Keeping the Peace

by Hannah Hooton

  Pippa yawned and dragged herself to her feet.

  ‘Yeah. If I can keep awake for another half hour, I’ll be fine.’ She shut down the computer and threaded he arms through her coat.

  Jack waited by the door for her, ready with his keys.

  Pippa rubbed her hands together as she stepped out into the frosty night air then stopped while Jack switched off the light and locked the door.

  ‘Thank God that’s done now,’ he muttered as they walked to their cars.

  ‘Yes. Now we’ve only got tomorrow to deal with. I hope Tash can get the booklets to us in time.’

  ‘Yeah. I hope it doesn’t rain either.’

  They both looked up at the clear sky, alive with stars.

  ‘Looks promising,’ Pippa said. She rummaged through her bag for her car keys.

  ‘You did good tonight, Pippa,’ Jack said, his voice quiet. ‘Thank you for your hard work.’

  She grinned.

  ‘No problem. Thanks for your help too.’

  She unlocked the door to her Beetle and Jack held it wide for her as she stepped in.

  ‘Well, goodnight, Jack.’

  ‘Goodnight. Oh, and the picture in Reception? It’s very good, Pippa. You’re very talented.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said with a shy smile.

  Jack nodded and shut the door behind her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pippa pulled into Aspen Valley’s car park at eight o’clock the next morning, feeling surprisingly chipper considering her late night. As soon as she sat down at her desk, she telephoned Tash.

  ‘No problem,’ Tash reassured her. ‘Aladdin is running it right now. I made a couple of adjustments, but nothing serious, don’t worry. Should all be done in half an hour and the courier is on hold waiting for it.’

  Pippa hugged herself with her free arm and gave an exultant sigh.

  ‘Thank you, Tash. You’ve saved my arse.’

  ‘Any time. Got to go. Call me later and tell me everything.’

  ‘Will do. Thanks again. Bye.’ Pippa hung up the phone and smiled at Jack’s closed office door. He wasn’t in yet, but she gave him a nod of satisfaction all the same. She got up and walked out into the yard.

  Passing behind the far block of stables, she stopped to admire the billowing white marquee planted square in the middle of the lawn like a grounded spaceship. The horses whose stables opened out over this new spectacle looked on with interest at the dew-sparkling canvas flapping in the breeze.

  ‘Ready for the masses?’ a voice murmured in her ear.

  Pippa jumped.

  Finn grinned at her.

  ‘I think so,’ she said, recovering. ‘It looks lovely, doesn’t it, in the sunshine like that?’

  ‘To be sure. And with the walking paddock not twenty feet away we’ll be havin’ a right time of it parading these horses, so. Eyes out on stalks at this contraption.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ Pippa laughed. ‘I hope Peace Offering doesn’t make a fool of himself.’

  ‘Knowing him, he’ll be more interested in the sausage rolls ye’ll be serving.’

  ‘That reminds me. Last night, I was thinking of what you said about getting the owners drunk and thought it might be nice if we could serve them mulled wine. I was going to give the catering company a ring to see if they could do it.’

  ‘Good idea. The faster you get ol’ man Mardling plastered, the better.’

  ‘Mardling. That name rings a bell,’ Pippa mused, thinking back to the booklet.

  ‘So it should. He owns about a quarter of the horses here, including Virtuoso. Yer man, Jack is also walking round with Mardling’s daughter on his arm.’

  ‘Melissa? She owns Virtuoso? No wonder she’s so up her –’ Pippa stopped herself as Finn raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Go on,’ he cajoled.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said hastily. ‘It just comes across as her walking about with Jack on her arm rather than the other way round.’

  Finn laughed and wrapped his arm round Pippa’s shoulders and steered her back towards the office.

  ‘She’s a man-eater. Of that, we’re all in no doubt. She is her father’s daughter.’

  ‘What does Mr Mardling do?’

  ‘Ken Mardling makes money,’ Finn said with a shrug. ‘He owns a textile business which he netted back in the eighties and made a fortune out of through Indonesian trade. Melissa is a fashion designer.’

  Pippa was jolted by a stab of envy.

  ‘How lovely to design clothes all day,’ she murmured.

