Zaza and Tony continued their walk alone, leaving David and Sofia to saddle up the horses and embark on a long ride that wouldn’t see them back before sundown. As Sofia and David cantered over the Cotswolds Sofia felt as if a constricting weight had been lifted off her chest. She was able to breathe again and she drank in large lungfuls of air. Her mind cleared; suddenly she knew who she was, she knew where she belonged. She felt she had come home, riding up there on those hills, able to see for miles the patchwork of fields and woods that undulated out before her like a rough sea of green. She smiled again; not just on the outside but she smiled broadly and genuinely on the inside. Her whole body was injected with an energy, a high she hadn’t felt since she had last been at Santa Catalina.
David noticed the change in her immediately. Like an actor in a play she had discarded her costume and revealed the real person beneath. By the time they shut the stable doors and hung the tack up in the tackroom they were laughing like old friends do, from the pit of their bellies.
Chapter 26
As Jake drove Sofia back to Queen’s Gate she reflected on David’s offer.
‘I would dearly love to get this place going again,’ he had said, referring to the stud. ‘You obviously have a good understanding of horses. My ex, Ariella, bred racehorses. She produced top-class yearlings. When she walked out, that was the end of that - I sold them all except for Safari and Inca. I’d pay you, of course, and hire anyone you required. You wouldn’t have to be stuck in the country all week, you could oversee it. The place is dead without people looking after it. It’ll go to ruin before too long and I’d hate to have to sell the horses.’
Sofia recalled his phlegmatic tone. He was matter-of-fact, yet there had been a warmth in his expression. She found herself smiling as she remembered him. It was a nice idea but Jake would never allow it; he wouldn’t want her to work out in the country. He was way too possessive, but Jake was all she had.
By April the play had been running for a couple of months when Sofia opened the door to Jake’s dressing room to find him screwing Mandy Bourne, his leading lady, up against the wall. He had pulled down his trousers and what later stuck in Sofia’s mind was his white bottom thrusting aggressively against a dishevelled, sweaty Mandy still in eighteenth-century costume. She had even stood there for a couple of minutes before they had noticed her. Mandy was grunting like a hungry pig, her face twisted into an expression of pain, but Sofia took it that she was enjoying it by the mewing sounds she made between grunts. Jake was murmuring, ‘I love you, I love you,’ in time to his thrusts and appeared to be arriving at the moment critique when Mandy opened her eyes and screamed. Jake buried his face in her flabby breasts and exclaimed, ‘Christ!’ when he saw Sofia standing stiffly in the doorway. Mandy had fled in tears.
There was no apology, no penitence. Jake had blamed Sofia, saying he had only slept with Mandy because he was unable to get through to her. ‘You don’t love me!’ he had shouted accusingly.
Sofia had responded coolly, ‘I have to trust you first.’
When she left the theatre that night she did so for the last time. She never wanted to see Jake Felton again. Picking up the telephone she hoped that David Harrison would remember the offer he had made back in February.
‘You’re leaving us?’ cried Anton in despair. ‘I can’t bear it!’
I’m going to set up a stud farm for David Harrison,’ she explained.
‘Devious man,’ Maggie snarled, drawing on her cigarette.
‘Oh Maggie, it’s got nothing to do with that. Though, you were right about Jake Felton. Men-who needs ’em!’
‘Ooh no, you’re out of date! Maggie’s taken a lover, haven’t you, duckie? A client. I think her Maggie dust may have worked after all.’ Maggie grinned a self-satisfied smile.
‘Well done, Maggie. Oh God, I’m so sad to leave you all,’ Sofia waited, ‘but I won’t be down at Lowsley all the time. We’ll keep in touch.’
‘You’d better. Anyhow, we’ll hear all the gossip from Daisy. Just don’t forget to ask us to the wedding.’
‘Maggie,’ laughed Sofia. ‘He’s too old.’
‘Careful, I’m in my forties too, you know,’ she replied, then added throatily, ‘We’ll see.’
Daisy was devastated that she was going. Not only because she would miss her friend, but also because, if things worked out for Sofia, she’d have to find someone else to share the flat with. She didn’t want to share with anyone else.
