by Ros Clarke
Of course he was busy this week. Fliss had seen the daily schedule pinned up inside the tack room and the lists she had compled for Luke in the office. He had counted on her being there to help share some of the load. She would have been the one to deal with the daily phone calls from Mr Zhao. She would have taken care of double-checking the arrangements for stabling the horses overnight at Epsom. And she would have made sure that Luke was eating properly. He couldn't survive a week like this on takeaway food and coffee cake.
She could go back. Tell Luke that she was just coming to be his temp for a few days. Sleep in a different bedroom.
Her body revolted at the thought. There was no way Fliss could sleep in Luke's house without wanting to be in his bed.
Besides, there was no way she could go back without causing even more chaos and disruption and she wouldn't do that to Luke now, not when he already had so much on his plate. She needed to look to the future instead and let Luke take care of himself. She hadn't even signed on with an agency since she'd been back in London.
She'd told Luke she wanted to go travelling. Maybe she should do that instead. Fliss reached for her laptop and started to search for round the world tickets. But none of the destinations caught her attention. She didn’t want to go to Mauritius or Australia, Chile or Canada. She wanted to go to Newmarket. She wanted to go home.
He could call her. Luke still had Fliss's number saved on his mobile phone. More than once he'd thought about it. Planned how the conversation might go. He could tell her how Marshmallow was doing. Or Chrysanthemum. Ask her the best way to stop Mrs Zhao for talking for hours on the phone when he had things he really needed to do. Every time he stopped himself. It wasn't fair to Fliss.
She'd decided to leave and he needed to give her that space. If she came back - when she came back - it needed to be her own choice. She needed to overcome her own demons and, as much as it pained him to admit it, Luke knew he couldn't do it for her.
He scooped Marshmallow up and let the kitten curl up happily on his lap. He was glad that Fliss's cat was still here. It was as if she had left a promise that one day she would return. And if, in the meantime, Marshmallow chose to sleep on Luke's warm bed, snuggled into the duvet, he wasn't going to complain. There wasn't anyone else he wanted warming his bed until Fliss returned, after all.
At least he could be thankful that his week was full. Work kept his mind off Fliss, more or less. Chrysanthemum was looking better and better every day. The antibiotics were completely out of his system now and he was working hard. Luke no longer had worries that he would stay the distance. There was stamina as well as speed in the stallion's strong form. He was the most incredible horse Luke had ever trained and he'd been around the business long enough to know he might never have another like this.
Each day Luke worked methodically through the lists Fliss had made for him. He stuck to his schedule and didn’t allow himself to dwell on Saturday. There was no point living through the anxiety more than once. He knew what needed to be done, and worrying himself into a frenzy wasn't going to help. The stable lads were already on edge and the jockey he hired to ride out each day was looking increasingly awed by his task. They all needed Luke to be their calm centre to keep them focussed on their task without panicking.
What Luke needed was someone waiting at home to distract him at the end of the day. Someone to make him smile and relax with the twinkle of her green-gold eyes or the dimple at the corner of her extremely kissable lips. Someone who only had to slide a hand under the hem of his shirt to have him thinking the wickedest of thoughts. He needed Fliss. God, he hoped she would come on Saturday. He didn't know how he was supposed to get through the day without her there.
Fliss took out the pink shiny badge for the hundredth time.
‘You’ll wear that out if you’re not careful.’
She looked up, but her mum was smiling. On an impulse she hadn’t liked to examine too closely, Fliss had taken Luke’s advice. She’d called her mother from the station and asked if it would be okay to come and stay for a week or two.
They had made her welcome. Hugo especially had gone out of his way to make sure she felt at home. Her mother just looked at her with so much love and gratefulness that Fliss knew she’d done the right thing.
‘I know,’ Fliss sighed. ‘I just can’t decide whether I should go or not.’
‘Tell me about him,’ her mother invited. ‘I’ve made a pot of tea and there’s a coffee and walnut cake.’
Fliss smiled ruefully. ‘That’s Luke’s favourite.’
‘I thought it was your favourite.’
