Reckless Runaway at the Racecourse

by Ros Clarke

  ‘No, really?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Luke’s heroic rescue, you mean?’

  ‘Quite. Pour me a glass of sherry, will you, Luke? I expect young Felicity would like one too.’

  At least no one was expecting him to make conversation, Luke thought resentfully, as he listened to Fliss and his father bursting into yet more laughter at some stupendously obvious innuendo. She had turned on the charm in full force, regaling his father at length with her wildly exaggerated account of the events of Chrysanthemum’s race. She’d even managed to make her former boss into a comic figure.

  They had both enjoyed mocking him when Fliss explained how Marshmallow had come by her name. His father insisted on meeting the kitten, and nodded knowingly when Luke pointed out that she was only staying at the yard temporarily.

  Fliss had turned out to be a surprisingly good cook. Luke had no idea how she had managed to conjure up a full roast dinner out of the scratch ingredients he kept in the fridge. She’d even made a sponge pudding and custard. It was hardly sophisticated, but it was warm and light and utterly delicious.

  It was nothing like the Sunday dinners he’d endured as a child. His mother had insisted that Sundays were her day. She made Luke and Thomas clean their nails and wash behind their ears and make sure that there wasn’t the slightest hint of horse manure about them. Everyone had to wear clean uncomfortable clothes, and lay the table with white napkins and far more knives and forks than they could possibly need, and sit around making dull conversation for hours.

  Fliss’s idea of a Sunday lunch was apparently a table piled high with food and everyone making rude jokes.

  Luke picked up the wine bottle and offered his father a top-up.

  ‘Better not,’ Thomas said, with a wink at Fliss. ‘Already over the limit, I expect.’

  Luke tilted the bottle towards Fliss’s glass. ‘You’re going back on the train,’ he pointed out.

  ‘No limits for me, then.’ She picked up her glass and let him refill it.

  ‘No.’ Luke poured the rest into his own glass.

  ‘Back to the office, hmm?’ Thomas asked Fliss.

  She shook her head. ‘No. I lost my job after what happened yesterday.’

  ‘She has to get back to her flat,’ Luke interrupted. ‘And go to her temping agency tomorrow to find a new position.’

  ‘Besides,’ Fliss said with a wicked grin, ‘I haven’t got any clean knickers with me.’

  Thomas roared with laughter. ‘I’m sure Luke has a washing machine.’

  ‘Ah, yes, but does it have a delicates cycle?’

  He couldn’t bear another moment of their banter. ‘I’m sorry to break up the party.’ Luke stood up, pushing back his chair. ‘But I really do have work to get on with.’

  ‘Still no secretary?’ his father enquired. He was about as subtle as Fliss, Luke thought resentfully.

  ‘No need. I’m managing perfectly well without one.’

  ‘You never mentioned that you need a secretary,’ Fliss said.

  Luke glared at her. ‘Because I don’t.’

  She shrugged. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Fine.’ He took a calming breath. ‘Thanks for lunch. Don’t worry about the washing-up, I’ll do it later. Call a taxi when you’re ready.’

  ‘Luke?’

  He paused, one hand already on the door handle. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Thanks for everything.’

  He nodded curtly then left before he did anything reckless.

  Like beg her to stay.

  Or kiss her again.

  Or offer to buy her a lifetime’s worth of new knickers so she’d never have a reason to leave.

  ‘I missed the train.’

  Luke rolled his eyes. ‘Wait for the next one.’

  ‘It’s not until seven thirty. Can I wait here?’ It was still only three o’clock.

  ‘No.’

  Fliss laughed. ‘Do you ever let yourself do what you want to?’

  Luke’s eyes narrowed. ‘As a matter of fact, yes. I want to go for a ride so I am.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Now. So you see, you can’t stay here.’

  ‘I could come with you.’ Fliss crossed her fingers, hoping that he wouldn’t see how much the thought terrified her.

  'You said you'd never been in the Pony Club.'

  'Not much chance of that where I grew up. But I’m a quick learner.'

  'I'm not a riding school instructor.’

  'But you’ve been riding since before you could walk. Luke, I’m sure you could teach me the basics.’

