‘You’ll have to promise you’ll stay with me, because the doctor is looking after him, and we mustn’t get in their way.’
‘I promise,’ she says.
‘This is Robbie’s daughter, Maisie, and his girlfriend, Flick,’ Neil says, ushering us through.
Some girlfriend I’ve turned out to be, I think, looking down at his upturned face as he lies on his back on a stretcher. He’s deathly pale, and there’s blood congealing at his temple. There’s a pulse at the side of his neck – I recall kissing him there, pressing my lips to that very spot. His eyes are open and staring as if he’s in shock, and I remember the shot of electricity that ran through me when we first touched, mouth to mouth. I want to throw myself down by his side and hold his hand and tell him everything is going to be all right. I want – no, I need to be with him. A tear trickles down my cheek. I brush it away.
The paramedics put a brace around his neck.
‘Clear the arena immediately. All non-essential personnel, please clear the arena,’ announces the commentator as the sound of a helicopter comes thrumming through the air.
My heart lifts a little because the people who can save his life are here, yet in the next breath I’m swamped with despair that he is beyond help. I watch his eyes. His eyelids flicker then grow still, taking me back to when he fluttered them against my cheek, like the kisses of a butterfly.
‘Flick.’ Someone – Neil, I think – gives me a gentle nudge. ‘We need to move. Can you take Maisie home, please? Sally Ann will go in the air ambulance if she’s allowed and I’ll drive to the hospital. We’ll keep Dillon updated with any news.’ He lets Maisie down, I grab her hand, and we run towards the collecting ring as the red air ambulance lands at the opposite end of the arena. Tripping across the grass, she sticks a finger in her ear at the rhythmic throb of the engine. The draught from the spinning propeller makes the flags flutter on their poles and a stray balloon jerks across the ground.
I turn to see the crew with a stretcher and kit, heading towards Robbie, and all I can do is pray that he’ll be all right.
‘Come on, Maisie, we have to go home and look after the horses. Paddington will be wondering where you are.’
When we return to the lorry, all the horses are loaded, including Diva, which is a relief and one less battle to fight.
‘What’s happening?’ Dillon asks me. ‘I heard the helicopter …’
‘He’s unconscious. He has a head injury, but they won’t know how bad it is until they’ve got him to hospital. I’m assuming they’ll do a scan.’
‘He’s hurted his head,’ Maisie says, reverting to baby talk.
‘Your dad asked me to take Maisie home. He and Sally Ann are planning to go to the hospital. From there, he’ll keep you updated with progress.’ Note that I say ‘progress’. I have to remain optimistic, for everyone’s sakes, because no matter how much the brothers have fallen out and in with each other, Dillon is clearly distraught. ‘Are you okay to drive, or should we find someone else?’
‘I’ll do it,’ he says firmly.
‘I’ll give you a hand with the horses when we get back.’
He runs his hands through his hair and swears out loud. ‘What happened? Robbie’s always so careful. If it wasn’t for that monster he bought—’
‘I’m not sure it was her fault.’ I touch his arm. ‘Let’s not play the blame game now.’ One of the horses starts kicking the inside of the horsebox. ‘Let’s get these guys home.’ I just hope that Robbie comes home too, and soon, so I can say everything I want to say. I don’t know what I’ll do, how I’ll ever recover if he doesn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Life is a Bowl of Cherries
It’s the longest evening of my life. Dillon and I feed and turn the horses out with Maisie’s ‘help’ on our return to the yard. They seem unconcerned by their stressed-out human carers. Most of them have a good roll before dropping their heads to graze. Diva stands quietly nibbling at the hedge and flicking the flies away with her tail as the sun begins to set behind the hills, hailing the onset of dusk that falls like a curtain on the day’s theatre.
Dillon and I spend a few minutes watching them. Maisie clings like a limpet to her uncle’s leg. Louise called when she heard the news through the family grapevine, offering to have Maisie for however long we wanted, but Maisie insisted on staying at home, and I couldn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t.
‘I’d better take you home so you can have tea and go to bed,’ I say. ‘Would you like to eat with us, Dillon?’
‘I’m going to meet Mum and Dad at the hospital. I’ll give you an update later, unless there’s any news beforehand.’
