by Emma Davies
Eventually, Caroline got off her horse and led Samson over to a stone trough at the far end of the stable block which, with some help, Flora managed to stand on without falling in. From there, it was a short step up into the stirrup and a gentle swing of her leg over Samson’s back.
‘Easy-peasy,’ said Caroline.
To give him his due, Samson didn’t move a muscle throughout the whole shameful debacle, but Flora soon realised that this presented her with another huge problem. She had no idea how to make the horse go and, unaccustomed as she was to being not only so high up, but also seated on the back of a massive animal, she would have been perfectly happy if they had not moved at all.
Re-mounted on her own horse, Caroline doubled back to her and came alongside, scooping up the reins and making a clicking sound through her teeth that caused Samson to shift forward as she handed the reins to Flora.
‘You are a bit rusty, aren’t you?’ she said.
Flora stared at her. ‘Nope,’ she said. ‘Not rusty. Completely and utterly clueless…’
Caroline gave a slight glance back over her shoulder and leaned in a little closer. ‘But I thought you were kidding when you said you hadn’t ridden before,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
‘Caroline, why would I even make that up?’ Flora replied, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. ‘I honestly have never been on a horse before in my life.’
For a moment Flora thought that Caroline was just going to abandon the whole thing as a ridiculous idea, but then she gave Flora a warm smile. ‘But the girls have come over especially. I really wanted you to meet them, they’re such fun and well… otherwise, who are you going to make friends with?’
She had a point. Flora could already see that life on the farm wasn’t going to give rise to many opportunities for social outings. Ned worked too long hours and unless she wanted to go out by herself, which she didn’t, where would Flora meet anyone her own age? And besides, she was the stranger here, the townie without a clue, and Caroline was doing her best to help her fit in. She pulled the smile back onto her face. How hard could this be?
‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘I’m just a bit nervous… well, a lot nervous actually. But we’ve all got to start somewhere, haven’t we? And I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it if you just show me the ropes… or rather the reins…’ She lifted the leather straps and grinned. ‘I don’t even know how to hold these.’
Caroline showed her. ‘And as long as you don’t pull on them too hard, you’ll be fine. Samson will just trot along behind us and—’
‘Trot?’ squeaked Flora.
‘Sorry, a figure of speech… What I meant is that he’ll just follow us. We normally ride two abreast but I’ll ask the girls to ride together so that I can keep an eye on you. Just sit so you have a straight line through your ear, shoulder, hip and heels – don’t let your legs fly forwards or lean back; then just relax and let your body move with the horse. You’ll be fine.’
Flora tried to do as she was told but she felt anything but relaxed, and they weren’t even moving yet. She nodded at Caroline. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Let’s do this.’
The first hour was the worst… who was she kidding? At this rate she wouldn’t make it past the first ten minutes. Flora was hanging on for grim life and, despite a constant stream of chatter from Caroline and the others, she could scarcely take in what they were saying.
She concentrated on trying to go with the flow, letting her body move in time with Samson’s, but just when she thought she’d got the rhythm right, she would miss a beat and bump uncomfortably in the saddle.
‘Sorry, Caroline,’ she said. ‘I missed that. What did you say?’
They had just passed through a gateway into a field and the five of them were able to spread out a little.
‘I was just asking what your wedding plans were?’ she replied. ‘I asked Hannah, but I got the feeling she didn’t want to tell me, or she didn’t know…’
Flora risked a glance across at her. ‘No, well, Ned and I all happened so fast that we didn’t really have time to discuss anything before I came to the farm and now, what with Fraser, well… but we were thinking of sometime in the autumn, when things are a bit quieter, hopefully.’
Chloe was riding to her right. ‘Yes, that’s awful isn’t it, about poor Fraser. Oh, but it’s still exciting though. We haven’t had a wedding around here in ages. Not a proper one anyway. Mind you, you’ll need to get a move on. Won’t everywhere worth having be booked up? The Castle has a waiting list as long as your arm, but then I suppose if you’re not in any hurry, you could always make it next year, that way you’d get where you wanted.’ She gave Flora a searching look. ‘You’re not in any hurry, are you? You know…’ She patted her stomach suggestively.
‘God, no,’ spluttered Flora, blushing bright red. ‘Is that what everyone thinks?’
Chloe exchanged a look with the others. ‘No, I’m sure Caroline was just teasing when she said that, weren’t you? Although…’
‘Oh, take no notice, Flora,’ said Caroline. ‘Of course I was. Chloe’s just jealous because her fluttering eyelashes didn’t attract Ned’s attention. I think it’s very romantic having such a whirlwind romance.’
Flora returned her smile but wasn’t altogether sure how to take the girls’ comments. While it was true she and Ned hadn’t been together very long, they were both in their thirties and pretty sure of who they were and what they wanted from life. To her it didn’t feel whirlwind, it just felt right. Except that the conversation felt miles away from her life at the moment. She’d almost forgotten that she and Ned were meant to be getting married at all.
‘What’s this castle place you mentioned though, Chloe? It’s not an actual castle, is it? That sounds a bit grand for what we’d have in mind.’
