by Jade West
“A visitor?” the voice called. “Holly? Is that you?”
A little blush on Katie’s cheeks. “No, Mum, it’s not Holly.” She turned to me. “Friend from school,” she whispered.
We waited what felt like an age until the footsteps started up again. I took a breath, prepared the smile.
The woman who came down the stairs was a real stunner, just like her daughter. Her blonde curls were still wet, and she was wearing nothing but a simple t-shirt over jeans. No makeup, but she didn’t need any. Her eyes were blue and her smile was broad. Same freckles.
She held out a hand. “Debbie,” she said. “Katie’s mum.”
“Carl,” I said, and left it at that. I shook her hand firmly.
Katie looked at me, eyes wide and a little unsure. “Carl’s my boss,” she said, and my heart dropped a little. “And a friend.”
Her mum raised an eyebrow at her. “Friend?”
“Friend. Close friend.”
“Your daughter’s doing very well,” I said. “Two leads today, topped the leaderboard.”
That made Debbie Smith smile with her eyes. “Well done, Kate,” she said, and squeezed her tight. “I’m so proud.” She turned her attention back to me. “So, friend-boss Carl. Has Katie offered you a drink?”
“No need,” I said. “I think we’ll be off soon. Quick change of clothes.”
“Samson,” Katie explained.
“How awfully nice of your boss to take time out to go and see your horse on a Friday evening.” Her eyes were suspicious, and there was an edge to her gaze.
“Friend,” Katie said again. “Good friend.”
“I’m glad Katie is doing well at the office,” she said. “I’m glad she has the opportunity.”
“She’s excelling,” I told her. “Working very hard, and it’s paying off.”
“And you’re Katie’s direct boss are you?”
“For the duration of the training programme.”
She was weighing me up, I could feel it. I ignored the niggle in my gut.
“I’ll get changed,” Katie said, and my urge to follow her up came to nothing. I felt rooted to the spot.
Both her mother and I watched her climb the stairs, I heard a door open and then close at the top. And then her mother cast her verdict.
“You’re the special someone,” she said, and it wasn’t a question. “The special someone and her boss. In my experience the two don’t mix, and Katie needs this opportunity. She deserves the opportunity to do well for herself.”
“Katie is doing very well for herself, I have no intention of that changing.”
“All good intentions,” she said, and it was barbed. “Do you have kids? Married? Divorced?”
“No,” I said, and my throat was dry. “And neither.”
She gave me a little nod. “Ok, Carl. That’s good to hear.” Her eyes seared mine. “You know Katie’s Dad?”
“I know David very well.”
“Then I trust you’ll help Katie make the best of the situation. For her sake, not his.”
“I’ll help Katie make the best of whatever situation she finds herself in. In this instance, for David’s sake as well as hers. He cares very much for her.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m sure he does.” Her smile was back at full radiance by the time Katie made her reappearance, and I made sure to smile, too. I held out a hand.
“Pleasure to meet you, Debbie.”
She shook my hand and it was firmer this time, pointed. “Same to you, Carl.”
But I wasn’t so sure.
“Let’s go,” Katie said, and she seemed oblivious. “I want to hit some jumps, it’s been a while.”
She led the way, and I followed without a backward look. It felt so much more airy outside. I breathed it in, bleeped the Range, feeling Debbie’s gaze burning into my back.
Katie jumped in and waved her mother goodbye as we pulled away. I held up a hand, gave a smile, nothing too bright.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know what to say. Boss came in my head first, then friend.”
“Is that the order you think of them?”
She laughed. “No, definitely not.”
My stomach was niggling again. “And that’s what we are? Close friends?”
“Aren’t we?”
“I’m asking you.”
“I don’t know what we are,” she admitted, and there was an awkwardness to it. “I mean, we’re friends, I know that. You’re my boss. You’re Rick’s boyfriend. And you and Rick have a thing, a proper thing. I’m not sure what that makes us.”
“What do you want it to make us?” I pulled away from Katie’s street and felt so much better.
She shrugged. “That’s a question and a half, Carl. I don’t know how you want me to answer that off the cuff.”
“With honesty,” I said. “It’s not a hard question, you must know how you feel.”
“I like you, if that’s what you mean. I like you both, a lot.”
“You like us?”
“Like you, enjoy your company, enjoy your dicks,” she laughed but I didn’t. She stopped. “I really like you guys. You’re funny and you’re smart, and kind, and different, and great in bed.”
“But you’re in it for the cash,” I said. “It’s alright, I get it.”
Her eyes burned me. “No,” she said, and there was fire in it. “I’m not just in it for the cash. I hardly think about the cash.” She sighed. “If I didn’t have a dream and no way to pay for it, I wouldn’t even want the cash.”
“So, what do you want?”
She pointed out the sign for Woolhope. “I want to see my baby boy,” she said. “That’s what I want.”
“Fine,” I said. “I can take a hint.” I reached for her knee and her hand was waiting. “Onwards, to the furry beast. We’ll pick this conversation up another time.”
