‘I’m Jenny, by the way.’
‘Ella.’
They shook hands in that very British, slightly awkward sort of way, and stood for a moment in a silence broken only by the rhythmic chomping of Sweetbriar, leaning over her stable door with a mouthful of hay.
‘So what brings you to Llanidaeron?’ Ella said, as Charlotte called out that she was taking Hope round to look over the gate at the horses in the bottom field. She did a thumbs-up of approval and turned to look at Jenny.
Jenny took a shallow breath, but nodded, her eyebrows raised slightly. She was balanced on the balls of her feet, as if ready to dash to Hope’s rescue. She was a woman on high alert. As they spoke, Ella watched her trying to look casual, but her nervous glances in the direction of the field were clear indications of her inward feelings.
‘She’d be at school at this time normally, but she’s on half days for her first week, just to get her used to it.’
‘Oh, so you’ve moved in permanently?’
‘Just for six months. We took a long-term holiday rent, because we all needed a change of scene. My husband is recuperating from a heart operation.’
‘Oh, my friend teaches at the school. Lissa Jones?’
Jenny shook her head.
‘She teaches the older kids, I think – Hope must be with one of the others. You’ll get to know her soon enough, though. The school is tiny.’
‘So what exactly is it that you do?’
Ella led her towards the little waiting room and handed over a printed leaflet.
‘It’s all in there. But basically the secret is that horses are an effective mirror, and they can help us to process our own emotions, and get over the blocks standing in our way.’
Jenny nodded slowly, still looking at the brochure. ‘And do you work with children?’
‘I can do, yes.’
‘Hope absolutely loves your horses. This is the most animated I’ve seen her in a long time. Her – my – we lost her mum when she was only very young, you see.’
‘Yes, she told me. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’
Ella noted that, instinctively. ‘Fine’, she thought – the word that raises flags with therapists everywhere. Usually a pretty good indicator that in fact everything is anything but.
‘And you feel that Hope’s struggling with her mum being gone?’
Jenny nodded again, vigorously this time. ‘Yes, definitely. She was struggling at school, refusing to go in, complaining of tummy aches and all sorts of mysterious ailments. And she tends to be quite – withdrawn.’
‘Well, we can certainly do some work, see what comes up.’
Jenny’s shoulders dropped in relief and she looked noticeably less tense.
‘I’d like that a lot. Yes. Yes, please.’
By the time Hope and Charlotte returned from the front of the farmhouse, where they’d stood watching the horses graze from the fence that divided the woefully untidy vegetable patch from the field, Ella had taken down Jenny’s details and made an appointment for an initial consultation. Jenny was just filling in the paperwork when Hope appeared at her side.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Just some forms and things. Ella says you can come up again on Friday, after school, and we can spend some time here, if you’d like?’
‘Yes!’ Hope’s face was wreathed in smiles and she nodded so hard that her hair flew back and forth.
‘Perfect.’ Jenny scribbled her signature and passed the clipboard and pen back to Ella. ‘We’ll see you at two.’ She turned to Hope. ‘Let’s get back to Harry and Grandpa.’
‘That was fast work,’ Charlotte teased, as the gate clanked shut behind Jenny and Hope.
‘Very funny.’ Ella shook her head. ‘Let’s get this lot sorted out early, and you can get off.’
Charlotte hesitated. ‘Dad’s not picking me up until six, though.’
‘Oh God, sorry. I forgot.’ Charlotte was doing such a good job, and working so hard, that Ella didn’t want to take advantage. ‘D’you want a lift? I could take you, if it’s easier.’
‘I’d rather stay, if you don’t mind.’
It wasn’t the first time Charlotte had lingered longer than strictly necessary. Left to her own devices, she’d curl up on the floor beside the Aga and read one of the countless equine textbooks Ella had accumulated over the years. Ella got the feeling that if she could make a little space in the corner of the kitchen, Charlotte would be quite happy to stay there permanently.
Chapter Seventeen
Harry
‘When are you leaving?’