‘It is.’
She took her tea gratefully and sipped it slowly while she wondered what to tell her mother.
‘He scares me.’
Jill raised her eyebrows. ‘Scares you? How?’
Fliss bit her lip. She wasn’t completely sure herself. But when she thought about Luke, she felt as if she was standing at the top of a high cliff, terrified of falling but unable to move away from the edge. She’d started having nightmares again, dreams that had haunted her childhood, of falling down stairs, or out of windows. Fliss woke with a thud each time she landed, shaking and fearful, and hardly sure if she was still alive.
Her mother handed her a large slice of cake. Fliss thanked her shakily and started to crumble the cake into pieces.
‘Darling, what is it that you are so afraid of?’
Fliss tried to explain. ‘He makes me want to promise things I can’t. He makes me want to risk everything and when I daren’t, he makes me feel like a coward.’
‘You love him.’ Jill gave her daughter a knowing look.
Fliss shrugged. ‘Maybe. Yes. So what?’
Of course she loved him. How could she not love him? He was Luke. He was kind and strong and fun and serious and sexy and patient and gorgeous, and he loved her.
That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was whether she could keep loving him. Whether he would keep loving her. Whether it was worth the risk of breaking his heart and having hers broken.
‘And he loves you?’
‘He says so.’
‘Then, darling, what are you doing here?’
Fliss stared at her mother in bewilderment. If anyone should understand, she’d thought it would be her. ‘Because I don’t want that! I never did. I promised myself I’d never fall in love like….’
‘Like me?’ Jill removed Fliss’s cup and plate and took hold of her daughter’s hands. ‘Is this because of me, Felicity? Have I made you so afraid of love that you won’t chase after it and grasp it with both hands when you find it? Have I hurt you so much?’
‘Not you.’ Fliss shook her head vehemently. ‘You never hurt me.’
‘But I did, didn’t I? Every time I fell for a guy and let him become part of your life, I hurt you a little more, because every time I knew he would leave.’
‘You knew?’ She looked up at her mother in surprise. Fliss had always assumed that Jill was as shocked and devastated as she had been every time another guy walked out on them.
Jill sighed. ‘Yes, sweetheart, I knew. No matter how much I hoped it would be different each time. No matter how hard I tried to persuade myself I’d found the one, I always knew.’
Fliss pulled her hands free and picked up her tea cup again while she thought about this. Eventually she asked, ‘What about Hugo?’
Her mother’s face transformed into a wide smile. ‘Everything changed when I met Hugo. I’m only sorry that it was too late for you. For the kind of stability you needed.’
‘He’s really the one?’
Jill laughed. ‘Yes, darling, he really is.’
‘You’re not afraid that one morning he’ll suddenly tell you it’s over?’ But Fliss could see the deep contentment in her mother’s eyes and she knew what the answer was going to be.
‘No. Is that what you’re afraid of with Luke?’
Fliss felt hot tears spring to her eyes. ‘I’m afraid he’ll bre
ak my heart.’
‘Oh, darling.’ Jill moved to sit on the sofa, next to Fliss, and put her arms around her daughter.
Safe in her mother’s embrace, Fliss let her tears flood out.
A few minutes later, Hugo came in. ‘Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb.’ He was already backing out of the door.
Fliss lifted her head and smiled at him through her wet eyes. ‘No, come in.’
With all the caution natural to a middle-aged Englishman confronted by a crying woman, Hugo edged into the room and sat on the stuffed leather armchair furthest from Jill and Fliss. Fliss caught the worried glance he shot her mother.
‘It’s fine,’ she assured him. ‘I’m finished now. I don’t suppose you have a hanky I could borrow?’
Hugo produced a beautiful navy blue silk square with pale aqua polka dots and handed it to Fliss who looked at it doubtfully.
‘Is it really okay to blow my nose on this?’
They all laughed and Hugo nodded his permission.
‘Thanks. I’d better wash it before I give it back.’
‘No, you keep it, sweetheart.’
