Springtime at Cherry Tree Cottage (26 page)

‘She's done me a favour. She's only gone and confirmed what I thought and you denied, that you're still sleeping together. Go ahead and make the most of that king-sized bed. See if I care.'

‘Flick, it isn't like that.' He runs his hands through his hair in apparent frustration, but I can't help wondering if it is an act. He's a showman as well as a stunt rider. He knows how to put on a performance. ‘I'll sleep on the floor, or in the Land Rover.'

‘You can do what you like,' I say snappily. ‘It doesn't matter to me.'

‘But it does,' he says, holding out his palms, ‘otherwise you wouldn't be like this.'

‘Like what exactly?' My hands are on my hips, my fingers pressing against my bones.

He swears out loud. ‘You're behaving like a stroppy mare.'

‘What did you say?' I want him to repeat it, because I can't believe what I thought I heard – from Robbie, of all people.

‘I didn't mean to make that remark – it just came out,' he blunders on.

‘So you were thinking it anyway.'

‘I didn't intend to offend you.'

‘Well, you have, and I don't wish to talk about it any more.' He's as bad as some of the other males in my life with his sexist attitude. ‘I'm sorry about Nelson. Really, I am. I'll be in touch when I have his new shoes.' I turn and walk away. It's all I can do. Why on earth did he ask me for my support when he has Kerry? I feel used and fed up and all I want to do is get away, but Maisie comes running across the yard from the house. She's wearing a Pony Club polo shirt, jodhpurs and short boots, and carrying a pink sparkly crop.

‘Flick, it's you.' She throws herself at me, giving me a hug. ‘Are you coming for a ride with me and Daddy soon?'

‘I don't think so.' I hesitate before remembering that none of this is her fault, and give her a hug back. ‘I might see you when I come back to put Nelson's special shoes on.'

She lets me go and runs off to her father. I don't look back.

First thing on the following Tuesday afternoon, armed with special broad web shoes, plastic pads and sealant, I drive over to the Saltertons', past Cherry Tree Cottage and into the yard. Robbie is in the arena. I walk across to the gate, hesitating for a moment, my heart beating lightly as I spot him in his flowing shirt and jeans, working with Diva. He sends her off at canter in circles around him, using just his voice and the movement of his body.

I'm not sure if he's aware of my presence or not, but the mare slows to a walk, halts and rears up. He sends her away again, before turning towards the fence and letting her come to him. She's blowing lightly and her coat has a sheen like beaten copper.

‘Chuck me that halter, Flick.' Robbie strokes the mare's neck and looks towards me. ‘It's on the gatepost.'

I pick it up, open the gate and take it in for him. He slips it over the mare's head and leads her into the yard. I walk alongside.

‘How are you getting on with her?' I ask.

‘She's quick to learn, but inconsistent. I've been working with her at least once a day, sometimes twice. She'll try to lull me into a false sense of security by doing everything I ask of her in one session, then turn into a monster the next. She jumped out of the arena yesterday.'

‘Do you think there's any chance that she'll be ready for the Country Show? When is it again?'

‘It's less than seven weeks away now. It isn't just that. I'm hoping to take her to the Pony Club rally the weekend after next. Oh, I don't know.' He shakes his head. ‘Kerry's taken a couple of days off, so we're short-handed. It would be handy if you could get Nelson out while I put Diva away,' he adds as Neil walks around the corner with the dogs.

‘Don't let my son make you do all his work when it's him who's upset our groom. Did he mention that she went off in a bit of a strop? He's good with horses, I'll give him that, but he hasn't a clue how to handle women.' He gives me a long look. ‘Is that sexist?'

‘You were implying that women can be handled rather like horses,' Robbie points out.

‘Goodness, no. I wouldn't say that. If anything, they're much less easy to break in.' Neil smiles. ‘Look at you two with the long faces. You really need to lighten up a bit. It was a joke – what you call a wind-up. Anyway, it's lovely to see you, Flick. I hope you can help Nelson. He hates me, but I don't like to see him suffer.'

Neil walks on past, whistling for the dogs.

‘I'll get the horse out,' I offer. ‘It's no problem.'