Harry ducked under the beam and sat down on the bed beside Hope. She was flashing a projector torch beam against the wall, switching it on and off and on and off. She could do that for hours.
‘Tomorrow. After lunch.’
‘Good,’ said Hope, flashing the light on, then off.
Harry had tried to forget that a trip to sign the documents relating to his father’s estate was looming. On the plus side, the journey home would be filled with Holly’s chat about everything under the sun, from her obsession with celebrity gossip to the latest news on the US election results. Knowing she was coming back made it a bit more bearable. Plus, he thought, he’d have a bit of back-up with the Jenny situation. He’d returned from the supermarket the night before with a mountain of shopping to find Hope completely sky-high with excitement about visiting the horse lady. When he thought about it he felt a slight twitch of irritation that once again Jenny was doing what she thought was best, and he was sidelined.
He lay back on Hope’s bed and watched the lights flickering. He knew she didn’t mean good that he was leaving. It was good that she knew when. If she knew when things were happening, she could operate within those parameters quite comfortably. Hope liked to know when things were happening. It was one of the things that made her feel safe.
From the moment he’d seen the solemn eyes of Sarah’s baby girl that day, he’d felt like he was looking at an old soul. She had blinked and regarded him thoughtfully. He’d never felt comfortable speaking to her in baby talk, so he never had. From the earliest days, as soon as she could toddle, the two of them would go out walking together. He’d tell her the names of all the trees and the plants they discovered, and she soaked them up like a little sponge. He’d loved spending those days with her. Hope’s biological father, Mark, had hovered around the edges for a couple of years, popping up now and then, but showing no real desire to be part of Hope’s life. When they’d married, Sarah had asked if he’d be happy for Harry to adopt Hope. Mark hadn’t objected – something Harry found almost impossible to comprehend – and they’d settled down to an all-too-brief happy time together in their little town house in Norwich.
Now, at eight, Hope knew everything there was to know about the flora and fauna of the Norfolk woodlands, and he felt certain that if she was ever lost in Thetford Forest she’d be able to find her way back home. Not that he ever intended to try it out.
But she had a wandering habit, which was something they tried to keep on top of, with varying success. The doors in the house were always locked, and the windows. At night, if by chance someone forgot, the perpetually sleepless Hope would sneak off out the front door – not because she wanted to rebel, but because she wanted to examine a particularly interesting tree or piece of fungus she’d spotted when out for a walk that morning. Or any other morning – she had a memory that was astounding.
Moving here to Wales was supposed to have curtailed that, slightly – like moving a cat to new territory. They’d hoped that in unfamiliar surroundings, perhaps she’d want to stay close to home. Early indications suggested that no was the answer to that one. He wondered if maybe introducing her properly to the horse lady might curb her curiosity slightly, or at least manage it. He had to give it to Jenny, he acknowledged. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t get a foothold when it came to climbing the mountain of parenthood, but she seemed completely confident. It was hard
to find a way in around her certainty.
The next morning, before breakfast, Hope insisted Harry go with her to see the horses.
Harry lifted Hope up onto the gate so she could lean across, pointing to the grey mare who grazed warily out of reach. He gave a click of encouragement and pretended to rifle in his pocket for treats, and she lifted her head up and gave a low whicker.
‘How did you make her do that?’ Hope’s eyes widened with surprise and wonder as the mare ambled towards them, trying to act as if she wasn’t interested. She kept one ear flicked back, listening out for the rest of the herd.
‘Hello, beautiful,’ Harry said, putting a hand out for the horse to sniff.
‘Can I stroke her?’ Hope reached an excited hand out, and the mare snorted and took a step back, her long mane flying in the wind.
‘She’s a bit cautious, I think.’ Harry retracted his hand. ‘Let’s just watch them for a little while.’
He didn’t watch the horses. He watched Hope as she gazed at them, fascinated. After a while they headed back down through the empty field and over the gate that led into the tiny paddock that was the back garden of the cottage.
‘Now, you mustn’t go sneaking up there when we’re not looking, do you understand?’ Harry squatted down to Hope’s level and spoke very clearly and calmly.
