Well Groomed

by Fiona Walker

  ‘Penny should come out now.’ She closed her eyes as he lumbered up to the final combination.

  ‘I’ll get her.’ Kirsty raced off, still staring over her shoulder to watch Vic clear the last three fences with ease, receiving a great roar of applause and slowing to a walk the moment he was through the timer beam. He had been at the game long enough to know what was needed and to offer absolutely no more.

  As Gus rode out and the second-placed New Zealander rode in, the Lime Tree mob went mad. Julia’s camera team, lurking nearby, got a long, lingering shot of Gus jumping off Vic and hugging everyone in sight, including two strangers and Captain Mark Phillips, who took it in very good part. Then like an athlete spotting the tape, Penny raced forward shrieking like a banshee and jumped right into Gus’s arms, her legs straddling him as she covered his face with kisses.

  Soon afterwards tens of hands were patting Gus on the back. He was such a popular figure in the sport that his success touched everyone who knew of Lime Tree Farm’s terrible recent financial struggles. He was congratulated so much, it was almost as though he had won the championships overall.

  ‘Well done! I’m so chuffed for you.’ Tash gave them both a massive hug, backing off as Julia Ditton hoved in with her mike.

  Her eyes immediately started scouring the collecting ring for Hugo, but India was still walking the bit-snatching, spooking Snob around and looking increasingly anxious herself. With only one round before his, Hugo was leaving it ludicrously late – especially on a hot-head like Snob who needed to be settled. She wondered if he was somehow doing it to punish her for the way she had behaved the night before. Yet she knew how badly he wanted the Badminton title, how frustratingly it had eluded him all these years. He was within a hair’s breadth of snatching it at last and he had done a bunk. She chewed her knuckles in agitation.

  Having said ‘great’ a lot to Julia Ditton, Gus joined Tash and turned back to gaze into the ring as the buzzer went for the New Zealander to start.

  ‘No sign of Hugo?’

  Shaking her head, she watched India riding Snob towards them, her pretty face pale with worry. ‘I’ve asked around – no one’s seen him for ages.’

  ‘Did he say where he was going?’ asked Tash as India jumped off.

  She shrugged. ‘Something about ringing a friend. God knows who. They’ve put out a call for him around the grounds, but it’s getting desperate. If he doesn’t turn up soon, he’ll forfeit the championships.’

  Again, Tash gazed around the collecting ring where the horses that had already jumped were being led around to await the prize-giving ceremony, rugs slung over their saddles and coats slung over their riders’ shoulders. Hugo was nowhere to be seen.

  The New Zealander was halfway around the course now, and had already kicked a pole from an upright for five penalties. If she had another fence down, she would drop behind Gus and Brian to fourth.

  With the sportsmanship of true professionals, Gus and Brian were standing side-by-side, watching anxiously and sharing a cigarette. They were far too good friends and far too nervous about the final result to let sponsorship rivalry get in the way.

  ‘Someone had to win the deal.’ Brian shrugged rather bleakly, his battered face still watching the New Zealander. ‘It was a bastard thing of them to do – setting us up against one another like that.’

  ‘How’s Babe Magnet?’ Gus, tugging on his cigarette, asked after Brian’s young horse that had been injured the day before.

  He laughed. ‘Vet reckons he’ll still be able to event – he only ever had one eye on the fences anyway.’

  Gus grinned and gave him a huge pat on the back which was caught on camera as they flashed between the action in the ring and that just outside. The television crew was now aware that the overnight leader had gone AWOL, and great excitement was going on around Julia Ditton in the collecting ring as she prepared to go on air live the moment the New Zealander’s round was over.

  To a hearty round of applause, she came out on five penalties with her second place still intact and was swallowed into the whooping bosom of her back-up team and fellow competitors.

  Standing nearby, Julia gazed into the camera and started to talk in a breathy, excited voice.

  ‘Well, the latest news is that Hugo Beauchamp has still not reappeared and the officials are giving him ten more minutes to materialise or he forfeits his chance to compete for the trophy, and Kerry Maguire will automatically be elevated to first place. As you can imagine there is terrific excitement and speculation around here as the other competitors – and his own increasingly desperate team – wonder what could have happened to one of Britain’s top riders to make him go missing like this.’ As she spoke, she was edging closer to Tash who was edging rapidly away.

