MClarke - Green Wellies and Wax Jackets

by Green Wellies

  ‘Over there.’ James pointed.

  They stood watching for a moment, until she rode out of sight.

  ‘Interesting,’ Matthew said, as he ground his cigarette stub out on the tarmac. ‘I certainly didn’t see her at the stables.’

  Which was probably just as well, Lewis thought. Matthew’s reputation as a womaniser was not without strong foundation.

  ‘Told you we’d find somebody suitable,’ Lucy said, sucking her finger. ‘You didn’t believe me, did you?’

  ‘Not when I saw those other girls,’ Lewis said, grinning. ‘Come on, we’d better get a move on. Mr Fitzgerald will be wondering where we are. Don’t forget,’ he added, as he climbed back into his seat and slammed the door. ‘We need his approval if this venture is ever going to get off the ground.’

  ‘And then we’re going back to the stables, right?’ James said, glancing back over his shoulder at the distant copse of trees.

  ‘I am,’ Lewis said. ‘But you’re not. I’m going to drop you off at the hotel. You’ve got work to do, remember?’

  ‘Can’t it wait,’ Matthew protested. He was looking forward to going back and seeing if he could fix up a date with the young stable-girl he’d been chatting to earlier.

  A withering glare from his boss persuaded him not to push the matter.

  ‘Business first, pleasure later,’ Lewis informed him, as he bounced the car gingerly back onto the road. ‘Now then, Lucy. Do you think we could try the map again? The right way round, this time, otherwise I’ll give it to James.’

  ‘I can manage,’ his assistant said huffily. ‘You know we always get there in the end.’

  ‘That’s what’s worrying me,’ he said, grinning. Four hours from London, when it should have taken them two at the most - all because his delightful PA had missed the turning off the M25, (supposedly because a juggernaut had blocked her view of the slip road exit).

  If Lucy noticed the irony in his tone, she ignored it. She felt she was quite capable of reading the map. And if he didn’t agree with her judgement, then he was perfectly at liberty to read it for himself.

  ‘Turn left at the end of this road,’ she said.

  ‘The Ridgeway road?’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  Lewis switched on his car indicator, and glanced across at her pert little face, with its stubborn, don’t-mess-with-me expression.

  ‘Right,’ he said calmly.

  ‘No!’ She flapped her hand at him. ‘Left.’

  ‘Left it is,’ he said, grinning. ‘I was only agreeing with you, Lucy.’

  ‘Oh,’ she muttered, peering down at the creased map once more. A thoughtful frown wrinkled her brow. ‘Actually, maybe we should go right.’ She spun the map round.

  ‘James,’ Lewis pleaded, rolling his eyes in exasperation. ‘Get us out of here.’

  ‘Whatever you say, boss.’ He plucked the map from Lucy’s hand, and ignored her immediate yelp of protest. ‘You want to turn left here, and then right at the next junction. Ecclestone is about two miles away, and the Fitzgerald place is the first house on the left. Got it?’

  He folded the map up and handed it back to Lucy with a grin. ‘Simple,’ he said.

  ‘Like your brain, Connors,’ she snapped.

  Lewis smiled. He hated them teasing Lucy, but he had his own reason for getting this visit over and done with quickly. The sooner he finished his appointment with Mr Fitzgerald, the sooner he could get back to Hollyfield Stables to meet the elusive Caroline in person.

  Had he but known it, the encounter was going to be a disappointment for both of them.

  Chapter Three

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Caroline said, her face beaming with obvious pleasure. They want to meet me?’

  ‘Indeed they do,’ Ursula said, taking her daughter’s muddy riding hat and gloves from her and placing them on the kitchen table. ‘I don’t know why you were so long at the yard, but it doesn’t matter. They’re coming back, so you’ve got time to smarten yourself up a bit.’ She peered closer. ‘What’s that red mark on your cheek?’

  Caroline reached up tentatively. ‘I think it’s where I fell off,’ she said. Or where Vanessa had thumped her one, but she didn’t want to tell her mother that.

  ‘Well see if you can cover it up with a bit of foundation or something. Oh, and Caroline,’ she added, lowering her voice a fraction. ‘I haven’t told Vanessa they’re coming back to see you. She was in rather a bad mood when she came in. I think she felt a bit embarrassed falling off in front of everyone.’

  Caroline nodded. She wasn’t surprised. It was fortunate for her, that her own little tumble had taken place out of sight of the main arena and the watching spectators. ‘Where is she now?’ she asked.

  ‘Gone for a long soak in a hot bath.’

  ‘Right. Well, I won’t say anything to her.’

  Not yet, she thought gleefully. Oh my God, she couldn’t believe it. Lewis Trevelyan wanted to see her. It was so exciting. He must have been really impressed by the way she had ridden Nero. She was impressed with it herself. At least she had managed to pull him up before he jumped the hedge, even if she had catapulted over his neck at the same time. It took skill and courage to halt a bolting horse - skill, and courage.

