Finding Hope at Hillside Farm

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Finding Hope at Hillside Farm Page 30

by Rachael Lucas


  ‘You should be bloody doing this,’ she laughed, breathlessly.

  ‘Next year. I’ll let you two try the course out first.’

  ‘Cocky bastard,’ said Lissa, through gritted teeth. They’d turned up the hill through the woods.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Lissa slowed down as the gradient started to hit.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Fine.’ She sounded puffed but kept up her pace.

  Before they knew it, they’d done the full circuit and were heading round past the old market hall to the finish line.

  ‘Go on, Lissa,’ shouted a voice from the sidelines. Ella turned, seeing the bearded face of James. Lissa blew him a kiss and turned to Ella, eyes wide. ‘Oh my God.’

  ‘What is it?’ It was sweet that he’d come out to cheer her on – not least because, the village being what it was, it meant everyone would know about their budding relationship by sundown.

  ‘I look like a sweating tomato.’

  ‘Shut up.’

  They crossed the finish line together, holding hands raised in triumph.

  ‘Not bad for someone who swore they’d never run unless they were being chased by a bear.’ Lissa took one of the cups of water offered and poured it over her head. She reached out and downed the contents of a second cup.

  ‘I only did it for the gin,’ said Ella, laughing. ‘You did say there was gin at the end, didn’t you?’

  ‘I’ll buy you one tonight. A double. You bloody deserve it.’

  ‘You both do.’ Harry’s voice made her startle. She turned around to see him standing there holding Hope’s hand.

  ‘We came to watch you running,’ said Hope, raising both hands in a cheer.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ said Ella, looking down. ‘Where have your crutches gone?’

  Hope waggled her leg. Her cast was now topped off with a black protective boot. ‘They said I could have this instead so I can walk, and I don’t have to keep the crutches.’

  ‘Really?’

  Harry nodded, dropping a protective hand onto Hope’s shoulder. ‘Apparently putting weight on it helps with recovery. I’m having to remind someone that doesn’t mean she can run a marathon in the first week, though.’

  ‘Hey,’ said Lissa, turning round. ‘Look at you, Hope. Nice boot.’

  Hope ducked her head and blushed. ‘Thank you, Miss Jones.’

  Harry suppressed a laugh. ‘I saw you had a cheering squad out on the course today.’

  ‘Shh,’ said Ella, giving him a look and trying not to giggle. ‘They worked Very Hard on that banner.’

  Lissa slid a look at Ella and her eyebrows curved upwards for a brief second.

  ‘Nice to see you again, Harry.’ Lissa tugged Ella by the hand. ‘See you at school after half term, Hope. We’d better go and collect our medals.’

  Chapter Forty-three

  Harry

  When Harry offered to walk down to the village that evening and pick up a couple of things from the shop, the sky was clear, the light fading away. It was peaceful walking down the lane in the dusk, the air echoing with birdsong from the hedgerows that towered above his head on both sides. It was like walking down a tunnel, from which he’d emerge, cross the stone bridge, and then turn right and head down into town. A cyclist – headlamp flashing – nodded briefly as she turned her bike up the lane, the sound of her gears crunching as she braced herself for the long climb towards Penruthin.

  The window of the little bookshop was lit dimly and he paused for a moment to look in, remembering the first day out when he’d taken Hope shopping for books. Everyone had been quiet over dinner tonight, and he’d wondered if it was for the same reasons. Neither Jenny nor Lou had seemed surprised to hear that he’d decided to give up work and have a bit of a break to spend some time with Hope. He’d noticed a brief exchange of glances between them, but he didn’t push it. Jenny had simply said – stacking the dishwasher afterwards – that they needed to have a talk about what was going to happen now. She’d made it clear from the start that if it was up to her, they’d keep the cottage on for another six months. And Lou had surprised them all by putting down roots and finding himself a place in village life – although, when Harry thought back to his long career, it wasn’t really a surprise that he’d done so. Hope was desperate to stay where her beloved Muffin was, and where she could help out at the stables and be around Charlotte, who she idolized.