I take Nelson out of his box while Robbie puts Diva away. Nelson trips through the door and shuffles round like an elderly man when I turn him to tie him to the ring outside.

‘Can I help you with your anvil or something in return?' Robbie says, opening up the back of the truck.

‘Thank you. How is he?'

Robbie puts the tool trolley on the ground. One of the hammers drops out.

‘About the same,' he says morosely as he picks it up. ‘I'm hoping for a miracle.' He moves across and puts his arms around the stallion's neck. The horse responds by turning his head and nuzzling at his shoulder. ‘I keep asking myself, why Nelson? I've always been so careful not to overwork him. I've kept him as fit as possible to reduce the chance of injury, and yes, there have been times where I've had to work him on hard ground – I mean, you can't cancel a live show – but it hasn't been what I'd call over the top.'

The bright sunlight reveals the dark shadows around Robbie's eyes, and the contours of his cheeks, which appear more prominent, as if he's lost some weight.

‘It isn't your fault. It's one of those things.'

‘Maybe.' He shrugs.

I start to pull the first of Nelson's front shoes off. ‘Did you enjoy the party at the weekend? I was thinking of you,' Robbie says.

‘It was great, thanks.'

‘How was your friend, Sarah?'

‘She's fine.' She seemed very well, dressed in a yellow maternity dress and flats, and completely absorbed in preparations for the imminent birth of her baby daughter. ‘She looks ready to pop.' I feel awkward suddenly, remembering that Robbie doesn't have fond memories of pregnancy and birth.

‘When Ashley came for his therapy session yesterday, he told me that he looked after Rafa for you.'

‘Yes, Louise offered. I know she's very experienced, but I still didn't like leaving him.' I had been lucky. Mel had let me take the truck and – because Rafa had nibbled the leaves off the plant I bought for Sarah – Louise had given me a jar of home-made strawberry jam and roses from the garden to give her instead.

I recall the conversation as she'd wrapped the flowers in tissue paper and cellophane.

‘Mel and I are going out tonight,' she said. ‘Sally Ann's coming over to sit with Ashley, so she'll make sure he gives Rafa his bedtime carrot. We've made a few changes to try and get our marriage back on track.'

‘I didn't know it was off track,' I said hesitantly. ‘You must have noticed that we don't always get along.'

‘I wouldn't have said you were very different from other married couples I know.' I couldn't help wishing I had someone special to argue with now and again.

‘Maybe not.' She turned the ring on her finger. ‘Now that I'm confident that Ashley can cope with me going out for two or three hours, we're going to have a regular date night. Tonight we're off to the pub to hear some live music.'

‘Enjoy,' I said.

‘You too,' she'd said, and I'd thrown a few things into a bag and driven to Sarah's house in a small village in Hampshire.

Returning to the present, I pull the second of Nelson's front shoes off and shave a tiny amount of horn from his feet. I spend some time making sure that the weight-bearing surfaces of his feet are level, and that the feet are what we call ‘balanced'.

As I work, I think back to the party. It had been a welcome distraction from the images that had flicked through my brain of Robbie and Kerry smiling from her friend's wedding photos and sleeping in a king-sized bed. I glance towards him now and again – his face is impassive as he keeps an eye on the stallion. Am I being unreasonable? Would he really keep two women on the go?

I'd talked to Sarah about how I felt about him, and she had consoled me, assuring me there were plenty more fish in the sea. The trouble is that I want so much more than a fish. She introduced me to David's geeky brother again, and her new neighbour, who's a personal trainer, over a glass of Pimm's, but there was no spark of attraction. The neighbour, Simon, was a laugh. He said that Sarah had told him I was a blacksmith and he was relieved to find that my guns were smaller than his. We chatted for much of the evening in the garden where the trees were adorned with strings of white lights. By midnight we were arm-wrestling across the breakfast bar in the kitchen, with Sarah looking on.

When I'm satisfied with Nelson's hooves, I fetch the new shoes from the truck to show Robbie.

‘These are in the style Matt suggested. They're designed to spread the load across the wall of Nelson's feet. I'm going to leave his heels longer, to take the pressure off the back of the foot, but we've decided against wedges for now.'

