Well Groomed

by Fiona Walker

  ‘Think the young chap’s just done one,’ he was saying as he held his son at arm’s length.

  Sophia ignored him, and gathered her children close as she kissed Tash on the cheek.

  ‘Have you seen Daddy and Henrietta?’

  ‘No.’ Tash’s heart sank. She had forgotten that they’d said they would pole up and offer support. She wasn’t sure she could face either of them in her current state of flux. ‘Are they here?’

  ‘Supposed to be, but we were an hour late to meet them. This weather’s such a bore – multiple pile-up on the M5 slowed us down, which was highly annoying. They originally said they’d meet us by your sponsor’s stand, but we keep going there and they’re nowhere to be seen. We haven’t been anywhere near the course yet. Are you going there now?’

  ‘The course?’ Tash looked at her rather blankly. ‘Actually, I’ve already—’

  ‘No, silly, your sponsors – Mogo, isn’t it?’ She examined Tash’s coat for a label. Tash backed away.

  ‘No, I’m not going there.’ She glanced guiltily around in case there were any Mogo employees on the prowl. She’d lose the contract if she was spotted like this, or snapped by a journalist, she realised. She ducked her head beneath the lapels like a spy and buried her hands in the pockets, which were full of horse treats and other rubbish.

  ‘Daddy and Henrietta are very keen to talk to you about the wedding, Tash – and so am I come to that.’ Sophia was looking around the stands again. ‘Drat, where’s bloody Bernadette got to now? I bet she’s having a sly fag.’

  ‘I’m going to the tent to watch the cross-country on CCTV.’ Tash started to back away. She certainly couldn’t face talking about the wedding today. She hadn’t even let herself think about the wedding today.

  ‘Is it dry?’ Sophia sniffed, looking up at the dark, squally sky.

  ‘It’s competitors and owners only,’ Tash apologised. This wasn’t strictly true but she had a dread of Sophia’s long-suffering au pair nappy-changing in the middle of it.

  ‘Oh.’ She looked rather miffed.

  ‘Think this chap needs changing, Sophs.’ Ben was getting increasingly desperate as he waved Henry around like a loaded gun about to go off. ‘You been round yet, Tash old thing?’

  With enormous relief, Tash spotted Henrietta in the distance, tripping over a dog in her haste to catch up with James, who was marching ahead with his usual military gait.

  ‘Look, there’s Daddy,’ she pointed out to Sophia and, the moment the Merediths started waving and shouting to attract his attention, dashed towards the TV tent. In her haste, she failed to see the elegant, slim woman stalking alongside Henrietta, her wide-brimmed leather hat tilted to shield her face from the rain.

  Penny had left the tent to cheer Gus through the steeplechase, but Kirsty was still inside and looking after Beetroot, who was stuffing her face with Lucy Field’s unwanted hot dog.

  ‘Well done for getting round,’ Tash greeted her.

  ‘Bad luck for no’ getting the chance,’ Kirsty said. She had put on a coat over her cross-country shirt, but her sharp-featured face had the tell-tale splattering of mud that separated those who had been round from the hopefuls still awaiting their start time. Many of the competitors in the tent were fresh-faced and scrubbed-cheeked. Tash found herself in the unique position of being halfway between the two.

  She took hold of Beetroot’s lead and sat between Kirsty and Glen Bain as she watched a few rounds, including Stefan’s, on the television monitors. Julia Ditton and her camera crew were roaming around outside to wait for competitors who had just finished, sucking up to the very few who had done well in order to chat to them, and pouncing on the majority who had been the victims of crashing falls to ask what had gone wrong. Every so often the camera loomed into the tent to focus on the white, nail-chewing faces of the current leaders as they watched their positions slide ever-downwards in the wake of better rounds. Kirsty, who was still sitting in fourth place despite her cricket score, received the odd close up while Tash tried to cower out of shot to hide her jacket. In the end she discarded it altogether, pushing it beneath her to act as a cushion, The tent – damp, moist and muggy from so many sweating bodies – was too warm to need it.

  Finding that she was sitting on a lump, Tash pulled the coat out from under her and fished in its pockets. Inside one were a packet of sweets and an old leather credit card case filled with Hugo’s plastic – gold Amex, banker’s card, Visa, memberships to various clubs. Tash flipped idly through them, surprised that someone as punctilious as Hugo had left them lying around in a spare coat.

