Well Groomed

by Fiona Walker

  The muscle in his cheek was twitching more noticeably now, and he was clenching his fists so tightly that the knuckles gleamed through like pearls.

  ‘Will you do it?’ Tash asked cautiously, not liking the blue flame glitter of his eyes.

  He took a deep, shaky breath and then exploded so angrily that she screamed.

  ‘How DARE you?’

  ‘What?’ She reeled backwards.

  ‘How dare you be so fucking insensitive and childish and downright IDIOTIC as to think this can be some sort of bloody consolation prize for my misery?’

  She cowered away from him as he stood up, shaking with fury, his face a twisted mask.

  ‘You silly little bitch!’ he howled, starting to pace around frenziedly. ‘I can’t believe you’re capable of this – it’s bloody beyond me how you even got the notion into your head. Christ!’

  ‘I wanted to help you, Hugo. Can’t you see that?’

  ‘Oh, I can see that,’ he snarled. ‘I can see that all right. I bet you and Niall had a good old chat about it this evening, huh? “What can I do to make poor old Hugs feel better now that his favourite horse has just croaked, Niall baby?” – “I know, Tash angel!”’ he aped Niall’s accent perfectly. ‘“Why not offer him a turn on yours?” – “Oh, Niall, you’re so clever, darling. I’ll do just that.” Like a rich kid offering a pauper a ride on his fucking bicycle!’

  ‘It wasn’t like that! I didn’t mean it like that!’

  ‘You might not think so, but I’m afraid you did, darling,’ he drawled, voice ringing with acid mockery. ‘Bod wasn’t a shitty toy I need a replacement to play with, or a dead hamster that the parents can whip out of a cage and replace with a new, live one undetected. I shed blood and tears on that horse – he was a fucking star and a damned good friend. And now he’s dead, so don’t you bloody DARE offer me an animal you’ve spent the best part of two years fucking up so that I can prove I’m a better rider than you. I don’t need five days in Gloucestershire with your shoddy seconds to do that, darling.’

  Tash couldn’t speak for tears. How badly she’d misjudged the situation. She flinched as he started backing her towards a wall, his pale, furious face just inches from hers.

  ‘I never imagined you capable of shallowness to this degree, Tash,’ he whispered, voice seething with blame. ‘Christ! I can’t believe I thought so much of you. I was talking crap when I said I loved you last night. I was just pissed and fucked up about losing Bod.’

  For a moment Tash thought she’d misheard him. She’d played that conversation over and over in her head all day. She knew exactly what he’d said. She stared into his blisteringly angry face, taking in the ice-chip eyes, snarling mouth, beautiful, straight nose with its nostrils flared in contempt.

  ‘You didn’t say you loved me, Hugo,’ she said.

  ‘Didn’t I?’ For a moment his gaze flickered. ‘Are you sure?’ He sounded as though he was confirming a feed order, voice snappy and abrupt.

  She nodded frantically. ‘You told me you didn’t want to be my friend, and that falling in love was like eating garlic, and that Tennyson was a sad loser. And then you told me to get lost.’

  ‘Oh.’ He rubbed his chin awkwardly, moving away. ‘I was obviously in a more philosophical mood than I thought.’ He was looking hugely uncomfortable now, shoulders hunched, hands banging together, legs moving stiffly. Tash had never seen him so self-conscious.

  ‘What –’ she started cautiously, voice wobbling with nerves and hope ‘– made you think you said you loved me last night?’

  He turned back to her, chewing his lip for a moment, still looking jumpy. Then the easy, mocking smile slid back into place.

  ‘I think I probably wanted a shag.’ He shrugged. ‘I do seem to recall asking, now I think about it. And I certainly needed cheering up – the “I love you” line usually works. Thank God I didn’t try it after all – I was probably far too plastered to get it up.’

  She yelped, backing away as though struck. ‘You don’t mean that!’

  ‘Don’t I?’ he laughed. ‘You were certainly giving me the come-on at the farm earlier. Or did you just want to make that childish kiss-the-bride Badminton deal because you know you haven’t a hope? I expect that’s why you’re offering me Snob now. At least that way he stands a chance of winning.’

