Samantha Bassett
County Lines Rider
First published by Flamco Publishing 2020
Copyright © 2020 by Samantha Bassett
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Samantha Bassett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
First edition
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To all the equestrians, wherever and whenever they are.
May you ride on forever.
Contents
Sudden Death
I. JUST TRYING TO LIVE MY LIFE
1. A Life In Care
2. New Blood
3. Back Stories
4. Show Time
5. The Passage of Time
6. Meeting With a Gangster
7. Foster Care on The Farm
8. A Mucky Business
9. Missing Persons
10. Wooing a Groom
11. Presents From an Admirer
12. The Morning After The Night Before...
13. In The Dead of The Night
14. Questions And Answers
15. Fly Away
16. Go West
17. Seasons Greetings
18. The Sisterhood
II. A NEW LIFE
19. Safety in Numbers
20. Goodbye
21. New Ventures
22. Notes From a Stranger
23. A Change of Head
24. The Right People
25. A Matter of Money
26. Days Off
III. FATE OR FATAL
27. Consequences
28. Darkness
29. Reunion
30. Enroute to Fate
31. Calling The Cavalry
32. Arnside
IV. IMAGINATION OR REALITY
33. Forward Transitions
34. Drifting
35. Recovery
36. Cold Justice
37. Family Ties
38. Jump to it...
39. Waiting Time
V. A PERCEPTION OF LIFE
40. Pressing Charges
41. Change And Celebration
42. Wedding Bells
43. A New Reality
44. Epilogue
About the Author
Sudden Death
If I’d realised I was less than an hour from death I would have looked more closely at what surrounded me. Been more aware of what was happening. Drinking in last memories which would have to sustain me for a short lifetime. However, of course, we rarely get the benefit of foresight. Therefore, I approached oblivion unaware…
***
It had been one of those days. The rain had been falling, shortening tempers and leaving a collection of soaked clothes and sodden tack. Amanda stared out of the window of the living area of the horsebox, Adam, her brother dozed on the bench seat beside her.
He had done well, it had been one of his first shows and he had ridden well in the leading rein class. She smiled as she remembered the sight of him clutching a huge ice cream in one hand and a yellow Rosette in his other.
Amanda sighed, despite her first place Rosette which hung from baler twine above her head, she felt disappointed with the show, she had tried her best and had succeeded, pleasantly smiling at Hilary Temple-Jones who, in a fit of pique had thrown her expensive show ponies reins at her mother and stormed off. However, she felt that she had not achieved what she’d set out to do. The field had been small, many of the riders dropping from the class as the jumping arena had become slick with mud so her victory had seemed weak, somehow less of an achievement despite good times and clear rounds. She stared out of the window, watching the water running down the window, back to school tomorrow, the summer holidays and weeks of carefree riding and caring for horses on her mother’s livery yard would be at an end, back to the grindstone of academic achievement, looking for qualifications she knew that she could never obtain. If only it could just go away, allowing her to live her own life.
***
The truck driver yawned, he’d not slept well last night, their new baby refusing to sleep, screaming and crying into the early hours. He’d argued with his wife who had wanted to take little Jessica to hospital and had become almost hysterical. However, he’d calmed her down, Jess had a mild fever and a call to the emergency doctor had told them to keep her cool and keep checking her temperature. She had eventually fallen asleep in his wife’s arms just as he had left for the depot.
He’d been delayed during his day, a supermarket manager had refused to accept his delivery until he had finished his lunch break and traffic queues on the motorway, however, he was now eventually on his way back to the depot and then home. The cab clock showed that he was almost over his driving hours. He reached for his can of energy drink, his fingers slipping he dropped the can which rolled under the driver’s seat. He swore, glancing up the road was clear so he reached down, fumbling for the can. He could feel the steel with his fingertips, swearing he grabbed again the can slipping from his grasp. A sudden blast of a horn made him sit up sharply, he gasped, slamming on the brake pedal which jammed as the drinks can lodged beneath.
Amanda screamed as the horsebox lurched to the side before the massive thud, the living area shattering around her, the horsebox tipping, throwing her down. Adam was crying. They seemed to spin, before slamming to a stop. There was a sudden silence which seemed to go on for hours but was no more than a second before Adam’s cries and the stomping and sound of the horses behind them cut through the air.
Amanda shouted, pushing Adam down towards the door which was now beneath them. He tried the handle but the door was jammed, Amanda kicked at the door, slamming her riding boots into the lock and frame until it shattered allowing them to force their way out of the horsebox, there was little space as the vehicle was on its side. Amanda looked up, the road was above them, they were at the foot of an embankment. A burst of heat flared, knocking her from her feet, she scrambled to cover Adam, pushing him back.