‘Harry knows all about horses,’ Hope said a while later, as she ate a slice of toast.
‘Does he, dear?’ Jenny looked at him, surprised.
‘I used to help a – friend – with them, a long time ago.’
‘A friend?’ Jenny never missed a trick. She cocked an eyebrow at him as she tipped flour into a mixing bowl. ‘I’ll have to quiz Holly when she visits.’
‘Oh God,’ Harry shook his head dismissively. ‘It was long before I knew her.’
‘Of course. I forget sometimes that you two only became friends through Sarah. It’ll be lovely to see her.’
‘Even if she is gloating with satisfaction that I’ve taken some time off work.’ He turned to Hope. ‘Do you want to do some drawing afterwards?’
She’d shown him the picture she’d done of the horses in the field. It was good to see her expressing her artistic side – something a therapist had encouraged, Jenny said, after they’d spoken to her about Hope’s refusal to go to school.
‘Well,’ Jenny said, clearly trying not to look smug. ‘I’m glad you’ve decided to take some time away from work.’
‘It’s not time away.’ Harry looked across at her. ‘I’m working at home on Monday, and taking Fridays off. I’m just going to be around a bit more. Spend some time with Hope.’
‘Grandma always knows what she’s doing,’ Hope said unexpectedly in a solemn voice, which made them both laugh.
Chapter Eighteen
Jenny
‘I haven’t a clue what I’m doing,’ Jenny told Lou, as she gathered an armful of fleece gloves, scarves and a hat. Hope was refusing to put any of them on, and was standing in the hall waiting impatiently to go to the stables dressed in jeans and a bright pink My Little Pony T-shirt.
‘You’ll get cold, lovey,’ Lou said, carrying a hoody in one hand, opening the door with the other.
Jenny pressed her lips shut to keep a sigh of exasperation inside. There was absolutely no point trying to have this conversation, no matter how cold the November wind on the side of the hills. ‘It’s fine.’ She picked up the keys and added a cheerful lift to her voice. ‘We’ll drive up, won’t we, darling?’
Hope wasn’t paying attention. She was humming to herself, lost in her own thoughts.
‘You going to be OK?’ Lou put a hand to Jenny’s waist and turned her round, gently. She nodded, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the hall mirror. Goodness, she looked old. What she needed was a holiday.
It was Friday afternoon and Hope was itching to visit the horses. Up at the stables, Jenny was invited to take a seat at the side of the indoor school. There was an electric heater, which took the edge off the chill, and she was grateful to discover that while the chairs were hard and plastic, there was a heap of fleecy blankets to wrap around cold knees.
‘Here you go,’ said the helper – Charlotte, Jenny thought her name was. She passed over a mug of coffee from the machine in the little consulting room where they’d chatted for a while before Ella headed off with Hope.
Charlotte had vibrant pink hair and an alarming-looking piercing through her nose, but her face was kind, and she ducked her head in shy thanks when Jenny smiled in gratitude. ‘I’ll be outside if you need me.’
Jenny, left sitting alone in the echoing, barn-like space, wasn’t sure what she might need but thanked Charlotte anyway. She took a sip of coffee and looked around at the surroundings. This place couldn’t have come cheap – she didn’t know much about horses, but they looked expensive, and a building like this must have cost a fortune.
There was a rumble as the door slid open and a small grey pony trotted in, snorting loudly.
‘They’ll be through in a moment,’ Charlotte called, closing the door. Jenny tried to stay calm. There was a solid wooden barrier between her and the pony – it was small, and small horses were called ponies, she knew that much – but she felt distinctly alarmed and somehow responsible. She stayed in her seat and peered at it over the top of her coffee mug.
The pony gave another resounding snort and trotted to the opposite corner of the building, standing against the wall and looking at her with suspicious eyes through a thick thatch of hair.
‘Here we are,’ Ella’s voice was such a relief that Jenny sank back in her chair, exhaling audibly. A side door opened, and Ella and Hope stepped onto the soft surface of the indoor arena.