  ‘The ball’s in your court, lad,’ Lou had said, half-joking. But it was true that the only thing stopping them was him. Could he settle down here, knowing Ella was half a mile away, living her life? She’d seemed keen to rush off after the run – with her teacher friend obviously in on the joke.

  They’d got on well before the mix-up at the farm sale, when someone had mistaken them for a couple. Maybe they could find their way back to that, if nothing else.

  ‘So d’you think we make a nice couple?’

  Lissa beamed across the table at Ella. She was trying her hardest to keep her hands to herself, but it was clear that she and James were made for each other, and the spark between them wasn’t going to be extinguished by polite conversation over curry at the Lion Inn. The plan had been that they’d have a late lunch to celebrate finishing the run, but when they’d bumped into James and he’d somehow ended up joining them, lunch had somehow trailed into dinner, and Ella had immediately started thinking of excuses to leave. She had deliberately dawdled slowly back to the table after popping to the loo, and even so she’d returned to find them with eyes locked in a gaze, hands entwined, murmuring to each other.

  She scratched her head. There had to be a way to make an excuse and leave – but Lissa knew her too well for any lines about horses having colic, or sudden text messages.

  James went to the gents and Lissa sprawled across the table, starry-eyed.

  ‘Isn’t he lovely?’

  Ella laughed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And he’s really funny and sweet, too.’

  She nodded. ‘And kind. And most importantly –’

  They both said in unison, ‘He’s not a dickhead.’

  Lissa blew upwards, so a tendril of dark curly hair lifted, then fell back down on her forehead.

  ‘He is not a dick. He’s a genuinely nice man. And a nice dad. My God, I’ve kissed a lot of bloody frogs.’

  Ella looked at her reflection in the mirrored wall of the pub. Her hair was plaited back off her face following a quick shower at Lissa’s place, and her face was still faintly pink from exertion.

  ‘Liss?’

  Her friend snapped shut the lipstick she’d reapplied and used a napkin to blot her mouth. ‘Mmm?’

  ‘Look, I know you wanted me to have a lovely bonding meal with you guys, but would you mind if I sort of –’

  ‘Buggered off?’

  Ella laughed. ‘Yep.’

  ‘You don’t want to stay for the main course and then go?’

  She shook her head no.

  ‘I’ll tell James you didn’t fancy third-wheeling it and you left in a huff.’

  ‘Ha ha.’ Ella caught the collar of her coat with a finger and lifted it up over her shoulder. ‘Tell him I’ve got a horse with suspected colic, or something.’

  Lissa gave a knowing grin and held out her hand, palm up, for a high five. ‘Deal.’

  ‘See you later, Ella, love,’ Andy the barman called as she swung open the doors.

  ‘See you.’ She raised her hand in a wave. Outside, she paused for a moment on the doorstep and fastened her coat, realizing that the sky had clouded over. The first drops of rain hit her face as she stepped out into the Lion car park.

  Her stuff was at Lissa’s house, and there was no way she was going back in and interrupting Love’s Young Dream to pick up the keys. There was nothing for it, she’d have to start walking, and get in a hot bath when she got home to recover.

  The rain was coming down in huge, heavy splattering drops by the time she turned at the telephone box and made her way through the houses and onto th
e lane that led out of the village. She could feel it beginning to soak through the seams of her coat, her shoulders and elbows feeling damp and uncomfortable. The street lights were on, but with the skies clouded over there was no moonlight. She’d have to walk up the road in the pitch dark. It wouldn’t be the first time, but still. There were times when she cursed living in a village with no public transport and an extremely sporadic taxi service – and Huw the taxi driver was at least three pints down in the Lion, so he wasn’t going anywhere this evening.

  The first rumble of thunder was faint in the distance. Maybe she’d make it back before it started properly. She sped up a bit, puffing as she tried to hold the collar of her coat tight against her neck. It was even darker now, and she reached into her pocket for her phone to use it as a torch.

  ‘Bollocks.’

