Kate's Progress (22 page)

They came back a different way, describing a large circle, and when Kate found they were at the crossroads in Bursford, she said they might as well ride home to The Hall, and she would walk back from there.

‘Are you sure?’ Jocasta said. ‘It’s no trouble to ride up to your house – I don’t mind leading Chloe back.’

‘No, let’s take them home. I’m sure Chloe’s had enough of my great weight on her back.’

‘Pooh! You’re nothing. She can go all day.’

But Kate was feeling stiff, not having ridden for a long time, and thought the walk would do her good, loosen her up, so she insisted.

They didn’t ride through the main entrance but through a five-barred gate, half hidden in the overgrown hedge, which led by a curved track through the trees to the stable yard. It was mostly red-brick Victorian, evidently coeval with the house, but with the addition of a modern range of loose-boxes and a big equipment shed.

Jocasta jumped down and led Daphne towards the old stable, and jumped in surprise when Ed came out. She scowled. ‘You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re not supposed to be coming back until tomorrow.’

‘I got what I wanted to do finished. And I want to have some practice rides before the weekend,’ he said neutrally, and looked across at Kate. ‘You terrible child, did you make Kate ride Chloe?’ he said.

‘She didn’t mind,’ Jocasta said.

‘I didn’t mind,’ Kate confirmed, ever the diplomat. ‘She’s nice – once I got used to the short stride. It’s a long time since I rode a pony.’

He looked at her for a moment as if judging whether she meant it or not, then said briskly, ‘I promised to show you the stables. What better time than now? Jocasta, take the ponies and turn them out. You’d better give them both a small feed – Chloe because she’s old and Daphne because he’s racing at the weekend.’

‘How much?’ Jocasta asked, coming back to take Chloe’s reins from Kate, pulling Daphne behind her. She looked sulky.

‘One scoop of oats and two of chaff for Daphne, half that for Chloe.’ She turned away. ‘Don’t forget to brush out the saddle marks.’

‘I know, I know.’ She trailed off, leading the ponies towards the gap between the old and new buildings.

‘And then take the dogs out for a walk,’ he called after her. ‘They don’t look as though they’ve been out for two days.’

Jocasta muttered something under her breath that sounded like, ‘You spoil everything,’ and gave him a glower over her shoulder.

Ed watched them go. ‘You can’t imagine how it warms my heart to be welcomed back so enthusiastically,’ he murmured.

I’m
glad to see you, Kate thought, but didn’t quite like to say it. He looked at her and gave one of his little quirk-of-the-lips smiles, as though he had heard the thought. He looked tired, Kate thought. Worries of the world on his shoulders, of course – who wouldn’t be tired?

‘You surprised her, that’s all,’ Kate said.

He looked at her. ‘You don’t need to defend her. It wasn’t her fault her mother took her shopping in London as soon as I was out of the way.’

‘Oh,’ said Kate. ‘How—?’

‘I have my sources,’ he said.

She remembered the Brigadier saying ‘people tell him things’.

‘It was one of the reasons I came back early,’ he said. ‘Damage limitation.’
What a life you lead
, Kate thought. ‘Anyway,’ he said, in a brighter tone, ‘let’s look at the stables.’

They had a quick peep into the old block, which had six stalls, with the typical high wooden divisions with bars at the top, wooden hay racks and a cobbled floor. ‘It’s a piece of history,’ Kate said.

‘I think so,’ Ed said. ‘Jack was for pulling it down and replacing it when we decided to have some loose-boxes, but I said it should be preserved. There aren’t so many of them left around the country any more. So we added the new range on.’

‘I’ve always wondered about the bars,’ Kate said. ‘Did Victorian horses bite?’

‘Probably. I don’t suppose they were treated with such kindness and affection as nowadays.’

‘Why not?’

‘There were more of them, for a start. And they were looked after by grooms, not their owners. I expect grooms had their favourites, but the rest were just a job.’

‘How many horses do you keep?’ Kate asked.

‘Five, apart from the ponies. Two of the hunters are out already, and there’s a general riding horse who lives out most of the time. We’ve just kept the two up for the point-to-pointing, Graceland and Henna, but I suppose I should turn Henna out if Jack’s not riding her at the weekend.’

‘He said he might,’ Kate said.