  ‘You haven’t got anything to wear.’

  Fliss merely grinned.

  Half an hour later, wearing an old pair of Luke’s jodphurs, rolled up several times, and the wellies she’d borrowed the previous day, Fliss presented herself at the stables. Luke led out a terrifyingly large horse.

  Fliss took a deep breath. She could do this. Horses weren’t really that far up, were they? She’d be fine once she was sitting safely on top of it.

  ‘Meet Molly,’ Luke said.

  Fliss took time to pat the mare and hand her a couple of Polos.

  Molly looked like a strong enough animal. Fliss wondered if she could sit in front of Luke and let him hold her on, as if she were a swooning heroine in a historical romance? Or maybe she would fall off and Luke would ride ventre-a-terre to rescue her? There were definite possibilities.

  'Do you need a leg up?' Luke was patiently holding the bridle, keeping Molly steady. Fliss looked up to the saddle, then down to the ground. Six feet? Ten? A hundred?

  Fliss swallowed hard, fighting back her nerves. 'Um, yes, please.'

  'Here.' Luke handed her the reins and stood behind her. 'Put your hand on the pommel and your left foot in the stirrup. There you go.' He hoisted her swiftly into the air and she automatically swung her right leg over, finding the other stirrup with her foot.

  'That’s good. Sit up straight. Hold on with your knees. Keep the reins lightly in your hands - don't pull. Wait there a second.'

  He abandoned her to fetch his own mount. Fliss kept her eyes fixed firmly on a tree in the far distance. Don't look down, she chanted. Do not look down. Hold on with your knees. Don't look down.

  The horse shifted to one side. Fliss squeaked and grabbed the reins, catching a brief glimpse of the stable yard floor in the process. It looked a very long way down indeed.

  'Okay, there?' Luke was coming towards her, mounted on a glossy black horse which seemed to have a psychic ability to understand what Luke wanted him to do. He stopped just beside Fliss, easily reaching over to catch the bridle of her horse. 'You look terrified,' he commented calmly.

  'No. No,' she squeaked in a panicked voice. ‘I’m fine.’

  'It's okay,' he assured her. 'I won't let you fall. Lean down and give Molly a nice pat. Let her know you’re in control.'

  Fliss bent closer to her horse's neck, patting gently.

  'It's all about balance and control,' Luke explained.

  'I'm not very good at either of those.'

  'Oh yes, you are,' he said with a swift smile that set her pulse racing. 'Now let go of the reins.'

  Fliss stared at him in horror.

  'Let go,' he repeated, dropping his own reins.

  Tentatively, she copied him, feeling even more insecure than before. What was she supposed to hold onto? What was stopping her from falling?

  'Good. Now we're just going to go for a little walk.'

  He made a clicking noise with his mouth and squeezed his knees together, sending his horse walking gently forward. With his hand on her bridle, Fliss's horse followed.

  'Feel her movement and get used to the rhythm,' Luke instructed. 'You need to learn how to keep your balance.'

  Fliss grasped the pommel on the saddle and prayed she wouldn't fall off.

  Half an hour later, she had begun to feel reasonably stable. Luke let go of her bridle and told her how she should give signals to speed up or slow down.

  'How do I make her stop?' she
asked.

  ‘Pull on the reins and tell her.’ He demonstrated. It looked deceptively easy. ‘I’m going to let you go on your own now,’ Luke told Fliss calmly. ‘Don’t go too fast and don’t panic.’

  Fliss squeezed her knees gently, the way Luke had told her to. When he did it, his horse knew to start walking forward at a sedate pace. Her own mount apparently thought this was the signal for a gallop.

  Fliss just about hung onto the reins, though her right foot had lost its stirrup and she was being bounced uncomfortably from side to side. What had Luke told her to do? The only thing she could remember was his instruction not to panic. Fat lot of good that was. Panicking was the only rational response to being carted across a field by a demon pony.

  Molly was heading for the hedge. Fliss pulled on the reins, desperately trying to steer the mare away from the obstacle, but it was no good. She was completely ignored.

  The horse dipped alarmingly, Fliss took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Her stomach dropped and the horse disappeared from underneath her.