  With a sob, Tash threw back her arm and, not stopping to think, swung her hand with all her weight behind it. Her palm and his cheek made contact with such an almighty smack that she winced, her hand buzzing with pain.

  For a moment he gazed at her, eyes watering, one pale cheek starting to colour. Then he strode out, heels clicking on the polished floors until they faded away.

  Tash raced from the house, crashing past Lisette and the ubiquitous clip-boarded minion as she ran.

  ‘Tash – hello there!’ Lisette called after her, but Tash had already pelted towards the design classic, which unusually started first time.

  By the time Lisette had raced after her to the yard, Tash was shooting up pebbles and toxic fumes in her wake. Once again the lanes from Maccombe to the Fosbournes got a heavy hammering under her erratic driving.

  Once again Niall didn’t return to the forge that night.

  The phone rang again and again but, certain that it was either her mother or Henrietta eager to discuss what shade of dog collar the vicar should wear, Tash had disconnected the fax and answerphone and simply let it drone on unanswered. Hugging Beetroot for comfort, she listened to Abba’s greatest hits at full blast to punish herself some more for her idiotic attempt to cheer up Hugo and appease his pain. He was right, she was as shallow as a puddle in a drought. She’d wanted so much to believe that he’d almost confessed to loving her last night, but when she thought back with the agonising logic of hindsight, she’d dressed like a siren at Zoe’s dinner party and he’d hardly noticed it when he arrived, simply making the usual derisive remarks. In fact, he’d only started flirting with her after she’d asked him to kiss her if she won Badminton. And he’d been pissed then. Later, when they’d raced up to Haydown, she’d hung around to comfort him, and instead of letting him ramble on about the horse he’d just lost, she had engineered the conversation towards their feelings for one another instead. No wonder he’d told her to piss off the moment Stefan arrived. She wanted to die with humiliation.

  Her mother had always taught her the old truism that if one wanted something enough, it happened. Tash decided that she was living proof that there wasn’t always truth behind clichés. If one wanted something hard enough, for long enough, the disappointment of not getting it just grew greater and greater.

  ‘You still here?’ Hugo snapped as he encountered Lisette prowling around his kitchen with a large gin and tonic – almost certainly his own. She was doubtless going to bawl him out about the Twenty Acres fiasco again.

  But she greeted him with a big, slinky smile instead.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ she purred cheerfully. ‘Stefan said you were skulking around the attics, but I couldn’t get very far beyond the door. It’s a pig-sty up there.’

  ‘Do feel free to whisk around it with a duster if you want,’ he snarled, stalking across to the fridge and extracting a pint of milk.

  ‘Don’t be facetious, Hugo.’ She smiled, leaning back against a huge old laundry cupboard and watching him. ‘I want to have a little chat.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ He swigged back milk straight from the carton.

  ‘About Niall.’

  ‘In that case I certainly don’t want to know.’ He headed towards the hall door again, whistling for his gang of dogs.

  Lisette clinked the ice in her glass and waited until he was almost out of the room.

  ‘. . . and Zoe Goldsmith.’

  He paused, framed in the doorway, and turned very slowly around to look at her, face still indifferent. ‘What about them?’

  ‘You saw them the other night, the way they kept moving together like doubles partners between tennis rallies – an
d you saw Tash too, watching them and looking as though her world had been wiped out. Don’t pretend you didn’t, darling. I could see your eyes following her everywhere. Talk about eyeball and chain.’

  ‘A lot has happened since then,’ he muttered, leaning against the door frame.

  ‘Indeed.’ She took a long sip of her drink, watching him over the rim. ‘For one, I know you’ve been talking to Tash today. I saw her running through this house earlier looking as though there’d been a death in the family.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ He fiddled with the milk carton.

  ‘What have you been saying to her, Hugo?’ Lisette demanded.

  ‘That’s none of your fucking business.’

  She rattled the ice in her glass, voice steely. ‘Did you tell her that Niall and Zoe spent last night together?’

  ‘Did I what?’ Hugo gaped at her, genuinely astounded. ‘Whyever should I say that? It’s not true, is it?’

  Lisette opened her mouth and shut it again, her huge, feline eyes regarding his face mistrustfully. ‘No, of course it’s not true. Just location gossip – you know how ridiculously exaggerated these things get. I just didn’t want Tash finding out and getting upset about some bitchy extra’s lies, that’s all.’