  From behind the stands, Hugo’s head groom, Jenny, came racing up wearing an identical hat to Tash’s, her face bright red from the exertion of running to the yard, the lorry park and then back again.

  ‘No sign!’ she panted, sliding to a halt in front of Gus and Stefan. ‘No one’s seen him.’

  India was leading around Snob who was looking increasingly put out as he realised he had somehow missed out on a vital piece of the action. As they walked past the camera crew, the scurfy camera-man panned a shot of him with his ears flat and head bobbing. The next moment he had turned to lunge at the sound recordist’s furry mike, taking a large chunk out of it.

  ‘Tempers are clearly starting to flare here.’ Julia talked to camera.

  Dashing into the collecting ring behind her was Paul the Pringle-wearing producer who had just come from the commentary box and was looking highly put out. He marched straight up to Tash.

  ‘Is your fucking boyfriend turning up or not, because we’re supposed to be going to the rugby now.’

  ‘In that case I’d better press on,’ said a smooth voice. ‘I’ve set my video to record the match at Twickenham, so I’d be bloody furious if it started late.’

  ‘Hugo!’ Tash spun around to see him walking leisurely up to them, buttoning his red jacket as he came, cheeks high with colour from a recent sprint. ‘Where on earth have you been? They’re waiting for you.’

  ‘Just phoning an old groom for advice.’ He checked Snob’s girths and nodded to India to hold his head while he hopped on. ‘A leg up would be appreciated.’

  Tash grabbed his waggling boot in shocked silence, watching as he swung into the saddle and found his other stirrup, his thigh now level with her eyes. It took all her strength not to reach out and touch it.

  ‘Wish me luck,’ he murmured as two course hands pulled back the rope at the entrance to the arena.

  ‘Good luck,’ she said bleakly.

  ‘I didn’t mean like that. Nice hat, by the way.’

  For a moment their eyes met and he smiled such an open, genuine, carefree smile that Tash almost fell over backwards. Then, as he rode towards the arena, Snob’s head swung around and, teeth bared, he lunged at her hat, neatly removing it and carrying it in with him to the crowd’s shrieking delight.

  He deserves to knock down every jump for this, Tash thought darkly, grinding her teeth. How dare he be so nonchalant and glib! Snob would be all over the place after such lousy preparation, his concentration in ruins.

  As she suspected, Snob was shaking his head like crazy and dancing around in a maddened tango through nerves and impatience to be at the fences, hat flapping from his teeth so that he resembled a rabid big cat with a recent cull. In this state he would plough every one, Tash realised in despair. To the crowd’s even greater amusement, Hugo waited until he had stopped to salute the judges before leaning forward on his stirrups and gently tugging Tash’s mangled hat out of his mount’s mouth then hooking it on a wing upright.

  ‘Bloody exhibitionist!’ she groaned, waiting for Snob to explode out on to the course like a dust-devil in a hurry the moment the bell rang.

  But instead of heading straight through the start, Hugo took his time, cantering the big chestnut around in wide ci
rcles to calm him, his hands so still he could be carrying an egg and spoon, his legs barely shifting as he waited for the edgy, darting stride to move down a gear and engage all four legs before getting underway. His mouth was moving all the time as he rode.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Gus exclaimed in astonishment. ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever known him talk to a horse. I think he’s been around the back of his lorry shooting up drugs.’

  ‘He hasn’t – I’d’ve seen him,’ Jenny panted earnestly.

  ‘He’ll be disqualified for leaving it too long to go through the start,’ Penny fretted, grabbing Tash’s hand first, then India’s. ‘The bell went ages ago.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ India winced as her hand was suddenly gripped in her aunt’s. ‘He’s on his way.’

