`Nine thirty,' Ella said, glancing at her watch. `Crikey, Thomas it's after nine now. I'll have to get Jasper and Nero saddled up.'
She jumped down from the bale she was sitting on, and brushed the strands of straw from her fleece jacket and jeans. Her blonde hair had fallen loose from its ponytail, and swung forward over her eyes. She ran her fingers through it and expertly coiled it into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. It wouldn't hold, but it was better than nothing.
`Ella!'
`Oh God, that's Vanessa,' she said. `Can you give me a hand, Thomas?'
`Sure I can. Do you want me to fetch in Nero?'
`Please,' she said, nodding. `He's always a bit of a handful. I'll get Jasper.'
`So there you are!' Vanessa pushed open the tack room door and glared pointedly at the pair of them, her pale blue eyes flicking over the empty mugs and the pile of cleaning cloths and soap. She was wearing a pair of skin tight, cream jodhpurs that looked as if they had been sprayed on, and a checked hacking jacket. Her mousy brown hair was stuffed into a hair net, which made her look twenty years older than she really was, and her plump, pink cheeks shone where she had pulled the strap of her riding hat far too tight under her chin. `Why isn't Jasper ready?'
`He is ready,' Ella said. `He's been fed and groomed, and all he needs is his tack put on.'
`I see.' She wrinkled her nose. `Well, I'm waiting.'
She thwacked her whip against her leg as she spoke.
Thomas muttered something unintelligible under his breath, as he snatched down Nero's head collar, and strode out across the yard.
The way they treated Ella made his blood boil - acting as if she was some sort of skivvy. It was her father who had started up the stables, and given the place such an enviable reputation. It had nothing to do with Ursula Johnson, and her two spoilt offspring. Yet they lorded over the place as if they owned it. Truth be told, they wouldn't know a nag from a stallion if they were stood side by side in front of them. It was the image of the landed gentry and the distinctly upper-crust class that they were interested in.
Ursula and her daughters liked mingling with the nobs.
Thomas spat forcefully on the ground, as he unlatched the gate into the black gelding's paddock. `Come on, me darling,' he muttered, waving the head collar. `Let's see you do your worst.'
Vanessa sat perched on a bale of hay, twirling her whip between her fingers as she watched Ella tighten the girth on Jasper. `Don't you think it's exciting,' she said.
`What?'
`This film they're making.'
`I don't know much about it,' Ella said.
`Oh. I thought mother had told you.'
`No,' she said. Or at least, if she had, she obviously hadn't been paying her much attention. Ursula talked such a load of twaddle at times it was hardly surprising. Name dropping was one of her fortes. She was forever trying to outdo her neighbours by boasting of her various important acquaintances. Ella would find herself listening with half an ear, bored stiff, whilst Ursula launched herself into the latest topic of country gossip.
`Well, they're looking for experienced show-jumpers,' Vanessa explained. `So naturally, someone told them about us.'
`Naturally,' Ella muttered, as she yanked Jasper's girth up another hole. The bay gelding snorted and tossed its head in protest. That "someone" was a person who obviously needed their head examined.
`Vanessa! Vanessa! Oh my God, I don't believe it, Vanessa!'
Caroline came hurtling into the stable yard, her face pink and flustered with excitement. Her large breasts bounced visibly under the tightness of her velvet show jacket, and her sturdy thighs were quivering as she ran.
`He's here!' she panted breathlessly.
`Who's here?'
`Lewis!' she screeched, waving her arms excitedly. `Lewis Trevelyan.'
`No!' Vanessa jumped down from the bale, her cheeks rapidly flushing with colour. `The Lewis Trevelyan, from Blackwater Films? Oh my God! Where is he?'
Caroline smirked as she sucked in a breath of much needed air. `He's talking to mother. Can you believe it? He is talking, to our mother.'
`No!' Vanessa gasped.
Ella stroked Jaspers nose, and patted him fondly on the neck. The shrieking from the two girls had unsettled him, and he seemed tense and nervous.
`Yes! And you'll never guess what.' Caroline paused a moment, for good effect. `This film he's making it's got Simon De Silva as the main star.'
`You're joking. Simon De Silva?' Vanessa clutched at her sleeve.
Caroline nodded, beaming.
`Oh my God!' She snatched Jasper's reins from Ella's hand. `Well, what are we waiting for? Come on, Ella, move. Give me a leg up. Now!'
`But what about Nero?' Caroline protested. `He's not ready, yet.'
`Sod Nero.' Vanessa thumped her backside down into the saddle, and jerked the nervous horse's head around.
`Wait for me, Vanessa.'
`Get stuffed.'
Caroline looked as if she was going to burst into tears.
`This is all your fault!' she snapped, glaring at Ella. `Where's my horse?'
`Thomas is bringing him in.'
`Well he should have been tacked up by now. It's not fair.'
Ella shrugged. Life was full of disappointments. That much she had learned in the past few years. You either got on with it, or you didn't. In her experience, complaining and moping around didn't do anyone any good.
