New Boss at Birchfields

by Henrietta Reid

  She slipped behind the wheel and with a wave of her hand drove along the drive.

  As Briony moved away she saw Blane approaching, hands in pockets, staring thoughtfully at the ground. She quickened her steps, anxious to reach the tack room before he could waylay her. But it was as though he had anticipated this move.

  ‘Just a minute, Briony! I’ve something to say to you.’

  She stopped with a sigh, feeling tired and dispirited. He had not stopped her to heap her with words of praise, of that she felt sure. ‘Well, what have I done wrong now?’ she demanded, taking the bull by the horns.

  He frowned thoughtfully, pausing before answering—just long enough to make her feel vaguely uncomfortable.

  ‘I don’t intend to reproach you. As far as I could see the lesson went pretty satisfactorily.’

  ‘Pretty satisfactorily!’ she thought acidly. How typically grudging of the man. His eyes were meeting hers challengingly and she determined not to let herself become intimidated. ‘Well, you nearly always do find something wrong!’

  ‘Do I indeed?’ And to her surprise she thought she heard faint amusement in his voice. ‘What a temper we’re in! It seems to me that a hot cup of tea might improve the situation. But before you go—I’ve been watching that Sandra kid and I’ve decided that the best thing would be for you to tell her the next time she turns up that it’s all over. She’s nothing but a bad influence. Before we know where we are the rest of the urchins will be throwing tantrums. Yes, I’m afraid her daddy is wasting his money on that kid, and the sooner it’s brought home to him the better.’

  Briony stared at him in stupefaction. ‘You mean, you want me to tell her not to come again?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I mean.’

  ‘But why me?’ she asked, aghast.

  ‘Because you’re her teacher, of course. She’s one of your pupils, isn’t she? It’s obvious she’s never going to make a rider. And a dud like that won’t do the reputation of the Lennox Riding School any good. It’s clear her father is a man who thinks success is very important. As soon as he discovers how little Sandra has learned he’ll be sure to spread it about that the Lennox Riding School is not up to its job.’

  ‘But I couldn’t possibly tell Sandra not to return,’ she gasped.

  ‘And why not, may I ask? Don’t you agree that she’s making no real effort to learn?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ she said hotly. ‘Sandra’s main trouble is that she’s afraid. I told you that, but you don’t listen to me.’

  He gave a sigh of exasperation. ‘Don’t tell me you’re bringing up this donkey subject again!’

  ‘No! And I certainly don’t intend to,’ she told him. ‘All I hope for now is that she’ll become acclimatised and ease into things gradually.’

  ‘Well, she’s not going to acclimatise herself at my riding school,’ he told her bluntly. ‘I don’t believe in experiments of that sort! It’s time Sandra realised that we don’t want any little show-off around here. The sooner she clears off the better. So you’d better have a cup of tea and think over what I’ve said.’

  And before she could think of a suitable rejoinder, he turned on his heel and walked swiftly away.

  The manners of the man! Briony thought furiously as she went towards the tack room. So she was expected to do his dirty work for him! Well, she’d show him! So he thought she should have a nice cup of tea and think things over! It would take more than a cup of tea to extinguish the flaming temper she felt!

  She found Johnny putting on the kettle. He looked curiously at her for a moment. ‘Dear me, your cheeks are red—but nicely so,’ he added hastily.

  ‘Thanks,’ Briony said dryly. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me at all if I was purple in the face! That Blane Lennox is one of the most objectionable and rude people I’ve ever come across in my life!’

  He turned from the stove. ‘You mean he ticked you off?’

  ‘I should say so, and in no uncertain terms! Would you believe it, he wants me to get rid of Sandra!’

  ‘Well, she is a bit of a nuisance, isn’t she?’ he replied. ‘I mean, there’s no end to the mischief she can get up to when she’s in the mood.’

  ‘You sound as if you’re siding with him,’ she said angrily.

