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I tried not to let Jack’s words dampen my spirit, ignoring the sadness in my belly. I now knew with certainty my dream of this place was really over. I’d seen the letter, in black and white, the bank’s intention to repossess in twenty-eight days should a buyer not be found. The little girl in me cried out that I should take Carl’s generous offer and have this place as my own, but I’d never do that. I’d never swap my dream for one of his I may never be able to fulfil.
I called my boy, and he came running. I slipped on his collar and led him to the yard, and there were butterflies in my tummy to cancel out my hurt.
“Just us, Samson,” I said. “Our special time on our special day.”
I’d wanted to do this alone, determined to do it all under my own steam. My trailer was ready, all hitched up to the battered old brute, and his tack was soaped up and gleaming to perfection. I shampooed and brushed him down and braided his tail, fastened up his travel boots and loaded him up ready to go. He chomped on his hay, his ears pricked, and I bolted up the doors, taking just a moment to plant a kiss on his furry nose.
“I love you,” I said. I stroked his blaze and he butted me. It made me smile. “This is it, boy. Our big moment. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
He butted me again like he understood.
I took the drive slowly, but we still arrived with plenty of time to spare. I pulled up amongst all the other trailers, and there were riders everywhere in their fancy gear. I spotted Verity’s right at the end of the row, a huge gleaming lorry with the Faverley crest on the side. I caught a glimpse of Fleetwood Fancy — Verity’s prize mare — through the other horses warming up. Her mane was all braided, and she was in high spirits, restless as one of Verity’s minions walked her around. The prospect of beating her time seemed much more untenable here, a ridiculous pipe dream, but fuck it, we’d be going for it anyway.
I was unloading Samson when the guys arrived, and my mum was with them. She looked great — in a rich peach lipstick and a dark green summer dress, her hair bouncy and light. And so did, Carl and Rick.
In fact, they looked really fucking great.
“It’s not the races.” I laughed as I looked Carl up and down. His suit was impeccable, his hair too styled for a cross country course.
“Thought I’d make the effort. No law against looking smart, is there?”
I shook my head. “No, no law.”
“Only social conventions.” Rick elbowed him. “But we’ve never really taken much notice of those.”
“Thanks for coming,” I said, and kissed them both. I gave my mum a hug and she was quiet but smiling. “You’ve met, then?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Carl and Rick kindly picked me up this morning, so I can have a glass of bubbly when you come in first.”
I laughed, gestured across the field to Verity’s camp. “I doubt we’re up to that, but we’ll give it our best.”
“You can do anything,” Carl said. “Just give it your all.”
“Go Sammy!” Rick said, and gave Samson a hearty pat. But he was more interested in mints than encouragement. He dug his nose straight into Rick’s trouser pocket, and left a smear of horsey drool. “Cheers for that, boy.”
He wiped it down, tried to hide it with his shirt, but it made me laugh. “Teach me for dressing up,” he said.
“Teach you for bribing the horse with treats,” Carl said. He took a step forward and Samson didn’t flinch. “The beast likes me for me, Richard, not for cheap mints. We have a mutual respect.”
I rolled my eyes at my mum. “Horse rivalry.”
She didn’t say a word, but her eyes were happy. Maybe she liked them.
Maybe she even approved.
I could hope.
Verity was up in the listings early. I kept my distance as she took her position at the start of the course, nervous as I saw the Faverley posse out in force to see her off. My dad looked smart, almost as smart as Carl, and Olivia had a stupid purple hat on. Seb and Dommie were in slacks and jumpers, their hair all posh-boy ruffled. I made sure they couldn’t see me, ducking out of view as Verity’s name was announced over the tannoy.
Miss Verity Faverley riding Fleetwood Fancy.
Her brothers gave a cheer as she prepared to ride. The horse was already warmed up, she was raring to go, dancing on the spot, her head up high in Verity’s face.
They didn’t know each other, not really. Verity looked slightly awkward, her shoulders way more tense than they should have been.
A sliver of hope warmed me.Maybe, just maybe.
They took off like a rocket, the mare charging at a gallop right from the start. I held my breath as she took her first jump, a simple brush fence, and they cleared it easily. The horse had a beautiful pace, and a beautiful jump. She landed with ease and motored along and my heart dropped a little. I pushed it aside.