‘Oh, it’s terribly grand, but that’s why you have to have it there of course. Anyone who’s anyone around here does. Its real name is Ravenswick Hall, and it’s a hotel, but it has a turreted tower at each end of the building so everyone calls it The Castle. My cousin had her wedding there last June, and oh my God…’
Flora shifted her weight cautiously, trying to find a more comfortable position. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be ‘anyone’ – she just wanted to be her.
‘Well, that’s one to bear in mind then. Thanks for the tip, Chloe. Obviously I’ll have to see what Ned would like, and Hannah and Fraser too. I rather get the feeling that Hannah might like to have the reception at home…’
‘No question about it,’ said Caroline, from her other side. ‘Which is all the more reason why you need to have somewhere in mind. Otherwise, if you don’t have an alternative ready when it comes time to decide, you’ll get stuck at the farm without you even realising it’s happened.’ She clicked her heels slightly against her horse’s side. ‘Come on, Flora,’ she said. ‘It’s too nice a day to dawdle and we’ll never get back in time for coffee at this rate.’
Flora felt Samson pick up his pace as Caroline pulled ahead of her, and she jostled uncomfortably in the saddle, trying to keep her balance.
‘Don’t go too fast,’ she cautioned, ‘or we’ll never get back at all.’
‘Oh, but you’re doing brilliantly!’ cried Emilie, moving from behind at a trot before slowing right down to walk alongside her. ‘You’re obviously a natural. We’ll have you cantering in no time, just you see.’
Flora gave her a nervous smile.
The conversation continued in fits and starts as the group made their way out of the field and onto a track which wound its way through a small wooded area before beginning to climb. Flora managed to join in with some of it, but she didn’t watch the television programmes they were discussing, or know the hairdresser’s in town which had just absolutely butchered Lucinda’s hair, and now that Samson was going uphill, she was pretty busy trying to master a slightly different technique for hanging on.
Fifteen minutes later however, she no longer cared as they crested the hill an
d the countryside opened up in front of her. It made every moment of the uncomfortable ride up there worthwhile. The land was still seasonally bare, but even in winter it couldn’t hide its majestic beauty; swathes of bright yellow gorse followed the line of one slope, while on another, a purple haze from the heather that grew there. More than anything she wished she could climb from her horse and immerse herself in it, but she knew it was a futile desire. No one around her even seemed to notice the glory that surrounded them, and so she consoled herself with the knowledge that she could always come back another day, on foot.
Even with the wind whistling around them, Flora would have liked to stay up on the ridge for longer, but within moments the party was on the move again, turning directly back down the hillside as they followed a path through the gorse. By necessity, the horses fell into line, each following the other and, for a moment, conversation became next to impossible. Suddenly there was a burst of movement from the head of the line and a peal of laughter rang out. Flora sensed what was going to happen but, before she had time to even think, she felt Samson’s muscles tense for a split second before they took off at speed, following the other horses. Catapulted forward, she just managed to cling onto the horse’s neck as they shot down the slope, her thighs slapping horribly against the leather of the saddle. And bit by bit, the peak of her hat began to slip down over her eyes, lower and lower, until she could no longer see.
She clung on for grim death, blinded, and with the sound of her blood rushing in her ears, until by some miracle they finally came to a stop. How on earth had she managed to stay on? She pushed the hat up from her eyes and a wave of embarrassment swept over her. The others looked so composed and relaxed and she suddenly realised that, despite what it had felt like, they had hardly been going at speed at all. A canter possibly, but more likely just a trot. She felt her cheeks begin to burn.
Caroline turned and rode back towards her. ‘Well, look at you! Well done! Sorry… Georgia’s horse took off. It’s what we normally do here and the others just followed her lead before I could stop them, but you did ever so well. Did you enjoy that?’
Flora’s heart lifted a little; perhaps it hadn’t been as bad as she had feared. But then it sank again even more rapidly. Caroline was simply trying to be kind, that was all.
She gave as bright a smile as she could muster and nodded, even though her heart was still racing and her shoulders beginning to ache.
From then on she gritted her teeth the whole way home and, just over an hour later, they arrived back beside the stable block. The girls slipped from their horses with practised ease, leaving Flora grappling with the tricky problem of how to dismount. In the end, the stable boy came to her rescue yet again.
Relieved to be back on solid ground at last, she looked around to see where the others had got to. They were huddled together a little distance away but, as Flora caught Georgia’s eye, the haughty smile on her face faded as she realised Flora was looking at her. She could tell from Caroline’s posture that whatever Georgia had said was hugely funny and, as Flora thanked the young stable boy for his help and walked towards them, she was struck by a sudden flash of insight. They were laughing at her.
Today wasn’t about helping her to acclimatise, or giving her the opportunity to learn to ride, and neither was it about making friends. Everything about today had been orchestrated; from making such a fuss about her clothes to the carefully engineered conversations designed to make her feel left out. The speedy descent of the hill was no accident either. Caroline knew she couldn’t ride and had shown her off to be the laughing stock she was. And worse, she had fallen for it. Taking their kindness and encouraging comments as genuine when in fact, as her chance catching of Georgia’s eye had revealed, they were nothing of the sort.