‘So he won't be getting the high heels he wanted,' he jokes.

‘What is he? The world's first cross-dressing stallion?' I can't help chuckling at the thought and I start to relax in Robbie's presence.

I shape the first shoe and return with it on the pritchel. I pick up Nelson's foot and apply the hot shoe. The horn burns and crackles. Small sparks fly up in the swirling smoke. I take the shoe off, put it down and rasp the bearing surface smooth, using the non-singed areas as my guide.

Robbie brings me a bucket of water. I drop the shoe in. It bubbles and the tiniest wisp of steam rises into the air.

‘How about your weekend?' I ask. ‘How was the wedding?'

‘I didn't go,' he begins. ‘I took Maisie to the Mayday celebrations in Talyton instead.'

‘Oh?'

‘I couldn't. I know I told you that I was obliged to keep my word, but when it came down to it, it made more sense to stay at home. I wanted to prove to you that there's nothing going on between me and Kerry, so I asked Dillon to go in my place. She was not happy when I told her about the change of plan.'

‘I'm surprised you did that after all you said about not letting her down.'

‘I was hoping that it would make a difference.'

‘It doesn't to me, not really.' Except that it does a little, I think to myself. It won't change our status, but it feels good that he thought I was worth dropping Kerry for, because I can't imagine that she was happy about the new arrangement.

‘To us?'

‘There is no us.' I look away with a pang of regret at the expression of hurt in his eyes. ‘I'd rather forget what happened and move on.'

‘Please listen to me. Is it really that easy for you? You can make out you're one of the lads, that you don't care, but I know you better than that by now. You were right about Kerry. I didn't realise how she felt. I didn't see that I was stringing her along.' He blunders on. ‘I really thought she was cool about the situation between me and her. She said she was. She told me she didn't want anything serious.' He shrugs. ‘I don't understand people who don't say what they mean, or mean what they say.'

I gaze at him.

‘I thought I was doing the right thing,' he continues. ‘I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, so I let the casual relationship I had with Kerry drift into a kind of certainty on her part.

‘If you didn't care about me, you wouldn't be upset, would you?' he adds hopefully.

‘That's true.' I chew on my lip as I breathe his scent of leather and musk, and study his hands, which are turned palm-up towards me, as if in supplication. I love the gentle strength in his long fingers and the way the sinews of his wrists expand into muscle in his taut, tanned forearms, which disappear under the loose material of his shirt. ‘I've already said that I'll be on my way when Mel is fit again. Let's leave it at that. Friends?'

‘Friends …' he echoes.

I turn away and fit the two front shoes with pads and silicone gel.

‘I hope Nelson's happy with his insoles,' I say, when I'm smoothing the last of the clenches. I let the horse's foot down and start to collect up my tools.

‘I just want him back in work. As well as putting Diva through an intensive training programme, I'm looking for another lead horse at the same time. I'm not having much luck though. Horses like Nelson are few and far between. If you hear of anything that might be suitable when you're out and about, think of me.'

I think about him all the time, I muse.

‘Of course, you could also consider loaning or selling Rafa,' he adds.

‘Robbie!'

‘No. That's okay. It was worth a go. He's a lovely horse.' He hesitates. ‘Me and my big mouth. I should learn to keep it shut. I'm afraid I've hurt your feelings again.'

‘I'm fine,' I say, more annoyed than upset. He knows I'd never sell him.

I catch sight of Sally Ann parking her car outside the house. Maisie jumps out with her satchel and book bag.

I wheel the tool trolley back to the truck and Robbie carries the anvil. On the way back, Badger wanders over, his claws clicking on the concrete. He nudges me in the crotch. I push him back and stroke his whiskery face.

Dillon walks across the yard with a wheelbarrow, spilling dirty shavings across the yard on his way to the muck heap.

‘I don't know how many times I've told him,' Robbie sighs.

‘He asked me out the other day.' I could keep it quiet. It doesn't make any difference and it isn't any of Robbie's business, but I want him to know. Friends shouldn't keep secrets from each other.