  ‘He rode out in it this morning.’ Kirsty was watching her. ‘That is Hugo’s, isn’t it?’

  Tash nodded.

  ‘He rode out in it – I saw him,’ Kirsty said. ‘And that must be his wallet thing.’ She took it from Tash and flipped through. ‘Look, photos – ah! He’s got one of Bod. And this must be his father, I take it . . . Christ, I recognise this!’ she shrieked with amazement.

  ‘What?’ Tash dragged her eyes away from the screens, which were showing Stefan and Happy Monday squelching through the mashed-up Quarry. Looking at what Kirsty had in her hands, she almost passed out.

  It was one of the kinky Polaroids of her that had been stuck to the Valentine’s card she had intended for Niall. Hugo had cut it down to fit into the wallet so that thankfully only her face and shoulders showed, but the picture still made it pretty clear how little she was wearing and how pleased she was with herself.

  ‘How can that have got there!’ Tash whipped it back and threw it into the pocket it had come from, determining to extract it later and burn the photograph. Her face was on fire. ‘Look, poor Stefan’s had a stop at the Cross Questions.’

  But Kirsty was still staring at her, her damp red hair falling across her eyes as she cocked her head with a funny half-smile.

  ‘It all makes sense now,’ she murmured softly. ‘I canna believe I was so thick.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Tash pressed her cold hands to her hot face in an attempt to ease the burning. She was uncomfortably aware that Glen Bain was pretending to watch the monitors, but listening in avidly.

  ‘He never wanted me to go to the house where we could be private,’ Kirsty breathed as though thinking it through for the first time. ‘He used to want to come down to the farm. And he always asked after you – used to like me to tell him wee stories about how funny you were when you fell off or gave all the horses the wrong feeds or whatever. And he loved hearing about the times Niall couldn’t get away from work to see you. In fact, he talked about you a lot – I always wondered why he bitched so much. Now I know.’

  ‘Know what?’

  Kirsty gave her a sarcastic look. ‘Don’t be thick, Tash. He even dragged me with him to try and persuade you to come to the New Year’s Eve party.’

  ‘Penny asked him to,’ Tash remembered.

  But Kirsty shook her head. ‘It was Hugo’s idea. As soon as you and Niall announced you were getting engaged, he went right off me. Couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Christ! This woman Stefan was going on about Hugo adoring is you, Tash. It’s you!’

  There was a huge groan in the tent and Kirsty turned to look at the monitors. ‘Has Stefan fallen?’ Her face started to drain of colour.

  ‘No.’ Lucy Field was swigging ready-made gin and tonic from a can even though she had yet to ride. ‘Happy put in another stop and he’s retired.’

  ‘But he was almost at the end!’ Kirsty wailed, standing up and heading for the tent exit to go in search of him hacking back off-course.

  ‘Kirsty!’ Tash tried to call her back, but she was already through the door and hunching against the rain.

  Tash watched a few more rounds without really taking them in, mindlessly chatting to the other competitors as she alternately congratulated and sympathised, although she got even that wrong, finding that she was giving a comforting hug to a New Zealand friend who had just clocked the fastest clear of the day.

 
; People keep telling me how Hugo feels, she thought giddily, and I keep ignoring them and carrying on as though this is some dumb crush.

  Grinning from ear to ear, she decided that she had better go and locate her family supporters to steer them to the start of the course where they could watch Gus and then Hugo set off.

  Wandering out of the tent and shrugging Hugo’s coat back on – snuggling happily into it like a dog in a basket – she bumped into Kirsty and Stefan coming back the other way. From the way he had his arm around her, she realised why Kirsty hadn’t seemed too upset by her discovery in the wallet earlier.

  ‘Congratulations, Stef,’ Tash said rather vaguely and headed out into the rain.

  ‘She okay?’ Stefan watched her go with concern. ‘She looked a bit spaced.’

  ‘She’s just found out Hugo fancies her rotten.’

  ‘Oh, she must know that by now,’ Stefan sighed despairingly. ‘He’s been after her for years.’

