‘Thanks, Bumpa,’ Sage said, through a mouthful of toast and marmalade.
‘Right, Betsy,’ Dennis said as he accepted a cup of coffee from Maggie with a smile of thanks, ‘first thing I want to say is that Sandpiper’s filly is fast. She skipped past Dear Morris like a hare with a firework up its tail, ten lengths clear – she was hard-held and barely broke a sweat. Before you feel too smug, my love – yes, I admit that this is a major coup, well done. I was wrong to sell the filly. Please try not to torture me too callously.’
Betsy gracefully inclined her head towards her husband and with a coy, beguiling smile said, deceptively innocently, ‘I would never seek to cause you pain, husband of mine.’ Her eyes then betraying an impish gleam, she continued, ‘But do admit, darling, that I am the superior judge of horseflesh and then the matter will be closed, your mistake never to be mentioned again.’
‘Ha!’ Dennis snorted, amused despite himself. ‘What Iwilladmit, Elizabeth, is that your sentimentality in holding onto Sandpiper’s progeny could prove extremely lucky. Skylark has good DNA, that’s for sure. However, one thing I am going to insist on is changing her jockey. Fred Wentworth is not the right pilot, not this time. We will leave her entered for the Guineas and she will need to be prepared carefully. I suggest she runs in her maiden race at Chelmsford next week with an apprentice jockey. I am going to talk to Rafe Dunbarton, as he was talking about a very effective girl who is riding well at the moment. Apparently she has won on two of his horses in the last couple of weeks and after watching Sage riding her this morning, the filly obviously responds well to a lighter, feminine touch. Who is here for dinner tomorrow night? I might invite Rafe. Did you say Casper was coming?’
‘I know the girl you mean. She’s Irish, isn’t she? Josie Moore is her name. I saw her riding one of Walter’s horses for Rafe last week. She’s a lovely rider. I think that’s a very good idea. How exciting that we might have a runner in the Guineas! Yes, do invite Rafe – as you say, Casper is here, and Sage.’ Betsy turned to her granddaughter. ‘Sage, do you think we can entice Dolly to come and even out the numbers a little?’
‘We can certainly ask her tomorrow, Gammy,’ Sage replied in amusement. She could read her grandmother’s intentions clearly enough, and she would also dearly love for Casper and Dolly to be reunited.
But at the mention of Rafe Dunbarton, the fearless rider with the fierce temper, her heart had plummeted.
CHAPTER SIX
Friendship … is one of the most indispensable requirements of life.
Aristotle,Nicomachean Ethics, Book VIII
The next morning dawned, frosty and clear. It was a slow day at Dennis’s yard, which meant no galloping. Sage managed her three lots without any real difficulty. Skylark almost unseated her with a particularly athletic reverse pirouette but she managed to stick on – just – and was rewarded when she felt the filly’s power as they cantered up the Warren Hill gallop.
She flew into the house once she’d finished riding, eager to set off to see Dolly but full of nerves too. Dolly had never liked Santiago and had made her thoughts known. Sage could see Dolly had likely been desperate to protect her from making a colossal mistake. It had caused some friction between the two of them and the distance had been complicated, but Sage had still wanted Dolly to be Hal’s godmother and had never regretted it. Dolly had never missed an excuse to send birthday or Christmas presents to Hal. Sage, now able to see her mistakes, had dearly missed the counsel of her clever, kind friend. She was grateful to be galvanized into action, combining the prospect of getting Hal his very own pony with the hurdle of repairing fences with Dolly. Hal was horse-mad and had been since first setting eyes on Magpie, the little piebald Shetland that Uncle Crow had bought for his grandchildren in Panama. He had beamed fromear to ear when he had first ridden her – and when eventually lifted off the little pony, had bawled as though his heart were breaking. At the time, horses had barely featured in their lives and Sage had certainly wondered at the strength of DNA and its long memory.
‘Morning, Maggie!’ she trilled as she burst into the kitchen.
