snaps. ‘You’re always pandering to them. Who do you think you are? Monty bloody Roberts?’ he says, naming a famous horse whisperer.
‘I’d rather whisper at her than shout,’ Robbie says.
‘Walk on, you silly mare,’ Dillon yells. Diva rolls her eyes and paws the ramp in a threatening manner.
‘Let me have her.’ Robbie snatches the lead rope from his brother. ‘You’re too bloody impatient. You’re winding her up.’
‘Hey, that isn’t fair. She has to learn to fit in. We can’t have this palaver every time we load the horses.’
It doesn’t help that neither of the brothers is cool and calm. Everyone is on edge this morning. Diva’s putting on a performance of entirely the wrong kind.
Robbie changes the halter for Diva’s usual head-collar before walking her away to the hedge on the drive to let her pull a few mouthfuls of herbs. I fetch a bucket of feed and two lunge-lines. Robbie holds the bucket in front of her nose while Dillon and I tighten the ropes around her bottom, pulling her into the lorry. As Dillon and I look across at each other, wearing triumphant smiles, she shoots backwards. (Who says horses don’t have a sense of humour?)
‘What the …?’ Robbie exclaims as he half trips, half runs back down the ramp with her. ‘What do you think you’re doing, Dillon? Why did you have to go and have a hangover today of all days?’
‘I didn’t plan it.’
‘You never do. That’s your trouble – you don’t take life seriously. If this goes on, I’m going to look for a replacement.’
‘You’ll never find another brother like me.’
‘I mean a new team member.’
‘You can’t do that.’ It dawns on Dillon that Robbie means it. ‘We’ve always worked together. We built the team up from scratch. We choreographed the stunts. You can’t go and replace me.’
‘Oh, I can and I will. I’ve had enough.’
Springtime at Cherry Tree Cottage Page 31