  Tash wasn’t sure if she breathed at all as Hugo and Snob went around the course, but she certainly left the ground every time they did, jumping on the spot at each fence as though skipping, her face frozen in total fear. She didn’t even notice the roving collecting ring camera focusing on her, its red light flashing on and off as the round progressed. Nor did she hear Penny squeal when she tightened her grip to a clamp on her hand as the combination approached the last line, Snob’s powerful hind legs collected underneath him like spring boards. Hugo had him superbly collected, but he was fighting all the way there, face clenched with effort. Unable to watch, Tash closed her eyes and braced herself for a communal groan from the crowd. Instead there was a slight rattle, then another, but no hollow bouncing of poles. Seconds later, a tumultuous amount of yelling and cheering all around was splitting her eardrums and she opened her eyes to see Penny smiling at her through streams of tears.

  ‘He’s won, Tash,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘He’s got the Championship. Now will you let go of my hand, only I think you’ve broken my thumb.’

  As Hugo rode out of the ring, Tash was being squashed from all sides as she was hugged and kissed as though she had ridden to victory herself. But she knew that she could never have ridden that round. She wouldn’t have had the nerve to take time out to settle him like that – her head, legs and hands would have gone to pieces.

  ‘You made him, Tash.’ Gus gave her a hug. ‘You worked and worked to get that chestnut thug here, and that bloody counts. Believe me, that counts.’ For the first time since she’d known him, he gave her a huge kiss on the mouth. ‘I’m bloody proud of you.’ That was a first, too. She almost broke down.

  Backing away in a daze, she tried to fight her way towards Snob and Hugo, but now that they had won it was like trying to get to the front of a rock concert.

  When Hugo jumped off, there were at least ten people between them including Julia Ditton, desperate for a few seconds of interview before they were cut from live transmission in favour of the rugby. He ignored them all and, giving Snob a brief pat, handed him over to Jenny and shouldered his way towards Tash, face triumphant. Pulling the chin protector from his crash hat with a gloved hand, he dragged it from his head and shook his hair, face dancing with laughter.

  ‘That horse is something else,’ he whistled as he stopped in front of her. ‘And it’s all your doing, darling.’

  Tash gazed at him, her mouth unable to do anything but smile. She kept trying to look serious and sincere as she had intended, but the smile twanged back as though on elastic.

  ‘Congratulations,’ she laughed. ‘You were utterly, utterly brilliant.’ She longed to add, And I love you, but bit it back with all her might, knowing that to say it would be to open more cans of worms than an angler trying for a world record. Doing that in public – on national television – would be kicking poor, cornered Niall so hard in the teeth that his fillings would end up stapling his stomach. She had to wait until she could tackle Hugo in private, but was so overexcited that she wanted to rugby tackle him into a private room right this second.

  Hugo was watching her with a look of such ebullient glee that she found her eyes getting hopelessly lost in his and not wanting to find their way out.

  ‘You seem to have a new car,’ he said smoothly. ‘So I was rather wondering if you could give me a lift back to Berkshire this evening?’

  ‘It’s your car,’ she gulped. ‘You won.’

  ‘I know, but I can’t bear to see you polluting the countryside in that French banger any longer.’ He was already being dragged away by Julia.

  Now that, Tash realised, was just the sort of private vroom she needed to rugby tackle him in.

  Watching the royal prize-giving twenty minutes later, Tash clapped until her hands were buzzing. Beside her, Penny was weeping buckets. It was the first time Tash had ever known her to cry. She kept claiming it was the pain in her thumb, but Tash thought it had more to do with Gus’s longed-for victory and the financial boost it was going to give the farm’s ailing bank account.

  ‘I’m so proud of him!’ Penny sobbed, staring through her tears as Gus shook the hand of the Princess Royal. ‘I hardly ever tell the disagreeable bugger how much I love him but I think I will tonight.’

  ‘Me too,’ Tash laughed, thinking of how many Polos she would stuff Snob with later.

  ‘’Bout time too.’ Penny turned to her. ‘You’re the only person who hasn’t told Hugo how much in love with him you are this week. The rest of us have been like cracked records.’