  There was a snort of laughter from somewhere behind her, and she spun around in the gloom.

  ‘Ella.’

  She recognized the voice straight away.

  ‘Hi.’

  He was standing in the old stone bus shelter, his collar turned up against the rain. He raised his hands skywards in a hopeless gesture and smiled, surprising her. His hair was soaking and he raked it back from his forehead.

  He nodded to the bags at his feet.

  ‘I thought I’d pop to the shop, give Jenny and Lou a bit of time to have a chat.’

  ‘I went to the pub to have dinner with Lissa and her new boyfriend.’

  Harry pulled a face. ‘Awkward.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  Ella could hear her heart thumping against her chest and put an unthinking hand up, pressing down as if to steady it. She took a breath in.

  His eyes dropped to her hand briefly, and then he met her gaze.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you. To apologize.’

  ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’ She felt her cheeks burn, remembering the sight of Hope lying broken on the ground. ‘I could have lost everything, and it would have served me right.’

  ‘That was never going to happen.’

  ‘But it would have been fair.’ Ella pushed her hair back behind her ear and looked at him, lifting her chin. ‘After everything, it would have been fair.’

  ‘After everything?’ His voice was gentle.

  ‘After the accident. After – after Dad died.’

  ‘Ella, what happened was awful, and we were both very young. We made mistakes.’

  She nodded. ‘I only wish I could make it OK.’

  ‘You don’t have to make it OK. It just is.’

  A gust of wind blew a splatter of raindrops from the edge of the shelter and Ella jumped forward to avoid them, realizing as she looked up that she was now so close to Harry that she could feel the warmth of his hand which – if she reached out her little finger – she could touch.

  As if he could read her mind, his fingers found hers and he lifted her hand, taking it between his. ‘You’re cold.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I am, too.’

  He stepped towards her at the same moment as she moved and she allowed herself to be wrapped – like a long-forgotten memory – in his arms. She closed her eyes, realizing as she did that she could feel his heart thudding just as loudly through the layers of his clothes.

  ‘Ella,’ he said, into her hair.

  She pulled back, looking up at him.

  ‘I need you to understand something.’ His voice cracked as he spoke.

  ‘When I saw you riding, it reminded me of you – before. And of us. I want to be happy.’ He lifted a hand to her cheek, tracing his finger gently down the side of her face, looking at her with a love she remembered so well. ‘I want you to be happy.’

  ‘I am.’ And she was in that moment, she realized. Even if nothing else happened, this brief moment in the rain had recalibrated everything. She thought of Bron with her arm around Meg, smiling in the sunshine.

  A crack of lightning flashed overhead, lighting up his face so she could see the stubble on his jaw and the lines that grief and time had etched around his eyes. She reached a hand up to touch them with a finger. ‘I am happy.’

  ‘I want –’ He caught her hand and ran a thumb gently down her wrist, sending a crackle of electricity through her body to rival the lightning. It was the smallest of gestures but she realized that if she was going to act, it should be now.

  ‘I do, too.’ She lifted her mouth to his, curling a hand around the back of his neck.

  ‘Do you remember that first Christmas when I came to stay, and Bron was baking in the kitchen?’

  Ella swung his hand as they walked up the lane in the darkness towards the cottage.

  ‘I do.’ She smiled to herself.

  ‘I think she’d be pleased to know we’ve called a truce, don’t you?’

  He stopped, pulling her round to kiss her once again.

  ‘I tried,’ he said, his mouth close to hers, ‘to stop loving you. Tried harder than I have tried anything.’

  ‘Me too.’

  Epilogue

  ‘Turn her before the last fence and push her into canter.’

  Hope, determination on her face, gave a shout of delight as Muffin soared over the jump.

  ‘Well done, darling,’ Bron clapped, turning with delight to smile at Meg. They were leaning on the edge of the outdoor arena in the sunshine, having been press-ganged into taking the role of jump stewards.

  ‘Can you make it bigger, Bron?’ Hope pushed her riding hat up and scratched her freckled nose. She was grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Charlotte rushed forward. She was making the most of her time at the yard before she headed off to Gloucestershire to university – a couple of years later than her parents had expected, but she was off to work towards a degree in Equine Science.