Fliss beamed at him. ‘Thanks.’ She turned to her mother. ‘And thank you, too. I think I know what I’m going to do now. But first I have to go shopping. I really need some new shoes.’
Chapter Ten
Pink. Glossy. Wedge heeled. Wellington boots.
Wellington boots?
Luke felt the smile creeping across his face. Glamorous. Frivolous. Utterly practical. Totally unexpected. They were the perfect shoes for a day at the races. All around the course, women were struggling with heels sinking into the good-to-soft ground and men were cursing them for putting their appearance above their common sense.
But not Fliss. She had chosen the perfect shoes. Perfectly sensible and perfectly gorgeous.
He’d spotted her walking across the track. Luke made his excuses to the friends he had been chatting to and elbowed his way through to the rails. He wasn't going to rush out and toss her over his shoulder this time. He'd wait for her to come to him.
‘Great shoes,’ Luke said, when Fliss was near enough to hear.
She lifted her foot slightly, giving him a better view. 'Thanks.'
It wasn't just the shoes that had caught his attention. Her lime green dress was splashed with huge embroidered bright pink flowers and her pink hat clashed dramatically with her bright chestnut hair. Fliss had clearly dressed to be noticed.
'Great outfit.'
She grinned and returned the compliment. 'You don't look so bad yourself.'
It was Derby Day and Luke was dressed to meet the requirements of the Queen’s Stand - full morning dress in a dark grey and traditional striped trousers, together with the requisite silk top hat. The outfit suited Luke’s tall, lean frame and he carried off the hat with panache. His waistcoat was a sober grey, but he had chosen a lavender blue silk tie which brought out the warmth of his cornflower coloured eyes.
'I'm glad you came,' he said.
'Me too.’
They had never had trouble finding conversation before but this felt ridiculously awkward. There were so many things Luke wanted to say and none of them were allowed.
He wanted to ask how she'd been. Had she missed him like he'd missed her? Had she struggled to sleep at night in an empty bed? Or had she found someone else to fill that gap?
Instead he carefully stuck to neutral subjects. 'The Zhaos are here. I know they would like to see you again.'
'I’d like that,’ Fliss replied. After a pause, she added, ‘How is Chrysanthemum?'
Luke's face remained impassively calm. 'He travelled well and ate his breakfast this morning. We're just trying to keep him quiet now.'
'Can I see him?'
'Not down at the stables but you can come into the paddock before the race if you like.'
'Yes, please.'
Luke nodded, studying her face carefully for signs that she might have changed her mind but Fliss gave nothing away. Her smile was just as wicked and her eyes just as tempting as ever.
Maybe he should have just thrown her over his shoulder like the first time and carried her away somewhere private where they could say all the things they really wanted to and then kiss each other senseless until nothing and no one else mattered. For a mad moment, Luke wondered if he could still try the caveman approach.
Then Fliss spoke again. 'Have you got time for a drink?' she asked.
Luke checked his watch. 'No, I need to head down to the stables in a minute. But I'll take you up to the Zhaos' box first. I expect the champagne is already flowing freely up there.'
The Zhaos box was right at the top of the Queen’s Stand. Fliss took one look at the balcony and retreated to a safe corner with her back to the window and a calming glass of champagne which she gulped down. Those railings hadn’t looked at all secure. If she tripped, she could easily fall through the six inch gaps between them. Or topple over the waist-high barrier. Much better to stay safely indoors and not think about the thirty foot drop outside.
Fortunately, the room was packed with the Zhaos' wealthy and glamorous friends and Fliss found plenty of people to chat to. Eventually, Mr Zhao announced that the Derby horses were on their way to the paddock. The crowd dispersed to place their bets. Mr and Mrs Zhao smiled broadly at Fliss and indicated that she should go with them to see Chrysanthemum. And Luke.
She could see immediately that Luke was barely holding himself together. The cords in his neck were stretched taut and his lips were tightly pressed together. Fliss went to stand beside him and slipped her hand into his.
Luke looked down at their joined hands in surprise but said nothing. He greeted the Zhaos warmly and answered their questions politely, though his eyes never left the dark horse prancing around the ring, barely held in check by his stable lad.