She hurried to lift down Nero's saddle, as she heard hooves clattering over the cobbles in the yard.
`Where the hell have you been?' Caroline snorted crossly.
Thomas shrugged as he tethered the black gelding to a ring in the stable wall, and undid its rug.
`He's filthy! Well, you'll have to brush him. I can't ride him with all that mud on his legs.'
`Suit yourself,' Thomas muttered. `I've got to set up some show jumps for your mother and that producer chap who's hanging round.'
`Lewis Trevelyan.' Caroline positively swooned. `Ella, do hurry up.'
A quick flick over with a body brush, and Nero was ready to be saddled up allegedly. He, however, was not in a good mood. He had been enjoying a lazy morning in the field with his stable mates, and he did not relish the idea of work. His black ears lay flat against his skull as Ella tried to soothe him. He snorted and tried to nip her when she tightened his girth.
`Oh, for goodness, sake - let me do it!' Caroline snapped. She whacked him on the side of his neck with the flat of her whip. `He just needs to know who's boss. You're too soft with him.'
Ella winced, and stepped to one side. She could see the whites of Nero's eyes. It was patently obvious (to her, at least) that he wasn't in the right frame of mind for any of this.
`Stand still, you stupid horse!' Caroline said, as she thrust her polished boot into the stirrup. `Give me a leg up, Ella.'
`Caroline, I don't think...'
`You're not here to think,' she snapped. `You're here to help me, so hurry up. I'm fed up of Vanessa getting all the attention. I want Lewis Trevelyan to notice me, not her.'
With a sigh, Ella cupped her hands around Caroline's podgy knee, and thrust her upwards on the count of three. She thumped all of her weight (which, admittedly, was quite considerable) onto the horses back.
Nero's eyes rolled in their sockets, and he snorted angrily.
He could have done without the thrust of Caroline's spur capped boots, or the whack of her crop across his rump. In fact, he didn't need anything to make him move. What he did need, however, was something to make him stop.
A horse in full flight is a splendid sight to see. A horse in a panic stricken, headlong bolt is terrifying.
`Sweet bloody Jesus!' Thomas swore, as he scuttled to one side to avoid being trampled in the mayhem that ensued. `What the devil does she think she's doing?'
`Riding to impress,' Ella said sweetly. `What does it look like?'
Nero soared over the five bar gate and took off like a black demon possessed, across the adj
oining field, the hedge, and the field beyond, with Caroline clinging on for all she was worth.
In the sand ménage, Vanessa was busy jumping a round of coloured poles, and doing so quite successfully, until Jasper, startled by Nero's headlong dash for freedom, swerved, and spun around, depositing her promptly in an undignified heap on the ground.
Ella didn't mean to laugh. In fact, she was quite mortified by what had happened. But there was something uniquely satisfying about seeing Vanessa sprawled on her backside in the sand school, and Caroline screeching hysterically around the neck of a maddened horse, which was rapidly disappearing into a cloud of dust on the horizon.
A subdued giggle, which she had tried in vain to suppress, erupted into a loud and mischievous laugh.
Lewis Trevelyan was standing by the white post and rail fencing of the paddock, and trying desperately not to appear bored. (It wasn't good for PR reasons). But the inane chatter of this annoying Mrs Johnson woman was driving him nuts. As far as he could see, her daughter's couldn't ride, weren't photogenic, and would look hideous in any kind of movie, bar a B group horror spoof.
He raised his eyes skywards, as he caught the amused, sideways glance from his personal assistant, Lucy. He would have words with her later. It was her suggestion that they come to these stables in the first place.
The thunder of galloping hooves distracted him momentarily from his thoughts. The sound of mischievous laughter distracted them more.
That was when he saw her.
It was only a fleeting glimpse, but it was enough for a snapshot impression to implant itself in his brain. The girl was stunning, but in a natural and unassuming way. She had long blonde hair, and she was wearing casual clothes - jeans and a sweatshirt, nothing fancy. But even from this distance, he could see she was something special.
My God, he realised she really was quite beautiful.
Ella, oblivious to this sudden interest in her, clamped a hand over her mouth in dismay and ducked back into the stables. Goodness she hoped no one had heard her. Ursula would go berserk if she thought she was laughing at her precious daughters.
`Didn't need no thistle, then,' Thomas observed dryly. His eyes sparkled merrily.
`Shush, Thomas,' she said. `That's wicked. I suppose I'd better go and see if I can help catch those horses.'
`Don't you dare. You know you'll get the blame. If I was you, I'd sneak back to the house, and pretend you saw none of it.'
`I can't do that.'
`Now how did I know that's what you were going to say,' he sighed, picking up Nero's head collar, and tossing it over to her. `Come on, let's go.'
Vanessa dusted herself down and remounted Jasper. She was sure she had Lewis Trevelyan's attention now, and she wasn't going to let an opportunity like this one go to waste. Especially as Caroline was out of the picture. (And for good, if she had her way.)
But, sadly, she was mistaken in her beliefs. For the man who could make her dreams of fame and fortune come true, was now no longer watching her.