Amanda struggled to her feet, walking towards the front of the horsebox, she gasped as she saw that the cab had been destroyed and was on fire. She tried to approach but the heat of the flames kept her back. She was grabbed by the shoulders, dragged back from the cab, she glanced back to see a woman grasping her, Adam was being comforted by another person. The sound of sirens above them cut through the air.
Amanda was passed to a police officer, who took her back, she struggled, fighting against the officers grasp as she was pushed into the back of the police car beside her brother. She slammed her fists on the window, screaming as she watched the thick black smoke rose from the side of the road, there was a sudden explosion and a blast of heat which she could feel through the glass.
She watched in horror, as smoke and flames rose from the embankment, gasping as she watched the three horses being led away by firefighters. She waited to see her parents, there were ambulances lined up beside the police cars and she and Adam were taken and attended to. Her questions were ignored, she was told that they would find out how her parents were, however, looks around and the nervous glances from the police and paramedics told them all she needed to know. She demanded an
answer, shouting and yelling until a female police officer sat her down, shaking her head and saying how sorry she was…
***
The scream caught in my throat, I awoke drenched in sweat, sheets across the floor, Breathing deeply, listening to the ticking of the clock on the bedside table and the snores of my roommates.
I
JUST TRYING TO LIVE MY LIFE
1
A Life In Care
“I am not telling you again.” The banging on the door intensified. “Right! You want to stay there, you stay there, but there’ll be no dinner for you, young lady.” I looked up at the closed bathroom door as the footsteps faded into the distance. Sighing I wiped my eyes. I couldn’t hide here forever, before long I would have to face the others, the wrath of Susan and her cronies. It wasn’t the physical harm I was scared of, I knew Susan’s fists would inflict only bruises, no worse than those inflicted during the hours spent at the stables. It was the humiliation, the constant erosion of my self-belief, to the point that I believed the words, the taunts. When you are told so many times you are ugly, stupid or worthless anyone would start to believe it was true.
The cold from the tiled floor seeped into my bones, I stood up slowly and looked into the mirror, this was me. My scruffy short brown hair, unlike some of the other girls, I didn’t spend hours brushing and finessing my hair, it was short so that it fits under my riding hat without fuss or a hairnet, I would spend hours plaiting one of the horses at the stables but my own hair was a second thought. My face was plain, I was not a ‘pretty girl’, again I could not see the point of lipstick and all the other bottles and tubes the other girls would spend hours applying to their skin just so they could look false. The horses I rode didn’t care what I looked like and nobody else would take the time to pay me any attention. My nails were clipped short with dirt beneath them. The other girls hated me, I didn’t fit it. I was dirty and smelly, even though I showered and kept clean. I guessed it must be jealousy, I was allowed, twice a week to go to a stable yard on the outskirts of the city and spend hours mucking out and grooming in exchange for a short ride on one of the riding school horses. That was my escape, the only place I could truly be me.
How I wanted to get away from this place, to escape the St Neots Residential Home. It would have been called an orphanage once, I suppose, but now such places hide behind different names. I knew the chances of me getting out of here were nigh on impossible, and, more importantly, I had to stay to protect my brother.
Yes, I would tell myself, I was treated this way because of something I had done and the only way to redeem myself would be to prevent Adam being bullied in the same way. This single thought meant I could cope with any provocation if it meant that he could get through the long days in the home safely.
The rumbling of the road outside brought sharply me back to the reality of where I was. I had been remembering my past life, the farm, the horses and the open air, by beautiful parents. Replaced with this, an inner-city children’s home, trapped beside a dual carriageway thronged with traffic day and night and nobody who loved me or who I could look up to. I missed the silence, the peace. Stolen moments riding my pony beneath the trees lining the of the fields, the long gallop along the top field and the view across the valley below. I missed love. That simple, pure feeling of belonging. It was all gone, in a nearly forgotten past.
A scraping sound, a creak and the bathroom door lock turned, the door slowly opening. I gasped as Susan stood in the doorway. Susan Percy, the tall and skinny ringleader who made my life hell. A permanent sneer on her pinched features as she looked down at ‘the country bumpkin’. I knew the other girls were as afraid of her as I was but craved her attention and would follow her wherever she went and do whatever she told them. There was no single reason for her hatred towards me, however, in the confined space of a care home others would lash out just to give them something to do, enjoying the feeling of adoration which stood in for the love they were missing.