  Taking in the crowds properly for the first time that day, Tash was amazed by the moving, sludgy sea of waxed coats, hats and green wellies. Golfing umbrellas danced through the neap-tide like floating debris, along with weaving dogs, brightly dressed toddlers and the air-borne litter of fast-food containers, paper napkins and dropped programmes, buffeted around by the wind.

  Because of the awful weather, the sheltered trade stands were packed while out on the course the crowds were far thinner than usual on endurance day, spectators walking at hunched angles as they battled against the wind and rain. Umbrellas, hoods and dogs’ ears were inside out and coats full of air as the onlookers squelched gallantly through the mud, eager to see their favourite combinations ride round.

  Tash tracked Sophia’s mob down at a trade stand decked with novelty sweatshirts featuring three-dimensional sheep and fat Friesian cows with udders that dangled like silk fingers from the embroidered design.

  She was almost mown down by an elegant figure in a leather hat racing up to hug her.

  ‘Tash darling! Henrietta and I are so, so cross with you that I should be in an awful sulk but I’m far too pleased to see you. Have you been round yet? Are you leading? Gosh, that’s a nice coat – is it new? You could have done with a smaller size.’

  Tash backed away to see her mother’s exquisite, wide-eyed face looking at her anxiously.

  ‘I’m no longer in the competition, Mummy,’ she sighed, trying to answer the most important question first. ‘And what on earth are you doing here? I thought you and Pascal were coming over next week.’

  ‘We are – I mean, he is. But we have to talk about this wedding very urgently, darling, so I had to track you down for a chat.’ Alexandra backed off and gave her a beady look from under her hat brim. ‘Now say hello to your pa and Henrietta and let’s all get huge drinks somewhere.’

  After the hellos were done with – Tash noticed that she received her frostiest reception yet from Henrietta, but a far warmer one than expected from her father – they moved towards the start box in a straggling group. Henry was still wailing loudly, although he was now being held by the Merediths’ vast French au pair who kept asking where the lavatories were.

  ‘Is this the way to the bar?’ Alexandra asked hopefully. ‘I have to talk to you straight away, darling.’

  Not liking the excitable tone of her mother’s voice, Tash ignored her and trudged towards the ten-minute box where Gus was remounting ready to start. Not able to take her family into the horse area, she parked them at the fence.

  ‘Tash!’ he called from up high, just stopping Vic from ploughing down the ring fence as he recognised her and nosed for a mint.

  Tash fed him one of the treats from Hugo’s coat pocket and wished them both luck.

  ‘Rotten shame having to pull out like that.’ Gus smiled sadly, nodding to Tash’s family who were all trying to say hello at once. He hadn’t the time or inclination to get involved in the greetings. He reached a hand beneath his leg to check the girth a final time, face scrunching up with effort.

  ‘I won’t mind nearly so much if you go clear,’ Tash told him. ‘Best of luck.’

  Gus pulled a face and stretched down to kiss Penny before moving towards the start box.

  Once he was counted down and on his way, Penny dragged Tash to the riders’ tent to watch the television coverage.

  ‘Will your family be all right?’ she asked anxiously as they found a couple of seats.

  ‘Shit! I forgot about them.’ Tash made to stand up again, but Penny gripped tightly on to her hand. ‘Stay here – I need you more. Where’s Ted?’

  ‘Still in the endurance box, I should think.’ Tash looked around. She wanted to slope back there too and collect her family. She was feeling hugely guilty now. But she was also uncomfortably aware that all of them – with the possible exception of Ben – today possessed the avid, earnest look of a minority pressure group marching to lobby Parliament. It frightened her. She wasn’t sure she could hold out.

  ‘Damn! I wanted him to hold my other hand.’ Penny was fretting.

  ‘I’ll do that,’ Glen Bain offered slimily.

  Penny gripped on gratefully and watched the ensuing twelve minutes in terrified, shaking silence, punctuated only by the odd gasp of relief when Gus made it through a sticky moment or Vic slithered in the soup-thick mud.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ Tash assured her as her hand was mashed to a pulp. ‘Vic has studs in the size of conkers.’