She and Sofia had become as close as sisters.
‘So if you like it, you’ll just move down there permanently?’ she asked, horrified at the thought of being stuck in the country, however luxurious the house was.
‘Yes, I love the countryside. I miss it,’ said Sofia. Lowsley had awakened her dormant senses to her affinity with nature; now the smell of the city appalled her.
‘I’ll miss you. Who’s going to do your nails now?’ Daisy asked, pushing her bottom lip out grumpily.
‘No one. I’ll bite them again.’
‘Don’t you dare, just when I’ve got them looking so pretty.’
‘I’m going to be using my hands for farmwork, so I won’t need pretty nails any more,’ laughed Sofia happily, anticipating days filled with horses and dogs and those endless green hills. The two girls embraced.
‘Don’t forget to call often and visit occasionally. I don’t want to lost touch,’ said Daisy, wagging her finger at her friend to hide her sadness. Sofia was used to leaving places, leaving people, making new friends. She was accustomed to it by now. She had taught herself to switch off her emotions in order to avoid
hurting so she promised Daisy that she would call weekly, then she left, moved on. Like a nomad she looked ahead to the next adventure without dwelling too much on the human ties she was leaving behind.
Once Sofia was happily installed in a small cottage at Lowsley she realized she wouldn’t be sad at all if she never went to London again. She had missed the countryside more than she had realized and now she had found it again she never wanted to let it go. She spoke to Daisy most days on the telephone and laughed at the latest gossip from Maggie’s. She didn’t have much time, though, to think of her old friends. She was too busy setting up David’s stud farm. He had said she could ‘oversee’ it. She had no intention of‘overseeing’ it. She wanted to be as involved as possible and what she didn’t know she would learn.
She found out from Mrs Berniston that when Ariella had walked out, they had had to close down the stables, making Freddie Rattray, known as Rattie, redundant. Rattie had been the stud manager, looking after the foals and running the farm. He was an expert, Mrs Berniston informed her. ‘You won’t find a better man than Rattie,’ she said.
Sofia wasted no time in tracking down and hiring Rattie and his eighteen-year-old daughter Jaynie, with the help of Mrs Berniston who used to write regularly to Freddie’s late wife, Beryl. As Beryl had recently died, Freddie was anxious to come back to Gloucestershire and take up his old life.
When David came down for the weekends he was greeted by Sofia’s wide smile and infectious sense of humour. She always wore jeans and a T-shirt, often with the old beige jersey of his that she had borrowed and never returned, wrapped around her waist. The country air had changed her complexion; it now glowed with rude health and she let her long glossy hair fall about her shoulders rather than tying it back like she used to. Her eyes shone and her irrepressible energy made him feel younger in her presence. He looked forward to his time with her and felt heavy in spirit when he had to leave for London on Sunday evenings. He was pleased that she was making progress with the help of Rattie, whom she adored. ‘He’s so English - he’s like a garden gnome from a fairytale,’ she said.
‘I don’t think Rattie would be very pleased with that description,’ David chuckled.
‘Oh, he doesn’t mind. I call him “the gnome” sometimes and he just smiles. I think he’s so happy to be back, I could call him anything.’
Rattie was
also a keen gardener and David was astounded by the transformation of his grounds in the short time he had employed them. Sofia was tireless. She awoke early and made herself breakfast in the big house as Mrs Berniston, who came three days a week to cook and clean, suggested she might as well use Mr Harrison’s kitchen as the fridge was always full. Then she would take one of the horses for a ride across the hills before starting the day’s chores in the stables.
Rattie knew everything about horses and she had a great deal to learn. As a child at Santa Catalina she hadn’t even been required to put a saddle on a horse as everything was done for her by the gauchos. Rattie teased her, saying she was spoilt and he’d bring her down to size and she told him that he was only there because of her, so he should treat her with more respect. With his crooked smile and wise face he reminded her in a small way of Jose. She wondered whether Jose missed her, whether Soledad’s gossip had reached him, whether he thought less of her.