“Hiding in here are you, bitch?” Sneering, she laughed, the other girls crowding into the room. “Thought a locked door could stop me?” Grabbing the showerhead, she switched it to cold and sprayed it across me, holding it in my face until I was gasping and spluttering, clothes soaked and breath short as I struggled to spit out the water I had swallowed. “You stupid bitch!”
Susan swung her leg back and kicked hard. I cried out as the blows rained down on me, first to my legs and then chest. Writhing in pain, resisting a reaction yet doubled in agony. The salty taste of blood in my mouth. I felt my hair being grabbed; my head swung back before it was smashed into the unforgiving porcelain of the toilet bowl. I slumped silently as the attack continued without me.
***
“You should have been watching her. She was left alone.”
I opened my eyes slowly, the voices cutting through the cotton wool and darkness in my brain.
“The stupid girl locked herself in, the door was still locked.” Oh, I recognised that voice, the shrill whine of Mrs Manderson one of the ones in charge and overweight, a wheezing tyrant who demanded total compliance. She was lazy, preferring to spend her time staring at her phone, presuming that all outside of her bubble was in good order.
“So, you left a venerable child overnight without checking on her and we only find out she had been attacked the next morning. For Christ’s sake Jean, how the hell do you think I am going to explain this to social services?”
I opened my eyes, the light was blinding, I lay blinking for a moment or two before looking around. A hospital ward. Immediately transported back to that night; a shudder went through my body. The accident, surly was in the past, this could not be happening again. I tried to speak but a mask muffled my words. I closed my eyes for a moment, just to rest, perhaps for just a second.
***
“Hello, Amanda?” I opened my eyes; the ward was quiet and a nurse was leaning over me. She was smiling warmly as she looked into my eyes. “Good, you’re awake. Haven’t you been in the wars?”
I paused, perhaps this was a war. It certainly seemed to be like that, I felt I’d had been injured in battle. My body ached, each breath caused sharp stabbing pains to cross my chest.
“How are you feeling? Here, let me give you some water.” She held up a glass. I sipped the cool liquid, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, looking down I saw my hand was wrapped in bandages. “You took quite a beating. Do you remember? You may have some concussion.”
I shook my head which lit more fireworks of pain. I grimaced. The nurse held out a small pot. “Here, take these, they will help with the pain.” Washing down the pills with a mouthful of water I closed my eyes, wishing the pain would subside. It seemed like a lifetime before I was able to drift into a fitful sleep.
***
“Amanda?” I woke with a start. Staring over me was Mrs Manderson. “Oh, you’re awake finally. Now, I want you to know that what you did was very silly. Locking yourself in the bathroom and then slipping and falling like that. You could have been seriously hurt.”
‘Slipping and falling?’ the thought crossed my mind. This was no accident, but it was clear that was how the picture was being painted. The closing of the ranks so that the management and staff get off Scot free.
“You are in a lot of trouble!” She snarled, shaking her head in disgust, no doubt at the fact that I had inconvenienced her by being in the hospital, there would no doubt be paperwork to complete and it would all be my fault, naturally.
I shook my head, the argument was pointless. Blame had been decided, the true perpetrators would be ignored. This was no longer an attack presuming a lack of care on behalf of the organisation but an ‘accident’ where I had created my own fate. I realised sadly that deviation from this agreed path would be denied, my word against that of the staff. I had been in this position before and knew to keep quiet if I didn’t want to have my life turned into a living hell.
“Yes, miss. I’m sorry miss.”
“Go
od. I’m glad that we have an understanding.” She coughed. “Now, I hate hospitals so I am going.” Turning on her heel she left the ward.
***
Days passed, one of the kindly nurses brought in copies of Horse and Hound when she discovered I loved horses. She would sit on the end of my bed and tell me of her mare, and how she was hoping to complete in local one-day events this season. It was an escape and I dreamed of having her life. Being free and not only with my own horse, but my own destiny.
I was leafing through the classified adverts in the back of the most recent edition, which she had dropped onto my bedside table while I had slept. I found an advert. ‘Groom Required for Busy Equestrian Centre’. I looked down at the promise of accommodation and training offered for BHS exams. The thought crossed my mind, did I return to the hell that was the care home or did I take my chances and bolt. It was a dream, but maybe, just maybe.
Leaning down I found the bag with my clothes; they were now at least dry. If I ran, I would have to leave my riding boots and hat at the home, but there were cheap and I could beg for an advance to get some more workwear. I had a few belongings, my only fear was Adam, could I leave him to flounder? Fearful of what would happen to him if I didn’t return. Sighing, I needed to return for him; it would be selfish to leave him. I put the magazine down.
***
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