  'Ow!' she squealed on landing slap in the middle of the hedge. It was thorny. Of course.

  A few feet away, Molly had turned around to stare at her, with an unmistakeably smug expression on her face.

  Behind her, she could hear Luke. Laughing.

  'Can you give me your hand?' he asked.

  'It's not funny,' Fliss warned.

  'Of course not,' Luke agreed, though there was still a note of amusement in his voice. 'Here.' He grabbed her hand and levered her out of the branches. Fliss could hear the thorns tearing through her borrowed t-shirt and jodhpurs. She examined her hands and arms. Scratches everywhere, some just starting to bleed.

  'Put these on them.' Luke had bent to pick some leaves from the base of the hedgerow and handed them up to Fliss. 'They’re soothing,' he explained.

  'I'm not getting back on top of that thing,' Fliss warned him.

  'What happened?' Luke asked mildly. 'Did you panic?'

  Fliss shrugged. 'She took off like a maniac and I couldn't remember how I was supposed to stop her.'

  'You panicked,' he said in resigned tones. 'Why? I wasn't expecting you to be scared.'

  'I don't like heights,' Fliss muttered.

  'Heights? But it's only a few feet.'

  'I can get scared standing on a chair.'

  'Why didn't you tell me?'

  Fliss bit her lip. 'I thought it would be okay.'

  Luke put an arm round her and gave her a hug. 'It is okay. You don't have anything to prove. Not to me.'

  She smiled tentatively. 'Sorry. For being an idiot.'

  Luke was looking down at her in sympathy. As Fliss watched, his expression changed perceptibly. Desire flickered in his eyes and his breath quickened. She waited, letting him take his time to work out what to do next.

  He groaned softly. ‘You kill me, do you know that?’ But since he dragged her close and kissed her thoroughly, Fliss didn’t bother to think of an answer.

  Several minutes later, they were lying entwined in each other's arms, staring up at the pale blue spring sky in comfortable silence.

  ‘See that cloud?’

  Luke squinted upwards, following the direction of Fliss’s pointing finger. ‘The one over the poplars?’

  ‘Maybe. The tiny one that looks like a rabbit.’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘See where its tail fades away?’

  He was struggling to follow her. ‘What about it?’

  ‘That’s the colour of your eyes.’ She said it as though it was a profound observation.

  ‘Blue,’ Luke agreed.

  Fliss shook her head. ‘Silver and grey and azure and cornflower. Like an impressionist painting.’

  Luke kissed Fliss’s hair softly. 'What if you didn’t go back to London today?'

  He had no idea what had made him say it.

  Fliss must have bewitched him somehow. It was the only explanation. But his dad was right, he did need a secretary. And Fliss needed a job. It would only be for six weeks, and then he’d have enough time to find someone permanent.

  She sighed. 'I only brought one pair of knickers.'

  'I do have a washing machine,’ he pointed out. ‘With a delicates cycle.’

  'I need to find a job.' Luke wasn’t at all sure why Fliss was suddenly getting cold feet. Hadn’t she been angling all weekend for an invitation to stay?

  Still he found himself trying to persuade her. 'There are jobs in Newmarket.'

  Fliss frowned. 'I don't know, Luke.'

  'I thought you wanted to stay.' Suddenly it mattered that she did. He needed her to feel the same irresistible compulsion he did. If he was making a fool of himself for this woman, he wasn’t going to be the only one.

  'Another night, sure. A week, maybe. But get a job? Move here for good? It’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?’

  Luke turned his head to look at her. 'I'm not in the market for permanent, Fliss.'

  She sat up and shifted so that she didn’t have to look at him. Her hands were randomly pulling up handfuls of grass. 'What are you in the market for?'

  'A few weeks. Nothing serious. You could help me take my mind off work when I need it.' A few weeks couldn’t do any harm. Provided he was clear about the ground rules. Work took priority. Always. No matter what.

  'I thought you never took your mind off work.'

  'Apparently I do when I'm with you.'

  'Oh. And that's a good thing, right?'

  Luke flopped back on to the grass. 'Sometimes. It's less than six weeks to the Derby and I've gone through every minute of that time in my head more times than I can remember. I know what needs to be done and I need to stay calm.'