The furry beast seemed bigger without Rick there too. Bigger and clumsier. He threw his head up, ears pricked as he followed Katie along to the stable block. I nipped ahead of him, avoiding his clomping feet, playing it cool even though the brute made me uneasy.
Katie could tell my unease regardless. “Relax,” she said. “He’s totally fine.” She offered me the lead rope. “Take it if you want, you’ll see.”
“I’m ok as I am for now,” I said.
“So am I,” she said, and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “That’s what I should have said in the car. I’m happy, Carl, with everything. For now.”
“For now?”
She nodded. “For now, yeah. We’re good. All of us. I like it.”
I wanted to say so much. Spill my load in more ways than one. The need to lay it all out slept uneasily in the pit of me. I could wake it with just a touch, and it would spring into life and come rolling out. And it would plough into her, and maybe she’d run. Just like the others.
“I like it, too. Very much.”
“Good,” she said. “Then we’re good, right?”
I wrapped my arm around her waist. “We’re good.”
She tethered Samson to a loop of twine outside his stable door. “Surely he could break that?” I asked.
“That’s the point,” she said. “If he got freaked, or spooked or whatever, he could break the twine. He wouldn’t hurt himself.”
“Nice to know,” I said, imagining that flimsy bit of nothing doing sweet fuck all if the brute decided to go for me.
He was still eyeballing me, still hostile. Even chomping on hay he was eyeballing me. She picked up his feet one by one, held them between her thighs as she scraped the mud out of them. Rather her than me.
I wished Rick was with us, making her laugh with his easy conversation. He’d know what to say, what to do. He’d do this what’s going on conversation so much more casually than I could. Probably because he wouldn’t do it at all.
Katie saddled up, fastened up her helmet. She was all smiles.
“Do you need a leg up or something?” I asked, but she shook her head.
“Could you get the gate?” She pointed to the side of the wood-chipped arena. “That one.”
I dashed in front of them and did what she asked. She trotted on through, rising and falling in the saddle, her thighs so toned I could see the definition of her through her jodhpurs.
She pointed at the jumps laid out around the field. Poles of red and white, yellow and white. Some high, some doubles, some just poles on the floor. One of the arrangements had toppled.
I ran to it before she asked, propped it back up to height.
She thanked me. My suit definitely didn’t.
I leaned against the fence at a safe distance and watched. I watched everything, soaking her in. Samson’s easy gait as she warmed him up, long loops around the outside, figures of eight through the jumps. I watched the way she moved, the sophisticated freedom in her posture. The smile on her face, the concentration as she turned him, guided him.
She was a picture.
A swan on water, in her element, bursting with joy.
I could watch her forever.
My heart thumped as she took the first jump, but the horse leapt it easily. She rose and fell, freeing up the reins as he needed them, then patted his neck, squeezed her legs to his sides to encourage him onwards. They took another jump and it was magical. A third and I was addicted. Feeling the rhythm in his hooves, the duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh, and then the silence as he leapt, the thump of his landing, and back to the duh-duh-duh.
I was smiling as they jumped a double, two in quick succession. Willing her forwards, loving the way they moved as one.
I could love this, watching her.
I could fall in love with this.
She gave Samson a big pat when they’d done enough, and her cheeks were rosy as she walked him around the field, his head hanging low, reins long and loose in her hands. He was sweaty at the neck, and smelled of leather and beast as she walked him close by. I opened the gate for them, and they passed me close enough that I could feel the heat of him, heading back up to the stable block.
I followed, and she stared over her shoulder, leaning back on his rump.
“What do you think?” she asked. “Were we good?”
“Amazing,” I said. “Seriously. It was amazing.”
“It’s taken a long time.” She smiled. “He was green when he arrived, jumped too big. Nervous.”
“He didn’t look nervous today.”
“He’s not anymore,” she said. “He trusts me. He knows me.”
“The beauty of experience,” I said. “In becoming comfortable with each other.”
She dismounted and tethered him, taking off his saddle as he rummaged in the hay net. “We’re competing in the Cheltenham Chase in August,” she said. “The only course this summer.”
“I’m sure you’ll do very well,” I said, and I meant it.
“I hope so.” Her eyes met mine. “Verity is doing it, too, on some posh fancy horse her daddy paid a fortune for.”
“And that’s why you’re doing it?”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little. I want to win.”
“It’s a slippery slope,” I said. “Competing with just one person. It never ends up pleasantly, even if you win.”
“Still,” she said. “I want to win.” A rumble of a truck sounded in the distance and she dashed along the path. “It’s Jack,” she said. “Finally! I haven’t seen him in aaages!” She picked up Samson’s saddle, handed it to me with his bridle. Sweaty leather slammed into my suit jacket, but she didn’t notice, she was too keen to go. “Can you put this in the tack room, please? And keep an eye on Samson? I won’t be long.”
I nodded, but I doubt she even saw me. She was already rushing away.
She was gone a while. Long enough that the furry brute finished up his hay, even the scraggly bits that had dropped to the floor. He blew out a sigh and looked around the place, straining on his rope as he looked towards the farmhouse.