'He's looking lively,' said Mr Zhao.
'Yes,' Luke replied briefly.
Fliss had no idea whether that was a good sign or not and from Mr Zhao's expression she guessed that he didn't either, but neither of them dared ask Luke again.
A bell rang and the grooms brought the horses into the centre of the paddock. Luke checked Chrysanthemum over briefly, then gave the jockey a leg up onto the tiny racing saddle. Chrysanthemum threw his head back and danced away.
'Is he all right?' asked Mrs Zhao anxiously.
'Fine,' Luke bit out.
And indeed the jockey quickly got the horse under control, so that when the signal was given, Chrysanthemum trotted calmly out onto the course with all the others.
'That's it, then,' Luke said under his breath.
'You've done everything you could,' Mr Zhao assured him. 'We know that.'
Fliss simply squeezed Luke's hand.
They were all silent on their way up to the Zhaos' box. A waiter appeared as they entered the room, handing heavy cut-glass tumblers of whisky to the men. Luke offered his to Fliss but she shook her head. He clearly needed it more than she did.
'They're down at the start,' someone called out.
Luke strode towards the balcony. Fliss hung back nervously. He turned and held out his hand to her.
'Watch with me?'
Fliss took a deep breath. She stepped shakily towards Luke and slipped her hand into his. She could do this. For Luke, she could do this. She just wouldn't look down. Or breathe. Or open her eyes.
'I'm sorry.' Luke slipped his arm around her shoulders. 'I should have remembered you don't like heights. Shall we go down and watch from the stands?'
'There isn't time.' The last horses were being led into the starting stalls.
'We could watch it on the screen.' The luxury box had a huge flatscreen TV with a livestream of the racing.
'It's the Derby, Luke. We have to watch it live. I'll be fine.' She managed a brief smile. 'So long as you hold my hand.'
Luke squeezed her shoulders briefly. 'I can do better than that.'
He led Fliss to the front of the balcony, setting both her hands f
irmly on the railing, then wrapped his own strong arms securely about her waist.
'I won't let you fall,' he murmured into Fliss's ear. Her heart fluttered at the scent of him and the whisper of his breath across her cheek. She opened her eyes cautiously. 'Just watch the race and relax,' he instructed.
She raised her gaze to the far side of the track where the starting stalls were located. But with Luke's broad chest to lean back on, Fliss barely noticed when the tape lifted and the horses sprang forward.
She noticed when Luke’s breathing started to speed up and when his arms tightened around her. She could feel the rapid pulse beating in his neck and the tense muscles in his jaw where it rested against her head.
Fliss tried to focus on the race. Chrysanthemum’s vivid violet blue and emerald green silks were easy to pick out. He was in third place. Third was good. Third meant there were lots of horses behind him.
Her fingers tightened around the railing. She remembered what Luke had said the first day they’d met. Training Chrysanthemum for this race was like training Linford Christie for the marathon. He was doing well now but there was no guarantee he could keep going right to the finish line.
Luke watched in impassive silence. Fliss was back where she belonged in his arms, however temporarily. Chrysanthemum was going well, lying in a good position near the front of the field. Everything was as right as it could be.
‘Just don’t bugger it up now,’ he muttered under his breath.
Fliss twisted her head round and raised an eyebrow.
Luke dropped an impulsive kiss on her temple then dragged his gaze back to the track. Three furlongs to go and Chrysanthemum was moving forward into second place.
‘He’s going to do it,’ Fliss shrieked. ‘He’s bloody well going to do it.’
Luke didn’t dare look away for a single moment. There was a grey colt coming up on the outside with a sudden spurt of speed. But Chrysanthemum was holding on, holding on, holding on…
As they passed the one furlong post, with just a couple of hundreds yards still to run, three horses were vying for the lead, matching each other step for step. A few yards further on and it was clear that the horse who’d been in the lead for most of the race was fading fast. That left just two in it: Chrysanthemum and the grey, Foxtrot Road.