  Finn chuckled.

  ‘Don’t you be getting jealous of Melissa Mardling. She has everything she wants, but is no happier than the rest of us.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Aye. You ever seen her smile?’

  Pippa shook her head.

  ‘Not a proper smile anyway.’

  ‘And neither’ve I.’ Finn nodded discreetly to someone just rounding the corner of the yard. ‘And there’s himself so we’d best be leavin’ it there, so. Save me some smoked salmon snacks if there’s any on offer.’ He gave Pippa a friendly squeeze on the shoulder as they reached the racing office’s door and walked away, his bow-legged stride sprightly.

  Pippa leant against the cold brick of the office’s outside wall and watched him stop at a stable to scratch the eager occupant behind the ears. She turned as Jack approached, his shoulders hunched as he spoke into his mobile phone.

  ‘I understand, Lady Pennington, but Silver Dollar isn’t due a fast work today and we only have time to watch the faster ones...’ He raised his eyes heavenward as he passed Pippa and raised a finger in greeting before stepping into the office. ‘No, I can’t interrupt his programme by doing that. You’re welcome to come watch him do his next fast work –’

  Pippa followed him inside and grinned as he disappeared into his office with his fist clenched. ‘Yes, I realise you’re very busy...’ He shut the door behind him, muffling the rest of his conversation.

  By half past ten, the activity in the yard had doubled. The marquee company were back to finish setting up tables and chairs and the caterers had arrived with the buffet lunch and crates of glasses, plates and cutlery. After brief consideration, Pippa asked for a couple of long tables to be set up on the grassy centre of the stable block nearest the office and car park for welcome drinks to be served.

  She looked on with satisfaction at the rows of gleaming glasses catching the morning sunshine set out on the starched white tablecloths, awaiting their patrons’ arrival.

  ‘Pippa, can you give me a hand?’

  She turned to see Emmie, the stable lass, holding Peace Offering on the walkway. The horse’s flanks steamed and a sweat-darkened imprint of a saddle stained his bare back. Pippa walked over and held out her hand for Peace Offering to sniff.

  ‘Sorry. I know you’re busy,’ Emmie said. ‘Can you hold him for a sec while I check his back foot? I think his shoe is loose and I was just about to put him on the walker.’

  ‘Sure.’ Pippa took the knotted lead rope offered to her. Peace Offering blew warm breath over her hand and nudged her arm. She grinned, remembering how nervous she had been that first day they’d met. It felt like an eternity ago. She watched as Emmie ran her hand down the horse’s hindleg and he obligingly lifted it for her to inspect. Behind them, Pippa noticed one of the catering staff balancing three stainless-steel serving dishes in his arms on his way to the marquee. The young waiter could barely see over his load.

  Suddenly, he tripped.

  Pippa watched in horror as the dishes went flying. The crash resounded about the yard like a heavy metal band warming up for a gig. Her concern over the waiter was whipped away by Peace Offering, bounding forward in fright. Emmie sat down with a bump.

  ‘Oh!’ Pippa cried as the horse knocked her sideways too. Peace Offering threw up his head in alarm, whisking the rope out of her grasp and bolted. ‘Wait!’

  She watched helplessly as her horse galloped away. Despair turned to dread as she saw the di
rection he was heading for. The tables adorned with refreshments barred his way.

  Peace Offering checked his stride, the lead rope looping wildly about his head, and gathered himself for take-off.

  Pippa gasped as he arched over the neat rows of glasses and cups and saucers, folding his legs tight beneath him to avoid contact. She dug her nails into her palms, willing him to land clear. Her heart lurched as she saw the knotted end of the lead rope catch the underside of the table. The table flipped backwards. Amidst the shattering of glass, Peace Offering disappeared through a gap at the end of the walkway, his hooves skittering on the concrete as he escaped the chaos.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ wailed Pippa, running towards the wreckage.

  Emmie, climbing to her feet, followed at her heels.

  ‘Look at this mess,’ Pippa moaned, gesturing to the glass fragments carpeting the ground.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Pippa,’ Emmie said, her eyes wide.

  Speechless, Pippa looked at the girl then back to the debris.