“Steady,” I said. “Don’t go breaking that twine.” As though the beast would understand me.
His eyes met mine and they were dark and curious, and hostile. Still hostile.
His ears flicked about, this way and that, his tail swishing idly at the flies.
I dared to take a step forward. “Hey, boy. Good boy.”
I reached out a hand, but he tossed his head away. It freaked me out enough to step back again, but the action pained me, frustrated me.
And then it hit me.
I wanted the animal to like me.
Ridiculous, but true.
I wanted him to like me, so that she’d like me. Because he was important.
“Hey,” I said again. “Who’s a good boy?”
His eyes bored into me. I took a breath and a step forward, and this time I kept my hand out, even when he moved his head away. “Who’s a good boy? A friendly boy?” I kept my tone light. “Hey, boy, please don’t savage me, hey? Don’t trample me.”
I placed a hand on his neck and he was hot and sweaty, but soft. My heart thumped.
“Good boy.”
I patted him, as though I knew what I was doing. He didn’t move, just stared.
Please, I willed. Please, just like me. Please.
I took deep breaths, gentle steps, until I was close to his side. His ears kept flicking, his weight shifting on his feet.
“Good boy, Samson, that’s a good boy.”
He tossed his head again as I placed a hand on his face, and I pulled away but only a fraction.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please just give me a chance, boy.”
When I put my hand out again he stayed still, and my heart leapt in my chest. I placed my hand on his nose, and he snorted, snuffled. He snuffled me, his nose in my pockets. And then he butted me, like he’d butted Katie.
And I wasn’t scared.
“Good boy!” I said, and wished I had fucking mints. I wished I had a whole truckload of fucking mints.
He butted me again, and I rubbed his ears, and he didn’t mind.
I felt the connection, beast to man, man to beast. He’d taken my measure and I’d done alright. I’d passed whatever horsey paces he’d put me through.
“Good boy, Samson, that’s a good boy.”
I stroked the white stripe on his face and he didn’t flinch.
Didn’t move when I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave the beast a hug, caring fuck all for my suit.
“That’s it,” I whispered. “Friends now.”
It felt seriously fucking good.
I was still petting the brute when I heard Katie’s footsteps on the path. I turned to face her with a smile, patting the horse like we were best fucking buddies.
My stomach was tight and tickly, and a little bit excited, and my heart was full of life.
“He likes me,” I said. “He actually fucking likes me!”
My eyes met hers, hoping for approval and joy and excitement to match mine, but there was nothing of the sort.
Katie’s eyes were puffy and sad. Her cheeks reddened from tears.
“What?” I said, dropping the horse hugs and heading straight for her. “What the hell happened?”
She struggled to speak at first, just took my arms and gripped them with tense fingers. She shook her head and another tear fell.
“Talk to me,” I said. “What is it?”
She took a gulp of air that sounded like a sob.
“It’s Jack,” she said. “The bank… the bank are repossessing, threatening to close the business…” Another tear, and a proper sob this time. “He’s selling the land, he’s got no choice. He’s got to sell it, the stables, the yard. All of it.”
“Ok,” I said. “It’s alright.”
But she was shaking her head. “It’s not alright,” she said. “My dream
is over. It’s gone. It’s all fucking gone.”
And then she cried.
She really fucking cried.
Chapter Nineteen
Carl
She didn’t let me hold her, just brushed her tears aside and busied herself with Samson. I helped as best I could, helping her brush him down before putting his rug on, opening gates, holding a hosepipe while the water trough was filling, but I don’t believe she even noticed. Her thoughts were far away, eyes brimming with tears as they stared into the distance.
I could feel her dreams breaking.
And mine were in my throat, desperate to reach out and grab hers and hold the cracks together.
I watched Samson make his way back down the field, calling out to his horsey friends before he took off into a run, but for once Katie didn’t linger. She was already off, head collar in hand, trudging back across the yard towards the car.
I caught her up, but she said nothing, just hung the collar on its hook by Samson’s stable and gathered up the hosepipe.
“Home?” I said, and she nodded. She climbed up into the Range and clipped her belt, and her breath was shallow and ragged. I pulled away from the yard, keeping slow along the lane.
The silence was loud. Too loud.
“It’s that bad?” I said. “No room to negotiate? They won’t give him any leeway?”
She shook her head. “They’ve given him all they were willing to give. I was too late.”
“Too late?”
“I hoped I’d have enough money to pay six months’ rent up front. Jack needed the cash for the bank.”
“But that’s no longer an option?”
Her lip trembled a little. “I think it was always a longshot. Wishful thinking, both of us. He couldn’t make the business work on his own. I just hoped…” Her voice trailed off.
Wishful thinking, maybe, but the girl looked broken. She chewed on her knuckles as the car rumbled on, and the need in me boiled over, exploded. I pulled into a turning, Haugh Wood the sign read. A parking area virtually empty. I pulled up, turned off the engine, and Katie stared at me.
“What are we…?”
“It’s your dream?” I asked. “This place? This particular place? This yard?”