A wave of angry hurt washed over her, but without her own car she was at Caroline’s mercy for transport home, so it was another hour before she was finally able to reclaim her clothes, sit through the silence of the car ride back and slink through the door of the farmhouse. She would have collapsed in a chair and cried had her backside not been so sore.
Chapter Fifteen
Flora leaned back in her chair and looked around the room. She didn’t think she had ever been anywhere quite so soothing before. From the elegant colour palette of soft greens, powder blues and delicate pinks to the clean lines of the simple, unfussy furniture, everything was beautifully put together.
From the outside, Grace’s home appeared to be a rambling series of white-washed buildings glued together at different angles and heights, but once inside, some very clever artistic touches had made the most of the building’s originality and quirkiness and Flora had spent the first few minutes there staring around her in open-mouthed awe. It was worlds apart from the farm’s dark colours and heavy oak furniture, and there was something about it that spoke to Flora’s soul like an old friend.
Here, at last, was somewhere she didn’t feel out of place with her bright clothes and wild hair, and Grace’s warm welcome had already done much to dispel the memories of the morning’s intense cleaning. She could still smell bleach, despite the beautiful vase of heavily scented lilies that sat on the table in front of her. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling more relaxed than she had in days.
‘Here we go,’ said Grace, entering the room with a laden tray and heading for the table. ‘I found us some biscuits too. And you, if you don’t mind me saying so, look like you could do with some sugar.’
Flora pulled a face. ‘Is it that obvious?’ she said.
‘Only a little,’ replied Grace generously. ‘And don’t worry, I only know because I recognise the signs. Tough morning?’
‘You could say that. And I must apologise for the smell… It’s Eau de Dettol!’
Grace gave Flora an appraising glance. ‘First things first,’ she said. ‘How’s Fraser?’
‘A lot better than yesterday,’ answered Flora truthfully. ‘Which was absolutely awful. I think it scared us all, seeing Fraser so frail. Today, things seemed a little better.’
‘But?’
Flora smiled. ‘Again, is it that obvious?’
Grace didn’t reply but began to pour the tea before picking up a plate and offering Flora a biscuit. ‘Take two,’ she said. ‘Otherwise I shall be forced to eat them all myself.’
It was a moment or two more before Grace finished pouring and handed Flora a cup. She took one for herself and settled in a nearby armchair with her own mug.
‘So, let me guess, Hannah has now sterilised everything within a ten-mile radius of the farm and woe betide anyone who touches anything.’
‘How did you know? Did your bees pick up the scent of disinfectant on the wind?’
Grace laughed out loud. ‘No, don’t forget I know Hannah of old and it’s always been her reaction to a crisis. Clean everything to within an inch of its life. I can imagine how all this has sent her into overdrive.’
‘And some. We all have different ways of coping, I know that. And at least today Hannah is feeling more positive instead of taking to her bed, even if she has driven me absolutely mad. But if I thought my muscles were sore from riding, it’s nothing to what Hannah has put me through.’
‘So, you’ve been riding as well? Blimey, you poor thing. You have had a rough few days.’
Flora grimaced. ‘Yes, well I don’t think I’ll be going again, so that’s a relief. Not only was I spectacularly bad but… how can I put this…’
‘You don’t need to explain, Flora,’ interrupted Grace. ‘I can’t see how you and Caroline would ever really hit it off. Her friends are a rather particular kind of person and I’m pleased to say that you are not like them. Don’t forget that I’ve known her for years and she’s always been the same. Nice, pleasant enough, but… well, I don’t think I’m her kind of person either.’
‘Oh, thank the lord,’ said Flora. ‘I thought it was just me. Everyone else seems to think the sun shines out her…’ She rolled her eyes.
&nb
sp; ‘Now then,’ said Grace. ‘No more talk about Caroline, riding, Fraser, Hannah or Dettol – plenty of time for all that another day. I’m dying to see all these lovely prints you’ve brought with you, so come on, let’s have a look.’ She shuffled forward in her chair as Flora reached into the bag at her side.
‘I haven’t had a chance to finish the new ones I’ve been working on, but these will give you an idea.’
Flora handed over a folder stuffed full of her designs which had been put together over the last few years. She took a bite of her biscuit while she waited for Grace to flick through them. And then another as the minutes stretched out.
Grace didn’t say a word the entire time, but finally she reached the last piece and slowly closed the folder. Her expression was inscrutable.
‘How much do you charge for these?’ she asked, blinking.
‘Well, it depends. The original paintings usually around forty pounds and the prints fifteen. Greetings cards, postcards and the like, a lot less obviously.’
‘It’s not enough,’ said Grace bluntly. She pulled out an original illustration that Flora had subsequently made into a print. It was of a hare sitting in front of a hedge, grass and dandelion clocks at its feet and three fat blackberries on a stem above its head. ‘I would like this for myself,’ she said. ‘But I won’t pay you any less than one hundred and twenty pounds.’
Flora nearly choked on a biscuit crumb. ‘Grace, I can’t accept that!’
‘Why ever not?’ she replied levelly. ‘It’s worth easily that much.’
‘Because… because…’ Flora threw up her hand.