‘Give Sally Ann and Neil my love, and –’ my voice fractures – ‘make sure you tell Robbie I’m thinking of him.’
‘Will do,’ he says.
Maisie and I walk back to the cottage, holding hands. I unlock the door and push it open. Maisie turns the light on. There’s a jacket hanging over the banister. It’s Robbie’s. I reach out and touch it as I pass on my way to the kitchen, swallowing a lump in my throat at the realisation that he isn’t here.
I cope by keeping busy. I feed the dogs and hens under Maisie’s supervision and dig around in the freezer for chicken nuggets, chips and peas for dinner. I’m not hungry, but Maisie finds an appetite. We sit down on the sofa in the living room rather than in the kitchen to break the normal routine. Robbie likes her to sit at the table.
‘My mummy went to heaven when I was a baby. Is my daddy going to die?’ she says, as she squeezes ketchup on to her plate.
I choke on a chip and burst into tears.
‘It’s all right.’ She reaches out and rubs my back with the ketchup bottle. ‘Don’t cry.’
I take the bottle and make an excuse that I need to put it back in the fridge. Maisie seems to be dealing with the situation better than I am, but when I return to the living room, the dogs are staring at an empty plate on the floor, and she is curled up, sobbing into a cushion.
‘I really want to see my daddy,’ she cries.
‘Nanny is with him,’ I try to reassure her, but she won’t calm down until I call Dillon for an update. Even then, Maisie insists on interrogating him personally when he comes home after ten, way past her bedtime.
‘Thanks for dropping by,’ I say, offering him a mug of tea.
He sits down on the sofa with Maisie on his knee.
‘He’s had a scan,’ he says. ‘That’s all good – there’s no sign of any fractures or bleeding.’
‘That’s a relief. Is he awake?’ I ask.
‘Not yet.’ Dillon frowns. ‘That’s a bit of a worry. He’s still unconscious, but the consultant is optimistic for a full recovery. All we can do is wait and hope for the best.’
‘Are we going to cross our fingers?’ Maisie says.
‘That’s a good idea,’ Dillon says.
‘I’ll get Paddington to cross his hooves for Daddy too.’
I notice how Dillon’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down, not once, but twice. He clears his throat and gets up to leave.
‘I’ll let you know how he is in the morning. If you can look after Maisie, I’ll make sure the horses are fed and watered. We’ll do the minimum necessary until the new groom arrives on Monday to take some of the strain.’ He gives me a hug before he goes outside. ‘He’s going to be okay, Flick. My big brother is one of the bravest and toughest people I know.’
I hope so, I think, as I close the door behind him.
‘Maisie,’ I call softly. ‘It’s bedtime.’
‘Oh,’ she calls back, ‘I wanna make fairy-cakes.’
‘Another time,’ I say wearily.
Neither of us sleeps well, and I wake the next morning to find Maisie lying alongside me on top of my duvet. She has her thumb in her mouth and the unicorn tucked under her arm. I don’t wake her.
I go downstairs and sit in the kitchen with a mug of tea, and watch the chickens foraging through the flowerbeds. Neither of the
dogs eat their breakfast and both jump up with a low bark and trot through the hall when they hear a knock, only to be disappointed when they find Dillon, not their master, on the doorstep.
‘How is he?’ I almost fall out of the door I’m in such a hurry to find out.
‘He’s awake.’ Dillon is smiling. ‘He can remember everything except what happened at the show, but Mum says he’s very tired. He fell over when he tried to get out of bed, going against his doctor’s orders. I’m going to see him again this afternoon – they’ve said I can take Maisie for a short visit. I hope she isn’t giving you too much trouble.’
‘She’s no trouble. I’m just so glad he’s awake.’ I change the subject. ‘How are the horses?’
‘I’m leaving them out today. I’ll hitch the trolley to the quad bike to transport their feeds. The fields can wait.’
‘What about this afternoon?’
‘I’ll do them when I get back.’
I’m pleased to see that Dillon is stepping up.
‘I’d like to visit Robbie sometime soon. Can you let me know when it would be convenient? I don’t want to overwhelm him if he needs to rest.’