  The fact that she had never been so terrified in her life before, had nothing to do with it. Appearances could be deceptive, and if Lewis Trevelyan had been deceived, it was all well and good. She wasn’t going to tell him otherwise.

  ‘Tea?’ Ursula suggested. ‘And there’s some biscuits left on the plate.’

  A brandy would be more welcome, Caroline thought – for medicinal purposes, naturally. She shook her head. ‘No thanks. I think I’ll get changed.’

  ‘Wear those dark blue jodhpurs.’

  ‘Mother,’ she groaned. ‘They’re far too tight. I told you that last week.’

  ‘Did you, dear? Oh well,’ she shook her head. ‘I must have forgotten. The tartan checked ones look nice, though.’ At least, they did when she was about twelve, she reflected.

  Caroline made her way upstairs, a thoughtful frown on her flushed cheeks. What did one put on, when one was destined to meet a film producer who could be her gateway to the stars? And how long was Vanessa planning to lock herself in the bathroom? She wanted to get in to wash her hair.

  ‘Will you be long?’ she said, knocking on the door.

  ‘Ages,’ came the grumpy reply.

  Vanessa had no intention of letting anybody in. She lay back in a steaming mass of frothy bubbles, her eyes closed, inhaling the subtle perfume from several fragranced candles, which she had lit and placed strategically around the room.

  The knowledge that the Blackwater Film Company was showing an apparent interest in Caroline was partly to blame for her foul mood. The ache in her left thigh and arm, where she had landed in her fall, was also contributing to it. What made things worse, however, was the fact that she felt as if she had been publicly humiliated, and her mother didn’t seem to care. Jasper had been performing really well, and they had all walked off and left her. How did they expect her to feel?

  She raised her leg and turned the hot tap on with her toe. A spout of gushing water rekindled the mass of bubbles, which were now threatening to spill over the sides of the bath.

  ‘Hurry up!’ Caroline said, banging on the door.

  ‘Sod off!’

  ‘I bet you’re using all the hot water.’

  ‘Quite possibly.’

  ‘Cow!’

  Ursula raised her eyes to the ceiling as she heard the violent slamming of a bedroom door.

  ‘That sounds like fun,’ Ella said.

  Ursula dropped her gaze, to see her stepdaughter standing in the doorway, levering off her boots on the kitchen step.

  ‘What’s going on up there?’

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ Ursula said. ‘You know what they’re like. Well actually,’ she paused, wondering if she should say something. Ella was bound to find out one way or the other. And she was
too excited not to mention it. In fact, she was positively bursting with excitement. ‘Actually, it’s about this film company.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Ella draped her riding jacket over the back of a chair. ‘Impressed, were they?’

  ‘Yes, as it happens.’

  ‘They were?’ she said, in disbelief. She stopped washing her hands at the kitchen sink, and glanced back at her.

  ‘Yes.’ Ursula was beaming like the proverbial Cheshire cat. ‘Isn’t it marvellous? That young man, Mr Trevelyan – ever such a nice young man - he’s the producer you know,’ she added. ‘Well, he wants to speak to Caroline.’

  ‘He does?’ Ella said. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he saw her, and he wants to meet her.’

  Ella was surprised at this, to say the least. She had seen Caroline’s performance, and at close quarters too, and it had not been a pretty sight.

  ‘The trouble is,’ Ursula said, lowering her voice. ‘I think Vanessa is a little bit jealous. In fact, I think she’s sulking.’

  That figured. Ella dried her hands on the kitchen towel. ‘But they’ve gone, haven’t they?’ she said. ‘I thought Thomas said he’d seen them drive off.’

  ‘Yes, but they’re coming back.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know. Later today, I expect.’ Ursula opened the fridge and peered hopefully inside. ‘I thought I’d do us a salad for lunch. I don’t want to be fiddling about cooking when they return.’

  ‘I won’t be eating,’ Ella said.

  ‘You won’t?’

  ‘No, I’m meeting Kate. She’s picking me up in her new car. We,’ she added, smiling, ‘are going to be “ladies who lunch”.’

  Ursula’s face fell. ‘But you’ve got a class at two.’

  ‘I know. I’ll be back by then,’ she said. ‘I’ve asked Kelly to tack up the horses for the lesson, so it won’t be a problem.’

  ‘You could have told me,’ Ursula muttered.

  ‘I just have.’ Ella picked up a soggy custard cream from the plate and popped it into her mouth. ‘Besides,’ she added. ‘I want to go down to the church, and Kate has offered to take me there.’

  ‘The church?’

  Ella’s smile faded. ‘I wanted to leave some flowers.’

  ‘Ah, right.’ Ursula had the decency to look guilty. ‘I hadn’t forgotten, you know,’ she lied. Goodness, was it the anniversary of Robert’s death again? The years seemed to be whizzing past. ‘In fact, I had planned to go this afternoon.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘I could go tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Yes, that’s what I’ll do.’ She fiddled with the pin in her hair as she spoke. ‘I’ll pop down tomorrow, and I’ll get a nice bouquet from Madisons, that florist in the village.’

  An over-the-top, once-a-year, token gesture, Ella thought, as she filled a glass of water from the tap, and drank it slowly.