  'I've never lived with a boyfriend before,' Fliss told him. 'It scares me.'

  'Nothing scares you.'

  She laughed. 'Riding scares me.'

  'Right.'

  'And moving in with you scares me.'

  'Why?'

  It was her turn to sigh. 'It's the way I've always been: no commitments, no ties, no responsibilities. It's how I like it.'

  'What are you scared of?'

  She took a deep breath. She'd never admitted this to anyone before. But this was Luke. He didn't do emotions. He wouldn't go all soppy on her. 'I'm scared that I'll start relying on someone else to be there. And then, one day, they won't be. It's better to be independent. That way, if I let myself down, I won't have anyone else to blame.'

  Luke took hold of her hand and squeezed it. 'Who let you down, Fliss?'

  'No one, really.'

  He didn't say anything.

  'I mean, it was my mum, not me.'

  Another pause.

  'For as long as I can remember, she had one man after another. They moved in with us and stayed - sometimes for a few days or weeks. Some for months. One or two for a couple of years. But they all left, eventually.'

  Luke squeezed again. 'That must have been tough for you.'

  She shrugged. 'I was used to it. Mostly.'

  Only she hadn't been, not really. Not when she'd been frying eggs and bacon one Sunday morning for the three of them and her mother had waltzed in to announce that Steve had gone. Steve, who Fliss had secretly started thinking of as her dad, after he'd been around for a year. Steve, who Fliss had hoped was going to marry her mum and adopt her, and make a real little family. Steve, who'd broken her heart and shattered all her illusions when he went without even saying goodbye.

  After that, Fliss had tried to stay detached. She had tried not to care when any of the men took time to get to know her a bit or gave her presents. They would leave one day, she reminded herself. She mustn't start to rely on them.

  Ironically, after Fliss had left home, her mother had finally settled down. For the last five years she had been living with the same man. Hugo was lovely and kind and had been divorced before. He was wonderful to her mother and had tried his best to welcome Fliss into his family as well. But the memories were still too strong. Fliss didn't
go to visit her mother at Hugo's house. She arranged meetings on neutral ground - lunch in restaurants, shopping trips, visits to the cinema when Hugo was working late. She knew her mother wished that she would make more effort to get to know Hugo, but Fliss just couldn't do it.

  She'd made the same rule in her own relationships. She never let herself start to rely on a man. She never trusted that he would stay around for long. So she'd never taken the step of moving in with a guy. She liked the safety of distance.

  'A few weeks?' she checked.

  'Until after the Derby. Middle of June. Will you?'

  'What would I do with myself?' Fliss wasn't prepared to be anyone's kept woman. 'Do you know anyone looking for a temporary secretary?'

  'Yes.' Luke grinned. 'I am.'

  She shook her head firmly. 'No, you aren't. You said so. I'm not going to be a charity case, Luke.'

  He took hold of her hands. 'I lied. I've been in need of a new secretary for months. Since my old one left in February. I just haven't got round to advertising and interviewing and all that. But if you could do it for a few weeks, that would be amazing. Then I'll have a breathing space to look round for someone more permanent.'

  A few weeks. She could do that. There wasn't time for her heart to get broken in just a few weeks. Luke had been very clear that he wasn't looking for anything serious either. They would just enjoy this short time together and then go their separate ways.

  Fliss watched a wisp of cotton wool cloud drift through the sky above them. In the distance there were sounds of horses neighing and birds singing. It was blissful. Just then she couldn't bear the thought of going back to the city, ever.

  Luke tickled her nose with a blade of grass. Fliss giggled and pushed his hand away.

  'Say yes,' he prompted her, tickling again, this time under her chin.

  'Or you'll torture me into submission?'

  'Right. Say it?'

  'Oh, fine!' she retorted in mock exasperation. 'But only because you made me!'

  Luke rolled on top of her, trapping her body beneath his. 'Fine.' He took a moment to gaze at her, releasing one hand while he pushed the tangled hair gently back from her face. He traced the curve of her jaw, then cupped his hand beneath her chin and lifted her face to be kissed.