He flashed her a look and Cassie knew exactly what it meant.Can we, please, his gaze was imploring her, but she shook her head firmly. They couldn’t possibly take on this dog; he was enormous and would probably need his own bedroom. No doubt he would cost as much as another teenager to feed, and she had enough on her hands with two bereaved ones already. She made herself step away, hating to see the swift hope and happiness in Rory’s expression fade.
‘He’s well socialised, used to grandchildren popping in and out. They’re a breed which like a lot of company, so he can’t stay in the house all day on his own.’ Dorothy gave Flynn a final pat and shut the stable door, bolting it firmly top and bottom. Cassie thought he could clear it with ease if he fancied a go.
‘So he has to sleep in here as well?’ Rory turned stricken eyes on Dorothy.
‘No, he sleeps in the house with the rest of m’pack.’
Cassie glanced back as they moved on to the stable next door. Flynn’s head was leaning on the bars as he watched them, and she looked away, unable to bear the disappointment in his gaze too.
Bob, the sturdy dapple-grey cob, was gorgeous, and she understood exactly why Dorothy had decided to take him on. Aged fifteen, he’d come to her via a friend who’d recently given up horses at ninety, and he was politely accepting polo mints from Harriet and Isla, curling a hairy top lip and revealing teeth beginning to slope and turn brown. Dapples were fading with age, and his mane and tail were thick, matched by white feathers, the long hair beneath his knees and hocks falling to his hooves. He obligingly lowered his head so Dorothy could slip on a halter, and she looped the lead rope across his neck.
‘You’re a marvellous chap, aren’t you. Best sort when they’ve got four legs,’ she told him fondly.
Cassie grinned as Raf muttered something behind her, hoping Dorothy hadn’t caught it. Isla sent her a wistful smile, and she felt a pang of sorrow for her daughter. If they’d moved to Galloway before Isla had started high school, then she would probably have been able to have her own pony, and Rory wouldn’t have to cycle the streets of London. But that dream had vanished, consigned to thoughts of what might have been if Ewan were still here.
‘There’s no rush to come home, girls,’ Cassie told them quietly, trying to make amends for their lack of pets by giving Isla more time here. On the way she’d overheard Rory and Raf making plans to cycle tomorrow, as Raf was apparently staying over tonight. ‘Just let us know what time to expect you back, okay?’
‘We will,’ Isla assured her. ‘We’ve got to feed Posy, Flo and Hero as well.’ She found a hoof pick hanging outside the door, and Cassie, Raf and Rory left them to it as they returned to the yard with Dorothy.
Cassie had brought the empty egg boxes to fill, and they spent fifteen minutes trying to locate fresh eggs, which the hens and ducks laid all over the place. Eventually they had a dozen brown eggs in the two boxes, and she thanked Dorothy, who said she’d call at Home Farm at some point to see the new foal.
Back at the house Cassie excused herself and set up her laptop in her room to host her work meeting. Thirty minutes later she was glad to finish, satisfied all was in place for the VIP influencer and their magazine shoot the following week. She picked up her phone, headed downstairs and found Pippa on the terrace. Lola and Maud were stretched out on the grass nearby, ever alert for sneaky treats coming their way. If it wasn’t for her terrible secret, she might feel as close to content as possible in this moment, bathed in warm spring sunshine beneath a cornflower-blue sky.
She wouldn’t ever tire of the view, even though the landscape was so different to Galloway, where she and Ewan had spent so much time. They’d met when, aged fourteen, Cassie had joined Pippa, Raf and their younger sister Tilly on holiday in the remote beachside cottage Jonny had bought, always striving to make his children happy after losing their mum when Pippa was fourteen and Raf thirteen. Ewan had lived next door, a few hundred yards along the lane, and he and Raf had been mates from the beginning. They both loved messing around in the water, sailing, hiking and cycling, and they were always together. Ewan went to school in the village, and his life couldn’t have been more of a contrast to Raf’s in London as the son of a rock legend.