‘He’ll want to see you. Don’t worry. According to Mum, the first thing he did was ask after you and Maisie. The second was to ask when he could come home.’
When Dillon and his niece are out visiting the hospital, I wander out to see the horses. I take a wheelbarrow, mini-rake and scoop with me, thinking that I can clear a couple of the paddocks to save the new groom some work tomorrow. I decide to make a start with Rafa’s field. He wanders over to greet me and check out my pockets for treats. When he’s satisfied that there are none, he takes the handle of the scoop between his teeth and lifts it off the barrow.
‘I’ll have that,’ I say, smiling as I extract it from his mouth. ‘It’s kind of you to help, but I can manage.’ As I move along the hedge, poo-picking, Rafa walks with me, stopping now and again to nudge the handles on the barrow. I reach out and rub his neck. He turns his head towards me, lifts his front leg and lands his hoof in the front of the barrow, which tips forwards.
‘No!’ I exclaim, trying to wrestle it away, but it’s too late. It’s on its side with its contents spilled across the grass.
‘Thank you for your help,’ I say dryly. ‘Are you going to pick that up? Silly question. Of course you aren’t, when I’m here to wait on you hand and foot.’
As if contrite, Rafa moves up close and rests his chin on my shoulder. I reach my arm up around his face and lean back into his embrace, enjoying his warmth and the sunshine.
‘So you do still like me,’ I murmur, thinking of Robbie lying in his hospital bed. ‘Maybe you can learn to love us both.’
When Dillon returns to drop Maisie off, he lets me know that I’m welcome to visit Robbie the following day, before he rushes off to do some admin and make sure that the flat is ready for the arrival of the new groom and her fiancé. Maisie and I make fairy-cakes.
She dips her finger into the mix to taste it.
‘Daddy’s getting better, so why can’t he come home yet?’
‘Because the doctor has to say he’s well enough.’ I dampen a piece of kitchen roll and wipe a blob of sponge mixture from the tip of her nose. She screws up her face.
‘Will it be tomorrow?’ She picks up a wooden spoon and sticks it in the mixture so it stands upright.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Will it be the next day? Will it be the day after the next day? Flick, answer me.’
‘Maisie, I can’t, because I really don’t know. I’m a farrier, not a doctor.’
‘When Finn’s mummy wasn’t very well, he didn’t have to go to school.’
‘Miss Fox will miss you if you don’t turn up. Who will hand out the exercise books and number lines if you aren’t there?’
She ponders for a moment, leaning on the spoon, which suddenly slips, sending a substantial volume of the sticky mix splattering across the table and on to the floor.
She laughs out loud. ‘Don’t worry. The dogs will lick it up.’
‘I’m worried that there won’t be enough left to fill all the cases in the tin.’
‘We can make some more.’
‘I think we’ll make do with what we’ve got. I shouldn’t eat too much cake.’ I pat my stomach.
‘Are you getting fat?’ Maisie asks.
‘No, I don’t think so. Come on, keep stirring. What shall we add next? Chocolate chips or glacé cherries?’
‘Both,’ she says. ‘Do you love my daddy?’
I stop halfway through emptying the packet of chocolate chips into the bowl. What kind of question is that?
‘Lots of people love your daddy,’ I say diplomatically. ‘Your granddad, and Nanny, Dillon …’
‘What about you? Are you going to marry him?’
I shake my head. ‘I have no plans to get married.’
‘I’ll ask him to ask you when he’s better,’ she says.
‘There’s no need to do that, thank you. It isn’t up to the man to propose. If I wanted to get married, I’d ask him.’
Her eyes widen like saucers and I realise that she’s jumping to the wrong conclusion.
‘Maisie, I’m not going to marry your dad – or anyone else, for that matter. Is that clear?’
She pops a chocolate chip into her mouth and nods.
The rest of the day passes quickly. I make sure that Maisie’s uniform is washed and ironed, and that she’s done her homework. We ice the fairy-cakes and add pink sprinkles that Sally Ann drops round, having torn herself away from the hospital for a few hours. Maisie decides that she’ll sleep in her own bed, which means that we both have a good night and feel refreshed in the morning.