  Forty-One

  * * *

  THEY WERE ALMOST AT Marlbury by the time Tash plucked up courage. Hugo, who had been swigging from a bottle of champagne throughout, was playing with some of the high-tech dials on the dashboard of the new Mitsubishi that was part of the first prize and alternately blasting Tash’s face with hot and cool air. He was in a hyper-excited mood but had said little except politely to suggest that she change gears when she had done a continuous thirty in second for several miles. Tash was finding the huge new car very hard to adjust to after the wrecks she was used to driving, especially in her current state of nerves.

  She pulled up in a lay-by and groped around to turn off the CD player, blasting the volume up to full and shifting the balance around the speakers before she finally silenced it.

  ‘Hugo, I love you,’ she said, so quickly that she wondered at first if he had heard her.

  There was a long pause as he stared at his champagne bottle and then tossed it out of the window before tilting his head to look at her.

  His eyes glinted as they studied her face, the black pupils almost drowning out the cobalt blue. As ever, his expression was unreadable.

  ‘Nicely put,’ he finally said.

  A car swept past the lay-by, shaking the new Mitsubishi in its slip-stream and sending up a great splash of water from the road which whipped the windscreen before starting to slide away, leaving a snail’s trail of dripping dirt. Tash watched its progress and licked her lips nervously.

  ‘Just thought I’d say it.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  There was another long pause. She fiddled with the ignition keys. She had never felt so disappointed in her life.

  ‘Right then.’ She slotted them in and started the engine. ‘We’d better get you to this party Lisette’s hosting. I’m sure you two have a lot to chat about.’

  Hugo leaned slowly across her and cut the engine, pocketing the keys before leaning back in his seat again.

  ‘Is that all I’m getting?’ he muttered.

  Tash’s libido was all over the place as a result of his leaning across her. She had been certain that he was about to ravish her and had been all geared up to ravish him in return. Now they were back to square one and her heart thudded into its resting place in her chest like a cricket ball landing in the wicket keeper’s glove.

  ‘What more did you expect?’

  Another car splashed past as he lit a cigarette.

  ‘Well, if you’re asking for a date, I’d expect a bit more than a window in your dowry,’ he sighed, clicking his lighter shut, his hands shaking. ‘Unless you’ve forgotten, you’re rather booked up this week. For a start you’ve got a twe
lve o’clock appointment pencilled in to marry Niall O’Shaughnessy next Saturday.’

  ‘Yes. Well, it’s all a bit of a mess.’

  ‘So I gather.’ He took a deep drag and turned to look at her.

  ‘But I’m not really marrying him,’ Tash said encouragingly. ‘Just pretending to.’

  ‘How original. The bride wore white lies.’ He seemed remarkably unsurprised by the news and extremely on edge, eyes still searching hers as though there was an iridologist’s treasure map written on them. ‘I suppose you’re waiting until there’s a total eclipse of the honeymoon to tell your family?’

  ‘Oh, God, I’ve made such a terrible hash of things,’ she groaned, sagging back in the seat.

  ‘I know that.’ He looked away, the end of his cigarette glowing like a warning light as he took another sharp drag.

  ‘You do?’ She was finding his reaction to her dramatic pronouncement of love not at all encouraging.

  ‘Tell me,’ he gazed out of the windscreen, eyes narrowing as though squinting into sunlight, ‘have you decided to come out with this now because you really do love me, or just because Niall’s rejected you and gone off with Zoe Goldsmith?’

  ‘Niall didn’t reject me!’ she wailed, pride flaring. ‘We rejected each other. This wedding was a ludicrous idea in the first place. It’s been like some sort of bad dream for months, with neither of us wanting to go through with it. Our relationship was never strong enough for marriage. It wasn’t even strong enough for us to live together. How could it be when I was hopelessly hooked on you throughout?’

  Hugo chewed his thumb, still staring through the windscreen as though fascinated by the graffiti-emblazoned road sign ahead, its wording obscured by thick black spray-paint contesting a proposed by-pass.

  Catching up on their head start now, the Lime Tree Farm lorry suddenly drove past in a cloud of spray, making the new car rock from side to side in its slip-stream. Not recognising the new Mitsubishi, Ted – who was driving – didn’t even hoot. Tash watched its tailgate disappearing, the new Mogo motif on the ramp already coated with mud.