  ‘It – it wasn’t your fault,’ she managed at last. Swallowing hard, she paused for another moment. Thankfully, the adjoining table bearing the jugs of orange juice, Pimms and mulled wine had stayed upright, albeit with a serious amount of spillage. ‘We’ve got to get this cleared up. And we have to find Peace Offering. Where’s Jack?’ She looked around warily.

  ‘Up on the Gallops,’ Emmie replied.

  ‘Good. Best place for him right now. Emmie, you go find Peace Offering. Make sure he’s all right. Billy? Tom?’ she called out to a couple of stable lads standing with their mouths agape. ‘Please can you help get this mess cleared up? I’ve got find us some more glasses.’

  Pippa ran back to the office, struggling to keep her calm.

  The woman on the other end of the line sucked her teeth.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Taylor. We can’t supply any more glasses. Not at this short notice. We’ve got other functions on today as well and we’re only a small company.’

  Pippa closed her eyes and dragged a hand through her discordant curls.

  ‘Not even a few?’ she asked, thinking they might be able to salvage some cups and glasses from the wreckage.

  ‘Not even a few, love.’

  ‘Okay,’ she sighed. ‘Thanks anyway and – um, sorry about the damage.’

  ‘Don’t worry. That’s why we charge you a deposit.’

  ‘Great,’ she said through gritted teeth, thinking of what Jack’s reaction would be. ‘Bye.’

  Putting down the phone, she snatched up her handbag and coat and dashed to the door. Billy and Tom were bent over in the middle of the yard with thick plastic grain sacks in their gloved hands, methodically dropping shards of glass and china into them.

  She raced as fast as her heels would allow towards the car park. As she wrenched open her car door, a familiar bay head appeared from around the corner of the hay barn. Beside him, with the lead rope loose in his hand, was Finn.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he said, frowning at Pippa’s ashen face. ‘I find this ol’ boy stuffing his face in the barn and now you flapping around like a chicken.’

  ‘Finn,’ Pippa breathed in relief. ‘I can’t stop, sorry. Peace Offering got loose and knocked over one of the tables. I’ve got to go find some more glasses from somewhere. People are going to start arriving any minute. Are there any other catering companies in Helensvale?’

  Finn chewed his lip then shook his head.

  ‘Not as such, I don’t think. Hang on, I’ll come with you. In fact –’ He paused, looking at Pippa’s VW Beetle. ‘– we’ll go in my car.’

  Relief gushed through her.

  ‘Aren’t you meant to be riding though?’

  ‘Not until later. Wait a minute while I get someone to take Peace Offering.’

  He set off at a jog with the horse, who danced beside him, his head held high and ears pricked, oblivious to the mayhem he’d caused.

  Pippa wavered by her open car door.

  Finn was back in seconds and he motioned her over to his mud-splattered Honda Civic.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We might get lucky with one of the pubs.’

  Pippa was thrown against the passenger door as Finn pulled out of Aspen Valley and put his foot down. The countryside rushed past her in a blur of greens, blues and browns. She closed her eyes and gripped the edges of her seat with clammy hands as Finn rounded a blind corner in the middle of the road. In contrast, the jockey lounged in his seat, his left leg bent nonchalantly against the gear box and his fingers tapping the wheel.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked, looking at Pippa and grinning at her stricken expression.

  ‘Just concentrate on the road, if you don’t mind,’ she replied.

  ‘We’ll be there in no time at all.’

  True to his word, they were soon upon the small town of Helensvale. With little traffic around, Finn pulled into a parking space right outside The Plough.

  ‘I’ll try here,’ he said as they reconvened on the pavement. ‘There’s an Indian restaurant a couple of doors down. The Moulin Raj. You go there.’

  Pippa nodded and hurried down the street, skipping over the uneven paving slabs. She pushed the door to the restaurant and nearly head-butted the glass when it stayed firmly shut. She groaned when she saw noticed the skewed Closed sign swinging from the window. Praying that Finn was having more luck than she was, she retraced her steps back to the pub, reaching the entrance just as Finn walked out.

  He shook his head.

  ‘They won’t do it,’ he said.

  Pippa’s shoulders slumped.

  ‘There’s nowhere else around here that I can think of,’ Finn went on. ‘Bristol is the nearest place.’