  ‘Matches his brain then,’ Penny said in a tight voice. ‘How are they doing for time? If he gets a good place here, he’ll have clinched the Bettapet sponsorship deal. If Brian goes faster on Foreign Agent, he gets it. It’s hateful, but it’s our only chance to keep going.’

  They raced back to the box to watch him take the last fence, face plastered with mud and smiles.

  Gus pounded through the finish just thirteen seconds over the maximum time and grinning from ear to ear. He’d had the second fastest clear of the day and he couldn’t talk for excitement. When he slid off Vic, Julia Ditton thrust a microphone in his face and asked him how it had gone, but he just smiled goofily and silently into it until she gave up.

  He hugged Penny until she practically snapped and loped into the weighing tent to sign in before bounding back to hug Tash, Penny and Ted, who was holding a panting Vic. Then he hugged them again. About to embark on a third round of hugs, he let out a cry of joy.

  ‘He did it!’ he wailed, giving Vic such a patting that the old horse looked likely to develop a dent in his neck.

  ‘Tash!’ yelled a voice from behind, and she swung around to see Ben waving his arms at her and pointing to the far side of the box where a familiar chestnut was looking eager to slay a few random grooms.

  ‘Shit!’ She remembered that she had promised to meet Hugo and raced off.

  He was sitting on an upturned bucket as Jenny greased Snob’s stamping legs, aided by India, who was holding his head to stop him from taking lumps out of her. The vets had already given the big chestnut the all clear and had backed hastily away. In contrast to Hunk earlier, he was barely sweating, although his coat was damp with rain. He gave a huge, rumbling whicker as Tash approached and delved into her borrowed coat pockets for treats.

  Thankfully the downpour was at last easing off and the storm clouds seemed to be rumbling east to pester Oxford and then London.

  On the other side of the fence from the box, Tash’s family were rowing and fretting, still clustered together like a small group of political activists. At least the au pair seemed to have whisked Henry off to a convenient lavatory. Leaning over the fence, Alexandra was trying hard to have an animated conversation with Hugo who was sensibly ignoring her. Henrietta was entertaining Lotty and Josh by pulling funny faces, at which James was looking both peeved and jealous.

  Tash squelched through the mud to Hugo’s side.

  ‘How’s he going?’

  ‘Like a bloody rhino on steroids,’ he groaned, looking up through a damp forelock. ‘My arms ache. I think I�
�ll lose the use of both if I get on there again.’ He rolled his eyes towards Snob.

  Tash smiled. ‘He’s much more fun across country than roads and tracks,’ she assured him. ‘And his steeplechase is always done full pelt, however hard you try and pace him.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’ He flexed his fingers to get some feeling back into them. ‘Jenny’s just given me a ticking off for going too fast but believe me, if I could have got him to go slower, I would have.’

  Tash giggled. ‘He’s so fit, it won’t have taken anything out of him – in fact, it will have done him good. Composed him a little.’

  ‘Practically decomposed me.’ Hugo stood up, glancing at Jenny who mouthed, ‘Three minutes.’

  ‘D’you need any help?’ Tash looked around awkwardly, trying to ignore her mother’s frantic hand signals.

  ‘You can wish me luck again,’ he said lightly, pulling on his gloves.

  ‘Good luck.’ She watched his clever, focused eyes.

  ‘I didn’t mean like that.’

  Heart leaping, she gazed around at several adoring young female fans who had come to see him off, and her bickering family who were hissing over the fence that they simply had to talk to her right this minute. Suddenly none of them seemed to matter.

  ‘Good luck.’ She stretched up and kissed him very slowly and lightly on the mouth. Just for a second his lips yielded.

  His eyes seared into hers with such intensity, she thought he was going to kiss her back properly and almost fainted with excitement. But he simply smiled broadly, leaping back on board and circling Snob at the start to try and calm him. Already snatching at the bit in anticipation, his mouth foaming, Snob looked thoroughly overexcited, his dark eyes bulging eagerly.

  ‘Just like me,’ Tash murmured to herself faintly, ducking out of the box to join her family, not hearing a word they said until Hugo and Snob bounded out of the start, mud flying.

  ‘Can we all talk now?’ Alexandra pleaded as soon as they had streaked out of view.

  But Tash was already trotting through the park, her ears on elastic for the commentary.