Ewan was different to the boys Cassie had known then, and he’d been so sure of his future career as a surgeon. She’d found his confidence and certainty very reassuring and appealing amidst the turmoil between her parents at home, and she’d quickly been drawn into the heart of his loving family, one which bore little resemblance to her own. They managed to keep their relationship going for a year but eventually drifted apart as their lives expanded with college. When Ewan moved south a couple of years later to read Medicine at King’s College London and discovered she was there too, reading Psychology, they reconnected and resumed their relationship, which soon became serious.
Cassie watched Pippa’s hand straying to Maud when she wandered across, gently stroking the happy little spaniel. Between the gallery, the work underway extending the practice and Cassie’s career alongside the demands of their families, they didn’t see as much of one another as they used to. She doubted there would ever be a time when she didn’t miss having Pippa in London, but it was clear life in Hartfell suited her and Harriet. Pippa and Gil had developed a rhythm and a togetherness as a couple that she recognised and missed very much. There was so much to learn as a single parent, so much to navigate alone.
Cassie jolted and it took her a few bleary moments to remember she was in bed in Pippa and Gil’s guest room, not at home in London. She’d dozed off thinking about what to record in her journal. Sleep didn’t come quite so easily since losing Ewan, and sometimes she woke in the early hours, gripped by fear for Isla and Rory. Would there ever come a day when she didn’t miss him, both for herself and their children? Would she live without wanting to weep for the loss they’d suffered, and the new lives forced upon them? In daylight, she knew that she would. Those unsettling thoughts stole into her mind during the darkened hours, when the fight-or-flight sensation was at its worst, and she’d wait, heart clattering, for the adrenaline to subside. But then morning would arrive and she’d get up, ready to face the hours ahead and make them matter.
It was her counsellor who’d suggested writing down her thoughts to help make sense of the days, to understand that sometimes small steps amounted to huge wins. She had toyed with the idea for a while before buying a journal last year, and now she’d filled three. Without Ewan the world seemed bigger, scarier, lonelier, and the small details she recorded reminded her it wasn’t always. That there was love and hope too, and health and times of happiness. Slowly, gradually, their family was healing.
One day she planned to read her journals again and understand how far they had come. But for now, it helped to remember how she, Isla and Rory were coping, to acknowledge the grief at the heart of their lives while finding ways to thrive. Life and the world had moved on, and it had taken months of counselling to help her realise that she and her children were steadily moving on with it.
Cassie switched on the bedside light and, checking her phone, saw it was only midnight. She decided to fetch a glass of water. The house was silent as she crept downstairs, and in the kitchen Lola and Maud greeted her sleepily without rising from their beds. She bent down to stroke them, quietly apologising for the disturbance, before finding a glass and filling it from the fridge.
‘Cassie?’
She shrieked, the glass sliding from her hand to shatter into pieces, which skidded across the tiles in a puddle of water. She spun around to see Raf hovering in the doorway. Lola and Maud’s tails were thumping in welcome again, and her breath quickened.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.’ He stepped forward as though he was about to help clear up, and she flung a hand in the air.
‘Just leave it,’ she rushed out, thankful her feet weren’t bare as she lunged for kitchen roll. He switched on a light, making her blink. ‘I’ll sort it out.’
‘You’re going to need more than kitchen roll. There’s glass everywhere.’
‘You don’t say,’ she retorted, hunching down to mop up the water. ‘Make sure the dogs stay in their beds.’
‘I’ll fetch the hoover.’
‘Raf, there’s no…’ But he was already turning for the hall and the cupboard under the stairs. The dogs made to follow, and Cassie sharply told them to stay put in case they stepped on glass. They obeyed, unused to her stern command. She dropped sodden kitchen roll and chunks of glass in the bin, keeping out of the way as he ran the hoover over the rest.
‘Thanks. I hope we haven’t woken anyone.’ She glanced up as though she could check on her sleeping friends from where she stood. Anything to avoid looking at Raf and acknowledging they were alone in the near dark for the first time since Australia.
‘So how long are you staying?’ She hoped to find conversation that wouldn’t drag them straight back to that night six months ago.
‘Not sure. I’ve got some stuff to sort out before I head back to the flat.’