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph, girl!’ Maggie cried, clutching her chest in horror. ‘I’m not used to such exuberance here at breakfast time! Your grandmother is getting young Hal dressed,’ she continued. ‘He’s about as excited as a small child can be this morning. All he can talk about is that little pony.’
‘I just hope it’s suitable. Sorry for frightening you, Maggie. Oh, bless you – thank you.’ Sage perched on the edge of the table, gratefully accepting a mug of coffee.
‘Morning, darling. What do you think of Master Piggott here?’ Betsy walked in with Hal, who ran straight up to his mother. His blonde hair was dishevelled, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes bright with anticipation. He was dressed in cream woollen breeches with tiny leather knee patches, and a little checked shirt and tie with a dark blue V-necked jersey over the top.
‘Oh my goodness, you look adorable!’ Sage felt her heart expand with love as she lifted her son into her arms and held him close. He smelt of sugar and rosemary. ‘Gammy, wheredidyou find these little breeches?’
‘I couldn’t find any of your or Casper’s old things – your father must have them stored up somewhere.’
The casual use of the word made Sage’s heart jump. She had thought of her father more and more since coming home, the house and horses stirring up memories, and making her long for his calm, kind presence that had been the foundation of her childhood. It stung that he’d been in touch with Casper and not her. Although she hadn’t been able to check her email sinceSantiago had broken her phone, so perhaps he had been trying to reach her too. But why now, after all this time?
‘Maggie and I ordered them when we heard you were coming home,’ Betsy said, totally oblivious to Sage’s distraction. ‘We have mastered the internet – haven’t we, Mags?’
‘To be sure we have, Madam Betsy, but I’m not sure two women who took just about three hours to work out how to choose “next day delivery” are going to be running Microsoft just yet.’ Maggie laughed her throaty laugh as she put a tray into the Aga. ‘Did you show him the little boots?’
‘Not yet. Or the hat! We are completely prepared, Sage darling. Come on, Hal – let’s try them on, they’re in the boot room.’
Hal took Betsy’s hand and followed her eagerly.
‘Will I make you a proper cooked breakfast again this morning?’ Maggie asked Sage hopefully, her maternal feeding instincts never off-duty.
‘A piece of toast would be wonderful, Maggie. I think I’ll need it on the hoof if my son is anything to go by this morning,’ Sage said, laughing. ‘It’s lovely to be here but we are going to exhaust Gammy. I’d better start thinking about finding a job and a place of our own.’
‘Oh, I think having you both home is giving everyone a new lease of life. Me included. Madam Betsy is in her element having someone to look after again. It’s been very quiet since you and Casper left.’
‘I doubt I’ll be able to find a job very quickly,’ Sage continued, wondering for the hundredth time if she was an imposition at North Place. She resolved to find a way to make herself useful. ‘A Classics degree doesn’t exactly lead you into any clear profession, and I have no other qualifications or skills. By the time I find a job and an affordable house, I have no doubt that you’ll all be heaving a collective sigh of relief to see the back of us!’
‘You’re not thinking of leaving already, are you, darling?’ Betsy asked worriedly, having heard the last part of their conversation as she came back into the kitchen. ‘You’ve only just got here! Your grandfather is hoping you’ll stay so that you can ride my filly.’
‘No, Gammy! I just need to start thinking about making a plan for the future. Santiago’s mother made it crystal clear that if I left I wouldn’t get a penny in the divorce. Not that I want anything. But I’m not sure what sort of job I could even apply for, or how to sort childcare.’ Sage visibly drooped, the enormity of raising a child with so little finance overcoming her. It was such a worry that it threatened to seriously destabilize her, and so she kept pushing it away to the back of her mind.
‘We can help you with childcare, darling. You must consider riding out as a job – Bumpa is going to pay you for it. But if you want to get another job then I will happily have Hal here all day,’ said Betsy. ‘We get on well, don’t we, sweetheart?’ she added, holding her arms out to Hal, who had just appeared wearing little brown leather jodhpur boots and a dark blue velvet riding hat.
