New Boss at Birchfields (7 page)

As she slid between the cool linen sheets she felt bemused and apprehensive. Blane Lennox was now her
employer—and also her enemy. Well, he would find in her a worthy adversary, she thought with satisfaction, as she glided into sleep.

She was up early on the following morning and got ready quickly. It was just five minutes to seven as she entered the gates of Birchfields. She had arrived exactly on time, she thought with satisfaction.

When she had walked along the drive she found Blane Lennox in the stable yard, his feet planted in that arrogant possessive manner that she was soon to recognise so well.

‘
So you
’
re on time!
’
he remarked.

‘
But of course!
’
she replied aloofly.
‘
I made a point of being exactly on time.
’

For a moment the long, deeply-carved mouth tightened. So Blane Lennox was not used to his employees sticking up for themselves, she thought with a little complacent glow. Well, he might as well learn right from the start that he couldn
’
t intimidate her!

Without answering he swung around to speak to a boy over the half door of one of the stables. And as he came out, leading a horse, Briony saw that it was the same tall thin boy who had directed her to the tack room on the previous afternoon. He darted her a quick rather unfriendly glance and was about to move away across the yard when with a slight movement of his hand his employer arrested him.

Blane Lennox turned his attention to Briony again.
‘
By the way, you didn
’
t tell me your name yesterday. What is it?
’

‘
Briony Walton,
’
she told him.

‘
Miss Briony Walton will be working here in future,
’
he told the boy,
‘
so you and Johnny had better watch your Ps and Qs.
’

The boy
’
s face grew sulky and Briony bit her lip in exasperation. This was just the sort of remark calculated to make the boys antagonistic towards her. Was he testing her out to see if she could stay the course, or had it been no more than one of his usual rough, unthinking remarks? It would be hard to tell.

As the boy led the horse of
f t
owards one of the paddocks, Blane Lennox said to
he
r,
‘
I
’
m rather surprised to see you here today. I felt sure
Mrs.
Gillies would put her foot down. How did she take the news that you
’
d decided to work for that ogre Blane Lennox?
’

If she had been speaking to any other man, Briony would instinctively have tried to smooth over Hettie
’
s objections. But to him she was determined to make no concessions.
‘
She wasn
’
t pleased,
’
she told him flatly.
‘
She doesn
’
t like my working for you. In fact, she objects very strongly.
’

His thick dark eyebrows pulled down in a straight line across his forehead.
‘
And you don
’
t like working for me either?
’

‘
There was nothing else available.
’

‘
Well, that answers my question, doesn
’
t it? Are you always as forthright as this?
’

By admitting this was not so she would be confessing to the chink in her armour and letting him know she was being deliberately defensive. But before she could reply he said thoughtfully,
‘
Briony—that
’
s an unusual name, but somehow it suits you. And now, Briony, it
’
s time you got to work. As it
’
s your first day you can start off in the tack room. Try to square it up. The boys leave it in an awful mess as a rule. After that you can help water the ponies.
’
And turning, he strode away.

At least one always knew where one was with Blane Lennox, she thought, a little piqued at the abrupt dismissal.

He was right about the tack room, she decided, as she surveyed it in dismay. Bottles of liniment were scattered among tins of saddle soap and metal polish. On a windowsill was a half empty bottle of milk, some unwashed mugs and the remains of a half-eaten snack. She set to
work determinedly. She would let her new employer know right away that she had no intention of slacking.

It didn
’
t take her long to get things shipshape. Finally there remained the snack on the windowsill to be dealt with, and she was wondering what she ought to do with someone
’
s half eaten roll when she became conscious that she was being observed, and turned to find Johnny regarding her, a smile on his freckled face.

‘
Hello! So you
’
re really working here? This is a bit of luck. First time a pretty girl has joined the gang!
’
he said with boyish admiration, and Briony had to laugh.

‘
Thanks! But I doubt if I
’
ll look very pretty by the end of the day. This isn
’
t the sort of job for anyone who wants to look glamorous.
’

‘
No.
’
He sauntered about admiring the new order she had established.
‘
I
’
m sorry, it was a bit of a mess. The boss is always on to us about the way we keep it, but usually when the tack
’
s finished there just isn
’
t time to tidy up.
’

‘
It appears to me that
Mr.
Lennox has very high standards,
’
Briony sniffed.