  ‘It doesn’t do to brood over the past, Ella,’ Ursula said. ‘We’ve got the future to think about – the future of the stables, your future…you, me, and the girls,’ she added hastily.

  It still irked her that Robert had left the house and the stables to Ella in his will. As his loyal wife, she had expected to inherit the house at the very least. But no, she was only allowed to remain in residence there, although she could, of course, move to the groom’s cottage if she so desired.

  Ursula shuddered at the thought – a pokey little two bed-roomed house was not what she aspired to, and she couldn’t understand why Robert had left it to her in the first place. Besides which, Ella needed her around to run the business properly. A young girl like her couldn’t be expected to take on a managerial role. She was far too soft with people. The feed merchant would eat her alive, if she tried to haggle with him.

  Of course, the girl excelled in her work with horses. Ursula couldn’t deny it. She had a natural affinity with them, and it was only to be expected, given her parentage. But she couldn’t delegate and a firm hand was needed when dealing with the motley assortment of staff, customers, and businesses that used the stables.

  The bank manager, for one, was giving her a lot of grief at the moment. She could handle him. She was quite sure that Ella couldn’t. (Although a fluttering of those long eyelashes and her sweet and beguiling smile might help.)

  Ella leafed through the pile of letters on the kitchen table. ‘Anything interesting in the post?’ she asked.

  Although the main bulk of the mail came addressed to her, Ursula, as manager in charge, tended to open anything that looked remotely businesslike or official.

  ‘No. Only the usual junk,’ she replied, quickly plonking a plate on the brown envelope marked “urgent”, which had come from the bank that morning. ‘There’s a card from the vet about Wilson, though. He needs a booster.’

  Wilson was the family dog – a huge Great Dane, with an appetite second to none, and manners that left a lot to be desired. He had never really grown out of the puppy stage, and was forever bounding about and upsetting the furniture. Now that he was fully grown, Ursula found it quite off-putting to have him leaping about and slobbering over her every five minutes. Yet whenever she shouted at him, he tended to give her a look of aloof disdain, and then ignored her completely.

  Ella, however, could control him with a click of her fingers. The wretched dog appeared to adore her, and followed her everywhere, loyally obedient to her every command.

  ‘I’ll make an appointment for him next week,’ Ella said.

  ‘How about next month?’ Ursula suggested. She had yet to pay the vet’s bill, and didn’t want to run up another one.

  ‘Whatever.’ Ella drained her glass of water. ‘Right. Well, I don’t suppose Vanessa will let me in the bathroom so I’ll have a quick wash downstairs, and then I’ll be off.’

  ‘But you will be back at two?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I will be back at two.’

  Half an hour later and Vanessa decided it was time she surfaced from the now tepid bathwater, with its sparse covering of bubbles. Caroline had given up banging on the door, and was no doubt fuming in her bedroom. Well good, she thought. Serves her right. She draped herself in her bathrobe, and blew out the spluttering candles. A waft of fragranced steam followed her as she opened the door and stepped out on to the landing.

  ‘About bloody time,’ Caroline snapped, rushing past her, and slamming the door. It was too late to wash her hair now. She would have to make do with tying it up instead. She wiped a circle of condensation away from the mirror, and peered at her reflection. Her skin looked blotchy, and she was sure she was starting a new spot. Well she didn’t have time to worry about that now. She brushed her teeth and then fastened her hair in a ponytail, before darting back into the bedroom to put on some make-up. She had already changed into a pair of black trousers, and a neat fitting blouse – rather too neat, if the truth were known, but at least it showed off a good portion of her cleavage. She squirted perfume on her neck and wrists, and applied some more lip-gloss – a free sample from a magazine, but she rather liked the finished result (the wet look was so in these days), and then she hurried downstairs to wait for her expected visitors.

  Vanessa was in no such hurry to get dressed. She lumbered round the house in her towelling dressing gown, feeling dejected and miserable.

  Her mournful face was putting Ursula off her lunch. ‘Do try and eat something, darling,’ she said, offering her the bowl of prepared salad, and a crusty roll. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ she sniffed.

  ‘It’s not as if we meant to abandon you,’ Ursula soothed. ‘It’s just that Mr Trevelyan and his colleagues had a more pressing engagement to attend.’ She helped herself to a liberal portion of grated cheese as she spoke. ‘They only travelled up from London last night, and they had a lot of people to see.’

  Caroline sat smirking by the window seat as she munched on a stick of celery. (Anything more than that, and her trousers would probably burst at the seams.)

>   ‘It’s just that Jasper was jumping so well,’ Vanessa sniffed.

  ‘I know, darling. I know.’

  ‘He’s here!’ Caroline shrieked, almost dropping her stick of celery into the dog’s drinking bowl, as she leapt to her feet. ‘It’s him, mother! He’s here.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Vanessa ducked behind the curtain and peered through the window. Her sister was right. It was Lewis Trevelyan of Blackwater Films. He had come back. In fact, he was at that very moment, striding purposefully up towards the house.