  ‘Well, Sandra’s not getting anywhere,’ he replied. ‘And she’ll only encourage the other children to get out of hand too, if she can get away with her nonsense. The fact is that Mr. Lennox is very fair. Oh, I admit he can be sharpish at times, but he’ll never tick you off in front of anyone else and make you feel small. And then he’s as straight as a die when it comes to business. I’ve never seen the smallest sign of crookedness in him.’

  ‘You’re certainly giving him a good character,’ Briony retorted acidly.

  Johnny reached down some mugs and began to butter some buns. ‘Why shouldn’t I? He’s always been decent enough to me. And once when a stallion threw me and injured me, he saw I had the best treatment. He used to visit me in hospital and drop in on my mum every time he passed the house.’

  Briony maintained a morose silence as Johnny poured boiling water into the teapot.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder, his freckled face split with a grin. ‘Here, have a bun and a nice strong mug of tea and you’ll feel better! In fact, I shouldn’t be surprised if you came to like the boss as time rolls by!’

  ‘Like him?’ she repeated disbelievingly. ‘I can’t stand the man. He’s completely unendurable. I simply loathe him,’ she declared emphatically.

  Johnny poured a mug of tea and offered her a plate of iced buns. ‘Well, all I can say is that you’re an exception. Most women fall for him hook, line and sinker. Not that he’s particularly handsome,’ he added with an air of impartiality.

  ‘I should say not!’ Briony returned. ‘And besides that, he’s one of the most unlikeable people I’ve ever come across!’

  ‘Well, Senga MacNeil doesn’t think that,’ Johnny told her with a sly look.

  ‘You mean she’s in love with him?’ Briony asked doubtfully.

  ‘Of course! Everyone knows that.’ Even Andy, and he’s not particularly observant.’

  ‘Who’s not particularly observant?’ Andy enquired as he wandered in and claimed his mug of tea.

  ‘You,’ Johnny told him. ‘I was telling Briony that even you spotted that Senga’s fallen for the boss.’

  ‘So she has,’ Andy agreed. ‘Anyone can see that.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Briony protested.

  ‘But you haven’t been here very long. Watch out and you can’t help spotting it.’

  ‘Then she must have rotten taste!’ Briony exclaimed.

  Andy chewed on a bun. ‘I imagine he’s got what’s called charm. And the ladies prefer that to good looks any day, if you ask me.’

  ‘Huh!’ Briony scoffed. ‘I just can’t believe that a wonderful girl like Senga MacNeil could fall for a man like him.’

  ‘Don’t let’s bother about him any more,’ Johnny pleaded. ‘What about coming down to the cafe for a cup of coffee this evening when we knock off? You can forget all about the boss for a while.’

  ‘That’s Johnny’s usual approach,’ Andy warned. “As soon as he sees a pretty girl he invites her to coffee and cream cakes and expects her to fall into his arms.’

  ‘I’ll settle for coffee and cream cakes,’ Briony said, laughing.

  ‘Good! Give me time to change into my best bib and tucker and I’ll meet you outside Amulree Cottage,’ Johnny told her.

  The thought of having some time off that evening made Briony’s spirits rise. Often Hettie would wear a faintly disapproving expression, showing Briony that she was resentful that she was working for her arch enemy. Sometimes Briony would go to her room early to avoid her godmother’s silent disapproval.

  But that evening when she had changed into a floral-patterned dress she found Johnny waiting for her, his face eager and shining from a generous application of soap and water.

  He glanced at her in o
pen admiration. ‘You look even prettier in that dress! Don’t ever wear jeans again.’

  She laughed as she accompanied him along the village street. ‘I can just imagine what I’d look like after mucking out a stable!’

  Still, she had to admit to herself that young and immature as Johnny was, there was something very gratifying about his open boyish admiration. It would be hard to imagine Blane Lennox even handing out such compliments. She giggled at the very idea.

  ‘Here we are!’ Johnny remarked as they came to an attractive-looking cottage with ‘Teas’ written outside in large letters. They went in through the invitingly open door to find themselves in a large room spotlessly clean and humming with the buzz of holidaymakers.