Johnny looked at her, faintly puzzled.
‘
Yes, that
’
s true. But then he works very hard himself, you know.
’

‘
You seem to like working for him,
’
Briony remarked.
‘
But from what I
’
ve seen so far he appears to be a bit of a taskmaster.
’

‘
He doesn
’
t go in for fancy talk,
’
Johnny admitted.
‘
And he has some splendid animals. No broken-down old nags for the Lennox Riding School! I like it here—I always wanted to work with horses. And
Mr.
Lennox
’
s bark is worse than his bite.
’

‘
His bark is quite enough as far as I
’
m concerned,
’
Briony told him.

Johnny grinned.
‘
You don
’
t know half of it. Watch
_k
you don
’
t get into hot water or you
’
ll really get the edge of his tongue!
’

She glanced about with satisfaction.
‘
I don
’
t think he can have any complaints about the tack room at any rate—except for those dreadful bits and pieces on the windowsill.
’

‘
Oh, just shove them in the cupboard,
’
Johnny told her airily.
‘
And mind you don
’
t throw away Andy
’
s bun,
’
he added with a grin.
‘
He
’
ll want it for his elevenses.
’

‘
And now I
’
d better give a hand helping to water the ponies,
’
Briony remarked when she had done as he directed.
‘
And I think you
’
d better get back to work or
Mr.
Lennox will be down on you like a ton of bricks.
’

Johnny sighed as he slid off the table.
‘
All right, but I
’
ll help you with the buckets first. They
’
re pretty heavy. I can
’
t imagine why the boss gave you that job.
’

Well, I can, Briony was thinking as she walked towards the water trough in the yard. He intended her to realise that unless she could measure up to Johnny and Andy she would not be worth her keep, and he was determined to test her mettle at the outset.

She told Johnny that she would be perfectly well able to manage on her own, but he insisted on helping her with the first bucket. They were half way across the yard when a deep harsh voice startled both of them. Water from the bucket splashed over and drenched Briony
’
s ankles. Johnny turned, blinking nervously as Blane Lennox advanced. His walk was typical of the man, Briony decided, deliberate—yes, and arrogant too.

‘
I want it to be understood, Johnny, that you
’
re not here to assist Briony. You
’
ve your own work to do. Go about it immediately.
’

As Johnny hastened away, Briony picked up the bucket. As Johnny had said, it was heavy, but aware that Blane Lennox was watching her, she held herself as upright as possible. She would let him see that she was able to measure up to the boys.

But she breathed a sigh of relief when, later in the
morning, they had a tea-break in the tack room. Andy McLeish quickly returned to work, but Johnny lingered a little.

As he followed her out into the yard, a small car drove in. Out of it stepped a tall slim girl and a child in riding clothes.

‘
Here comes trouble!
’
Johnny told her.
‘
That Sandra Wilson is a little devil. She
’
s here for her own special lesson. Not that she
’
ll ever be able to ride well, not if she kept at it until she
’
s a hundred! But she thinks she knows it all and can
’
t be taught.
’

‘
Is that her mother with her?
’
Briony asked.

‘
Not likely!
’
Johnny laughed.
‘
That
’
s Senga MacNeil. She
’
s games mistress, or whatever you like to call her, at Laureston School. She
’
s new to the place, and I
’
ll say this for her, she
’
s a great rider, almost as good as the boss, and he
’
s one of the best.
’

And now Briony looked at the tall girl more attentively. She was not really very good-looking, her face was rather too long and narrow, but the high cheekbones and slightly slanted eyes gave her an exotic look, and she wore her clothes with style. It was easy to picture her as an athlete, skiing at Aviemore, playing a hard game of tennis, excelling at all outdoor sports.

At this point Blane Lennox made his appearance, and stood chatting with Senga MacNeil while Sandra Wilson, looking bored and sullen, flicked at her shoes with her crop.

A few moments later Blane came striding towards the tack room
.
‘
Ah, there you are!
’
he exclaimed to Briony.
‘
I
’
ve a pupil for you.
’

‘
What?
’
Briony exclaimed.
‘
You mean, give a lesson
—
now?
’
She gazed at him in dismay. Somehow she didn
’
t feel ready to give a lesson yet: she had not become acclimatised to this new job. Besides, she had not expected to have to give lessons to children as old as Sandra. She had visualised herself as leading out the very young
children. It was rather daunting to have to deal right away with a pupil who,
according
to Johnny, thought she knew everything already.

But Blane Lennox was saying,
‘
Yes, a lesson now. Why not? That
’
s what you
’
re employed for, isn
’
t it?’