  ‘That’s miles away though,’ she said. ‘The Open Day is meant to start in less than half an hour!’ She looked around in desperation. On the opposite side of the road was the café she had visited on her first trip to the West Country.

  ‘The caff,’ she gasped, grabbing Finn by the arm and pulling him with her as she dashed into the road. ‘We can try there.’

  A jangling bell announced their entrance and Pippa recognised Wendy, the owner, look up from her stool behind the counter. With a grimace, the woman heaved herself to her feet and placed her hands wide on the linoleum tabletop.

  ‘What’ll it be?’ she said in a bored voice.

  ‘Well, this is probably a bit of an unusual request,’ Pippa said, wringing her hands. ‘But we were wondering if you might have any cups and glasses we could borrow – I mean hire – from you.’

  Wendy looked at her as if she had just requested a hot air balloon ride. She folded her arms across her chest.

  ‘This is a caff, love, not a caterers.’

  Pippa fixed her with pleading eyes.

  ‘I know. And we did have a caterers, but all the glasses got broken and now we’ve nothing to serve the owners drinks with. Could you help?’

  Behind Wendy, the gawky figure of Randy appeared, the paper chef’s hat lopsided on his head.

  ‘You ’avin’ a Greek party?’ Wendy said.

  ‘No, it’s the Open Day at Aspen Valley. One of the horses got loose and smashed through one of the tables. Please say you can help?’

  Wendy pulled a face.

  ‘How many cups are we talking here?’

  ‘As many as you can spare. We’re expecting about a hundred and fifty people.’

  Wendy’s bosom shook as she laughed.

  ‘Love, I couldn’t lend you that many even if I wanted to.’

  Randy peered over Wendy’s shoulder.

  ‘Ain’t you the Styrofoam cup lady?’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ Pippa said, resigned.

  ‘We just got a delivery of those type cups yesterday,’ he said.

  Wendy frowned at him, her arms still folded.

  Randy stepped forward.

  ‘We can let her have an ’undred and fifty of them, can’t we?’ he said to his boss.

  ‘Well, I suppose we could do that,’
she conceded. ‘But they won’t come free.’

  Pippa thought fast. Her options were limited, to say the least. She looked at Finn and swallowed.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, mirroring his nod. She opened her bag to fish out her purse. ‘Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you ever so much.’

  Jack pounced on Pippa the moment she walked back into the yard.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ he hissed. ‘People have already started to arrive.’

  ‘I can see that,’ she stage-whispered back, glancing at a well-dressed couple wandering along the stable walkway.

  She fumbled with the awkward tubes of stacked Styrofoam cups in her arms as she stepped into the office.

  ‘And what the hell are those?’ Jack said, following her in.

  ‘I’ll explain everything later.’ Her attention was caught by a messily-taped brown box sitting on the reception unit. ‘Please tell me those are the booklets.’

  ‘They arrived about five minutes ago,’ Jack nodded.

  Pippa let the cups roll out of her arms onto her desk and scooped out a booklet. The smell of fresh ink chemicals and gloss paper filled her nostrils. She stroked her fingers over the smooth red cover then flicked it open, scanning each page. She grinned at Jack.

  ‘Looks pretty good if I do say so myself,’ she couldn’t help gloating. ‘What do you think?’

  Jack still looked flustered and he threw a hand in the air.

  ‘Yes. Very good, Pippa. Well done.’

  ‘No need to look so pleased,’ she said, her pride dented.

  Jack looked at her, exasperated.

  ‘They’ll be no good to anyone unless we get them out there,’ he said, pointing to the door. ‘Come on!’

  Pippa kissed the booklet.

  ‘Thank you, Tash,’ she said, hugging it to her chest.

  ‘Ah, yes. Tash. She put this note inside for you, by the way,’ Jack said, his tone dry. He handed Pippa a compliments slip that had been lying beside the box.

  Here you go, Pip. I had to promise Aladdin a blowjob for this. You owe me, sweets. Tash xxx

  Pippa grinned.

  Jack shook his head.

  ‘I’m not even going to ask,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll explain another time.’ She lifted out more booklets from the box, balancing them against her chest.