  ‘Not too high, Charlotte. I think maybe we should do a few more training rounds before you start aiming for the Horse of the Year Show,’ said Ella, laughing.

  The sunshine was warm on her back as she paused for a moment, watching. Eighteen months had passed, and Hope was on her long summer holiday. She still loved the little primary school. Coming home each night to ride her own pony helped too, of course. Harry’s time was spent helping out at the stables, dealing with the paperwork, and of course enjoying his time with Hope.

  ‘Where d’you want this, Ella?’ He was carrying a crate of flowers they’d bought from the garden centre to make the place look good for the brochures they were having printed.

  She turned and made her way across to him, leaving Hope in the capable hands of her two great-aunts.

  ‘Can I just,’ she stood on tiptoe, planting a kiss on his mouth, ‘give you this?’

  He pulled her close. ‘Is it an IOU for later?’

  ‘Could be.’ Ella smiled.

  ‘Have you heard from Jenny and Lou?’

  She nodded. ‘An email. They were in dock, having mojitos on the city wall of Colombia. Next stop was the Panama Canal, I think she said.’

  Jenny and Lou had bought another cottage in the village in the end, selling up their home in Norwich to the family who’d been renting it. They were delighted to take over the house they’d fallen in love with. With Harry home all the time, and Hope happily settled with her new stepmother, Jenny confided to Ella that while she missed so much close contact with her granddaughter, she loved being able to spoil her and not worry so much about the day-to-day things. Meanwhile, Bron and Meg had settled on the Gold Coast of Australia but travelled back to Wales in their winter to spend time with Ella, Harry and their growing family.

  Hope was looking forward to a trip to Disneyland with them at Christmastime – the whole crew. She might not have a conventional family, Ella thought, but between them there was a huge amount of love. When she went into Hope’s bedroom to tidy up or put away washing, she’d always take a look at Sarah’s photograph and smile. Jenny had assured her that Sarah would definitely approve of the way things had turned out. It felt good to have Hope’s mother’s blessing
, somehow.

  ‘Come and watch,’ Hope shouted across to them. She’d wheedled Charlotte into raising the height of the jump and was flying over a fence almost as tall as she was.

  Harry stood behind Ella, wrapping his arms around her, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head.

  ‘Let’s hope these two –’ he patted the round shape of Ella’s stomach, laughing – ‘don’t have such a taste for adventure.’

  She squeezed his hand. ‘I suspect they might.’

  Acknowledgements

  To everyone who has waited patiently for this book while I went off and wrote two Y.A. novels – thank you. I am lucky to have such lovely readers, and chatting to you all online makes this work lots more enjoyable (even if it makes me less productive!).

  To the writing friends who keep me (relatively) sane: The Prime Writers gang, The Literary Hooters and the Millionaires – thanks for making me laugh when I should probably be working. There’s a bit of a theme here. Love and thank you to Ella Risbridger, who could see what I was trying to write when it was still a muddle.

  To my family – and the children, and the animals – thank you for putting up with writing Rachael, aka the scruffy and grumpy version. I love you all.

  To my editors Louise and Caroline, and everyone at Macmillan who helps turn my scribbles into a real live book, thank you!

  Amanda Preston, agent extraordinaire – I am enormously lucky to have you, and your combination of cheerleading and (gentle) arse-kicking is exactly what a writer needs. Thanks also to everyone at LBA for being the best agency (with the most stairs . . .).

  And to my lovely husband Ross – oh yes, that’s what we were meaning to tell you all – thank you for everything but especially the tea and the baths. And the tea. And for pointing out (frequently) that no, I don’t need to hire a skip and declutter the whole house, I need to do my edits.

  Finding Hope at Hillside Farm

  Rachael lives by the sea in the north-west of England with her husband, six children, two dogs, two cats, three chickens and two guinea pigs. She is very grateful to the inventor of noise-cancelling headphones.

 

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