  ‘Of course you didn’t.’ Hugo ripped a shred from the carton and smiled at her levelly.

  ‘Well, that’s okay then.’ Lisette started to polish off her drink, eager to curtail the conversation.

  ‘You’re signing over your share in Snob to Tash when they marry, aren’t you?’ Hugo said idly.

  ‘Yes, it’s okay, I haven’t abused my promise,’ she muttered, picking up her handbag. ‘I told you I wouldn’t sell the bloody thing to anyone else, although God knows I think you were mad not to have taken me up on my offer. Stefan let slip last night that you’ve been after the horse for years.’

  ‘Well, I’ve changed my mind.’ Hugo wandered forward, not taking his eyes off hers. ‘I want to buy your share now.’

  ‘It’s too late.’ She waved a dismissive hand. ‘I spoke to my solicitor this week. He’s drawing up an official transferral document or something – I had no idea how complicated these things are. Did you know that horse is worth more than a small house in Chelsea?’

  ‘Of course I know.’ Hugo was just a foot away from her now. ‘And I’ll pay you what your share’s worth – the full amount. No bargain offers.’

  She shook her head, matching his gaze. ‘I’ve promised Tash now. And we wouldn’t want to break her little heart by going back on a deal, would we? Not your darling protégée?’

  Eyes still boring into hers, Hugo smiled easily. ‘I’m not interested in her. I’m purely interested in acquiring the horse.’

  ‘Sure!’ she scoffed. ‘And the fact that Tash only gets my share when she marries Niall has nothing to do with your sudden change of heart? I thought of that little clause myself. Rather neat, huh? I guessed it might piss you off.’

  ‘It might have escaped your notice,’ Hugo said, his face absolutely expressionless, ‘but I lost my best horse last night. I don’t have another in my yard to replace him. My career is on the rocks as a result, and if I don’t find another top-grade animal bloody soon, I’ll probably lose my sponsors. Snob is perfect.’

  ‘And what makes you think Niall would ever sell you the remaining share even if I do agree?’ sneered Lisette, totally unsympathetic.

  ‘Because I’ll offer him so much money he can’t refuse,’ Hugo said simply.

  Lisette laughed. ‘Christ, you’re a selfish bastard, aren’t you, Hugo?’

  They were less than a foot apart now. Lisette could feel the heat from his body and could just catch the lightest, earthy tang of sweat and straw rising from it. His eyes met hers with such teasing seductiveness that she couldn’t help but smile. Boy, was he pretty. Looking at him, she knew without doubt that he was one of the most desirable men she had ever encountered, worth a dozen shallow, self-seeking Davids with their this-is-my-first-affair sham liberalism, their ageing vanity and pseudo-intellectualism. Hugo was hot-headed and physical and gloriously deceitful. Not only was he so exquisitely put together that the eye was dragged to him over and over again in disbelief at such perfection, but he had a desperate, passionate will which she also recognised in herself. They were both people who wanted things very, very badly indeed, and loathed giving up on them, however desperate the odds. And Lisette had wanted Hugo for a very long time. But she had wanted a successful career more, and for longer, and she knew she had a far better chance of keeping it. Hugo would slip through her fingers before she’d even familiarised herself with the feel of his skin. Trapping him was like trying to catch a leaf in a gale.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, voice melting with intimacy. ‘I’ll do you a deal. You can buy my share of the horse on two conditions. The first is that he wins Badminton next week.’

  ‘Christ, you don’t ask much, do you?’ he laughed bitterly. ‘What’s the second? That he sprouts wings and helps slay Chimera?’

  ‘The other,’ Lisette smiled delightedly, ‘is that you leave Tash French alone. If I hear that you’ve so much as winked at her over the next week, the deal’s off. And believe me, I’ll be listening hard. Steer clear, Hugo. Hands off. She chose Niall over you two years ago, and she’s not about to change her mind two weeks before the wedding.’

  One of Hugo’s straight, dark eyebrows shot up. ‘Even though Niall is having a last fling with Zoe Goldsmith?’