Lewis Trevelyan's gaze was fixed on the distant horizon, where he had spotted a far more interesting proposition.
The girl he had seen earlier was walking back across the fields leading the black horse. It was following her quietly, as docile as a lamb. A short way behind her came a small limping man, supporting a red faced and hobbling young woman.
`So, Mr Trevelyan what do you think? Has Hollyfield stables got what your company is looking for?'
Lewis Trevelyan glanced with a certain degree of distaste at the simpering smirk Ursula Johnson was giving him, and then looked again at the trio on the far horizon. A slow and steady smile began to spread across his face.
`Actually,' he said, stroking his designer bristled chin thoughtfully, `Yes, I rather think it has.'
Chapter Two
‘I think I’ve broken something,’ Caroline moaned, as she draped herself over Thomas’ shoulder.
‘Nay, lass – you’ll be a bit bruised, that’s all.’
‘And winded,’ Ella said. ‘That was quite some tumble you took.’
Caroline had managed to pull Nero up before he jumped the boundary hedge, which was fortunate for her, because it was all that came between them and the main road.
What wasn’t so fortunate, however, was the way she had been tossed over his head like a champagne cork going off, when he jerked to an abrupt standstill.
By the time Thomas and Ella caught up with her she was sprawled flat on her back, groaning (having made quite sure they were coming after her first), and Nero was munching contentedly on a clump of meadow grass a short distance away.
Ella caught hold of the horse’s reins, as Thomas administered his own version of first aid to the prostrate Caroline.
A poke here, and a prod there, and a muttered ‘You’ll live,’ seemed to be enough to galvanise her into action. (After all, there was still the matter of the Blackwater Film Company to contend with)
Ella crouched down and ran her hands over the black gelding’s legs. The front nearside was warm to the touch.
‘It’s a bit hot,’ she said, glancing over at Thomas.
The small Irishman frowned, more from the weight of Caroline leaning on him than anything else. ‘I’ll cold hose him when we get him back to the yard,’ he said. ‘He’ll be fine and dandy in no time.’
‘Unlike me,’ Caroline sniffed, smearing a patch of mud across her flushed cheeks with the back of her gloved hand. ‘I ache everywhere. Stupid horse.’ She glared at the offending beast.
‘Still, he looked a picture sailing over that gate, so he did,’ Thomas said. He winked at Ella.
‘Did he really?’ Caroline’s voice sounded hopeful. ‘Do you think Mr Trevelyan saw me?’
He could hardly have failed to miss her, the noise she was making.
‘Possibly,’ Ella said. ‘Although I think his attention may have been diverted slightly when Vanessa fell off.’
‘No!’ Caroline gasped. This was news to her. ‘She fell off Jasper?’
‘Quite spectacularly,’ Thomas assured her.
Caroline beamed. ‘I hope she wasn’t hurt.’
‘No more than you, by the looks of things.’ He pointed a finger in the direction of the sand school. The people from the film company were standing around watching the proceedings. Vanessa had managed to get back on her horse, and was in the process of completing the course of jumps. She looked as if she was doing rather well at it, too.
‘Right!’ Caroline announced, straightening her shoulders, and deciding she no longer hurt as much as she had first thought. ‘Give me a leg up.’
‘No,’ Ella said. She laid a warning hand on her stepsister’s arm. ‘You can’t ride him. I don’t want him going lame.’
‘He won’t go lame if I just sit on him,’ she said. ‘Please, Ella. I want Mr Trevelyan to see me.’
‘I think he’s seen you already,’ Thomas said. ‘Leastways, he keeps staring over here.’
‘Does he? Does he really?’ Caroline peered around the horse’s neck. Why yes, the young man in question was looking across the fields at her. In fact, he had one hand raised to shield his eyes from the sun as he did so.
Caroline thrust her bosoms out and held in her stomach. She risked a tentative wave back at him.
‘I can’t believe he’s actually here,’ she said excitedly. ‘He works with all the top stars, you know. It was his PA who phoned mother to ask if she could suggest some suitable riders.’
‘And your ma thought of you,’ Thomas said, trying hard to keep a straight face. ‘Well, I’ll be.’
Ella smiled as she walked on ahead with Nero. The gelding had stopped snorting, and was plodding calmly, his long black tail swishing behind him at the ever-present cloud of flies.
Her stepsisters never ceased to amaze her. Both were under the illusion that they were talented riders just waiting to be discovered. The fact that they never won anything, and were frequently disqualified from jumping competitions for riding the wrong cours
e, didn’t seem to dissuade them.
Ursula couldn’t be swayed in her beliefs either. She was the one who bolstered their confidence, blaming the horse, the ground, or even the judges when things went wrong. Anything, it seemed, other than to accept the plain truth that her daughters were not top class riders, and never would be.
Back in the arena, she was acting true to form by trying her best to convince the Blackwater Film Company that Hollyfield stables could and would produce talented show jumpers for them.
MClarke - Green Wellies and Wax Jackets Page 2