Under Rattie’s guidance they bought six top-class mares and hired two grooms to work with his daughter, Jaynie. ‘It’ll take time to get the place up and running,’ he warned Sofia. ‘The breeding cycle is eleven months, you see,’ he said, wrapping his leathery hands around a cup of steaming coffee. ‘Autumn is the time to look for stallions for our mares, stallions with good pedigree and conformation, you understand?’ Sofia nodded. ‘You want top-class racehorses, you need top-class stallions.’ She nodded again with emphasis. ‘In August and September you put in an application for a stallion - we do this by using a bloodstock agent. He’ll negotiate with the owner of the stallion for a nomination. Now I’ve been out of it for a few years, but Willy Rankin used to be my man and I believe he still is.’ He slurped another gulp of coffee. ‘January the fourteenth is the start of the season. That’s when we take the mares off to the stud until they’re scanned in foal.’
‘When do they have their foals?’ Sofia was trying to ask sensible questions; it all sounded rather more complicated than she had expected. She was glad Rattie knew what he was doing.
‘From February to mid-April. Now that’s a magical time. You really see nature working right in front of your eyes.’ He sighed. ‘Right in front of your very eyes. Ten days after the foal is born and healthy, both foal and mare go back to the stallion.’
‘How long do they stay there for?’
‘Anything up to three months. Then once she’s back in foal again we bring them home.’
‘When do we sell them?’ she asked, filling up the kettle and putting it back on the Aga.
‘This takes a lot of learning, doesn’t it?’ he chuckled, noticing that she was growing tired of the details. ‘A far cry from your life on the - what do you call it? Pampa?’
‘The pampa, Rattie. You’re right, though - I never did anything like this,’ she added humbly, opening the jar of coffee granules.
‘Well, if you love horses like you do, you’ll soon learn,’ he said kindly. ‘Now in July, there’s a lot of work getting the yearlings ready for the sales. You’ll enjoy that time. Walking them out every day, teaching them how to wear a bridle, that sort of thing. Then the people who run the sales will come and inspect our yearlings to see if they’re suitable for the top sales. The sales take place in October in Newmarket. Now that will be interesting for you. I think you’ll enjoy that,’ he said, handing her his empty cup to refill. ‘I’ll teach you everything I know, but you can’t learn sitting here at a kitchen table. The learning’s in the doing, that’s what my father always used to say. “Enough talk, more do,” he said. So, I’ll stop talking now and we’ll do. Is that all right with you, young lady?’ he asked as she handed him back his cup, now full of thick black coffee, just the way he liked it. ‘Lovely,’ he said, taking it from her.
‘I think that’s just fine, Rattie.’ Sofia didn’t care so much for the details; as long as she was working with horses she felt at home.
The summer passed quickly. Sofia had made it to London only once. Maggie and Anton were furious with her at first and it had taken a lot of flattery to coax them out of their sulk. She had stayed only for an hour, as she was anxious to get back to her horses. They were grateful for her visit, but felt her slipping away and that saddened them.
By September David had begun to spend more time down in the country. He created another office in the study and hired a secretary to work part-time there. Suddenly his home had come alive again, vibrating with the voices of people and animals. But if David was honest with himself he had fallen hopelessly in love with Sofia and could hardly bear to be away from her. That was the reason he had hired her. He hadn’t cared what she cost; he’d have paid any figure she’d asked. Employing her was the only way he could see her without courting her - and he was realistic enough to know that by confessing his
feelings he’d only scare her away. As it was, twelve pounds a week and free board in the cottage was nothing compared to what he wanted to give her, which was a new name and everything he owned.
Sofia was delighted that David had decided to spend more time at Lowsley. He brought the dogs with him, Sam and Quid, who followed Sofia around all day, their adorable clown’s eyes smiling at her lovingly. They spent long evenings walking in the garden talking, watching the long summer shadows shorten into autumn until the days began to recede and the nights close in. David noticed that she never talked about her home and he didn’t ask. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t curious; he wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to kiss away the troubles that he could feel simmering beneath her smile. In fact, he wanted to kiss her every time he saw her and yet he didn’t want to frighten her off. He didn’t want to lose her. He hadn’t been this happy in a long time. So he never tried. Then just when Sofia was succeeding in forgetting about her past someone arrived at Lowsley to remind her of it.