‘He won’t,’ Ed said with certainty. ‘He’s not in the mood at the moment. He tends to ride by fits and starts. For a few weeks he’ll be out every day and taking it seriously, and then he’ll suddenly drop it and lounge about doing nothing and saying he can’t be bothered. He’s in can’t-be-bothered mode at the moment. Come and see the two in stables, anyway.’

As they crossed the yard, a head came out over the door of one of the boxes, and the horse nickered in greeting. It was a bay of about sixteen hands, big and handsome and fit-looking. It lowered its muzzle trustingly into Ed’s hands, then ran its lips over his head, and finally rubbed the side of its face up and down his sleeve, solving the problem of an itchy eye in the way Kate always thought was probably the true root of the relationship between man and horse. At some point in history horses had discovered what humans were good for, and the bargain was made.

‘This is Graceland – Gracie,’ Ed said with so much affection in his voice, Kate was suddenly glad there was someone he could love unreservedly. ‘He’s mine.’

‘He’s a big fellow,’ Kate said, stroking his neck.

‘Sixteen-two,’ Ed offered. ‘Seven years old, and jumps like a stag.’

‘He’s got a tremendous crest,’ Kate said. ‘I should think he takes some holding.’

‘Mouth like a kitten,’ Ed boasted. ‘I just wish I could be here all the time so I could ride him more. It’s one of the things I like least about going to London three or four days a week – leaving him behind.’

‘And you’re entering him at Buscombe? Are you going to win?’

‘Not really. He’s not experienced enough,’ he said, stroking the other side of the neck. Graceland stopped rubbing his eye and investigated Kate with his prehensile, rubbery lips to see if any part of her was good to eat. ‘I’d really love to have the time to three-day-event him. If I could be here all the time, running the estate, we could get into training. He’s got it in him to be a champion – haven’t you, Gracie? You could be a Badminton star, couldn’t you, old boy?’ His voice took on a note she had never yet heard in it. The horse regarded him with a kind and humorous eye.

‘It’s a shame to let your dream go by the board,’ Kate said, quietly, so as not to break the mood. ‘Do you really have to go to London?’

‘My business needs me at the moment. We’re expanding, and I have to keep a hand on the rein. And …’ He sighed instead of finishing the sentence.

She thought she knew what the end was. ‘It’s a break for you, I suppose,’ she suggested.

‘It’s nice sometimes to face problems you have the answers to,’ he admitted. She almost held her breath at this admission: he was letting her further into his confidence than she had any right to expect. What might he tell her next?

But Gracie stuck his nose up between them and blew out sharply, giving each of them a blast in the ear, breaking the mood. And there was a peremptory banging from the box next door. The other horse had belatedly cottoned on that there were humans about, had stuck its head over and was rapping the door with a forefoot.

‘Henna’s getting jealous. We mustn’t neglect her,’ he said, and led Kate over.

‘What a perfect name for her,’ Kate said. The mare was about fifteen-two, and a wonderful dark red-chestnut in colour, with not a white hair on her. ‘She’s very Rita Hayworth. I’d better not stand too near her – we might clash. Is she bred?’

‘Yes,’ said Ed. ‘She’s fast, and she has tremendous stamina. It’s a shame she’s so wasted.’

Henna was tossing her head up and down and swinging from foot to foot, and her investigation of their hands and collars was much more urgent than Gracie’s. She had all the classic signs of a bored horse.

‘She needs more exercise,’ Ed sighed. ‘We bought her for Camilla, but she hardly ever rides, so Jack took her over, but he doesn’t take her out regularly enough.’

‘Well, now you’re back …’ Kate suggested. An idea had formed in her mind, but she didn’t like to push it.

‘But I really need to be riding Gracie,’ he said. He stroked the mare’s neck, and then looked down at Kate as if it had suddenly occurred to him. ‘Would you like to go riding again tomorrow? But this time on a proper horse?’

‘You’d let me ride Henna?’

‘Don’t you think you’re up to it?’

‘I’d love to try her – but remember today was the first time I’ve ridden in ages.’

‘You obviously didn’t have any trouble. It’s like riding a bicycle.’

‘Not entirely,’ she said, laughing.

‘You know what I mean. If you do it properly and for long enough when you’re young, you don’t forget. Will you? A long ride, to get the fidgets out of their feet.’

‘I’d love to,’ Kate said, feeling her insides swoon with how much she’d
really
love to.

‘That’s great,’ he said, and then, ‘I won’t be taking you away from your work?’