  Johnny ordered importantly. ‘The cream cakes are really super here,’ he told her. ‘I can especially recommend the éclairs. By the way, I’ve got a secret about the boss!’ As the cream cakes arrived he leaned over conspiratorially. ‘But you must swear not to let him know I told you.’

  Briony opened her eyes wide, anticipating some particularly interesting piece of gossip.

  ‘You’ll never guess what he’s going to do!’

  She shook her head, mystified.

  ‘It seems a local farmer is advertising a donkey for sale and he’s sending me along tomorrow to collect it. I wonder what on earth he wants it for. It’s not a bit like him, you know. A donkey would be about the last thing in the world I could imagine him keeping at Birchfields. But remember, don’t say I told you, because he hates being talked about.’

  ‘I shan’t tell him,’ Briony promised with a thrill of excitement. ‘Could it be that, after all, he had backed down and actually decided that a donkey could be the answer to Sandra’s problems! But when she considered it, she dismissed the idea from her mind. Only that afternoon he had asked her to tell Sandra not to return for further lessons. No, he must be purchasing it for a friend perhaps, who would collect it later. In the meantime he would permit it to graze at Birchfields.

  She gave a little sigh. To expect Blane to capitulate was simply wishful thinking. He was not the sort of man to be deflected from a course once he had made up his mind.

  ‘Here, have another cake.’ Johnny proffered the plate. ‘You’re looking down in the dumps again! Why don’t you put the boss and his ways out of your mind and enjoy yourself?’

  Johnny’s advice was good, Briony told herself. All the same, Blane Lennox was not a man whom it was easy to dismiss from one’s thoughts.

  Before they parted Johnny told her that the donkey was to be collected within the next few days. The arrangement was that he was to take it to the Riding School in a horse box from the hill farm.

  A few mornings later when Senga drove into the yard in the station-wagon she brought with her not only the usual crowd of excited young children, but also Sandra, and as Briony saw her get out her spirits sank. Sandra would have to be told that she was no longer welcome. If only she could put it off, she thought desperately. But Blane had fixed her with a steady gaze which carried the unmistakable message that he was waiting for her to carry out his instructions.

  Reluctantly she approached Sandra, who was again showing signs that she intended to spend her lesson time perched on the rails watching the younger children.

  Briony moved slowly, dragging her feet, and was near Sandra when Blane overtook her. She turned. ‘It’s all right,’ she told him coldly. ‘I’m going to tell the kid you don’t want her.’

  He led her back a little. ‘Not so fast, young woman,’ he said brusquely. ‘You’ll find a donkey in the end stable. And now it’s up to you. The kid can make a kirk or a mill of it, just as she pleases.’

  When Briony told Sandra the news, the child followed her excitedly, followed by a chattering group of the younger children. Even the sophisticated Senga joined the procession.

  When they reached the stable Briony unbolted the door and a shaft of sunlight lit up the interior. For a moment there was a silence followed by delighted admiration, for standing in the fresh straw was a blue-grey donkey with a thick rich coat and a quaint long-lashed look that was completely irresistible.

  ‘Why, he’s just like a dear little teddy-bear!’ exclaimed Sandra excitedly, as she unbolted the lower half of the door and rushing in flung her arms around its neck. ‘He’s so soft, he’s just like velvet. How I’d love to ride him!’

  ‘That’s what he’s here for,’ Briony told her smilingly. ‘Mr. Lennox bought him so that you could learn to ride without feeling frightened.’

  ‘Oh, how I love him!’ Sandra exclaimed. And Briony was stunned to see that her face, lit by enthusiasm, had lost its sullen hangdog look.

  ‘Yes, it is a pretty little thing,’ Senga’s cool voice could be heard saying. ‘But really, dear, don’t you think you’re just a little bit too grown-up for that sort of thing? When I rode donkeys it was at the seaside, and I was only a tot. I mean, you don’t want people to laugh at you, do you?’ Briony listened in incredulous silence. Sandra’s face had fallen and her brows were knitting ominously. ‘No, I suppose people would laugh at me. All the same, it is a dear little donkey.’