I drop Maisie at school, promising Miss Fox that I’ll pick her up if she becomes distressed about her dad being in hospital, and then I return to the yard to find Dillon showing the new groom around. He introduces me to her. She seems friendly and I warm to her straight away. Although she’s petite at no more than five foot tall, she has a presence that even Diva respects. As we’re talking, my mobile rings.
‘I’d better take this,’ I say, apologising. ‘Hello?’
‘Good morning. Is that Flick?’
It takes me a moment before I recognise Delphi’s voice.
‘It is.’
‘I’ve heard that you’re taking on new clients and, as I can’t pin Mel down to a time to come and shoe my horses, I wondered if you’d be happy to take over with immediate effect.’
‘Well, yes, I’d be delighted. Would you like to make an appointment?’ I put the mobile on loudspeaker and open the diary.
‘Today would be useful.’
‘Today? How many?’
‘There are two whose shoes are falling off, and another three that I’d like done by the weekend.’
‘Let me do the two urgent ones this morning and we’ll go from there.’ I’m keen to build up my business, but visiting Robbie is my priority.
I shoe Delphi’s horses, two of the riding school ponies, and drop back to the cottage to shower and change before I drive to the hospital in the van.
A nurse waves me through the ward to Robbie’s hospital bed, where he’s sitting propped up against a couple of pillows. His face is pale, his hair messed up, and he has a purple bruise on his temple. He looks drawn and exhausted, yet my heart skips a beat at the sight of him and my chest hurts as if I’m about to go into cardiac arrest. Even though it’s been less than forty-eight hours since I last saw him being airlifted from the arena, I’ve missed him more than I can say.
‘Hello,’ I say, unsure what his reaction will be.
‘Hi, Flick.’ His expression brightens. ‘Thanks for coming to see me. I’m bored out of my skull. Maybe not the most appropriate comment for someone on the Neuro ward, but never mind.’
‘At least you still have your sense of humour.’ I pull up a chair and sit down. ‘How are you?’
‘Much better for seeing you.’
Mindful of what Dillon said about his memory, it occurs to me that he might not recall what passed between us in the days before the show.
‘I wish I hadn’t put everyone through this,’ he goes on. ‘My parents seem to have spent almost every minute here at the hospital. Did you see me hit the deck?’
‘Maisie and I were watching. We saw everything: Diva bolting from the arena; Dr Nicci rushing to your side; the air ambulance.’ I shudder at the memory. ‘Can you remember what happened?’
‘Not much. I’ve gleaned some of the details from other people.’
‘I’m sorry if I had anything to do with it … if I contributed in any way.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I thought maybe … well, you were upset because we fell out the night before. I wondered if that had made you less careful.’
‘I admit I was preoccupied. I didn’t take a moment out to prepare because we were running late, what with Diva not loading and then the incident with the shoe. I didn’t have time to breathe, empty my mind, and visualise the performance like I normally do. It sounds odd, but it does work.’ He pauses. ‘Please don’t blame yourself. I made an error of judgement by including Diva in the team, especially as I was expecting her to fill Nelson’s shoes. It was too soon. I’ve been lucky, though. I’m still here.’
‘Thank goodness,’ I sigh.
‘I’ve been waiting for you, even though I didn’t really think you’d turn up. You didn’t have to.’
‘Hey, don’t worry about it. I wanted to.’
He reaches out and touches my hand and the familiar surge of electricity darts between us. It’s still there – I look into his eyes; I guess it always will be.
‘I’m sorry,’ I repeat.
‘As I’ve said, it’s entirely my fault. I knew I was under par, but I wanted to impress the TV people. Have there been any calls, or messages? Has Dillon heard anything?’
‘He would have said if he had,’ I respond as Robbie goes on, ‘I should have been able to put the personal stuff aside that day.’ He smiles weakly. ‘It just shows what a wreck I am when I think of not seeing you again.’
‘But you will see me. Robbie, I don’t think this is the best time or place to discuss it but, suffice to say, I’ve had second thoughts about leaving. I wanted to talk to you about it, but you didn’t come back from Dillon’s that evening, and you weren’t exactly in a receptive mood on the morning of the show.’
Springtime at Cherry Tree Cottage Page 33