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13
It was almost the weekend and since the night at the Copper Plough, Hazel had yet again tried to avoid Gus, this time because she’d made a total fool of herself. The man had carried her to bed! Something Arnold had taken great delight in informing her of. Hazel had woken the morning after and when she remembered what had happened, she’d stayed in bed, eyes closed, thinking about Gus, how he had the two different sides to his personality. On the one hand, he was Gus, father, friendly, kind and approachable, dependable and strong. And on the other, he was this man who flew into a temper. She’d asked herself whether everyone had the ability to do that, for their moods to slip, and told herself that of course they did. But still, it didn’t mean it was something she ever wanted to witness, something she ever wanted to have directed at her. She and Gus had been getting on well, really well, but after she’d seen him so angry at his practice, she couldn’t get it out of her head. So when she got to the pub and he kept looking over at her, she’d distracted herself by drinking more and more. She was disappointed he wasn’t the man she thought he was, sad that there would be nothing between them now.
The rain from this morning had cleared and the sun was set to shine all weekend, starting tonight in time for Lucy’s party outside at the waffle shack. Hazel and Arnold had already done turnout for the horses, she’d mucked out the stables, and with lesson time fast approaching, Hazel got Pebbles from the paddock and brought him to the concrete area outside the stable block ready to tack up.
‘I thought you had three in this lesson?’ she queried with her brother, who had already tacked up Jigsaw.
‘One of the riders wanted a private lesson, so I’ve moved them to this afternoon.’
‘Private is a nice earner,’ she smiled. Since they’d spoken about her starting with Abigail to get back into teaching, neither of them had said anything more. Perhaps Arnold didn’t need to ask. The state she’d come home in after the pub, with Gus having to take her upstairs, said that that particular conversation either hadn’t gone well or hadn’t happened at all. When Gus had asked her yet again, in the pub, about giving Abigail lessons it had been on the tip of her tongue to say she didn’t teach kids. But how could she say that to him? She didn’t want anyone in the Cove to know, she wanted everyone to think it was business as usual.
‘I’ve got two private sessions today,’ she told her brother, anxious to prove she was pulling her weight on many levels. ‘One at five o’clock, the other at six.’ Hazel worked out she’d have just enough time to finish up here after the private lessons and get ready for Lucy’s party. She’d wondered whether she should make her excuses when she heard from Barney that Gus had been invited, but she couldn’t avoid him forever. She could get away with it here at the stables, as there was always so much to do, so much space to escape into, but the waffle shack wouldn’t provide much opportunity to get away.
Hazel buckled the bridle on Pebbles and checked its fit using her fingers to ensure it wasn’t too tight, particularly across his brow. The two kids in the lesson showed up, both already wearing their own hats, and Hazel gave them a brief look over to ensure they were dressed appropriately. She needed to see that they both had a boot with a bit of a heel so the foot didn’t slip through the stirrups, comfortable bottoms, and not too many layers on top, given the summer temperature. These were the real basics, or so you’d think, but some riders turned up in kit not fit for purpose – a few weeks ago, one girl had turned up in boots that did have a heel but were fashion boots and therefore totally unsuitable. Hazel had had visions of her foot slipping through the stirrup which brought with it dangers that didn’t even bear thinking about. The same girl had also been wearing a very long and baggy sweater over the top of a polo-neck, and loose clothing was yet another hazard – if the rider fell, it could get caught in the saddle and the repercussions of that were equally frightening.
Arnold took over from Hazel. He was great with kids, they both were, or at least she had been once upon a time, but he’d never lost his touch. He already had the young riders laughing at some joke about a horse she’d heard a hundred times before. It wasn’t the joke that made her smile, but the way Arnold could coax a kid out of their shell with a little bit of harmless banter, giving them a lift and a confidence for the lesson.
While Arnold got the session in the outdoor school underway, Hazel grabbed the wheelbarrow from inside the stable block and turned to go towards the indoor school, but not before she saw James pull up in the parking area. At least he hadn’t pulled up in front of the house this time.
‘Can’t stop, I’m afraid, got poop to pick up,’ she called over to him.
He jogged over, seeing she was in the middle of something. ‘I wanted to catch you, wondered if you could have lunch today. I’ve got something I want to show you.’ With another grin, he added, ‘Something you’re going to like.’
‘You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?’ She lifted the handles of the wheelbarrow and proceeded to turn and make her way towards the indoor school where she needed to go through shavings and clear up any wet patches or dung.
‘You’re too busy.’ She didn’t miss the sigh accompanying his words.
Hazel had asked James for time and space, but the more of that they had, the more she was able to take a step back and look at their relationship from a different angle. She’d never made her dedication to this place a secret, but she knew James would have no problem if she walked away tomorrow. And if he thought that way, he obviously didn’t understand how much Heritage View was a part of her. It didn’t matter that it was harder than before, that she’d come up against a challenge so huge it sometimes seemed insurmountable, it didn’t matter that she was struggling to be a fully operational part of this business like her brother, she couldn’t give it up. Not ever.
‘How are you?’ James asked, his voice loaded with enough concern for her to query the question.
‘I’m fine. Why do you ask?’ She set the wheelbarrow down and found the pitchfork that was leaning against the wall.
‘Arnold said you weren’t well a few days ago. I sent a few text messages and then called the office phone when you didn’t answer. Your brother told me you had a bug and you were staying in your room so you didn’t pass it on.’
‘Right.’ She remembered the text messages – she’d ignored them and then hadn’t had the energy to reply, and then not replying had been nice because he’d left her alone. She’d also picked up each of those texts wondering whether they were from Gus, disappointed when they weren’t. ‘I’m feeling much better, thank you. And no longer contagious, don’t worry.’ She’d have to thank Arnold later. He tolerated James, but he wasn’t her ex-boyfriend’s biggest fan, and she appreciated that he picked up on something happening with her. Arnold also knew his sister well enough to know that if she wasn’t talking about the specifics, it meant she didn’t want to.
‘If you can’t do lunch today, how about dinner tonight?’ James persisted. ‘Your local or we could head out to a restaurant.’ He kept his smart loafers away from the sawdust in the school or anything more sinister.
She pushed the pitchfork beneath a pile of damp sawdust and threw it into the wheelbarrow, leaving the patch clear for now so it could dry. ‘I can’t. I’m out tonight for a friend’s birthday.’
‘I’m away tomorrow,’ he said, ‘looking at that house I told you about down in Essex. The one with the paddocks attached,’ he added, when it was clear she had no idea what he was talking about. ‘That was what I was going to show you.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He sounded so disappointed, but she knew where his mind was going with this house and that wasn’t on the agenda. He had given her time and space and was now trying to leap three steps forward in their relationship when she wasn’t sure there was even a relationship to salvage. ‘I’m sure it’s beautiful, but we have been through this, James.’
‘Just see it, you might change your mind. This place is getting too much for you. You might well find that being away from Heritage View is exactly what it takes to turn things around. A fresh start.’
‘Running away, you mean.’
‘I’d describe it as moving forwards.’
‘This is my home.’ She jabbed the prongs of the pitchfork into the sawdust beneath her feet and leaned on the handle. ‘This is my life.’
‘This is your business and it’s doing you in. You never get sick, like never. And now you’re getting tummy bugs. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that it’s stress.’
More like the untold amount of alcohol.
‘I worry about you, you know that. I’ve seen guys at work burn out under stress and I don’t want it to happen to you.’