  Why had Senga been so contemptuous and cutting in her remarks? Briony wondered. And for a moment the thought crossed her mind that it had been done deliberately. Senga didn’t want Sandra to be successful. And if Sandra refused to ride the little animal it would quickly be sold. It was not Blane’s practice to keep useless pets, of that she felt sure.

  ‘Come along, children!’ Senga commanded, her voice high and authoritative. ‘It’s time Miss Walton gave you your lessons.’ She clapped her hands to ensure attention and then led the way back to the yard.

  The children followed her, with the exception of Sandra, who stood rooted to the spot looking disconsolate.

  ‘Miss MacNeil is right, I suppose, but I would dearly like to have him for my very own.’

  ‘You could, you know,’ Briony told her bracingly. ‘I told you how grown-ups ride donkeys abroad. When I was in Greece for my holidays I often saw grown-up women riding along on donkeys. They’re very strong, you know, and besides a human being they can carry baskets as well. You mustn’t feel that you’re doing anything extraordinary.’

  Sandra looked at her doubtfully. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  ‘Well, if you say so, I’ll have a go!’

  ‘That’s a good idea. And even if you do slide off the ground’s very near,’ Briony told her with a smile.

  ‘That’s true,’ Sandra agreed happily, and flung her arms around Briony’s neck and kissed her swiftly on the cheek.

  CHAPTER SIX

  During the weeks that followed the arrival of the donkey Briony noticed a distinct change in Sandra’s attitude towards her riding lessons.

  First of all there was the excitement of choosing a name for the latest acquisition to the Birchfields stables. Briony found herself constantly being waylaid by Sandra, who had thought up the most bizarre suggestions. But, much to Briony’s relief, she finally decided that ‘Teddy’ would be the most suitable name.

  Now when the station-wagon arrived from Laureston School Sandra was the first to bounce out. She no longer showed scornful rejection of her young companions, but hurried to saddle Teddy, who would be watching eagerly, his furry ears twitching, as soon as he heard the car drive into the stable yard. Now, instead of taking her perch on the paddock rails and frowningly watching the other pupils on their ponies as they circled Briony, Sandra actually joined in, listening attentively as Briony called out her instructions.

  Briony tried to stimulate Sandra’s interest by giving her special attention at the end of each lesson. One morning, when the other pupils had returned to the stable yard and only Sandra on Teddy was left in the paddock, she felt a little glow of satisfaction as she saw how greatly improved Sandra was. This was followed by a surge of triumph as she spotted Blane approaching on his magnificent black Hanoverian horse. He sat his mount magnificently, she not
iced—like a warrior from ancient times.

  ‘Well, are you satisfied?’ There was a little ironic quirk at the corner of his jutting lower lip, as he reined in beside her.

  ‘Satisfied?’ she queried with assumed puzzlement. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean!’

  ‘Oh, you mean about Teddy?’

  He raised his eyebrows enquiringly. ‘Teddy? Is that what Sandra calls the moke?’

  ‘Yes, she gave him a name right away, and I think that’s a good sign. She seems happy enough. But there’s one thing I don’t understand.’

  ‘And what may that be?’

  ‘You sounded so adamant about not having a donkey at Birchfields, and I don’t think you’re the kind of man who changes his mind, so naturally I’m surprised that you’ve given way, when—’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself!’ he broke in. ‘I didn’t succumb to your wheedlings, if that’s what you think. It just so happened that a farmer friend of mine wants to buy a donkey for his children. At the moment they’re rather too young to ride it, so when I heard there was one for sale I told him I might be able to use it here at the Riding School for a while and let him have it later. You see, it occurred to me I might as well put your theories to the test. At the moment you seem to be succeeding. All the same, I shouldn’t be too optimistic if I were you! It may be the novelty of the thing that appeals to the child at the moment. No doubt when she becomes bored she’ll throw the poor old moke over.’

  Briony shook her head. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said confidently. ‘I’m perfectly certain she’s on the right lines.’

  Blane looked at her mockingly for a long moment. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re extremely self-opinionated?’