‘I’m my own boss,’ she said. ‘I can take time off when I want. Though I don’t know if Jocasta will forgive me. I think she sees me as
her
friend and no-one else’s.’

‘Oh, she can come too,’ he said easily, and Kate cursed herself for having mentioned it. ‘She needs to get Daphne hardened up for Monday. We don’t need to go fast, so he’ll be able to keep up. We’ll do a long ride and lots of hill work and get some muscle on their quarters.’

Jocasta came trailing back from the field, laden with saddles and bridles which she dumped unceremoniously on the ground. ‘I don’t really have to take the dogs out, do I? Can’t they just run about in the field?’

‘You know it’s not the same thing,’ Ed said. ‘There’s no mental exercise in it.’ He picked up one saddle and started towards the tackle shed, so Kate picked up the other leaving Jocasta to gather the bridles. ‘I’d take them myself,’ Ed went on, with a hint of sympathy for the beleaguered child, ‘but I have to go and see Jacobsen about his sheep, and then I have to go over the estate books, which will take all afternoon, at least. Be a good girl.’

‘Oh all
right
,’ Jocasta said moodily, and then brightened. ‘Will you come?’ she asked Kate.

‘I have to go home and do some work,’ she said.

Jocasta thought rapidly. ‘Well, if you’re walking home, I can walk with you with the dogs, can’t I?’

Kate took pity. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘It’ll be nice to have the company.’

And as well as Jocasta’s instant joy, her reward was an approving look from Ed, who was obviously fonder of his half-sister than she appreciated, and was glad someone was being kind to her.

She went over to Kay’s at a quarter to six so they could get away by six. Darren had just arrived, having left work a bit early; Kay was rushing about like a scalded hen.

‘I’m all behind like the cow’s tail,’ she wailed. ‘Darren’s having a quick wash and changing his shirt, but I haven’t even brushed my hair and I’ve still got to feed the kids.’

The children were in the kitchen, sitting at the table ready, and there was a smell of fish in the air.

‘I’ll do it,’ Kate said. ‘What are they having?’

‘Would you? Oh, you are a love,’ Kay cried. ‘It’s fish fingers, beans and mash. It’s all ready, bar the serving up. I did you some too, seeing as you’re coming over so early. I didn’t think you’d’ve had time for tea. Fish fingers are in the oven, should be done now. And the kettle’s boiled, if you want to make yourself a cuppa—’

‘Come on, girl, get your skates on!’ came a male bellow from up the stairs.

‘Go,’ said Kate, making a shooing motion. ‘I’ll see to it.’

She was starving, actually. She served the fish fingers, baked beans and mash on to three plates and sat down at the table with the children while upstairs various bumps and scrapes attested to hasty preparation. Darren came down, put his coat on and stood by the front door jingling his keys. Kay appeared at last, looking flushed, one side of her jacket collar caught under and one side of her hair sticking up more than the other. ‘All right?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘Oh, you found the tomato sauce. Don’t let Dommie have too much. He just swamps it. And—’

‘Come
on
, Kay,’ Darren called, halfway out of the front door now. ‘We’ll be late.’

‘I can manage,’ Kate said. ‘Have a nice time and don’t worry about anything.’

And they were gone. The children carried on eating serenely. Dommie picked up a piece of paper from beside his plate and pushed it across to Kate. ‘I did you this at school yesterday, but it got squashed.’

It was a sheet of paper with some smears of paint on it, and two other odd shaped pieces of paper stuck on it for no apparent reason. One corner of the large sheet was torn off, and there was what appeared to be a muddy footprint across it.

Kate handled it gingerly. ‘What is it?’ She had noticed now that the word Mummy was written in wobbly letters at the bottom. The child was a chancer.

Dommie stared at her across a bulging mouthful of potato and beans as if she had asked a totally irrational question. Finally he swallowed massively and said, ‘Jason trod on it. When he fell over. Miss Cornish says we’re having a feel trip tomorrow. About weather.’

‘Whether what?’ Kate asked, distracted.

‘But only in the playground, cos of elfin safety. We have to be-tend.’

‘Pretend what?’

Dommie’s face became costive with effort. At last he started afresh. ‘Jason cut his chin. There was all blood.’

She realized she had lost the moment. ‘Don’t just eat potato and beans. Eat some fish finger, too,’ she said, noticing he had been concealing it under the mash and the sea of tomato sauce.

‘I
like
fish fingers,’ Hayley announced, a piece teetering on a fork towards her open mouth.