  ‘I told you, that was gossip,’ Lisette said lightly. ‘You heard him at Zoe’s dinner party. He talked about the wedding non-stop. You have to accept that Tash is going to marry him, Hugo. She loves him. Face it, the only thing you have a hope of wrapping those long legs of yours around is her horse. It’s the closest you’ll get.’

  ‘Boy, you do like to protect Niall’s interests, don’t you? Anyone would think you were his mother, not his ex-wife.’

  ‘I don’t want you fucking this up for either of them, Hugo.’ Lisette gathered her car keys. ‘I’m only offering to do this because you’re so bloody irresistible, I can’t quite bring myself to give you a flat no. Now do we have a deal?’

  Hugo shrugged. ‘Sure. Snob has to win Badminton and I have to keep my hands off Tash, then I’ll get to buy your share. Frankly, I think I have a better chance of marrying Niall.’

  Thirty-Five

  * * *

  SCHOOLING SNOB THE FINAL Sunday before Badminton, Tash started to hope that she might enjoy their hardest – and probably last – test together after all. He dropped his head and listened for once and by the end of an hour-long jumping session, Gus was actually applauding them both as she rode out of the ring.

  ‘Great! Go like that for the rest of the week and I might even put a fiver on you.’

  But that afternoon, Snob disgraced himself once more as she rode him out on the heat-hazed ridgeway with Ted on Mickey and Kirsty on her great old mare, Betty Blue. Spooking at a kite being flown by a young boy, he went bananas and decided that it was in his and Tash’s best interests to bolt as fast and as far from this potentially life-threatening airborne murder-weapon as possible. His flight was far more life-threatening – as Tash ducked the low branches that threatened to decapitate her, his hooves scattered large flints and divots, missing the huge track-grooves left by farm vehicles in the winter by inches, only just dodging rabbit holes and loose wire coils from the sheep fencing that was flashing past Tash’s left leg at an alarming rate.

  It took her almost a mile to pull him up, fighting and tugging all the way and thanking her lucky stars that he hadn’t come to harm. He’d been like a bulldozer with its accelerator jammed on full and was so supremely fit that he could have carried on like that for miles if he so chose. That was a taste of what she would get if he finally fought the battle and won across country and the prospect terrified her.

  When she rejoined Ted and Kirsty, they hacked back in silence while Tash descended into lower and lower spirits.

  ‘Hunk’s going brillia
ntly, isn’t he?’ Ted asked to cheer her up as they neared the farm, the horses’ hooves ringing out.

  Tash nodded, but it simply pointed up how badly Snob was going. And he was the one she desperately wanted to succeed, however unfair she knew it was on her dear, gentlemanly Hunk. Because Snob was the horse she was going to lose. Her short-fused, hot-headed chestnut who was as ingenious one day as he was unco-operative the next, was picking up on her nerves and unhappiness, however hard she tried to keep them covered.

  To her surprise Hugo was sitting at the Lime Tree kitchen table when she walked in, chatting amicably to Gus and sipping coffee from one of the farm’s assortment of mismatched, chipped mugs. When Tash slid past to fetch herself a Coke from the fridge, she noticed that it said ‘Natasha’ – a birthday gift from Rufus.

  It was the first time she had seen him since his outburst in the nursery at Maccombe, and she felt understandably twitchy as she dug around in the fridge and then pulled the ring on the can, which predictably caused a minor explosion of froth on the front of her shirt. She couldn’t even bring herself to say hello to him, simply wanted to beat a retreat as hastily as possible. But Gus curtailed her escape with a wave of his hand, indicating she should join them.

  ‘Hugo’s come over with a suggestion,’ he greeted her with a sly smile. ‘An idea with which I gather you are not altogether unfamiliar.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Tash slid into a chair at the opposite end of the table to Hugo, but on the same side so that she didn’t have to look him in the face.

  ‘I’m not sure it’s really for the best, though, as I’ve just been telling him,’ Gus went on. ‘Not after this morning’s performance at any rate.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Tash repeated, her voice growing more and more squeaky.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw that Hugo had turned his chair towards her, but she remained staring fixedly at Gus. Her expression must have been fairly rabid because he shot her a concerned look.

  ‘I’m offering to take on the ride with Snob next weekend,’ Hugo said gruffly, not looking at her either. ‘If you want me to. You said you’d been having one or two problems with him which you feel a change of jockey might remedy.’