Over the next forty minutes, Jenny sat transfixed. She hadn’t really thought about what equine therapy would mean, practically speaking, and when Hope had been fitted with a riding hat she’d wondered if Ella was planning to teach her to ride after all. But the two of them sat on wooden blocks, chatting in the middle of the arena, and eventually the little pony wandered across to see them. It seemed to hover uncertainly for a while, and then eventually stood facing Hope, its head dropped down low. Jenny couldn’t hear the conversation that was going on between Hope and Ella, but they seemed happy enough. Eventually, Hope reached out a hand, and the pony seemed to sniff it, and then step closer. A few moments later Ella stood to one side while Hope leaned in, close against the long grey mane, and seemed to soften, as if the tension she habitually carried around had somehow been absorbed.
And then it was over. Jenny braced herself for tears, but Hope walked out quite happily. Jenny realized, as she stood up and folded the blanket neatly, putting it back on the pile, that Hope hadn’t looked over at her once. Maybe this really was going to make a difference.
‘Hello, Hope!’ Mr Taylor, her new teacher, seemed ridiculously young. He had dark hair gelled upwards in spikes and a round, open face. He squatted down to Hope’s level.
‘Lovely to see you again. Now, your grandma told me last week that you know all about fossils?’
Hope nodded, still holding her hand. Jenny could feel her little palm was clammy with sweat and anxiety. There was a moment’s pause.
‘What’s your favourite kind?’
‘I’ve got an ammonite in my bag.’ Hope lifted her schoolbag off her shoulder and made to unzip it.
‘Excellent.’ Mr Taylor looked up and gave Jenny the ghost of a wink. ‘Do you fancy telling me all about it in Show and Tell?’
‘Yes,’ Hope’s face lit up. ‘I found it on the beach when we went to Dorset. It’s called the Jurassic Coast because . . .’
Hope didn’t even look back. With the talent of a born teacher, Mr Taylor had whisked her into the classroom and Jenny was left standing, alone, outside in the empty playground. Maybe, she thought, this was going to work after all.
Chapter Nineteen
Ella
‘Christmas Fair?’ Jenny read the sign Ella was holding. ‘Already? It’s only Novem
ber!’
Ella had popped into the cafe to do a favour for Lissa after another training run. Pink-faced and still out of breath, she swiped at her damp forehead with the back of her hand.
‘I know. Apparently it’s to do with term dates or something. I think they’re planning to get it out of the way before December gets started. We’ll be celebrating new year in December at this rate. Can I pin this on the board, Connie?’
‘Course you can, love. Can I get you anything? Drink? Cold shower?’ Connie cackled with laughter at her own joke.
‘I’m fine. Need to get back to the yard, I’ve got more clients this evening.’
‘Can we come and see the horses again soon?’ Hope was dressed in a grey school pinafore with a green cardigan. She looked up from the picture she was colouring.
‘Next Friday,’ Jenny reminded her. Hope nodded, her ponytail swinging.
‘Muffin is looking forward to it.’ It was lovely to see Hope beaming at that. She’d had a second session already, and it was rewarding to see just how much of an effect it was having. There was a noticeable difference in the way the little girl carried herself – she looked less haunted around the eyes, and younger, somehow. Ella crouched down to look at the picture and was rewarded with a gap-toothed, shy smile.
‘How are you getting on with Mr Taylor?’
‘He’s nice. And he paired me up with Megan so I have someone to play with at break. It’s much nicer than my other school.’ She popped the lid off a yellow pen and started colouring intently, tongue between her teeth in concentration.
‘Hey, Ella,’ Connie called over from behind the counter. ‘Did you see you’re a cover girl?’ She winked at Jenny, including her in the joke. ‘Your fifteen minutes of fame.’
She approached with a copy of the Mid Wales Argus in her hands, and laid it flat on the empty table beside them.
‘Nice photo of you.’ Connie pointed. ‘That won’t do business any harm. Make sure you send them all down here for a coffee afterwards, won’t you? And don’t forget us when you’re famous.’
Finding Hope at Hillside Farm Page 15