David hadn’t had a house-party weekend since the summer. He had been happy to be alone with Sofia, but Zaza had suggested she might be longing to meet people her own age. ‘She is a very attractive young woman. Some man will snap her up before you know it. You simply can’t hide her away,’ she had said, without realizing how much her words had hurt him.
David watched Sofia as she rushed about the estate and thought how happy she looked. Hardly the expression of someone aching to meet other young people. She seemed content with the horses. But Zaza had insisted, dismissing him with the words, ‘It takes a woman to understand a woman.’ After all, he was more or less twenty years her senior, hardly the right company for a girl of her age.
When Zaza and Tony introduced him to Gonzalo Segundo, a swarthy, unusually tall Argentine polo-playing friend of their son, Eddie, David took the hint and invited them all for the weekend. He hadn’t anticipated Sofia’s reaction.
‘Sofia Solanas!’ exclaimed Gonzalo, when they were introduced. ‘Are you any relation to Rafa Solanas?’ he asked in Spanish. Sofia was stunned. She hadn’t spoken Spanish for a long time.
‘He’s my brother,’ she replied hoarsely. Then took a step back as the sound of her own voice speaking her mother tongue brought all those suppressed memories clattering about her head like a falling pack of cards. She went pale
before running out of the room in tears.
‘Was it something I said?’ asked Gonzalo, perplexed.
It wasn’t long before David knocked on her door.
‘Sofia, are you all right?’ he said softly, knocking again. She opened the door. David walked in followed by Sam and Quid who sniffed anxiously at her ankles. Her face was wet from crying and her eyes were bloodshot and furious.
‘How could you!’ she shouted. ‘How could you invite him down here without asking me!’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sofia. Calm down,’ he said firmly, trying to place a hand on her arm. She swiftly withdrew it.
‘I will not calm down,’ she retorted angrily. David closed the door behind them; he didn’t want Zaza listening to this. ‘He knows my family! He’ll go back and tell them about me,’ she sobbed.
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‘Does that matter?’
‘Yes! Yes, it does matter!’ she snapped and walked over to the bed. They both sat down. ‘It matters very much to me,’ she added quietly, blinking away the tears.
‘Sofia, I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me. You can’t expect me to know if you don’t tell me. I thought you’d like to meet someone from your country.’
‘Oh David.’ She gulped and threw herself against his chest. Slowly he put his arm around her. She didn’t flinch or push him away so he sat there and held her. ‘I left Argentina three years ago because I had an affair with someone my parents disapproved of. I haven’t been back since.’
‘You haven’t been back?’ he repeated, not knowing quite what to say.
‘I fought with them. I hate them. I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family since then.’
‘You poor old girl,’ he said and found himself running a hand down her hair. He was too afraid to move in case the moment was ruined.
‘I love them and despise them. I miss them, try to forget them. But I can’t, I just can’t. Being here at Lowsley has helped me to forget. I’ve been so happy here. And now this!’
David was mystified when she began to cry again. This time violent sobs vibrated out from deep within her being. He held her close and tried to comfort her. He had never seen anyone as miserable as Sofia was at that moment. She was crying so hard she could scarcely breathe. David panicked, he wasn’t very
good at this sort of thing and thought that perhaps a woman would be better equipped. But when he got up to fetch Zaza, Sofia held onto his jersey and begged him to stay.
There’s more, David. Please don’t go. I want you to know everything,’ she pleaded. Then she sheepishly told him about Santi’s betrayal and about Santiguito, omitting that Santi was her first cousin. ‘I gave my baby away,’ she whispered hopelessly and looked at him steadily. Falling into her stricken eyes he felt her pain. He wanted to tell her he’d give her children, as many as she wanted. He’d love her enough to match the love of her entire family. But he didn’t know how to tell her. He pulled her into his arms and they sat in silence. In that tender moment David felt he loved her more than he thought it was possible to love anyone. When he was with Sofia, he realized how lonely he had been. He knew he could make her happy.
Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree Page 32